She attended the city council session Thursday evening with a large number of town citizens. The knot of worry eased a bit once she realized most people in the crowd strongly supported keeping Hangman’s Loss a low-key, quiet mountain town. One speaker, a local history buff, explained the significance of some of the older buildings in town. His story fleshed out what she already knew, that the town name came from an event in the late eighteen eighties when a man accused of murder had been pursued by a posse with vigilante justice in mind. He had eluded the posse until he was finally tracked to a camp beside the lake. With the help of some local settlers, he’d escaped the noose they had hung for him and in the end had been able to establish his innocence.
One surprise of the evening was Brad, handsome in dress blues. It was the first time she’d seen him in uniform. He gave a presentation on police issues, and asked the council to consider the need to fund a larger police force if the city expanded as developers intended. She found it interesting how the mayor gushed in her praise of the police department and its leader. She wondered if anyone else realized the mayor’s possessiveness toward Brad wasn’t strictly professional.
The tone of the meeting changed, however, when the mayor brought a motion to change city zoning that limited buildings in the downtown to two stories. Brad had certainly called that one. One city councilman, a hefty man in his mid-thirties whose nameplate identified him as George Van Horn, took up the issue once Marla had spoken. His pompous tone when he suggested the townspeople trust those with experience in these matters to make the best decision for the city grated on her nerves.
Debate lasted quite some time, especially when members of the public took their turns at the mike. When her name was called, Emma gripped her notecard and took her place at the podium. Brad caught her eye and gave her a thumbs-up. Despite the butterflies in her stomach, she spoke for her allotted three minutes in favor of keeping the current zoning restrictions to preserve the character of Hangman’s Loss. Most of the speakers from the community also supported keeping the ordinance and limiting development. Applause broke out when the decision was made to put off the final vote to allow for more study of the issue.
At the break midway through the meeting, Brad started down the aisle, eyes on Emma’s, his intent clearly to speak with her. The mayor made a beeline to intercept him. Emma watched with mild amusement when Marla gripped those red-tipped fingers on his arm, tilting her head toward his as she spoke earnestly. Brad caught Emma’s gaze, shrugged his apology, and followed the mayor to a hall behind the dais. Emma ended up leaving after the session without the chance to speak to him.
The next day, she and Dory cleaned the last of the cabins. Staying occupied helped to keep her from wondering when she’d see Brad again. She took a few hours before bedtime to fiddle once again with her website. She’d taken some photos of the cabins, the boats, and the lake and loaded them onto the site. Earlier that day, she’d placed the order for t-shirts, ball caps, and fisherman’s hats. Going with the town’s quirky take on its history, she designed a noose to frame the Hangman’s Loss Resort logo. Her order for brochures was currently at a print shop she’d found in Bishop. Everything was coming along nicely. Emma yawned, then tiredly shut down her computer.
Heading to the bathroom to brush her teeth, she frowned when she heard a buzzing. It was so unusual for her to get a call that it took Emma a few seconds to realize the sound came from her cell phone set on vibrate. She’d silenced it for the city council meeting the night before. Finally locating it on her nightstand, her heart gave an extra bump when she saw the display. “Brad?”
“Sweetheart.” His voice was a bit rough, as if he were battling fatigue.
“I didn’t expect to hear from you tonight.”
“Emmaline, you should expect to hear from me. Sometimes you could even call me to say good night.”
“Is that why you called? To say good night?” Emma smiled, feeling her heart do a lazy flip.
“Yeah, I wish I could say good night in person like I did last week, but I’m stuck here at the station. I’ve been missing you.”
Emma’s mind flashed to his manner of saying good night that evening and she could feel warmth spread low in her belly.
“Sooo, what are you wearing?” He dropped his voice in an exaggeratedly seductive tone.
She giggled. “Cotton again, so I think your prurient phone sex fantasies are doomed.”
Humor laced his tone. “Darlin’, that’s the beauty of phone sex. You could be wearing sackcloth and my imagination would take care of the rest.”
“I think I’m going to have to report that the police chief is a pervert.”
She could hear the smile in his voice when he asked, “Are you still going to the picnic tomorrow?”
