Love Inspired January 2016, Box Set 1 of 2 (29 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

K
imberly was managing to avoid him despite their working arrangements, and Drew wouldn't have thought that possible.

Wrong.

If he was in the office, she was out of office.

If he was at home, her parking spot next to the family garage stayed empty.

When he and Amy walked the neighborhoods and visited the school, Kimberly was nowhere to be found.

You miss her.

He shrugged that off as ridiculous, but when she texted him a message saying she couldn't go shopping with them on Labor Day, as she'd promised, he went upstairs to have a face-to-face discussion.

“Do you know where she is?” He might have growled the words at Allison, or maybe it just felt as if he was growling.

“Of course. She's planning a holiday wedding at the Evergreen mansion. They're doing a walk-through and tasting.”

“Was this scheduled in advance?”

Allison shook her head. “Just in yesterday. The bride was at a wedding we did at MacCauley's Vineyards and we impressed her, so Kimberly jumped right on it, understandably.”

“Understandably?” He lifted one brow in question.

“We just paid out twenty thousand for Pete's initial treatments.” Allison kept her voice soft. “An average wedding nets about five thousand profit, so if we're going to keep up payroll, utilities and benefits, grabbing work when it's available is huge. And winter is quiet.”

He knew that, and the dollar and cents of Pete's treatment humbled him. He was focused on one wedding. Kimberly was overseeing at least a dozen separate events, knowing each success allowed her father and mother necessary time and medical treatment.

He called Jandro Gonzalez from his cell phone. “Lieutenant, can I meet with you tomorrow to go over some things concerning the Vandeveld wedding?”

“Glad to. Is ten a.m. good for you?”

“Perfect. I'll be there.”

He arrived at the station house the same time Kimberly walked across The Square the next morning, her messenger bag slung across one shoulder. “I'm not late, am I?”

“For?” Drew asked.

“Our meeting with Jandro. He called me to say he was running a few minutes late,” she explained lightly, as if it was all right that he'd left her out of the loop, but her cool-eyed gaze said otherwise. “But here he is now, so we're all set.”

They weren't all set, and she was about to find out he'd made changes without consulting her. They gathered in Jandro's office, with the door closed, and Drew explained the gravity behind the double road closings and keeping Travis's and Shelby's families sheltered in place prior to the wedding.

He finished, and if looks could kill, the expression on Kimberly's face said he was a dead man. “You can't be serious.” She stared him down, glanced at Jandro, then back at Drew. “We'll be hated, and Kate & Company can't afford to be hated. We've got bills to pay, and if people get mad at us for totally disrupting their September business earnings, it's not you or the Vandevelds they'll get even with. It's us, and that's not fair.”

“Can we afford to have the family susceptible?”

“No, of course not, but there's got to be a better way,” Kimberly argued. “What if there's an emergency? How do first responders get through?”

“They'd be allowed through, of course,” Drew replied. “But casual travel would be completely curtailed, including air, land and water.”

“No boaters?”

Jandro's expression said he wasn't all that happy, either. “Do we have any known threats against the senator, the bride, the groom or any of the guests?”

Drew slid a sheet of paper across the table. “These are the current threats involving candidates and their families. As you can see, while most are probably pranks, we have three which are labeled credible.”

“When did the wedding date change?” Jandro asked them. “And why wasn't I consulted? Despite the federal and state involvement, Grace Haven is our town, and our police force knows the nuts and bolts of this area far better than an outsider would.”

Kim spoke up first. “We ran into site and scheduling problems earlier this month,” she told him.

“And once Rick became the official party candidate, Secret Service guidelines took precedence,” Drew added.

“This would have been easier in a closed, single road venue,” the lieutenant said. “With no lake view.”

“Which kind of messes up the whole reason to have a beautiful Finger Lakes wedding, doesn't it?” Kimberly said. “It's a balancing act, for sure.”

Jandro shifted his attention back to Drew. “Rick Vandeveld has friends who spend the summer here. He understands the social climate better than most. What is he prepared to do to offset this disruption in people's daily lives? It seems to me that other major weddings have offered neighbors a token of apology for inconveniencing them.”

