Love Inspired January 2016, Box Set 1 of 2 (23 page)

Drew shook his head. “He's stating an opinion, Corinne. One that's been fostered by ten years of being ignored by his godfather and not having a father around. I screwed up, big-time, but now that I'm here for a while, maybe I can make some of it up to him. I'd like a chance to try.”

“You don't mind?” Corinne waved a hand toward the parked car. “Because I think it would be good for him to get to know you, too.”

“Once he moves beyond the death-ray, kill-you-with-his-eyes stage,” Kimberly added. “From the look of things, that might take a while.”

“You're not helping,” Corinne scolded, but Kimberly saw Drew's gaze lighten slightly, and knew he understood.

“Drew and Dave were intense, just like Callan,” she noted as they walked toward the parking lot. “And boneheaded, to boot. They've got a lot in common, so my vote is yes. Drew should see if he can mend some old fences while he's here.”

“Kimberly Gallagher, grief counselor?” Drew raised a brow her way as she moved toward her car.

She shook her head. “Nah, just Kimberly who's made the same mistakes you have. And figures there's no time like the present to see if we can smooth things over. So while you're trying to make amends with my grumpy nephew, I'm going to see if I can smooth the ruffled feathers of my two sisters because the last thing either of them wanted was to have me bust in here and take over. In some ways it needed to happen. But that doesn't make it a comfortable situation.”

“We can compare notes on a nightly basis,” Drew told her as he opened the back door of the SUV for Rocky. “Because I'm not opposed to taking advice.”

“Does that mean you're going to advise me on how to handle Emily and Rory?”

He cringed. “Maybe.”

The fear on his face suggested he understood what she didn't dare say. The three sisters loved each other in absentia, but thrown together they made a volatile mix, like a high school chemistry session gone amok. And Kimberly's mother had started adding to the tension by confiding in Kimberly on the side. That made the evolving sister relationship trickier.

He turned back her way before he got into his car. “I might not be a lot of help, Kimber. But I'll do my best.”

She couldn't ask for more than that. “Me, too. Come by in the morning, and we'll get you guys settled into that apartment, okay?”

“We'll be there first thing. Then I'll buy you breakfast. Or lunch if you're not a breakfast eater. And we can set up a staging area for the wedding consultations.”

“Agreed.” She climbed into the car and didn't dare try to sort through the mix of emotions. Hers, Drew's, Callan's, Amy's, Corinne's... Only Tee seemed delightfully unaffected by the drama, and that reaction was twofold. First, she hadn't been born when her dad died, so she never had a relationship to lose. And, second, she was her father's daughter, and Dave would be the last person to hold a grudge or carry deadweight.

Dave spoke his mind and moved on, and if she'd just taken a few minutes to talk with him after that final phone call...but she hadn't. She'd acted like a first-class jerk—and then Dave was gone.

Her phone buzzed. She answered as she pulled into the shaded yard of her parents' home. “Hey, Mom. How's everything going?”

“Not as well as I let your sisters believe, I'm afraid.”

That meant her mother had painted things optimistically when she'd called the home phone at eight o'clock. “Mom, we can't shade the truth with them. You've got to be honest.”

“I was, mostly. But Emily's had such a rough year, and Rory takes things so seriously. You're the strong one, Kimber.”

Kimberly appreciated the compliment, but she saw both sides. Her sisters would be justifiably angry to be babied about something this crucial. “Mom, Dad's prognosis isn't the kind of thing you try to pretty up. We all need to go into this with our eyes wide-open. This is important stuff, and everyone realizes that. It's not fair to hide things from them.”

“I'm not hiding anything,” Kate retorted. “I'm taking an optimistic point of view, but I need someone to be honest with. And that's you, kiddo. Like it or not, you're in the driver's seat right now. It's better to ease into all of this, especially with the additional workload my absence has put on everyone. How are the plans for the Vandeveld wedding going? Signed, sealed and delivered?”

Now it was Kimberly who painted a brighter picture. “We've had to make adjustments to fit the new security profile because Shelby's dad is the party candidate, but we got it done and we're filling in the blanks.”

“Such as?”

“Simple things.” Kimberly fudged the answer. If Kate realized they'd changed everything about the wedding at this late date, she'd worry, and she didn't need more worry on her plate. Was she acting just like her mother? Kind of. “We've got it covered.”

“And Drew is there?”

“Yes, much to my surprise. You knew he was heading the security detail and you kept it to yourself.”

“Because I love you both,” her mother acknowledged. “I decided it was time for you to get over blaming him for what happened to your brother. Every cop's family knows that sometimes things happen. We can't live life by what-ifs. It's not healthy.”

