Love Inspired January 2016, Box Set 1 of 2 (34 page)

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“You're not overdoing it, are you?” Kimberly scolded as her father settled himself into the passenger seat Tuesday afternoon. “Nothing can possibly be this important.”

“You're wrong—it is. Now drive.” His expression said he didn't appreciate getting bossed around, and Kimberly understood that because she'd inherited the trait. “Corinne and Callan are meeting us at their place.”

“Okay.” She dragged the word out, but did as he requested. “But I still don't know why you guys couldn't have called us, told us you were coming home. We'd have gotten things ready.”

“Last-minute decision and timing was everything.” She pulled into the driveway and was surprised with the ease her father handled getting out of the car.

“Dad, are you really doing as well as you seem to be?”

He flashed her a quick, endearing smile. “Yes. Praise God and the wonders of medical advances. We'll take things as they come, but yes. I'm doing well. And looking forward to retirement if Andrew Slade doesn't muck it up for me.”

“Muck it up?” She frowned as she followed him in. “I don't get it.”

Corinne and Callan were seated on the back porch. When Callan saw his grandfather, he raced toward them. He reached out and hugged Kimberly's father with great care. “Grandpa! You're home!”

Pete smiled and laid an arm around the boy's shoulders. “I am, and I'm feeling better. Much better.”

“Does this mean you're going to be okay?”

“It means I've got a really good shot at being okay,” Pete reassured him as he hugged Corinne. “Now, there's a reason I wanted to meet with you today.” His tone turned serious as he took a seat. Kimberly sat alongside him and Pete motioned for Callan to sit directly opposite him. The boy complied, curious.

“This isn't easy,” Pete began.

Corinne squared her shoulders. “We're tough, Dad. We can handle whatever it is.”

He met her gaze, grimaced, then shifted his attention to Callan. “I'm breaking a promise I gave years ago, and that's not something I do lightly. But this time I have no choice.” He leaned forward with his hands braced on the wooden tabletop between him and his grandson. “Your dad was a great person. A great father, a great son, a great brother and a great cop. But everyone makes mistakes, son, and every now and again, those mistakes are magnified.”

Callan frowned. “I don't understand.”

“Your dad and Drew were friends long before they were cops. They were closer than brothers, because they loved each other when they didn't have to.”

Callan's scowl deepened. “Drew had a funny way of showing it, Grandpa.”

Pete ignored the comment. “The night your dad died, they'd prearranged a meet with some drug-dealing thugs, an undercover cop, Dave and Drew. Dave got there ahead of schedule, and when he thought the kingpin drug dealer was going to leave, he went in early to make the collar himself with the undercover officer.”

“How do you know this?”

He turned toward Kimberly. “Because after your brother died, I read the transcripts of the call he made to Drew. Drew called him off, said he was still two minutes out. And Dave went in anyway.” He turned back toward Callan as Kimberly's head swam around these new truths. “Drew wouldn't allow me to tell anyone. Ever. He took it on the chin when folks made like he let Dave down. He stood tall and strong as he helped carry your dad to the cemetery, knowing what folks thought, knowing your dad didn't follow protocol and got himself killed because of it.”

“No.” Callan stared at him, hard and angry. “My dad's a hero. Everyone says so.”

“And I agree,” Pete told him softly. “He'll always be a hero, son. But even heroes make mistakes.” He stood, rounded the table and hugged his grandson. “Drew Slade is a good man. He's always been a good guy, and he sacrificed so much to ease the pain of losing David. He didn't want the last memory we had of your father to be darkened by a mistake in judgment.

“I love you, kid. You mean the world to us, but I don't want misplaced anger to get in the way of keeping Drew in Grace Haven. He's determined to leave because he thinks you hate him, and he doesn't want to be a burden to you or your mother. And that's what I came home to say.”

He straightened. “There's a meeting tonight about the chief's job. I'd like to see Drew fill it, but if he thinks you blame him for his father's death, he'll likely say no. And I'd hate to see that happen.” He hugged Corinne and moved toward the car. “See you later. I hope.”