“Hosting the November Christkindl and the New Year's Eve fireworks would be a lovely tribute,” Kimberly offered smoothly. “Those two events cost the town nearly thirty thousand in out-of-pocket expenses. To have the senator sponsor them will go a long way as a means of forgiveness. And overtime for the local force, of course.”

“I concur.” Jandro made a note and shifted his attention to Drew. “Can you run that by the senator today? I can quietly schedule overtime to make sure we have a full contingent on hand, but the cost of that needs to be covered by the senator, not the town or the county.”

“I'll talk with him today,” Drew promised. He motioned to the site grid he'd brought in. “Everything else seems fine?”

“Yes. We'll notify the state troopers and the county sheriff, but I'll tell them not to share the actual information until we need to at the last minute.”

“Perfect.” Drew stood. “Lieutenant, I appreciate this.”

The lieutenant frowned. “Well, there'll be backlash, but I think once people realize it's a onetime occurrence, they'll be okay. And then we're going to hope the next big wedding picks another lake to host it.”

“But we don't want to overlook the upside of this wedding and events like this,” Kimberly countered. “This wedding has dropped over one hundred and ten thousand dollars into our economy so far, without the senator's help on those events. And that's not including the guest lodgings at area B and B's, hotels and inns. If we can keep the stress of the road closings minimal, we could actually encourage this kind of event.”

“A valid point,” Jandro conceded. “I'll take care of my end,” he assured them before directing his attention toward Kimberly alone. “If you think of anything Mrs. Gonzalez or I can do to help out, let us know. I know you girls are running yourselves ragged over there...”

“We're fine,” she assured him and gave him a big hug. “But thank you. And I'll keep it in mind. The bride might need to get out from under Drew's control at some point in time or go pre–wedding day ballistic. I might bring her into town to visit you and Dottie. She'd get a kick out of that.”

She ignored Drew's glare as she left the room, and she got halfway across the parking lot before he caught up with her and grabbed her arm. “You're mad because I didn't include you on this meeting.”

“I'm not mad.” She turned and faced him full-on, and if anger had a color, it was there in her big blue eyes. “I'm furious. You made a big show of wanting to be in on everything concerning this wedding. I've tried to play by your rules, but when you leave next month, the rest of us still need to live here. And while one day may not seem like a lot to you guys, a day of no sales during the height of the busy season is a significant loss for people who live paycheck to paycheck.”

She took a short breath and pointed at him, and her look of disappointment cut more than her words. “Before you pull any more side deals, let me remind you that we're supposed to be working together. And that hasn't happened for the last week. And FYI, Kate & Company has two weddings to oversee tomorrow, and then I'm taking the rest of Labor Day weekend off to clean out my mother's neglected gardens. I don't want to talk weddings or security or anything, got it? I'm going to throw on sweats and a T-shirt and get dirty because while the wheelers and dealers of Vandeveld Securities might hire this stuff done, we simple folks do it ourselves. When there's time.”

She pivoted and walked away, shoulders back, head high.

He couldn't go after her. She'd want explanations, and he had none. Mistakes from the past left her brother dead. They weren't his mistakes. He understood that. But David wasn't any less dead because of them.

Drew covered all the bases now, always. Maybe too well, but he was okay with that, except when he saw the sheen of angry tears in her pretty blue eyes.

* * *

The rose garden weeds were the first to succumb.

Kimberly set up her mother's old radio, cranked up a country station and cleaned up those roses in quick order, and because she was already mad at the world, she almost welcomed the occasional prick of a thorn.

She ignored the pretty church bells, waved to a few neighbors who called hello as they walked to church and pretended her lack of attendance wasn't notable.

“Kimberly, do you want me to wait and go to the later service with you?” Rory came out of the kitchen door about the same time the slap of Drew's screen door announced his arrival outside. She ignored him and looked up at her sister.

“No, I'm good. Go on ahead.”