“I agree.”

“Really?” Her mother's voice pitched up in approval. “That's good to hear. They've redone all the tests and blood work your dad just endured up there to find out the exact same thing they already knew, and I have to say that's really frustrating him. We'll be in to see the doctor who does the laser ablation soon, and I can't deny I'm scared.”

“You're never afraid of anything, Mom. And you raised us the same way.”

“I've never had to face a condition like this before,” her mother confessed. “I'm putting on a good face for your sisters and the station house, but this treatment is too new for any real prognosis. It's like I'm risking your father's life and I'm not a big risk taker by nature.”

That was true. “But every successful treatment starts somewhere. This time it starts with us.”

“You think so?”

“Why not? I've looked at the online research. These guys have science and technology on their side.”

“Let us then approach God's throne of grace with confidence.” Kate quoted the shortened line from Hebrews softly. “Kimberly, you're absolutely right.”

Kim wasn't sure how she tied in with the biblical passage because she'd been thinking along more pragmatic lines of man fixing man via education, but if quoting scripture helped her mother deal with this crisis, then so be it. “I love being right.”

“Listen, I've got to go, but if you could run interference for me, I'd be grateful.”

“With Em and Rory? Or the acting chief of police? Or the whole town?”

“All of the above, and thank you!”

“Mom, I—”

“They're bringing Dad down the hall, honey. I must run.”

The phone disconnected.

Kimberly climbed out of the car as Mags dashed out the back door, barking, flying across the grass in a series of leaps and bounds, happy to welcome her home.

She scooped up Mags, accepted a few quick dog kisses to her cheek, then pointed to the garage behind them. “Tomorrow, you and I are going to start a new normal. Rocky and Drew are going to be underfoot, and we both need to behave. We have to be accepting. And more open to change. Got it?”

The Yorkie's expression looked doubtful, but when she pressed another quick kiss to Kimberly's cheek, Kim took it as a doggie version of “I'll try.”

And then she hoped she was right.

CHAPTER SIX

“Y
ou told Drew he could use the garage apartment without checking with us?” Emily stared at the coffeemaker for long, slow seconds before facing Kimberly in the morning. “You didn't think that might inconvenience anyone? What if we'd promised it to a college kid? The new semester starts in two weeks.”

“Leave me out of this.” Hands up, Rory took a firm step back. “I think it's a great idea. Drew's kid gets to be in town. She's going to help me out in the mornings, and if she's living in the backyard, I can just grab her and head to work. It works for me.”

“I'm not saying it's a bad idea.” Emily's frown deepened. For a former beauty queen, she really should know better. Maybe Kimberly should buy her some anti-wrinkle cream. Then again, considering the mutinous look on her sister's face right now, maybe not.

“I would have appreciated being consulted. That's all I'm saying.”

Kimberly bit back a large dose of pride and nodded. “You're right, of course. I'm used to making decisions on my own. I should have called and asked last night. Corinne made the suggestion and I jumped on it. I felt bad about sending Drew to the B and B and having them refuse to let Rocky stay. Aside from the surprise factor, do either of you have a problem with it?”

“Not me.” Rory pulled a loaf of fresh bread out of the bread drawer. “Anybody want toast? I've got to fly soon. Tell Amy I'll have her help me tomorrow if she wants to help clean the apartment today.”

“Sure. Em?” Kimberly turned back toward Emily and raised her diplomacy level a notch. “Is it all right with you?”

Emily scowled, then shrugged. “It's too late now, so what's the point of asking?”

True, but... “Because if we need to make different arrangements, we can. I should have asked first. My bad.”

“It's fine, Kimberly. Just—” Emily shrugged one shoulder again, grabbed her coffee and headed out the door. “Do what you want.”

The wooden screen door banged shut.

Kimberly picked up her mug and sank into a chair opposite Rory. “That went well.” She sent the youngest Gallagher a rueful look. “I didn't mean to upset her.”

“You didn't. Life did. The two of you are like high-speed commuter trains coming from opposite directions on a single track. My guess is we're in for multiple mishaps until the pecking order is established.”

“There doesn't have to be a pecking order,” Kimberly argued, “because I'm only here for as long as it takes to help Mom and Dad. Then you can be rid of me again.”

“No one wants to be rid of you, and I'd love to have us all back together,” Rory scolded. “Mom and Dad would love that, too.”

“This coming from the woman who's planning a mission trip next year.”

Rory grinned and shrugged. “That's a temporary move, not a permanent relocation. But you're wrong about the pecking order thing. Mom made it clear that you were the Gallagher in charge when it came to Kate & Company.”

