34
H alf past eleven, Dillon had been hard at it for almost six hours. He was tired, sweaty, and as happy as he’d been in a very long while. Elena had arrived two hours earlier and fit herself into Dillon’s work like she’d been doing so all her life. His plan was simple enough, but the intricacies were daunting and they had very little time.
Bailey arrived soon after. She stood in the paved forecourt, sourly eyeing a massive pile of ornaments. The fire team and a horde of volunteers scurried around her, shouting and rushing. She entered the chief’s office and declared, “We’ll never be ready on time!”
“Charlie says they will,” Dillon replied.
“One of the generators refused to start,” Elena said. “They’ve brought in another.”
“They couldn’t position the lawn ornaments until the forklifts were gone,” Dillon added. “Charlie thinks the pause might actually have helped. They had enough time to decide where everything’s supposed to go.”
“Remind me,” Bailey demanded. “What are you two working on?”
Dilly replied, “We’re almost done with the FEMA documents. We’re doing a pictorial display of the major requests, thanks to Olivia. Gleason’s going to bind it into booklets with photos to match. Give them something they can study on the way home.” To Elena, “Where is Appendix One?”
“I have it.”
“And the photos?”
Elena waved a sheaf over her head. “Chill, okay?” Bailey asked, “Appendix One?”
Dillon replied, “Don’t ask.” To Elena, “Everything is in order?”
“Yes, yes, yes.”
“Maybe I should check it one more time.”
“No, no, no.” She wiggled fingers in his direction. “Last folder. Gimmee.”
“Please,” her mother added.
“We left please about fifty miles back.” Elena plucked the folder from Dillon’s grasp, slipped in her pages, uncapped the felt-tip pen, and scribbled.
“That’s folder seven,” Dillon said.
“Yes, Dillon, I can still count. And yes, they are all numbered. And finally, yes, I have them in order.”
Bailey asked, “Have you two eaten something?”
Elena said, “Claire stopped by with rodent stew.”
“Breakfast burritos,” Dillon corrected.
“Whatever.” Elena hefted the stack of folders and ran for the door. “You children play nice.”
Bailey watched her daughter scurry around workers sorting through the unkempt pile of ornaments, laugh at something Charlie shouted in her direction, and race down the street. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen her so happy.”
Dillon stared at the empty space where Elena had been working. “I’ve spent years thinking I was content to go it alone. I pretty much assumed any real need for a family had been cauterized by my childhood. You and Elena have sure proved me wrong.”
“I’m sure someone has said something that nice to me before. Just now, though, I can’t recall when it was.” But her expression did not match her words. “Dillon . . .”
“What?”
“Nothing. It can wait.”
“Tell me.” He swept an arm around the empty office. “It’s just us adults here.”
She hesitated a moment longer, then pulled over a chair and seated herself just out of reach. Dillon started to inch closer, but something in her manner told him the move would not be welcome.
“Olivia was right. You’re forcing me to rewrite my rule book,” Bailey said. “I’m not sure I like that.”
Dillon sorted through several responses, the process accelerated by how his heart rate had suddenly approached redline.
The first was, You’ve discussed us and our relationship with the former love of my life?
Next came, There’s a rule book?
Finally, Are you certain today of all days is when we need to be talking this through?
For once in his rocky career as a guy ladies left behind, Dillon did the right thing and remained mute.
Bailey said, “The problem is, I can’t tell whether I’m not liking your taking center stage, or that you’re making me accept how so much of what’s behind me is my fault.”
Dillon decided his only course of action was to not blink, much less breathe.
“I watched you lay out a terrific idea to the team. My team . And they loved it. Which they should. Your plan could genuinely help my town heal.” Bailey caught herself. “See, that’s how hard you’re making it for me. Our town.”
Dillon remained silent. Frozen in place.
“But what I caught sight of just then, for one split second, was why I chose Griff. Why I made that relationship work despite the whole world telling me it was wrong from the start. The simple reason was, Griff was happy with me taking the spotlight. I led, Griff wandered. He never followed. He didn’t care enough to be supportive. He just did what Griff always did. He went looking for the next . . .”
Bailey stopped and did a full-body clench. Fists to hairline. Everything went intensely tight. And in the process, the old pain aged her ten years.
She took a very hard breath, and willed herself to release. A smidgen. Not much. Enough to go on. “I have no idea how to be in a relationship with a man who is a genuine partner. I don’t even know what those words mean. All I know is, I’m coming to love you. And I can’t let my fears or my past or my natural desire to lead get in the way—”
She was silenced by a knock on the door. Porter opened and said, “Sorry to interrupt whatever this is. But we need to discuss—”
“Coming.” Bailey started to follow the chief from the office, then turned back long enough to say, “I’m glad we had this talk.”
Once the door closed, Dillon allowed himself to breathe.