“You're sure? Because I could help you here and then we can go together.”

“Hey, Kimberly!” Amy's cheerful greeting forced her to turn, and when she did, she aimed her gaze at the excited preteen alone.

“Morning, sweet thing. Are you off to church?”

“Yes.” Amy reached out and clasped her father's hand. “Do you want to go with us?”

“I'm praying in the garden today.” She said the words casually, but regret poked her, making her think she
should
pray in the garden. What better place was there? If you believed in that sort of thing, of course.

“I've prayed in a few gardens myself,” Drew admitted behind her.

She refused to look up or acknowledge him, and when Rory fell into step beside them, Kimberly kept her attention firmly on dandelion removal. By the time they returned, laughing and easy, nearly two hours later, she'd weeded the front gardens and started shoveling mulch into the wheelbarrow.

Ten minutes later, two strong arms took the shovel out of her hands. “Hey!” She looked up, puffed a loose lock of sweaty hair out of her eyes and met Drew's gaze.

She didn't want to look into his eyes. She didn't want to be attracted to another man who ran hot and cold on whims. She wanted—

“I'll do this. The kid wants to help you, and there's not enough room for two people to shovel, so if you let her help out back, I'll do the mulching out here. Please.”

Stubborn anger reared up, but she'd be stupid to refuse help, especially when the back gardens were ten times worse than the front. “Okay.”

She handed off the shovel, but when she did, he placed one big, strong, gentle hand over hers. The warmth of his palm softened her angst like a lake breeze on a muggy afternoon.

She longed to move forward but forced herself backward.

She'd had enough of cops and cop types. She'd watched the sacrifices her mother made because of her father's job, she'd said goodbye to her brother far too soon and when she'd given another guy in uniform a chance, he'd dumped her. Steer clear of police was her new mantra, but temptation claimed her every time she came within ten feet of Drew Slade. She'd push that temptation aside, though, because she wanted and deserved honesty. Keeping her out of the loop on Shelby's wedding because he knew she wouldn't approve of certain things was too high-handed for Kimberly's tastes. No matter how good he looked escorting Amy to church, or now, shoveling mulch as if his life depended on it.

She moved toward the backyard. “Amy, come on over here. My mom's got more trowels and gloves in the garden shed.”

“Gloves?” Amy cringed when she looked at the stained, used gloves. “I'll just use my hands, I think.”

Kimberly laughed and shoved the gloves into her hands. “You'll use gloves if you want to help because poison ivy loves to poke through these shade gardens. Keep the gloves on, and don't scratch your face. And if you think you see some, I'll be glad to nip it out. I'm not allergic, but you might be.”

“I am.” Amy frowned at the used gloves but tugged them into place. “I got into some at camp last year. It was awful. Hey, isn't that Tee and her stupid brother?”

“It is.” It was hard to argue the
stupid
adjective when the kid had been acting mean to Amy. “We're grilling hot dogs and hamburgers today. They're coming over to help with the yard work, and then we'll all eat and go swimming later, before the fireworks.”

“Why is he such a jerk?” she asked as Callan stomped up the front sidewalk toward the front door of the house. “Being nice is so much easier.”

It was, but it was a lesson Kimberly had to learn personally, so she cut Callan some slack. “He'll get over it.”

“I hope so.” Amy grabbed a trowel and started working from the back corner, forward, as far as she could get from Callan. Tee dashed out the back door a few minutes later, dressed to work. “Amy, let's work together!”

“Sweet.” Amy grinned her way, and the two girls chattered like magpies as they weeded. Before too long, Kimberly glimpsed Patriot hostas surrounded by the waving fronds of bleeding hearts. By the time they'd had one lemonade break and a quick ham sandwich, half of the sloping, wide backyard was done.

“This is a lot of gardens.”

She'd been ignoring Drew, kind of like Amy was ignoring Callan, but when he came around back and whistled appreciation for their efforts, she swiped her sleeve across her forehead and nodded. “My mother claims this is satisfying labor. Personally, I'm finding nothing therapeutic about it.”