Love Inspired January 2016, Box Set 1 of 2

by Carolyne Aarsen

  She blushed, inside and out, and then she had to say yes just to prove she was in complete control of this attraction. Whether she was or not didn’t matter. She appeared to be in control, and that was enough for now.

  “Will Rocky be all right with the neighborhood dogs?” Kimberly asked as they curved down the lakeshore street. “The folks on West Lake Road are fussy.”

  “They don’t like dogs?” Amy asked.

  “They don’t like being disturbed is more like it, but I think if we’re with the police chief’s daughter, we’re okay.” Drew snapped Rocky’s lead onto his collar. “And Rocky won’t react to the other dogs unless I tell him to.”

  “I noticed that with Mags,” Kimberly said. “He’s trained to ignore other dogs?”

  “Unless given a command, and then he does whatever needs to be done.”

  “Which wouldn’t be pretty,” Amy added. “I got a call from Grandma and Grandpa today.”

  “Reaming you for wasting their money by ditching camp?”

  “No, Grandma said she understood totally and that the camp agreed to refund the money in return for them not suing because they had no idea I’d left. And Grandma said she was going to donate the money to a good cause, and I said it would be nice if she donated it to Rory’s classroom of kids.”

  “Amy, that’s so nice of you to think of that.” Kimberly squeezed the girl’s shoulder, impressed.

  “Well, Rory had just finished telling me that some of the kids are from migrant families and might not have boots or warm coats to get through the winter, so it kind of made sense. Rory doesn’t know yet,” she added. “I thought it would be smart to wait until Grandma’s check gets here.”

  “Kimberly? Out for a walk? And Andrew.” Lieutenant Alejandro Gonzalez set aside his lawn clippers and walked toward them, smiling. “I heard you were back.”

  “News travels fast.”

  “I’m not so sure it was the news of being back or buying three tubs of buttered popcorn to support the baseball team. Bertie Engle was singing your praises when I passed by their place this morning.”

  The Engles were the best, supporting local groups long after they’d raised their own kids and could have shrugged things off. “They’re good people.”

  “They are. Is this your daughter?”

  “Amy, this is Lieutenant Gonzalez. He works with Kimberly’s dad at the police department.”

  “Hi.” Amy stretched out her hand quickly.

  The lieutenant shook her hand and raised an eyebrow toward Drew. “Seems we’ve both done our homework.”

  Kimberly took that as her cue to walk on with Amy. “We’re going to hook right at the next block and put in our shrimp order, okay?”

  “Perfect.” Drew’s smile said she read the situation correctly. “I’ll keep Rocky with me.”

  “Okay. Jandro, I’ll call you later if there’s any change with Dad.”

  “Thank you, Kimberly. And we’ll keep praying.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Drew waited until Kimberly and Amy were out of earshot, put Rocky at ease, then faced the lieutenant. “I made sure I updated myself on command before coming into town.”

  “And when one of my officers spewed your name last night because you annoyed him, I figured I better find out why you were here.”

  “And?”

  “I called Pete, he explained things to me and then I checked out your credentials. You’ve made quite a name for yourself in security, Drew.”

  Drew wasn’t sure what he meant by that, because good security should be nameless and innocuous.

  “It’s not easy running security for big firms these days, and politicians are worse. So Pete and I were talking.”

  Drew waited quietly.

  “He was wondering if you’d be interested in coming to work here. On the force.”

  “I would not.” The words flew out before Drew had time to soften them. “I don’t do police work. I do security. Big difference.”

  “A gun’s a gun,” Jandro argued sensibly. “And Pete told me your job description changes if Vandeveld gets elected. Why not resettle here if that happens? You grew up here, you know the geography, the townies, the layout by heart.”

  A frisson of unease met an ounce of new possibilities at the base of Drew’s neck. “I’m not a cop anymore.”