“Yes. I told your sister I would help her set up. Actually, I think she told me I would help set up.” Emma heard the creak of a chair and she imagined Brad leaned back at a big desk covered with papers.
“I’m glad because it means I’ll get to see you. I’ll be busy with some official duties in the morning but I’ll catch up with you when I can.”
“Okay. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too.” There was a long silence, then he said, “Good night, Emmaline.”
“Good night, Brad.” Emma stared at her phone until the display light went out. She was in deep water with Bradley Gallagher, and she wasn’t even looking for a lifeline.
***
Emma hefted one end of an oversize cooler heavy with ice, and waited for Maddy to get the other end. Together they muscled it to a shady location at the head of a picnic table. A beautiful old tree cast a wide circle of shade over the spot chosen by the Gallagher family.
“Here’s fine,” Maddy huffed. She nodded to a couple of cases filled with beer and soda. “Emma, if you’ll put those into the ice, I’ll get the last load out of my car.”
Emma looked around the park as she buried bottles and cans. Families had already staked out the prime picnic sites at the tables or with blankets spread on the grass. The lake lapped at a pebbled shore on the far end of a grassy slope, and floats in the water delineated the swimming area. The entire picture was so perfect it looked like an advertisement for the ideal family vacation spot.
Across the lawn a hose filled the dunk tank. The water had to be freezing. Would Brad really get up there in a few hours? She’d have to see that. Maddy pulled a wagon loaded with a huge watermelon and overstuffed bags to the picnic table. Emma finished with the bottles, drying her chilled hands on her shorts.
“Is Brad really doing ‘Dunk a Hunk’?”
“You’re here, aren’t you? He said he would if you came.” Maddy looked around the park. “I wonder where he is.”
She didn’t see Brad but spotted Trish Gallagher crossing the lawn, a large basket in her hands. She was accompanied by a dark-haired young woman toting a baby in a carrier, and walking alongside them was a lanky man with a bulging diaper bag and barbecue utensils. The group arrived at the picnic table and Trish introduced Emma to Brad’s sister Jenny, her husband Derek, and their baby son Brandon.
Jenny smiled widely and held out a hand to shake. “I’m so glad to finally meet you, Emma. I’ve had to rely on Mom and Maddy to fill me in because Brad doesn’t tell me anything. I only found out he had a girlfriend yesterday.”
Emma hesitated, then shook the offered hand. “Nice to meet you, but you have the wrong impression. I’m not Brad’s girlfriend.”
Jenny focused her green eyes, shades lighter than her brother’s, on Emma. “Maybe it’s not official but I think you meet the criteria,” she said. She transferred the baby to her shoulder, then counted off on her fingers. “One, you had dinner at Brad’s house with him, Mom, and Maddy.” Looking at her mother, she asked, “Has Brad ever invited a girl to dinner with you, Mom?”
At Trish’s shake of her blonde head, Jenny continued, “Two, you were spotted out on the lake with my brother for a romantic sunrise canoe excursion. An
d then there’s the biggie, number three. Number three’s a question. Has he kissed you brainless on more than one occasion?”
Emma laughed. “That’s kind of an odd combination to qualify as Brad’s girlfriend. And for the record, he didn’t invite me to dinner. I showed up to talk to Brad, your mother and sister were there already, and your mother wouldn’t let me leave.”
“So he did kiss you. Absence of denial means he did.” She beamed at Emma. “And dinner? That wouldn’t have happened if Brad hadn’t wanted you there. He’s always been skilled at keeping his family separate from his female interests.”
“Well,” Emma responded, “I don’t want to question your experience here, but I must point out that while I don’t know what we are, we are not boyfriend and girlfriend.”
At that moment Emma caught sight of Brad crossing the grass with another man nearly as tall as him, who had a lean muscular body. They were heading toward the picnic table. When they joined the group, the man’s gaze immediately sought out Maddy, who had gone unusually quiet.
“Emmaline, this is an old friend back in town, Logan Ross. Logan, this is Emmaline Kincaid, who I’m trying to convince to be my girlfriend.”
“See,” Jenny crowed. “I knew it.”
