“I concur.” Jandro made a note and shifted his attention to Drew. “Can you run that by the senator today? I can quietly schedule overtime to make sure we have a full contingent on hand, but the cost of that needs to be covered by the senator, not the town or the county.”
“I’ll talk with him today,” Drew promised. He motioned to the site grid he’d brought in. “Everything else seems fine?”
“Yes. We’ll notify the state troopers and the county sheriff, but I’ll tell them not to share the actual information until we need to at the last minute.”
“Perfect.” Drew stood. “Lieutenant, I appreciate this.”
The lieutenant frowned. “Well, there’ll be backlash, but I think once people realize it’s a onetime occurrence, they’ll be okay. And then we’re going to hope the next big wedding picks another lake to host it.”
“But we don’t want to overlook the upside of this wedding and events like this,” Kimberly countered. “This wedding has dropped over one hundred and ten thousand dollars into our economy so far, without the senator’s help on those events. And that’s not including the guest lodgings at area B and B’s, hotels and inns. If we can keep the stress of the road closings minimal, we could actually encourage this kind of event.”
“A valid point,” Jandro conceded. “I’ll take care of my end,” he assured them before directing his attention toward Kimberly alone. “If you think of anything Mrs. Gonzalez or I can do to help out, let us know. I know you girls are running yourselves ragged over there...”
“We’re fine,” she assured him and gave him a big hug. “But thank you. And I’ll keep it in mind. The bride might need to get out from under Drew’s control at some point in time or go pre–wedding day ballistic. I might bring her into town to visit you and Dottie. She’d get a kick out of that.”
She ignored Drew’s glare as she left the room, and she got halfway across the parking lot before he caught up with her and grabbed her arm. “You’re mad because I didn’t include you on this meeting.”
“I’m not mad.” She turned and faced him full-on, and if anger had a color, it was there in her big blue eyes. “I’m furious. You made a big show of wanting to be in on everything concerning this wedding. I’ve tried to play by your rules, but when you leave next month, the rest of us still need to live here. And while one day may not seem like a lot to you guys, a day of no sales during the height of the busy season is a significant loss for people who live paycheck to paycheck.”
She took a short breath and pointed at him, and her look of disappointment cut more than her words. “Before you pull any more side deals, let me remind you that we’re supposed to be working together. And that hasn’t happened for the last week. And FYI, Kate & Company has two weddings to oversee tomorrow, and then I’m taking the rest of Labor Day weekend off to clean out my mother’s neglected gardens. I don’t want to talk weddings or security or anything, got it? I’m going to throw on sweats and a T-shirt and get dirty because while the wheelers and dealers of Vandeveld Securities might hire this stuff done, we simple folks do it ourselves. When there’s time.”
She pivoted and walked away, shoulders back, head high.
He couldn’t go after her. She’d want explanations, and he had none. Mistakes from the past left her brother dead. They weren’t his mistakes. He understood that. But David wasn’t any less dead because of them.
Drew covered all the bases now, always. Maybe too well, but he was okay with that, except when he saw the sheen of angry tears in her pretty blue eyes.
* * *
The rose garden weeds were the first to succumb.
Kimberly set up her mother’s old radio, cranked up a country station and cleaned up those roses in quick order, and because she was already mad at the world, she almost welcomed the occasional prick of a thorn.
She ignored the pretty church bells, waved to a few neighbors who called hello as they walked to church and pretended her lack of attendance wasn’t notable.
“Kimberly, do you want me to wait and go to the later service with you?” Rory came out of the kitchen door about the same time the slap of Drew’s screen door announced his arrival outside. She ignored him and looked up at her sister.
“No, I’m good. Go on ahead.”
“You’re sure? Because I could help you here and then we can go together.”
“Hey, Kimberly!” Amy’s cheerful greeting forced her to turn, and when she did, she aimed her gaze at the excited preteen alone.
“Morning, sweet thing. Are you off to church?”
“Yes.” Amy reached out and clasped her father’s hand. “Do you want to go with us?”
“I’m praying in the garden today.” She said the words casually, but regret poked her, making her think she should pray in the garden. What better place was there? If you believed in that sort of thing, of course.
“I’ve prayed in a few gardens myself,” Drew admitted behind her.
She refused to look up or acknowledge him, and when Rory fell into step beside them, Kimberly kept her attention firmly on dandelion removal. By the time they returned, laughing and easy, nearly two hours later, she’d weeded the front gardens and started shoveling mulch into the wheelbarrow.
Ten minutes later, two strong arms took the shovel out of her hands. “Hey!” She looked up, puffed a loose lock of sweaty hair out of her eyes and met Drew’s gaze.
She didn’t want to look into his eyes. She didn’t want to be attracted to another man who ran hot and cold on whims. She wanted—
“I’ll do this. The kid wants to help you, and there’s not enough room for two people to shovel, so if you let her help out back, I’ll do the mulching out here. Please.”
Stubborn anger reared up, but she’d be stupid to refuse help, especially when the back gardens were ten times worse than the front. “Okay.”
She handed off the shovel, but when she did, he placed one big, strong, gentle hand over hers. The warmth of his palm softened her angst like a lake breeze on a muggy afternoon.