Kimberly exchanged looks with Corinne. “Did you have any idea?”

“None. Ever.” Tears brightened Corinne's eyes. “I can see it going down just that way, though. Dave was always so brave and fearless. If he'd just waited two minutes...” Tears streamed down her face, and she sat back down. “If he was here right now, I'd smack him. Then I'd hug him and I'd never stop.”

Drew hadn't been late like they'd been led to believe.

Dave had gone in early and met his fate.

God forgive me for my assumptions all those years. Forgive me for trying to blame anyone. And forgive me for not coming home sooner. Making amends.

“I've got to get Dad home. He's doing well, but I think this hit him kind of square.”

“Go.” Corinne reached over and hugged her son. “Cal and I will be just fine.”

Kimberly didn't ask if she'd see them later. She'd promised her father she'd go to the meeting, and now she understood why. He wanted support for the changing of the guard, and with Brian's campaign for a special election, it wasn't a given. Unless Drew put the past behind him and accepted the position if it was offered.

Which is exactly what he needed to do because she'd made a promise to her parents to stay. She couldn't break her word, but she'd come to the firm conclusion that life without Drew wasn't really living. Not anymore. Which meant he had to stay as well, because being together, forming a new branch of the family, was the right thing to do.

And she had no qualms about telling him just that.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

D
rew's palms went damp as he strode into the town's meeting room Tuesday evening.

He'd keep this simple. They'd open the meeting in the traditional way, he'd stand and request his application to be withdrawn, and what could Alejandro do in front of dozens of witnesses?

Nothing.

And then he'd take a deep breath, pack up his clothes and his beautiful daughter and head back to New Jersey. He'd left Amy at the Gallaghers' on purpose, citing a possible late hour for his return. Rory had been glad to hang with her and Rocky, so his daughter would never know how close she'd come to having her dream come true.

He walked through the double doors promptly at seven o'clock, found a seat in the back of a well-filled room and sat down hard, face forward.

A moment later, someone sank into the seat next to him. He glanced that way, and when Callan Gallagher met his gaze, his heart tightened. And when the boy stared at him, right into his eyes, then reached out and hugged him, his heart not only loosened.

It broke free.

“I'm sorry I was a jerk to you.” Tears wet the boy's cheeks, and Drew wasn't sure his cheeks were any better. “Mom kept telling me it wasn't your fault, but I really just wanted it to be someone's fault that my dad died. You know?”

Drew knew, all right.

He glanced around, pretty sure Callan hadn't driven himself to the town meeting. Lined up in the back, shoulder to shoulder and hand in hand, was the entire Gallagher clan, including the ill patriarch, Pete. And Amy, too.

Pete's eyes met his. He dropped his gaze to the adolescent boy, then brought it back up to Drew, and when he tipped his chief's hat slightly, Drew knew.

Pete had intervened. He'd stepped out, broken his word to Drew and explained the truth behind Dave's death.

He'd hidden that truth a long time ago, determined to preserve Dave's integrity, professionalism and memory, but now he'd witnessed the harm and the good of shading truth. Callan's deep-seated anger showed him that.

“Ladies and gentlemen, shall we bring this meeting to order?”

They stood, recited the Pledge of Allegiance and approved the minutes. Without hesitation, the mayor announced Pete Gallagher's intended retirement. A varied chorus rounded the room, a mix of understanding and regret, but the mayor waved his hands and shushed the crowd. “We've got lots of time to get into the hoopla of the whole deal, the parties and goodbyes, everything well deserved for decades of good, honest service to our community, and we'll pay attention to all that in a few weeks. Pete's just back from some health issues, Kate's got him on a tight rope, and everyone in this room knows you don't argue with Kate Gallagher.”

The crowd laughed and didn't disagree.

“Pete told me we needed to get on with the business of the day, appointing an interim police chief until Pete's elected term is up in two and a half years. And we've done that.”