Emma shook hands while Logan gave her a long look. Brad reached for the baby on Jenny’s shoulder, settling him into the crook of his arm. “You might remember Jenny, Logan, though she was quite a bit younger the last time you saw her.”
Logan Ross possessed a stillness, a containment of self that suggested strong self-discipline. He smiled easily at Jenny while seemingly attuned to his surroundings. “I remember you in braces and pigtails,” he glanced at the baby, “and now you’re a mom.”
“Yep. Nice to see you again, Logan, and this is my husband, Derek.”
Emma noticed Maddy hanging back, face stormy while, head down, she busily set out paper plates and other picnic supplies. Then, as if she’d suddenly reached a decision, she straightened and marched over to where Logan was making small talk with Trish and Jenny. She stopped in front of him, pulled back her fist, and would have plowed it into his belly if he hadn’t caught it in mid-flight.
“Bad idea, Blondie.”
Steam all but erupting from her ears, Maddy jerked free and growled, “What the hell are you doing here, Logan? You turned tail and ran out of town ten years ago, and you can do the same thing again. How about now?”
Brad passed off the sleeping Brandon to Derek before laying a restraining hand on his sister’s shoulder. “I invited Logan to eat with us so you’ll need to dial it back, Maddy.”
She turned hot blue eyes on her brother. “Don’t you have any family loyalty? This bottom feeder doesn’t deserve to sit at the table with decent people.”
Emma felt like she was at a tennis match and saw that the exchange was having the same effect on the other members of the family. Eyes darted from one to the other, watching the drama with high interest.
Logan lifted a warning brow when Maddy whirled, fist clenched again. “You won’t like what happens if you try that again. Let’s take a walk.”
“You can go to hell,” Maddy responded, vibrating with anger. “I’ve been looking forward to this picnic for weeks, and I won’t let you spoil it for me.”
He stared her down. “Come for a walk, Maddy. Unless you want everyone to hear what I have to say to you.”
Maddy looked around and Emma saw Maddy’s gaze narrow at the middle-aged couple at a neighboring picnic table avidly watching the argument.
“Fine.” She turned and stalked off toward the lake, leaving Logan to stride calmly after her.
“Whew.” Trish Gallagher eased herself into a camp chair, expression troubled. “Nobody can get her back up like Maddy. I sure hope she doesn’t try to hit him again.”
“Logan can take care of himself,” Brad replied. He reached for Emma’s hand. “Let’s go for a walk, too.”
Chapter Thirteen
She crossed the grass with him and when she tried releasing his hand he held firm.
“C’mon, sweetheart. I like holding hands with you.”
Emma sighed. “You’re incorrigible.”
He smiled. “Only where you’re concerned.” As they strolled past picnickers, Emma decided to let herself enjoy the moment. She knew she had never been happier. She had friends in Maddy and Dory, and was developing a community with the townspeople. She had never felt like she belonged someplace, but she did now. And topping it all like a bright shiny crown was Bradley Gallagher.
She had told him the bare bones of her past and he’d acted like it didn’t matter. Now he wanted her for his girlfriend. But she couldn’t help thinking maybe it was all an illusion. She would have to tell him the rest, and when he knew everything, he’d likely feel differently.
A tempting thought occurred to her. What if she didn’t tell him the rest? All of that seemed so removed from her now. What if it didn’t matter? She’d dealt with it, hadn’t she? When she’d first met Brad, she’d had a hard time seeing past the cop. But by simply being who he was, she’d been able to see the man behind the badge. Now it would be so easy to let that part of her life lie dead, to leave it behind her and build on a new foundation.
She couldn’t let him kiss her senseless and have sexy nighttime phone conversations if she didn’t want to build a relationship with him. And something inside her yearned for him, for everything he embodied. He was strong and caring, a leader in the community, and he made her feel like she had never felt before. That by simply being herself, she mattered.
Not telling him every detail of her past wasn’t deception, but a niggling doubt said it wasn’t honesty, either. Brad had the right to know.
She had to face the reality she was falling hard for him. The possibility he felt the same thrilled, and at the same time frightened her senseless. She didn’t want to step back. She wanted to experience this, to see where it would go.