She longed to move forward but forced herself backward.
She’d had enough of cops and cop types. She’d watched the sacrifices her mother made because of her father’s job, she’d said goodbye to her brother far too soon and when she’d given another guy in uniform a chance, he’d dumped her. Steer clear of police was her new mantra, but temptation claimed her every time she came within ten feet of Drew Slade. She’d push that temptation aside, though, because she wanted and deserved honesty. Keeping her out of the loop on Shelby’s wedding because he knew she wouldn’t approve of certain things was too high-handed for Kimberly’s tastes. No matter how good he looked escorting Amy to church, or now, shoveling mulch as if his life depended on it.
She moved toward the backyard. “Amy, come on over here. My mom’s got more trowels and gloves in the garden shed.”
“Gloves?” Amy cringed when she looked at the stained, used gloves. “I’ll just use my hands, I think.”
Kimberly laughed and shoved the gloves into her hands. “You’ll use gloves if you want to help because poison ivy loves to poke through these shade gardens. Keep the gloves on, and don’t scratch your face. And if you think you see some, I’ll be glad to nip it out. I’m not allergic, but you might be.”
“I am.” Amy frowned at the used gloves but tugged them into place. “I got into some at camp last year. It was awful. Hey, isn’t that Tee and her stupid brother?”
“It is.” It was hard to argue the stupid adjective when the kid had been acting mean to Amy. “We’re grilling hot dogs and hamburgers today. They’re coming over to help with the yard work, and then we’ll all eat and go swimming later, before the fireworks.”
“Why is he such a jerk?” she asked as Callan stomped up the front sidewalk toward the front door of the house. “Being nice is so much easier.”
“I hope so.” Amy grabbed a trowel and started working from the back corner, forward, as far as she could get from Callan. Tee dashed out the back door a few minutes later, dressed to work. “Amy, let’s work together!”
“Sweet.” Amy grinned her way, and the two girls chattered like magpies as they weeded. Before too long, Kimberly glimpsed Patriot hostas surrounded by the waving fronds of bleeding hearts. By the time they’d had one lemonade break and a quick ham sandwich, half of the sloping, wide backyard was done.
“This is a lot of gardens.”
She’d been ignoring Drew, kind of like Amy was ignoring Callan, but when he came around back and whistled appreciation for their efforts, she swiped her sleeve across her forehead and nodded. “My mother claims this is satisfying labor. Personally, I’m finding nothing therapeutic about it.”
“Anger management?” he suggested, and she wanted to smack him because he was almost right. She wasn’t nearly as angry as she’d been, so maybe gardening was better therapy than homicide.
“In that case it might be considered a stress reliever,” she conceded.
“I’ll start mulching where the girls were working. Corinne invited us to eat with you guys tonight.”
“You live right there, so it’s kind of a given, isn’t it?”
“I’m not assuming anything until you tell me I’m forgiven for not filling you in on everything,” he said as he started laying down mulch. “I should have trusted your judgment.”
“That’s old news.”
“Not until you forgive me, it isn’t,” he decided, and set to work filling the wheelbarrow again.
“Kimberly, I’m taking the kids for a swim.” Corinne came out the back door a few minutes later. “Are you guys okay here?”
“We’ve got a radio and iced tea. We’re good.”
Corinne headed down the driveway toward the water. Amy and Tee walked off ahead of her, still talking. Callan dragged his feet behind, and when they got almost to the road, he turned abruptly, came back to the house and banged in the front door.
An awkward silence ensued between the two adults. Drew cast a look toward the house, as if wondering what to do.
Kimberly had no words of wisdom. Anger in a grown-up was tough enough. In a kid it became magnified by immaturity, an uneasy combination. They worked quietly until Drew leaned on the shovel, late in the day. “What time do the fireworks start tonight?”
“Around eight because it’s dark by then. Why?”
“Rocky’s not good with fireworks. He reacts as if there’s gunfire. I’ll make sure he’s locked in the apartment.”
“Can we take Amy down to the shore to see them?”
“She’ll love it. She hasn’t found anything about this town she doesn’t love. Except maybe...” He directed his gaze toward the house, which meant Callan. “I’m hoping that will iron itself out in time.”
Kimberly hoped so, too, but when Callan sullenly refused to go to the fireworks with them later, she wasn’t any too sure. Emily thrust a blanket into her arms and grabbed a second one as they headed out the door. “Don’t look back. He wants us to feel sorry for him.”
“I kind of do,” Kimberly whispered.
“Then you’re a softie,” Emily hissed back. “He’s being a brat, and he knows better, so if he wants to sit here and mope, that’s his choice.”
Emily was right, Corinne seemed to agree, and Kimberly didn’t want Drew and Amy to feel badly about the whole thing, but leaving Callan behind was hard.
“Toughen up,” Corinne advised her as they crossed the road to the lakeside park. “Callan’s got to learn to weigh his choices. I’ve talked ’til I’m blue in the face, and he’s determined to put the loss of his father at Drew’s door. And that’s not fair.”
“I know that firsthand,” Kimberly replied. “But I still feel bad for him.”
