Chapter 6
T he soccer fields had gotten an upgrade. Well, not the fields themselves, other than they clearly no longer had goal nets. But the parking lot was a lot bigger and had been repaved sometime in the past couple of years, and the outbuilding that housed the bathrooms had been renovated. Morgan hadn’t arrived before I did, but I’d only just turned off my SUV when his little car came zipping into the lot. He parked next to me.
“You drove today!”
He sounded disappointed about that, but I didn’t understand why. The fields were clear on the other side of town. It would have taken me at least a half hour to walk it. Maybe a little less if I double timed it. “It’s too far and too cold to walk.”
“Alas, that’s true.” He rubbed his chapped hands together, which reminded me of the trip I’d taken yesterday evening. I leaned into my car, grabbed the paper bag, and slammed my door shut.
“Here.” I shoved the bag at him.
Morgan’s mouth quirked up, and his eyes brightened. “A present?”
“Just open it.” Because it really wasn’t. I hadn’t wrapped it or anything. That was the bag the cashier handed me. He did, pulling out the black, form fitting gloves. Before he could say anything, I pointed to the pointer finger. “It’s got this thread that that makes it so you can operate a touchscreen. Now you have no excuse not to wear gloves, because you can still answer your four million phone calls.”
Why were his eyes wet? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it made the blue sparkle, but I didn’t want to make him cry. I didn’t think I’d be overstepping, getting him these. But maybe I had. I opened my mouth to apologize. I didn’t get the chance. Morgan ripped off the tag and slid them on.
“This is really thoughtful, Barrett. Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome. I expect to see you wearing them, understand?” I pointed at him, mock-stern glare on my face. He nodded quickly, his eyes brimming with mirth. And still a few unshed tears. Christ, he needed more good deeds done for him if a pair of twenty-dollar Carhartt gloves made him weepy.
“I promise. I will wear them. Oh!” His phone rang just then and he pulled it out of his jacket pocket. “Excuse me a moment. I need to get this. Look! The gloves work. Hey Harris, what’s…oh no! Oh my god! Is everyone and everything okay?” He blew out a breath and pressed a hand to his chest. He looked up at me, big blue eyes wide with worry. “I’m so glad to hear that. What can I…Oh goodness. Okay. Um…. Hold on a sec?”
He pressed the phone against his chest, and I took a step closer, not liking the worry on his face. “What is it?”
“There was a partial roof collapse at the Wayfair. But everyone’s okay. No people or animals hurt. I need to figure some things out with Harris. Can you handle the rental company?”
“Sure. Yeah, of course.” Anything to help him and ease his concern.
“Thank you. Here’s the map. Just have them set up like it says, okay?” He handed me a slightly crumpled and folded piece of paper he pulled out of his other pocket, and then when I took it, he got back in his car and shut the door. I stared at him for a long second, then moved away. Clearly, he wanted privacy.
It was easy enough to read the map, but as soon as I looked at it, and then the field, I realized it didn’t make sense. Logistically, the set up was inconvenient. Morgan had four tents lined up in a row, moving down the field. But that meant that patrons would enter the first tent, walk through the rest, and then either have to walk down the side of the tents, or back through them, in order to get back to the parking lot. It would work much better if the tents were placed in a U shape.
Making an executive decision, I rummaged in my console until I found a pen and scribbled a new set up on the blank back of the paper. There, that was better. The power could still be daisy chained between the tents, just like Morgan already had it, but the flow of traffic would be much smoother.
Morgan was still talking, rather animatedly, a few minutes later when a thirty-foot box truck pulled into the lot. Two guys hopped out, and the driver, a man with a large gut and a larger smile, ambled over.
“John Trager.” He held out a hand and I shook it. “You Morgan’s assistant?”
I’d been called worse things, and he clearly knew Morgan. “Yep. Barrett McKinnon. He’s dealing with a mild emergency. Can you guys get started without him signing anything?”
“Sure, sure,” he said jovially, spotting Morgan in his car, and gave a little wave. Morgan waved back without pausing his rapid talking. “No problem. Same set up as usual?”
