The Comeback Girl

by Debra Salonen

Kristin wondered if that had contributed to his weight gain. No doubt he would slim down as he grew taller, but poor eating habits might make it hard to keep off the pounds.

  “My dad said you massage people.”

  “That’s right. Have you ever had a massage?”

  “Heck no,” he said, turning away. She caught a glimpse of his telltale blush.

  Something she’d seen in the Gold Creek Chamber of Commerce information brochure came back to her. “Doesn’t your school have a career day?” His slight shrug might have been a yes. “Do you think your classmates would be interested in learning about massage therapy? I could bring my bench and give a bunch of five-minute massages.”

  He abandoned his task and walked a little closer. “The kind where you sit up instead of lying down? I saw a guy doing that at the fair last year. Can you make any money?”

  “A dollar a minute for a chair massage.”

  He looked impressed. “Sixty bucks an hour. Not bad.”

  His grin was so Donnie-like, Kris felt the tears return. She would have liked to get to know this child better.

  “Where’s my dad?”

  “He went to find Zach.”

  “Will your son change his mind?”

  Her bottom lip started to tremble. What a cry-baby! “I doubt it. Once his mind is made up…”

  “Sounds like my mother.”

  Kris hadn’t expected such candor. “My sister, too.”

  Lucas took another step toward her. “My mom’s going to Africa.”

  Kris could see in his eyes how much Sandy’s broken promise had hurt her son. “I know. Did you want to go?”

  He took a deep breath. “Maybe. I’m not sure. Her husband doesn’t like me…uh…kids.”

  A telling amendment, she thought.

  “He was married before and has two daughters somewhere. He doesn’t have time for them, either. He’s too busy.”

  Kristin sighed and snuggled down in the glider. The afternoon sun was starting to dip toward the west and a chilly breeze had blown in. “It’s sad when families get shortchanged by careers.”

  “What kind of things do you and Zach do?”

  His question surprised her, but she answered honestly. “He helps me run my business. I’m terrible about remembering appointments. He learned how to balance my checkbook when he was eight because I was so bad at it. The bank once called me four times in two weeks.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Really? My dad would shoot you.”

  Kris made a face. “That was a couple of years ago. I’m better now—thanks to Zach and my computer. But that’s business. For fun, we go skating sometimes. And we both like to fish. He has to put the worms on my hook. I don’t like that part.”

  Lucas laughed. It was a nice sound, and Kristin was pleased with herself—until she looked up and saw Donnie, Zach and Sarge standing at the rear gate. She hadn’t heard them approach.

  She leaped to her feet, still clutching the throw. She raced to her son. She ignored the stay-back look he gave her and wrapped her arms around him. “I love you, Zach. I can share you, but please don’t make me give you up entirely. I couldn’t take that.”

  He stayed rigid for a few seconds then dropped the dog’s leash and hugged her back. “I’ll stay with you, Mom. I probably couldn’t take Sarge if I went to my father’s place. He lives in a high-rise apartment in Seattle.”

  “Really?” she squeaked, her throat too tight to speak.

  “He’s planning to move to Gold Creek permanently, but it might take a few months.” Zach looked to his left to where Kristin sensed Donnie was standing. “And, uh, Donnie said he has a guitar for me.”

  Kris looked over her son’s shoulder. Donnie smiled a bit sheepishly.

  “I haven’t played since Conundrum broke up,” Donnie said. “But Lucas plays. Maybe you guys can jam.”

  Lucas looked skeptical, but Kristin saw a flicker of interest in his eyes.

  “Zach, does this mean you’re willing to stay here if I marry Donnie?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” he said. “Whatever.”

  “What about you, Lucas?” she asked the boy who was now on one knee petting Sarge. “I know you’re not wild about this idea, either.”

  Lucas shrugged, then looked up at Zach. “Cool dog.”

  “Thanks. I think he’d like it here.”

  Lucas pointed toward a good-size doghouse that was painted the same color as the Grimaldo home. “Me ’n Dad built that for Sheba. She died last year. She was a Border collie. If she wanted you to go somewhere, she’d nip at your heels, like she was herding you.”