“But it's not like Emily wants the business. Or does she? Is she thinking of staying here and working with Mom?”

Rory buttered her toast and took a bite. “No. Maybe. I don't know. All I know is that the two of you have each had a rough time. Her scoundrel husband dumped her—your fiancé dumped you. Emily's out of a job because she worked for her husband's family business, and you're out of a job because of restructuring. Neither of you did anything wrong, but here you are. One business...three sisters.” She pointed to herself. “One of whom thinks the wedding industry is about the most overrated, pumped-up drain on family finances known to man, so the race is on between you two. I will happily move off to do mission work in emerging nations and watch folks jump the broom. The outlay of money I see go through accounts for these weddings could feed a lot of people around the world.”

“Do you think Mom's right?”

Rory looked puzzled. “About?”

“Life. Love. Circumstance. I was let go on a personal and professional level just in time to come here and help out. Same with Emily. Do you think that's a God thing or just a coincidence?”

Rory answered as she put together a sack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to share with her preschoolers. “It's always a God thing, sis. I've got no doubt of that. And to have both of you back here in time to help save Mom's business at the very time Dad was diagnosed is huge. So my vote goes to God, absolutely. But while He gives us the means to help, He expects us to do the work involved.”

“Which means being more sensitive to Emily's feelings.”

“Yes. And the same for her. You two always butted heads. And you haven't had to live together in a long time.”

“I do get bossy. She probably hates that,” Kimberly admitted.

“Can't blame her there.”

The sound of Drew's voice brought Kimberly's head around. “You're early.”

“Strategic maneuver. That way I get to overhear snippets of what's up and what's going down.” He stepped in, and the minute he did, Mags mad-dashed through the house, warning the world of the intruder in their midst. When she got to Drew she pulled up tight, sat her bottom down and panted up at him, tail wagging against the hardwood floor.

“She likes you?” Kimberly sent the dog a look of wonder. “What's up with that, Mags? Yesterday you were ready to eat him alive—”

One deep, loud
woof
sounded outside.

Mags ignored Drew and leaped for the screen door. It hadn't latched tightly when Drew came in. It gave way just enough for the miniature spitfire to charge through, across the pillared porch and down the steps. Mags's furious barking sounded as if she meant business.

Drew hurried through the door, followed by Kimberly and Rory.

Taut, the two dogs stood, staring, a classic face-off, the barrel-chested shepherd on the right, the silky-haired terrier on the left. Mags began to circle, as if sizing up Rocky's weak spots, except the beautiful big shepherd had no weak spots, and while he stood his ground, his expression said Mags was a nuisance. Nothing more.

And that indifference only seemed to incite the little puffball further.

“Mags! Come here.”

Mags did nothing of the sort.

“Magnolia Blossom Gallagher, get over here.” Rory's use of the dog's full name accomplished little.

Drew knelt down, one hand out, and chirruped to the little dog.

She turned, ears up, saw him at her level and flew across the grass to him. She yapped a little, just enough to explain her concerns about big dogs and territorial rights. Drew nodded as he picked her up, murmuring soft sounds of doggie understanding.

Kimberly's heart went into full crunch mode.

He could have been annoyed that their spoiled purse-dog was pestering a trained K-9 partner. He could have been angry. He could have scolded the little dog for being a pain-in-the-neck ankle biter, but he didn't, and his gentleness worked on the dog...

And on Kimberly.

“Patience.” She reminded herself as she moved closer to Drew's side. “Why do I always forget that part?”

Drew's understanding smile made her feel better. “Getting down to their level can break the standoff.”

“A ploy you might want to use with Emily, Kimber.” Rory grinned and called for Amy. “Kid, are you coming with me or staying here and cleaning?”

Amy had been checking things out around the garage and the sorely neglected gardens. Kate Gallagher would cry to see her gardens in such a state, but none of the girls had found time to dig, weed, spray or transplant. With fall drawing near, the days were growing shorter. She came their way and looked up at Drew. “Do you care if I go help Rory? Or would you rather I stay and help you guys clean?”

Drew consulted Kimberly with a raised brow. “Your call.”

“Go with Rory,” she decided, and she smiled when Rory's face lit up. “Your dad and I can handle this in a couple of hours. And then we'll move right into setting up the planning station for Shelby's wedding, okay?”

“Works for me.” He gave Amy a big hug and a kiss. “Don't make the little kids too crazy, okay? And don't wander away. And follow Rory's directions. And don't be a pain.”

She laughed and hugged him around the waist, clearly happy to be here, with him. “I'm going to be absolutely perfect, Dad. No worries.”