  “You’ll always be a cop,” Jandro pointed out. “Not much sense pretending otherwise. I didn’t mean to mess up your date,” he went on, and motioned to wear Kimberly and Amy were disappearing around the corner. “But our department’s looking at a series of unexpected changes. Pete thinks you’d fit in, and you have the experience to do a good job. I’d like you to at least think about it while you’re in town. See if it’s doable.”

  Ludicrous, yes. Doable? No. “Jandro, I—”

  “Something to think about,” the older man advised easily. “You’ve got two months before the wedding, plenty of time to give us a look-see and make a decision. Pete’s run a clean department for almost twenty years. We need someone like that to take his place. Not just smart but wise. I think that person could be you.”

  Drew couldn’t have heard him right. He glanced around, then met Jandro’s eyes. “Are you talking about the chief’s job? You’re asking me to apply for the chief’s job?”

  “Yes, what did you think?”

  Drew hadn’t thought. He’d assumed they were talking about rejoining at the street-cop level.

  “Just between you and me, if Pete beats this thing, he’s going to retire. He and Kate want time to travel, do the things they’ve put on hold for thirty years. My wife’s company is pulling her to State College, Pennsylvania, to head up the Eastern Region headquarters, so I’ll be leaving in fourteen months. It would be wrong of me to apply for a job I know I’m qualified for but won’t be here to do.”

  “That’s an upright thing to do, sir.”

  “That’s how we’ve always run things, and how we intend to see it stay,” Jandro replied. “But that leaves us without a head man once Pete makes his announcement. There’s no one in the department right now with the fairness and wisdom it takes to lead. We need a certain number of years and experience, Drew. You’ve got both.” Jandro clapped a hand to his shoulder. “Something to think about. I told Pete I’d mention it if I saw you alone. And then you came walking down the street. But you head on now—I’ve kept you from two pretty girls long enough.”

  Drew started to walk on; then he swung back. “Lieutenant?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you.”

  The middle-aged man gave him a quick salute. “My pleasure.”

  His brain shuffled the information Jandro had shared as he approached the popular seafood dive on the elevated western shore. The opportunity the lieutenant offered was unexpected, but came at the opportune time. He’d already decided to set down roots with Amy.

  Could it be here?

  It was something to consider, but he needed singular focus right now. Jandro would need to be updated on the wedding time-change once the new details were confirmed. He crested the small hill and Kimberly waved him over to the far side of the casual eatery. The counter clerk handed them the broad, flat box filled with spiced fried shrimp, chicken and sweet potato fries, and Drew looked from Kimberly to Amy and back. “You decided you were hungry, I take it?”

  “About the minute I smelled this stuff.” Amy popped a hot chicken bite into her mouth, screeched and grabbed her water cup. “Oh, my gosh!”

  “The sign says, Fresh, Hot Food.” Drew pointed out the banner-sized signs hanging on all four half-open walls. “They mean it, kid.”

  “I’ll say.” She breathed deep to cool her mouth, then pointed outside. “Can we sit at one of the picnic tables and watch the boats go by?”

  “Sure.�
��

  Kimberly led the way over, brushed crumbs from the table, then laughed at Amy’s face. “Rustic is good, honey. And the sun is a natural disinfectant.”

  “You’re sure it’s okay?” Amy glanced around, unsure. “I could go get a cloth and wash this down.”

  “Oh, she’s been in the city too long,” Kimberly noted. “The land of hand sanitizers on every corner has spoiled her for us common folk who dust off seats and tables the way normal folks do.”

  “Amy, it’s fine. Most likely we won’t die,” Drew assured her.

  “Hey, I’m just being careful.” Amy frowned at both of them, then brushed crumbs off her bench seat. “Okay, I’ve got this. We brush old, germ-infected food off the table with our hands—”

  “That way the birds get a snack later,” Kimberly confirmed.

  “And then we eat the food with those very same hands.” Amy sent a pointed smile their way. “Right now I wish I hadn’t aced life science and didn’t understand bacterial reproduction ratios.”

