Always the Hero Read online

  “I can put together a selection for you, certainly. Lovely idea. You see? I told you you were the right person for this job.” She inclined her head. “I’m afraid I have some early arrivals this morning, so if you’ll excuse me. I’ll leave you to this.”

  Lori only nodded, happy to lose herself once again in the flora around her. Plants, flowers, soil, water—they didn’t judge. They didn’t lie. They didn’t do anything but give beauty to the world, even when they needed a little coaxing and care.

  Regret bloomed inside of her. Regret that today, had a face; the rugged, handsome face of a man with a slight limp, weary deep brown eyes and a smile that, for a few weeks, made her forget just how lonely she’d been.

  CHAPTER SIX

  MATT PULLED HIS truck into one of the empty spaces of the Duskywing Farm parking lot and turned to his canine companion.

  Big, black eyes blinked lazily into the morning sun as his golden coat glistened and shined. “You and Ophelia going to get along today, fuzz face?”

  “Woof.” The response was muted, almost as if the retriever resented being asked. Normally Luke’s shadow was well behaved, but put him in the vicinity of Calliope’s feline friend and, well...

  Matt clicked open the latch on the leash and locked it onto Cash’s collar. “Sorry, bud. Holly made me promise.”

  Cash inclined his head and sighed.

  “It was either this or you hang out alone at the sheriff’s station.” Matt slid a finger under his own collar and tugged. “And we both know what happens when you’re left alone.”

  Okay, so leaving a leftover box of doughnuts on the coffee counter probably hadn’t been the smartest of moves, but Matt had definitely earned a best friend for life. When Cash wasn’t tied to Luke’s hip. He liked the pooch and he appreciated that Holly and Luke thought enough of him to call on him for dog-sitting duties even at the last minute. It had seemed a bit strange this morning, however, when Holly had dropped him off. She’d had an odd, dazed expression on her face and a secretive grin he couldn’t quite decipher. That she’d bustled out before Matt could ask any questions had him wondering what might be going on at the diner or with the Saxon family.

  Fletch had just headed out on patrol while Matt and Ozzy were splitting on-call duty, so it seemed fitting to spend some time outdoors. It made sense. Rumbling around in his large empty house, having little to think about other than the devastated expression on Lori’s face when he’d finally told her the truth didn’t go very far in keeping Matt’s sanity in place.

  He knew he’d have to start over with her, but he hadn’t thought the admission would destroy all the trust they’d built up. Maybe he should have. Maybe he was just too worried about what would happen if he didn’t convince Lori he was worth taking another chance on. He needed her on his side, in his life; Kyle’s future depended on it. Matt’s future did. He’d already carved out a part of himself to include this boy in his life. Now, somehow, he had to convince Lori to do the same for him.

  On the bright side, he didn’t have anywhere else to go but up.

  He wrapped Cash’s leash around his hand and pushed open the door, cringing at the aged creak as the dog jumped to the ground beside him. Last night for the first time in over a year, he’d found himself slipping into the darkness that had the power to consume him. Call it genetics, call it learned behavior, there were times the pull of a bottle promised to ease his mind even as it clouded it.

  Most times, one beer was plenty. He could have a celebratory drink, toast with friends, relax after a day at work. But then there were the days when all he could think about was escaping.

  Which was why, first thing this morning, he found himself standing over the sink emptying beer bottle after beer bottle down its porcelain throat. He might be many things, but Matt had vowed years before that he would never, ever, turn into his lying, violent, manipulative father.

  “Morning, Deputy.” Kate Willingham, one of the city’s accountants, along with her firefighter husband and three look-alike daughters waved to him as they crested the hill. “Jeff and I were just talking about the beautification project you and Lori are heading up. We’ve been wanting to get involved with the festival. We’d all like to sign up for what you’ve got in mind. If you’re still looking for volunteers.”

  “We are always looking for volunteers,” Matt said. “We’re hoping to get our first full day’s work next Saturday. Does that work for you all?”

  “Mo-oooom!” The oldest Willingham girl, who was nearing sixteen, crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. “I thought we were going to San Francisco. They’re opening that new outlet store.”

  “We can go to the city anytime, Katie.” Jeff Willingham settled his hands on his other girls’ shoulders. “And one designer purse for anyone your age is plenty. Matt, feel free to leave flyers or sign-up sheets at the firehouse anytime you want. There’s a bunch of us wanting to get this done.”

  “You got it.” The more people they got on board the faster the work would go. Now all he had to do was call a truce with Lori and figure out a plan of action.

  Katie’s grumbling echoed in Matt’s ears as they all headed through the gates. The Willingham girls darted off, heading directly for the lemonade stand. Cash’s growl was low and almost imperceptive, but the way the dog strained against his leash had Matt searching for a furry gray feline.

  “Ah, there you are, Ophelia.” Matt wound his hand around the leash, shortening it to an arm’s length as he stayed a few feet away from the cat’s chosen perch on the fence. Looking as royal as an Egyptian goddess, Ophelia tipped her chin and pinned unnerving blue eyes on Cash, who, after a moment of staring blinked and dropped his butt on the ground. “Peace in the kingdom after all then?” Matt bent down and ruffled Cash’s fur. “I knew you were all bluster.”