“Ha. Right.” He tweaked her nose and smiled as they walked toward Rory's car. When they had backed out of the driveway, he turned toward Kimberly. “She won't be perfect, which is okay because I like her just the way she is. I passed Emily on her way to the office this morning, and she wasn't looking any too happy. Did you two go at it?”

“We did not ‘go at' anything.” Kimberly went back into the kitchen to gather cleaning supplies, and if she thrust the wash bucket at Drew with a little more force than necessary, it was probably an accident. Or not.

He laughed, but then he sobered. “Your mother told me that Emily's husband walked out on their marriage and left her without a job. Maybe you two could find common ground.”

“Because neither one of us can hold a man's attention or a position. Maybe we can start a support group. Losers-R-Us.”

His frown said she was being absurd, and, since he was right, she sighed and started again. “We should, but it's never been easy between Emily and me. We're the water and oil, the constant clash. Rory's the calm, caring one. The equalizer. Maybe if Emily and I were more alike—”

“More alike would be dangerous to society as we know it.”

“You are beyond mistaken.” She put the key in the apartment door lock, wiggled the handle just so and unlocked the door. “We're nothing alike.”

His silence hinted that she was wrong, but what did he know about it? He was an only child who didn't have to deal with siblings.

Kimberly had held a job at a local store since she was fifteen, and had helped her mother besides. Going to a local college had offered her more time in Kate & Company, so when she graduated with her business and project management degree, stepping into the big world of country music and Nashville complemented her hard work.

Emily had secured a college scholarship through beauty pageant wins. She'd graduated, gone on to become Miss New York, met Christopher Barrister, won his heart and a job in the buying offices of the great Barrister's Department Store chain without doing much more than looking drop-dead gorgeous in a bikini. Until he'd walked out of their marriage last winter, citing the marriage...
and Emily
...as a mistake.

Drew was right; they did have stuff in common. But Kimberly had worked her way up every rung of the ladder.

Emily flashed smiles and looked pretty, which meant they really didn't have much in common after all. And yet...they needed to find common ground, for their parents' sake, especially now.

“I haven't been in this apartment since I was a kid.” Drew's observation made a welcome change of subject. “Dave and I used to pretend we were spies. We'd watch for enemies coming into the harbor.”

“And shoot them with your ray guns?”

He looked appalled. “Light sabers, Kimber. Get with the program.”

“Stalking the evil empire.”

“Now you're talkin'.” He rolled up his sleeves.

And Kimberly put a firm grip on her appreciation.
You will not notice his great arms, and the nice tan he's acquired. Avert your gaze!

“How about if I vacuum first, and then we dust and wash things down?”

“You do your own cleaning?” She took the bottle of spray cleaner and a wet washcloth over to the small bank of kitchen cabinets and pointed behind him to a small closet. “Vacuum's in there. No maid service at your place? I'm kind of surprised.”

“Nah.” He moved to the closet, opened the door and pulled out the small cleaner. “It's just the two of us. I travel light and the kid's unusually neat, which means fewer parent battles and more discretionary funding.”

“Double win.” She pulled a chair over to reach the uppermost shelves and climbed up. “I don't know when this got cleaned last, so if I come across any weird little creatures and scream like a girl, pay me no mind. Unless I keep screaming, in which case it's all right to come running.”

* * *

He would, too. Standing there, watching her climb onto the chair, he visualized running to save her.

He'd haul her down off the chair, set her safely on the old linoleum floor and then...

He wouldn't let himself get to “then,” because there couldn't be a then. There was barely a “now,” and that was only because they'd quietly agreed to work together.

And now you're going to live about sixty feet apart. Might be time to restrategize your plans, because having Kimberly around day and night isn't going to be easy on either of you.

He'd make it easy because the Gallaghers were facing tough times. Maybe God had sent him on this job to bring some sort of reconciliation to a family he'd hurt years ago.

Dave's death wasn't his fault. He understood that.

But it had happened on
his
watch, which meant if he could bring peace and strength to the Gallaghers, he was doing God's work. And that he could handle. He finished vacuuming the two small bedrooms and the braided rug in the living area before Kimberly completed the cabinets. “Slowpoke.”

She made a face and flicked water at him.

“Don't start something you can't finish,” he warned. Eyes down, he pulled out a can of spray polish and a dust cloth.

More water flicked his way.

He turned, picked up the kitchen sink sprayer, turned the cool water on and gave her a quick spray.

She screeched, and he was just about to remind her she'd been forewarned, when she screeched again, pointing.

A half-dollar-size black spider scurried out of the far corner of the cupboard, clearly disoriented by the light, the noise and the activity. Kimberly went to step back, missed the edge of the chair and started to tumble.