  Zach knelt, too. Kristin’s heart almost broke at the kindness in his smile. “Sarge used to belong to a miner who died. He likes to chase rabbits, but he never catches ’em.”

  “Cool,” Lucas said. “Rabbits are okay.”

  Kristin felt Donnie looking at her, and she couldn’t stop herself from looking up. His smile was tentative but hopeful. She wondered if they were thinking the same thing: if this truce held, she might actually end up as Mrs. Donnie Grimaldo.

  But that wasn’t going to happen until she took her sister’s advice and tested the spark. She looked at Donnie and said, “Could we take a walk?”

  He looked surprised. “Sure. I’ll show you the creek.” To the boys, who were still petting Sarge, he said, “Lucas, why don’t you show Zach the game you got for your birthday. Kris and I are going to be at the creek. Talking.

  “Zach, as soon as we get back, I’ll show you that guitar. We’ll see if it’s up to your standards.”

  Zach didn’t say anything, but he looked pleased. And he followed Lucas into the house without hesitation.

  “That was nice. About the guitar,” Kris said.

  He shrugged as he directed her to a path leading away from the yard. “An icebreaker, not a bribe. I swear.”

  “Those kinds of fine distinctions are sounding pretty political. Are you practicing?”

  He walked at her side. They moved slowly since her shoes weren’t designed for rocks and loose pebbles. The oaks that lined the upper flood plain of the creek cut the breeze so Kristin could enjoy the brisk temperature without shivering.

  “I seriously doubt that I have a prayer in this election, but like Sam said last night, it will be good experience. I’ll know what to do differently in 2006.”

  “What will you do if you lose?”

  “Collect unemployment.” His wink told her he was kidding. “Actually, I haven’t thought that far ahead, but I’d like to stay in law enforcement. Or maybe I’ll go back to college and finish my degree. I’m just a year short.”

  He paused. “Does it bother you? The fact that I might lose.”

  “Andi says you’ll win, hands down.”

  Donnie chuckled. “And we all know better than to argue with Andi.”

  They walked the rest of the way in silence, but the chatter of the birds—vocal but unseen—filled the air. As they neared the winding ribbon of trees and reeds, Kris heard the trickle of water. “I expected the creek to be dry this late in the season.”

  “No. Lucas said it’s still knee-deep in spots.”

  “You don’t come down here?”

  He shook his head. “I try to give him some space. I felt better about it when Sheba was around, but I know Lucas needs to be alone sometimes.”

  “How come you didn’t get another dog?”

  “I thought we were all leaving town.”

  “Are you disappointed?”

  He didn’t answer until they reached the granite shelf. To one side, a grouping of willows provided shade and a convenient low branch to lean against. They relaxed, side-by-side, and stared at the ripples on the surface of the creek as water bugs scurried about.

  Donnie sighed. “Truthfully? Yes. I still want to see the world, but this isn’t the right time. And now, I have a new goal, and a new family. I’m pretty excited about all of that.”

  She turned to face him. “Are you? Really?”

  “Of co
urse.”

  “Then how come you haven’t kissed me?”

  He looked surprised, then sheepish. “This is going to sound stupid, but I’m intimidated.”

  “What?” she shouted. The invisible birds shot like a cloud of locusts from the willow and disappeared over the rise. “Why?”

  “Because you left here a girl and came back a woman. A gorgeous, amazing woman of the world. You’ve been places and seen things and I’m still here. Just the same me.”

  The words were so close to what she’d told Andi that morning, Kris couldn’t speak. So she let her hands do the talking. She touched his face, his jaw, his brow. There was a new crease that hadn’t been there at seventeen. His beard was a little coarser, but if she remembered correctly there was a spot—the size of a nickel—under his chin where no hair grew.

  Her fingers skimmed his cheek then gently tilted his head back. Still there. She could remember kissing that spot, tasting it.

  He put his arms around her. Even through layers of clothes, she could feel his heart thud against her chest. If she turned slightly, she’d find that resting spot she loved so much.

  But she wasn’t here to rest. She was here to find the spark that had been missing far too long.