  Kimberly laughed harder. “You throw like a boy and talk like a scientist. You’re a fun mix, kid.”

  Amy slid into her seat. “Thank you. In fairness to me, it should be stated that flocks of pigeons like to gather on picnic tables in our area, so rules may vary from state to state.”

  “I’ll grant you that concession.” Kimberly took one of the Cajun shrimp, popped it into her mouth and sighed once she swallowed it. “If I lived here, I’d eat here every night.”

  “Or at Josie’s Bayou,” Drew reminded her.

  “Or Stan’s,” Amy added.

  “I’m doomed.” Kimberly made a face at them. “Too many good choices.”

  “Which means you don’t cook?”

  Kimberly made a face. “No. The cooking gene skipped me.”

  “Luckily, I do.”

  She paused. Caught his gaze. Stopped chewing. And when she tried to swallow, she started coughing, which wasn’t the romantic gesture Drew was going for. He grabbed a glass of water and handed it to her. “You okay?”

  “Almost.”

  “Dad watches the cooking channel.”

  “Amy.” Drew put a warning note in his voice, one she was sure to ignore.

  “Well, you do.” She held up another chicken strip. “He makes me seasoned chicken when the weather’s nice.”

  “Why when the weather’s nice?” Kimberly asked. “You can’t eat chicken in the winter?”

  “I deep-fry out on our patio,” Drew explained. “We’re on the seventh floor, and I don’t like to make the entire apartment smell like cooking oil, so...”

  “But we’ve done a lot of takeout this year,” Amy acknowledged. “Since the campaign got started, life’s been different.”

  She wasn’t complaining; she was stating a fact. So why did Drew suddenly feel like a first-class loser for putting Rick’s campaign ahead of time with his daughter?

  “Life has a way of doing that to you,” Kimberly agreed. “When you live in Grace Haven, you have nine months of perpetual motion. Autumn kind of roller coasts into Christmas and New Year’s, but then it’s as if the clock grinds down. Winter settles in and for three months everything goes slow and easy. Except for backbreaking shoveling, of course.”

  Drew grimaced on purpose.

  Amy sighed. “I love snow, no matter what Dad says. And I love being in a small town like this, even though it’s not tiny, like I thought. It’s just right.”

  “Drew! Hey, good to see you, how’s everything?” A former high school teammate stopped by their table.

  “Perry, it’s good, man.” Drew stood and shook his hand. “My daughter, Amy. And you know Kimberly Gallagher, don’t you?”

  “Only because I used to gaze from afar,” Perry admitted with a smile. “Kim, I’m sorry about your Dad’s health issues. He’s on our prayer list at church. Tara filled us in, and she’s keeping us updated.”

  “Thank you, Perry.”

  “You’re welcome. Drew, where are you staying? Are you back for good?”

  He shook his head, ignored Amy’s pleading expression and motioned north as he shaded the timeline for security’s sake. “We’re using the rental apartment at the Gallagher house while we’re in town. We’ll head back downstate in November.”

  “Well, make sure you stop by the big Christkindl Market if you’re still here, then. It’s the first weekend of November.”

  “What’s a Christkindl?” Amy asked.

  “A German Christmas fair with all kinds of food.”

  “Lots of arts and crafts and unique things to buy,” Kimberly added. “And a Christmas angel picked to wander the grounds and take pictures with kids.”

  “That sounds so beautiful.” Amy sent a wistful look to her father. “A Christmas angel, Dad? How cool is that? Can we go? If we’re here?”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be eating?”

  Perry laughed as Amy scrunched her nose. “I’ll let you guys get back to your food. I just wanted to say it’s good to see you, man. Real good.”

  He clasped Drew’s hand, and the solidity of the handshake and the words made Drew’s world feel more balanced.

  Kimberly’s phone alarm buzzed. She stood, grabbed one last fried shrimp and held up the phone. “I’ve got to head back so I’m there when Mom calls. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

  He didn’t want her to walk back home alone. He wanted to stroll with her, listening to the sounds of summer surrounding them, but it was time to clamp a firm lid on things even if he didn’t want to. “See you then.”