  “Woof.”

  Whatever response Matt might have had disappeared from his head as he was swallowed up into the activity that was a Saturday morning at Duskywing Farm. It had, in the last year, become a gathering place, one the residents and visitors equally enjoyed. The promise of fresh, organic products along with quirky artistic offerings, it was part farmers’ market part craft fair. Laughter and conversation filled the air; the squeals of children and excited cries coming from the depths of Calliope’s vegetable patch. He spotted Jasper O’Neill hobbling on his crutches among the rows of kale, lettuce and whatever other greens Calliope had thought to plant. Matt could hear him giving instructions on how to cut certain bundles free, answering questions from inexperienced, amateur farmers.

  “Coffee, Matt?” Matt turned and found Calliope Jones standing behind him, a slightly crooked brown porcelain mug in her hands. Steam swirled up and over the uneven lip and he caught the hint of hickory—and cinnamon?

  “I thought Saturday morning was lemonade time?” His stomach rumbled at the distant sight of fresh-baked muffins topped with farm-fresh honey. “Since when do you serve coffee?”

  “Since certain customers seem to need it. You look a bit peaked.” She held out the mug and, even before he accepted, she took Cash’s leash from him. “Here on business or just for pleasure?”

  “Oh. A little of both. Paige and Fletcher have that big housewarming BBQ next Sunday. I thought I should bring something.” He looked at the various tents and market stalls that had been erected, his head spinning. He glanced over to the booth selling homemade pies and pastries but he’d bet Holly had that part covered. “Any suggestions?”

  “Always.”

  “Keeping in mind my talents do not lie in the kitchen.”

  Calliope dropped to wrap an arm around Cash and buried her hands in his thick fur. “I think you underestimate yourself in many areas, Matt. Even you should be able to put a salad together.”

  “Yeah, I’m not a big salad kind of guy.” He indicated his torso.

  She chuckled. “How about you let me worry about
what to put in it and you can pick it up next weekend? And in the meantime, take a little time to enjoy your coffee. Relax. There’s a nice quiet spot around the back of the house. Near the cuttings shed.”

  “Um, yeah, sure.”

  “Wonderful. Ophelia and I will keep an eye on Cash for you. Go on.”

  Cash seemed to frown when he looked up at her.

  “Okay.” He did as he was instructed, mainly because he didn’t want to see what happened if he got on the wrong side of Calliope Jones. Given that she was currently leading Cash over to Ophelia, he’d bet both cat and dog were about to be lectured on the importance of interspecies truces.

  Saturday mornings at the farm were becoming a Butterfly Harbor habit. Every week there seemed to be more tents filled with locals selling home-baked goods and handmade items. Crafters flocked to the weekly events, from Judy Ashley and her handmade purses to Athena Halloway, town crafter extraordinaire, who offered hand-dyed wool yarn and knitting supplies. He could only imagine the crowds come festival time and, for an instant, wondered if perhaps BethAnn had been onto something last night when she’d mentioned the sheriff’s department being stretched too thin.

  He’d definitely have to talk to Luke about plans to shift schedules and routines in the near future.

  The din of the marketgoers faded as he wandered around the side of the house, enjoying the peace and quiet. When he spotted the wood-and-glass building at the back of the property, curiosity got the better of him. Sipping whatever elixir Calliope had fixed him, he approached the wagon parked near the narrow door. Worn wooden crates had been filled with dozens of tiny poinsettia plants, mostly red, some white. A traditional selection, to be sure. He didn’t understand the trend of weirdly colored poinsettias.

  He bent over, drew a finger over one of the petals.

  The door opened.

  “Matt!” Lori stood on the other side, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. That mahogany-streaked hair of hers shone against the fluorescent light of the indoor lamps. Her shoulders stiffened, her mouth went tight, as if she’d been suddenly cursed by the tension fairy. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was just wandering. Killing time. You know, before I head over to the station.”

  “So you’re working.”

  Did she have to sound so relieved?

  “I will be.” He shrugged. “Since I ran into you—” He cleared his throat and wondered when his body had been inhabited by an insecure teenager. What was he so nervous about? He’d already blown it with her, she’d made that perfectly clear last night. Given the guarded expression on her face he was betting his chances at getting her to forgive him were about as good as Cash and Ophelia walking paw in paw through the garden gate. “About the project.”

  “Yes?” She stepped outside and set the poinsettia plants in the last empty spaces in her crates.

  “I’m thinking we should make plans. You know, go through the list of addresses, check out the houses—”

  “The watering systems? Yes, I was thinking the same thing.”

  She stood up so quickly he had to take a step back to avoid getting knocked on the chin. Not many women rivaled him in height. That he’d always been able to look Lori in the eye had been one of the things he’d liked about her. Equal footing. From day one.

  “I was looking through Calliope’s flowers. Do you, um...” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and flinched ever so slightly. “Do you want to hear some of my ideas?”