  She wound the fingers of her left hand through his hair and brought his face closer. With her right hand, she touched his lips. They parted and his tongue flickered playfully, making her smile.

  Their gazes met. And held. He lowered his head. Their lips met. Frank. Curious. Friendly.

  Kris closed her eyes and let the sensation envelop her.

  Oh, my, yes. The spark was definitely there.

  DONNIE HAD TRIED every tactic possible during the past four days, including begging, but Kristin flatly refused to attend the Friday-afternoon engagement party of his co-worker Cory Brandell.

  “The moment belongs to the young couple,” she’d insisted a few minutes earlier on the phone. “They’re doing this the right way for the right reason. I don’t think we should detract from their celebration with our news.”

  Her refusal had irked him, even though he understood what she meant. “I wasn’t going to blurt out an announcement,” he replied. “I just wanted to introduce you to my friends.”

  “Most of those people know me, Donnie. I’m the infamous triplet—the one who caused a scandal then left town, returning years later with an illegitimate child. Ask anyone and they’ll tell you my life story.”

  She had a point, but he was like a kid with a secret. He couldn’t wait to tell somebody. “Kristin Sullivan is going to marry me,” he wanted to yell at the top of his lungs in the center of town.

  “Hey, Donnie,” Margie called as he entered the common room. “Nice flowers,” she said, nodding at the bouquet Kristin had insisted he take to the bride-to-be.

  “Hi, Margie. Where’s the lady of the hour? I want to get rid of these.”

  “Cory and the future Mrs. Cory are in with Magnus. What have you been up to all week? I’d like to say you look rested, but, frankly, you look like hell.”

  He chuckled. “Tell me what you really think, Margie.”

  She gave him one of her looks—one that said the bull stops here.

  Donnie used his free hand to pull a square envelope from his jacket pocket. Kristin had maintained that it was too short notice to issue invitations to a wedding that would take place in two days, but Donnie had prevailed. “Ten invitations. Simple. Private. Your sisters and their husbands, Ida Jane and a few close friends.”

  Jenny had solved the dilemma by purchasing a dozen small watercolor prints, on the backs of which she’d written the date and time. “This way even if they can’t come, they’ll have something to remember it by,” she’d explained when she presented them to him. He’d been touched.

  Donnie slipped the envelope into Margie’s in-tray. “I have been a little busy. Courting.”

  Margie gaped at him. “What?”

  “That’s an invitation to my wedding, but you have to keep it to yourself.”

  “It’s a secret?” she said in a hushed voice that made every head in the room turn her way.

  He tapped her on the shoulder with his bouquet. “No. But this is Cory’s day, and I don’t want to steal his thunder.” Not true, but he’d behave—for Kristin.

  Margie carefully opened the cream-colored velum envelope and peeked inside. Her head popped up, mouth wide. Oh my God, she mouthed then jumped to her feet and hugged him fiercely. Donnie’s quick reflexes saved the flowers.

  “What’s going on?” Bethany asked, joining them.

  Donnie had an invitation for her, too, but he would wait until later to give it to her. “She misses me,” he said with his last bit of air.

  Beth obviously didn’t buy his excuse, but her attention was diverted when the door to the sheriff’s private office opened and three people walked out—Magnus Brown, followed by a young couple holding hands.

  “Hey, Donnie,” Cory hailed. “Glad you could make it. Come meet Meghan.”

  Donnie crossed the room and presented his flowers.

  “Wow, these are beautiful,” she exclaimed. “Thank you so much. I can’t believe you’re all being so nice to me when I’m taking Cory away from you.”

  Donnie glanced at his boss, who nodded grimly. Cory was supposed to fill Donnie’s slot when he left. Donnie wasn’t concerned about that since he wasn’t going anywhere, but he’d been counting on Cory’s support during the election.

  Magnus cornered Donnie a minute later. “You know what this means, Grimaldo? It means you rethink this silly air marshals thing. I’m going to need you. Your town needs you.”

  This was not the time or place to announce his change in plans. “I’ve already been accepted, Magnus.”