I shook my head and showed him my crude but accurate drawing. John studied it for a minute before nodding. Then called out, “Let’s go, Pete.”
The other man opened the back of the truck to reveal the contents. Morgan had called them tents, and I could clearly see the canvas roof. But the sides were hard panels, eight feet tall, and painted green. I approved because that was a hell of a lot sturdier and more secure than just canvas walls.
I pulled my watch cap down further over my ears—the wind was biting today—and watched as John and Pete got to work. The panels snapped together easily enough and the men were clearly practiced at it. It took them less than a half an hour to get the first one together, and they were securing the thick canvas roof when Morgan finally emerged from his car.
He jogged over to me. “What are they doing? Why are they putting it there? And at an angle? They know how it should—eep!”
I grabbed his waist as he started to walk toward them, pulling him back to me. He went still, but didn’t try to fight my hold. I realized I was being inappropriate, and quickly dropped my arm.
“No, here. Look.” I showed him my new and improved map, explaining about the flow of traffic, how the cords between each temporary building would be shorter, and how it was more efficient this way. He simply stared. “And this way, you have this central spot for additional decoration. But if you want them to do it the original way, I’ll help them move it. Tell me now before they secure it down.”
“No.” Morgan was shaking his head. He stepped in close, sharing my personal space. “This makes so much sense. This is better. How did you think of it?”
I shrugged. “I was operations chief. Logistics is what I do.”
“Well, it’s awesome and I’m very thankful.” He pointed to the half circle spot that would soon be surrounded by temporary buildings. I couldn’t call them tents. They were so much more. “This will be the perfect spot for…oh crap.”
“What’s wrong?”
Morgan sighed. “Harris had a roof cave in, like I said? The damage to the structure isn’t that big of a deal, he said. He and his guys can have the portion rebuilt and reroofed in a couple of days. And thank goodness no one was hurt. But it was in the part of the party barn they use as storage. And the sleigh got damaged. Like, it’ll take more than a couple of days to restore.”
“That sucks,” I commiserated.
“It does. It’s an antique. And Harris loans it to the Winter Market every year because that’s where we collect the toys for Toys for Tots. It’s so much nicer than a bin or something. Now I have to find a replacement receptacle. I have to start making calls and see if anyone has something appropriate. And the market starts in two days.”
My heart squeezed. Not just at Morgan’s despair, because I was sure he’d be able to source something, but at the cause itself. Toys for Tots was near and dear to my heart, and not just because it was a Marine Corps initiative.
“You want a sleigh?” I asked, brain working.
“It doesn’t have to be. But I’d like something festive. Though if I have to wrap a giant box, then I will. It’s just…we’ve always had a sleigh.”
“Come here.” I clicked my fob to unlock my SUV and ushered him into the passenger side. Then I jogged around the rear and climbed into the driver’s seat. I started the car because there was no reason we couldn’t warm up.
“Barrett, we can’t leave until John and Pete are finished,” he said patiently.
I shook my head. “We’re not going anywhere.”
I pulled out my phone, which automatically connected to Bluetooth, and found the number I was looking for. Three rings later, Sergeant Tyler Galloway picked up, his voice coming through the speakers in the car.
“Hey Gunny! How’s it going?”
“Good, Galloway. How you doing?”
“I’m hanging in. What can I do for you, sir?”
“I need a favor. Didn’t you tell me your old man had an antique sleigh?”
Galloway laughed. “You remember the weirdest shit. Yeah, it was his pop’s. Looks like Christmas and everything. He used to take us for rides when we were kids. Why?”
“He still got it?”
“Last I knew. Gunny, what’s going on?”
I glanced over at Morgan and the hope on his face lit a fire under me. I would do whatever it took to fulfill that hope. “Think he’d let me borrow it?”
There were several beats of silence. Then Galloway said, “Hang on. Let me bring him in.”
The line went silent for a couple of minutes. Morgan put a hand on my arm. “What’s going on?”
“You want a sleigh, I’m getting you a sleigh.”