  She headed down the short drive to the lower road along the shore. He tried not to watch, but he did watch, hoping she’d turn back and maybe smile his way. Wave.

  She didn’t, and that meant she understood the self-imposed rules, but right now he’d like to kick the rules to the curb, put the past where it belonged and see what the future might hold.

  They couldn’t, of course. He’d follow her lead and tuck the attraction aside. “Kimberly is way fun.”

  So much for putting Kimberly on the back burner. “She’s cool.”

  “And she wears the best clothes,” Amy continued. “She always looks perfect, no matter what she’s wearing.”

  He paused midchew and looked at her. “Since when did you start caring about clothes?”

  Her answering frown and flush made prickles of unease race up his back.

  “I don’t really care about clothes,” she assured him, but the way she said it meant the opposite was true. “I just think she looks great.”

  No argument there, and how was he supposed to stop thinking about Kimberly if his own daughter kept bringing her up? “She’s beautiful, but did you know she was a tomboy just like you growing up?”

  “No.” Surprise and doubt lifted her brows. “I don’t believe it, either. There are pictures all around her mother’s office, of Kimberly, Emily and Rory, all in dresses.”

  “That’s for effect,” Drew explained. “Kate would want the office filled with feminine things because it sets the mood for formal events. But I don’t think I saw Kimber in a dress until she was a high school senior, and that was by accident.”

  “How?”

  “They’d rented a limo for the senior ball, the limo was in an accident and all the kids were stranded in the pouring rain. Kimberly’s brother, Dave, and I heard the call, and we took our cars to the scene and gave the kids rides to the ball so they wouldn’t be soaked to the skin. The other three girls were in tears.”

  “But not Kimberly?”

  “No.” Funny, he’d forgotten how nicely she’d taken charge with the other girls. They’d stopped back at the Gallagher house and Kimberly had taken the girls inside. A little fresh makeup, a blow-dryer and a spritz of hairspray later, they looked wonderful. “Kimbe
rly doesn’t panic. That’s another thing you two have in common. So it’s okay to be a tomboy, kid. And to clean up well.”

  She blushed, and that sounded the second nail in his father-of-a-preteen coffin. Liking clothes...blushing...

  The reality of handling an adolescent and puberty by himself smacked him upside the head. With no babysitter, and an hour-long commute, there was too much unsupervised time in Amy’s future.

  But that was the future. This was now.

  First thing tomorrow he’d set up the basement office to facilitate what he and Daryl needed to do as prep work for the wedding. And once Amy was back midday, he’d take her over to Grace Haven Elementary and get her registered.

  And if she wanted to play ball for the next six weeks?

  He’d give her the chance to try out. Kimberly was right. A talented athlete like Amy needed to pursue her own dreams. He’d forgotten that in the quest to help Rick attain his new goal, but being here in his old hometown made him remember that being a parent should come first.

  He dropped some folded cash into a prayer box outside one of the gracious stone churches dotting Center Street as they walked back to the village.

  “What’s that for?” Amy asked, curious.

  “I slip money into the first missions’ box I see whenever God gives me a wake-up call. It’s a way of saying thank you for trying to make a stubborn guy like me smarter.”

  “And you just had this wake-up call?” She gave him her famous “I know my Dad’s crazy when—” look, brows up, skepticism marking her gaze.

  “I did. How would you like to go with me tomorrow afternoon to get you registered for school? And then to see about trying out for the fall league baseball team?”

  Her eyes went wide. Happy anticipation brightened her expression. Was he offering her false hope? He didn’t mean to, but they needed to take care of these things, and if they both fell in love with this beautiful Finger Lakes town, that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.

  He knew God could shut doors and open windows. He just wanted to be smart enough to know when he should stop knocking and start climbing through. He was approaching a fork in the road. And even with wedding security taking precedence, he needed to assess the coming months, their future.