  Yes! He wanted to shout, do a completely unmanly fist bump. She wasn’t scrambling to get away from him, wasn’t pushing him aside or glaring at him. All of which on some level he’d expected. He knew how to deal with hostility. What he wasn’t so great with was this odd distance between them now. He remained calm, nodded and smiled. “Sure. I’d like that.”

  “Come on in.” She waved him inside. The second the door closed it was like an oxygen mask had been slipped over his face. The air was so clean, so cool and crisp. An oasis. Back when he was serving in the Middle East, he used to dream of cool breezes and misting sprays even as he surrendered to the reality he might never experience those sensations again. One of the reasons he’d moved so close to the ocean. He appreciated every single day. A touch of humidity kissed the air inside the small building, as if the atmosphere had a mind of its own and was focused on giving the extensive array of plants and flowers exactly what they needed.

  Lori cleared her throat. “I was telling Calliope I think we should focus on the butterfly aspect, do what we can to attract even more to the area.”

  “Okay.” What Matt knew about butterflies would fit on the edge of a monarch’s wings, but he could fake it.

  “I’ve made a list of flowers and plants that I think would thrive, at least for the short term between now and the end of the festival. I’d also like to see us use as many drought-resistant plants as possible to limit water consumption. We could do those on the lower-lying properties so they can catch runoff. For the higher areas, I’d like to install a drip system.”

  And stave off any complaints from the mayor. “Considering the watering is going to be done on the city’s dime for the foreseeable future, I agree.” It was a point of contention Gil and Luke had already run into. “Gil and BethAnn won’t be able to argue with anything that saves money. I’d like to consider alternate ground cover, too. Not just grasses and clovers.”

  She nodded, biting on her thumbnail as she looked down at an array of flowering herbs and thistles. “We might also consider focusing in on some that attract hummingbirds and bees. I’m trying to imagine someone driving down Monarch Lane for the first time, seeing all these winged creatures flitting about the homes. Especially those three cul-de-sacs I’m assuming you’re mainly paying attention to at the front end of town.”

  He appreciated how he didn’t have to explain their plan of action. “The entire section is an eyesore and was actually what got this idea off the ground. I don’t know that we can do much until we get the facades of the homes taken care of first, though.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “We really need to start making a schedule of what needs to be done when. And by whom.”

  “Okay. Have you had breakfast?”

  “Have I—what? No.” She shook her head, irritation flashing in her eyes. “Why?”

  “I just thought we could head over to the diner, get things underway. We’re both going to be busy with work on top of this, so it makes sense to use the time we have. Unless you have plans.”

  “I don’t have plans.” But she didn’t look thrilled at the prospect. “I have these plants I have to get home and under protection. And eating at the diner—”

  “I thought you liked Ursula’s cooking?”

  “Of course I do. I just don’t like eating—” She smoothed her hands down the front of her sunny yellow dress and didn’t finish the thought as she glanced away. “Never mind.”

  Matt frowned. Obviously they were still in the redefining aspect of their relationship. “I can drive you home to take the plants since you don’t have a car,” Matt offered, barging through the verbal opening she’d left for him. “I have to take Cash back to the diner anyway. At least I think I’m supposed to. Holly wasn’t very forthcoming with the details when she dropped him off.”

  “Luke’s due back. Simon, too. She’s probably just distracted.”

  Distracted. Yeah, Holly had seemed distracted all right. Which was what was so strange. Holly Saxon was one of the most levelheaded, controlled people he knew. Granted he hadn’t known her all that long, but seeing her, well, flummoxed, set all kinds of bells blaring in the back of his head.

  “So what do you say? Breakfast? On me of course. And after we can swing by and take some pictures of the houses.”

  “You have time to do all that?” She turned skeptical eyes on him. “I thought you were on call today?”

  “I am, b
ut I can make a phone call.” And offer something of a bribe to Ozzy to cover for him for a few extra hours. “What do you say?”

  She pinched her lips together, drew trembling fingers across the miniature daisy peeking out from its surrounding leaves. “I don’t know, Matt.”

  Afraid he might have pushed too hard too fast, he scrambled to salvage the morning. “It’s work that has to be done. I understand this is hard for you, Lori. And I’m sorry for it. But you’re the one who said we’re still friends.”

  “I said that before I knew you’d lied to me.”

  He could see her accusation surprised even herself and while he wanted to argue with her, there wasn’t an argument to be made. She was right. He had lied to her. And now he was paying the price.

  “So we’re not friends?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “So we are.”

  She looked frustrated with herself, as if she couldn’t believe she couldn’t make sense of the situation. Nice to know he wasn’t the only one. Trust was a fragile thing. He knew this better than most people, which was why he had to give her some space. If only he had the time to do so.

  “It doesn’t make sense for each of us to do the work and then have to do it over together. Let’s see how this morning goes and we can take it from there.” Anxious, nervous and more than a little encouraged, Matt pressed a little bit more. “We can make this work, Lori. I promise.”

  She looked at him, the question evident in her eyes. Was he talking about the project or was he talking about them?