Morgan squeezed my arm, a frown creasing his brow, “Yeah but—”
“Gunny? Dad’s on the line.”
“Mr. Galloway, how are you, sir?” I moved my arm so Morgan had to let go and then, without much though, gripped his gloved fingers in my own. He threaded our fingers together and held on.
“I’m doing well, thanks for asking. Ty says you need our sleigh?”
“Yes, sir. If it’s not too much trouble. If I recall correctly, you live in Connecticut, yes? I’m currently in northern New York and I was hoping, if I arranged for transport, and you weren’t using it at the moment, you’d allow me to borrow it.”
“Of course, Barrett. Anything you need.” Ezra Galloway blew out a breath. I’d long ago given him leave to use my first name, and though he’d done the same for me, I’d never used it. It didn’t show him the respect he deserved. “In fact, I’ll load it up and bring it to you myself.”
My eyebrows shot to my hair line. “That’s not necessary, sir. I can hire a moving truck.”
“I insist,” Mr. Galloway said, and his voice brooked no disagreement. “You saved my son’s life. Allow me this.”
What could I say to that? I looked at Morgan, whose wide eyes met mine. I held his gaze as I said, “We’d appreciate it. Thank you.”
“When do you need it?”
“Ideally, as soon as possible. By Sunday. But we’ll take it whenever you can get here.”
“Where are you?” he asked and I told him. There was a clacking of the keyboard for several seconds and then a laugh. “Shoot, that’s less than five hours away. I’ll get it cleaned up, polished all nice, and I’ll be on the road in the morning.”
“That’s outstanding, sir. We’ll arrange for overnight accommodations for you and your wife.”
Morgan took the hint and immediately pulled out his phone. He had to let go of my hand in order to scroll through his contacts, but a second later, he was hoping out of the car to speak to whomever he called.
“That’ll be nice. Thanks. Well, I better get to work. See you tomorrow. Ty, stay safe out there. I love you.”
“Love you too, Dad,” Galloway answered, and then after the click signaling that his father disconnected, Galloway let out a whistle. “I think my dad likes you more than me.”
I chuckled. “Clearly that’s not true. Thanks for connecting us with your dad, Galloway. It saved the day.”
“I’m a hero like that,” he said, his voice full of humor. “Listen, Gunny, I gotta go. But I want pics and a whole explanation tomorrow, please.”
“You got it. Stay safe.”
“Ooh rah.”
He hung up and I turned off the car. Crisis averted and Morgan’s problem fixed. That was what I did. I fixed problems. And it felt good to accomplish something like this for Morgan. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, realized Morgan had walked around to my window, and I popped open the door. He didn’t move back so I had to squeeze out, and then he stood right there, in my space. Practically breathing my air.
“Sophie is going to bump one of her guests for the Galloways. She’s getting them a room at the Holiday Inn in Purchase instead,” he said, mentioning the next town about thirty miles down Route 37. It was at least three times the size of Hickory Hollow. “I’m eating the cost of the room difference, though the guests will think it’s Sophie. The Galloways will be treated to Lowry’s B and B VIP service.”
I squinted. “I’ll pay the difference.”
“No. It’s covered.” He pushed in closer, so we were a hairsbreadth from touching. “Did you really save his son’s life?”
Kind of. I sucked in a breath, and with it came the scent of Morgan, citrus and spice. I’d never thought those scents were particularly enticing, but in that moment, they were.
Realizing he was waiting for an answer, I gave him what truth I could. “It wasn’t just me. And it wasn’t just Galloway. But there was an incident in which lives would have been lost if not for my actions and leadership.”
“My hero,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to my lips. I was struck by the urge to haul him in and hold him tightly. But it disappeared in a flash when John called Morgan’s name. Morgan took a deliberate step back and glanced John’s way, lifting a hand to acknowledge that he’d heard. “Let’s get to work, Marine.”
Morgan walked away and I watched him go. The more time I spent with him, the more tempted I was. But he deserved more than a Christmas fling and I wasn’t staying. I needed to curb that impulse and fast. Because it wouldn’t be good for either of us.