“I do, too, but my grandma had a great saying, one I keep handy at times like this. She said, ‘Better they cry now than you cry later.’”
“Tough love. I get it. But when he looks up at me with his daddy’s eyes, I go to mush.” They settled their blankets along the slope of the east-facing hill. Figures dashed back and forth as kids lit the night with sparklers and glow sticks. Campfires along the beach were set up to toast marshmallows or build s’mores. After Kimberly set their bag of marshmallows down on the nearest picnic table and turned around, the only spot on a blanket was directly in front of the table, next to Drew. Her sisters and Corinne had not so innocently taken up the first blanket, which meant she could either sit on the damp ground, the chilly picnic bench or the dry blanket.
Next to Drew.
The blanket won. She sat on one side, nearest her family, leaving space for Amy and Tee, but the girls had joined the crowd of kids around the first dock.
Drew leaned back, gazing up, studying the stars. “It’s a perfect night.”
It was. The heat had dissipated, leaving cool, fresh air to bathe her skin, enough to need a sweater or hoodie. And her mother’s gardens were done, so that made the evening even better.
“Stars. Moon. Fireworks.”
It was a recipe for romance, or could have been. Regret hit her as she remembered that kiss. She’d thought—no, hoped—that there was something special between her and Drew, but she’d mistaken attraction for true affection.
That was her mistake, and not one she was likely to make again. Darkness settled in, deepening the shadows. When the first round of fireworks went off, the crowd exclaimed in appreciation. Volley after volley lit the night, and the thunderous follow-ups boomed through the air.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Drew spoke softly, but it wasn’t the fireworks he was watching. It was Tee and Amy, laughing and hugging each other, feminine versions of their fathers.
“Time marches on.” She kept her voice soft, too, beneath the noise surrounding them. “They’re wonderful girls.”
“Listen, Kimberly—”
She shook her head and held up a hand to stop him, but he didn’t stop. He sat more upright and faced her. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but it’s important. I get a little overbearing when it comes to Rick and his family—”
“A little?”
“More than a little,” he conceded. “But I owe them. I owe him. And with all that’s happened this past year, the changes we’re all going to face because of his candidacy, I wanted this wedding perfectly safe. It’s my way of thanking him for believing in a stupid drunk a bunch of years back.”
Her heart softened.
Atonement was something she understood well, because she’d been a jerk about Dave’s death for years. “I hear you.”
“I’ll back off,” he promised, facing forward, keeping his eyes trained on the beautiful night before them. “Everything is done. All plans are made. We’re down to implementation, and that means I’ve got two weeks of relative tranquility on my hands. That will probably drive me crazy, but I’m going to try to keep busy while staying calm and cool. Okay?”
It was okay, and his words offered deeper insight. Making sure this wedding went off without a hitch was repayment, and she’d help make that happen because it was a concept she understood. She was about to speak when a deep-throated bark sounded in the distance behind them. The bark grew louder, closer and more insistent, while the next batch of fireworks claimed the night.
But not for Drew. He was on his feet instantly and running back, toward the house.
Rocky.
She stood up and followed him. The sound of the big dog’s agitated bark grew closer, and then the long, screaming screech of car brakes split the night.
And when the gut-wrenching thud said the car couldn’t come
to a stop in time, fear and adrenaline pushed her to run faster.
She raced the last hundred feet and came to a quick stop at the curb. Drew, on his knees, bent low over his beloved friend, crooning words of comfort to the stricken shepherd. For just a moment, emotion threatened to claim her, but seeing Drew’s heartbroken face, she couldn’t give in.
Help him.
She clamped down the welling sympathy as she raced to his side. “Is he alive?”
“Barely.”
“I’ll get the car.” She didn’t pause for breath as she ran up to the house, crashed through the door, grabbed the car keys and brought the SUV down the driveway to the road’s edge.
People had circled around, their backs to the fireworks, saddened by the tragedy marring the day. Jandro Gonzalez and Bob Gunther helped Drew lift the big dog into the back of the vehicle. Drew climbed in after him. “Can you drive?” He looked at Kimberly, and the pain in his eyes stumbled her resolve, but she tucked Amy into the passenger seat and headed north, toward the emergency veterinary clinic.
In the space of a minute, everything had changed, but there was an extra heavy burden weighing on Kimberly’s shoulders as she drove.
She’d seen Callan’s face as she ran into the house. She’d passed him on the curving driveway, and the look on his face said guilty as charged, which meant Callan had some serious reckoning ahead of him.
Had he released Rocky from the apartment? Gone in to see the dog?
She didn’t know, and right now she needed to focus her attention on Drew, Amy and the beautiful shepherd who took his job and his family seriously. Take care of him, God. Them. Please. And please don’t let Rocky die.
She’d called ahead to the veterinary ER, and a crew rushed a gurney to the back of the car as soon as she pulled in. They bundled Rocky onto it, applied the restraints and had him whisked into the depths of triage before Drew could get inside to give his name.
“Will he die?” Amy whispered, clinging to Kimberly’s side.
Love Inspired January 2016, Box Set 1 of 2 Page 33