  “Well, too bad,” Magnus snapped. “Back when you first suggested this cockamamy idea I agreed to let you leave on a trial basis—in case it didn’t work out. But now that Brandell’s given notice, I’m going to have to hire someone to replace him. If you leave, I’m going to have to fill your slot, too.” He glared at Donnie. “I’ll need your answer by the end of next week.”

  “You’ll have it,” Donnie replied. But you won’t like it. He watched while Cory and his bride-to-be cut and served the decorated cake from the Sweet Tooth Bakery. A fixture with the high-school crowd in his day, the shop had changed hands last year. The new owners—a Pakistani couple from San Jose—promptly remodeled eliminating the booths and tables to make room for their catering business. They were delivering a wedding cake to the bordello tomorrow afternoon.

  He ate several bites without tasting anything as he made his way to Edgar Olson’s desk. After nudging aside a thick pile of folders, Donnie rested his hip on one corner. “So, how’s it going?” he asked, chasing a few crumbs around his plate with his plastic fork.

  “Not bad. Heard you’ve been a busy beaver.”

  Ed was in his late fifties. He wore cowboy boots with his uniform and sported a silver mustache that he kept meticulously trimmed. “I cleaned out my garage if that’s what you mean,” Donnie said nonchalantly.

  Ed was a friend and had been a mentor to him since Donnie started with the department as a high-school trainee. Donnie knew him to be calm and unflappable, and there was no one he’d trust more in a dangerous situation.

  “Yup, that’s what I meant,” Ed said with a wink. “Cleaned up some loose ends, too, as I heard it.”

  Loose ends. Is that what this is all about? Donnie knew it wasn’t that simple. He handed Ed an invitation. “If Edith’s feeling up to it, we’d love to see you both.” Ed’s wife—a seven-year breast cancer survivor—had learned last July that the disease had returned.

  Ed removed the pretty sheet of paper and read the message then tucked it in his pocket. “I’m sure she’d like that, if she’s having a good day. You just never know.”

  “We’re keeping it low-key for obvious reasons.”

  “What obvious reasons?” Ed asked.

  Donnie had to think a mi
nute. Despite that one memorable kiss at the creek, he wasn’t ready to call this a love match. True, he loved Kristin, but he had yet to hear those words from her lips. “Second marriages…”

  Ed frowned. “Kristin hasn’t been married before.”

  Donnie looked at his mangled piece of cake. True. She hadn’t. He dumped the cake in the trash. “I meant me. But you know about the circumstances with Tyler Harrison, and Kris…we decided to do this to solidify her position when she goes to court.”

  Ed rocked back in his chair and crossed his arms. He was a small, wiry man with surprisingly fast reflexes and a keen mind. “So, this is a sort of marriage of convenience?”

  Donnie was beginning to hate that phrase. “Sorta.”

  “You don’t love her.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You do love her.”

  “I didn’t say that, either.”

  Ed’s mustache flickered. “Guess I’ll have to make up my own mind since you don’t seem to know.”

  Donnie didn’t care for the hint of sarcasm in Ed’s tone. “I know what I’m doing and why, I just don’t feel it’s something I need to talk about.”

  Ed sat forward, his expression serious. “Guess this means you didn’t get in?”

  Ed was the only colleague who knew about Donnie’s application. He’d been listed as a reference.

  “Actually, I did. But I turned it down.”

  Ed rose and put a hand on Donnie’s shoulder. Eye-to-eye, he said, “Well, the FAM program is missing out on a terrific candidate, but I’ll sleep a lot easier knowing you’re on the job right here in Gold Creek.”

  The band of tension across Donnie’s neck and shoulders loosened just a bit. “Thanks, Ed,” he said with a grin. “I appreciate that.”

  Ed winked. “No problem. I’ll see you Sunday.”

  Donnie watched him walk away. A man of few words. A good man. Donnie would have told him about the election, but Jonathan had asked him to keep mum until after the formal announcement.

  “What’s up?” a voice asked.

  Bethany. “Hey. Just the person I wanted to see. Would you walk me to my car, Miss Murdock? There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he said, leading the way to the employees’ entrance.