Brad led her across the grass in a direction opposite from the way Maddy and Logan had gone. People called to him when they passed and he responded with a quick wave or a nod, but didn’t stop until an officer in uniform approached. Emma recognized Jack Morgan. He nodded to Emma, then turned to his boss.
“Truckload of hands from the Broken Arrow have shown up.”
Brad raised a brow. “And?”
Jack shrugged. “There’s some troublemakers at that ranch. I’ll keep an eye on them.”
“Don’t hassle them because you’re pissed at Eli MacElvoy, Jack. He’s a good man. They’re here to have a good time like everyone else.”
Jack scowled, but nodded. “Pissed doesn’t even come close. But I won’t hassle them unless they cause trouble.”
A Frisbee flew through the air and landed at Jack’s feet. He bent to scoop it up at the same time a small form barreled toward them, skidding to a stop in front of Jack. Adrian Calderon stood stock-still, brown eyes wide, expression wary.
“This yours?” Jack asked, holding up the Frisbee.
Dory trotted toward them, an arm going around Adrian’s shoulder. “Sorry, that was my poor Frisbee throwing skill.”
“No problem.” Jack eyed the boy. “You want your Frisbee back?”
Adrian stood staring for a long minute, backed up a step, then turned and raced off. Bert Morales and a gray-haired woman Emma guessed was Dory’s mother sat across the grass in camp chairs. Adrian climbed onto his grandfather’s lap and wrapped his arms around his neck.
Dory uttered a soft sigh.
“What’s wrong with Adrian?” Brad asked.
“He’s dealing with some issues,” Dory muttered. Jack handed Dory the Frisbee. “He looked scared of me. Tell him I don’t gobble up little kids.” He nodded at the group and walked away.
Dory tapped her forehead with a closed fist, frustration evident.
“You okay?” Emma asked.
“I’m not sure.” Dory’s gaze was on her son sitting on his grandfather’s lap. “About the only man Adrian
trusts right now is Dad. He seems to particularly distrust big men, men who are like his father.”
“Would he talk to me? I’m not as big as Rod or Jack. I might be able to get him to open up,” Brad offered.
Emma let out a snorting laugh, and Dory gave an answering smile. “Yeah, right. You’re quite diminutive at what, six two? But thanks, Brad. I’m taking him to a therapist. If she recommends that he should interact with adult men to get over his fear, you’re the first guy I’ll call.”
“Anytime.”
As they waved good-bye to Dory, Emma realized that Brad meant exactly that. Anytime Dory, or anyone for that matter, needed help, Brad was their guy.
They continued their walk, and Emma couldn’t help noticing the interested looks sent her way when people spotted her hand held securely in Brad’s. It felt so good to be with him she knew she was being sucked into the fantasy. Who was she kidding? She should get it over with and tell him. The man valued honesty and would never accept her holding back from him. “We can’t do this.” Emma pulled Brad to a stop.
“What? Walk in the park holding hands?”
“Yes. We can’t act like we’re together. Your family thinks we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. Every one of the townspeople here who sees us together is going to tell someone else. ‘Look at Chief Gallagher and flighty Trudy Kincaid’s daughter, holding hands. What’s he thinking?’”
His expression remained mild. “I don’t mind if people know I’m with you. And when people see you they see Emmaline Kincaid, not Trudy Kincaid’s daughter.”
“Maybe in L.A., Brad, but not here in small-town America. People here knew my grandparents and they knew my mother. They knew she got knocked up and lit out of town. They know my grandfather died without family around to take care of him and they will judge me for that. It’s human nature.”
“Once you tell folks that your mom was sick at the same time as your grandfather, they’ll understand.”
“It’s not only that.” She looked at him solemnly. “There are other reasons we can’t be together.”
“Emmaline, let’s leave it for now.” He pulled up her clasped hand and rubbed his lips across her knuckles. “I know you want to talk, and that you’re not comfortable with our relationship, but let’s take today as it comes.” He looked at her with those steady green eyes, and Emma felt her determination waver. “We’ll eat some barbecue, drink a little beer, and enjoy the people. We’ll have that conversation soon, but let’s take today to enjoy being together.”
Flash Point Page 11