He looked around, spotted Drew and Callan and lifted a thin manila folder. “On behalf of the town council, the office of the mayor and the police force of Grace Haven, New York, we would like to offer the appointment of interim chief to Andrew Slade, a former city of Rochester police officer and currently the chief of security for V-Trade Incorporated and Senator Rick Vandeveld, who, as you know, is running for president.”

“The senator's paying for our November festival,” called out one old-timer. “That's enough to earn my vote right there.”

The crowd laughed, then turned as the mayor kept his eyes locked on Drew's.

Callan took his hand on one side.

Amy came forward and took it on the other.

Trapped. In the very best possible way.

And when Kimberly moved into the seat behind him and whispered, “You're taking too long, you're out of options and you're surrounded by people who love you, including me. Just say yes, okay?”

“I accept,” he told the mayor and the council. “But if the town would indulge me one more thing...” He turned, took Kimberly's hand and looked deep into her pretty blue eyes as he tried to take a knee.

The folding chair got in his way, but Callan and Amy jumped in to slide chairs left and right.

And then he took a knee properly. “Kimberly Gallagher, it just seems downright silly for both of us to be back in town and unmarried, so I propose a merger.”

Her smile said she liked his unorthodox methods. “What kind of merger?”

“One where you and I get married, have a couple more kids to drive Amy crazy and live happily ever after, no matter what happens. Because I love you, Kimber. And the only way I can do this job properly and live in the same town with you is as your husband. What do you say?”

“I say yes, Drew.” She leaned down and kissed him soundly, then laughed. “I say absolutely, positively yes.”

He stood and turned back toward the front and offered the mayor a quick salute. “Then it's a yes, Mayor. Draw up the paperwork, and I'll be happy to sign on.”

“We're staying?” Sheer delight highlighted Amy's words. “Forever, Dad? You, me and Kimberly? This is our town?” She grabbed him in a hug, and he hugged her back, the other arm embracing his future wife.

“That's exactly what it means, darlin'.” He smiled into Kimberly's eyes as he hugged Amy close, and the promise he saw there—the promise of tomorrow and every day beyond—gave him peace at last. “We've come home.”

EPILOGUE

“A
re you sure you don't mind being hurried with the wedding, Kimber?” Drew gave the posh setting of Kate & Company a quick glance the second week of November. As predicted, Rick had emerged triumphant in the elections, but Drew was now a world away. “This is your specialty. I'd understand if you want to take a little more time to plan things.”

“You trying to back out of the deal, Slade?” She pushed the desk drawer shut, stood and crossed the few feet between them. “Because I have every intention of walking down the aisle of that abbey on Saturday, having Uncle Steve perform a beautiful ceremony and walking out as Mrs. Drew Slade. With a kid and a dog, so if you've got other ideas—”

“Not a one.” He laughed, but he didn't laugh long because he was too busy kissing her. “I love the idea. And the idea of living together in the apartment until we close the deal on our house—”

“And the idea of having someone else help tackle the whys and wherefores of an adolescent girl.”

“I won't deny how much that weighed into the decision,” he joked, and when she smacked his arm, he feigned injury. “Your parents seem happy that we're doing this before they leave on their trip.”

“They do, don't they?” She turned off the upstairs office lights and pulled the door shut as they walked toward the stairs down to the reception area, arm-in-arm. “It's so good to see Dad looking well, amazing, really. And no matter what happens, I'm thrilled that Emily and I can give them this time to just relax and do whatever they might want to do.”

The lower door burst open. Amy and Tee raced through, saw them coming down the steps and came to a quick stop. “It's snowing!” Amy called out, clearly delighted.

“Oh, man.” Drew stared at the obvious snowflakes dusting her head, then raised his gaze outside. “Snow's a fairly common occurrence up here, Amy. It gets old quick.”

“Oh, it won't!” She grabbed his arm when he reached the ground floor and hugged it while she propelled him toward the door. “Look at it, Dad. So pretty, so clean and white! Isn't it beautiful?”

He looked outside.

The town lights twinkled in the freshly falling snow. Tree branches wore their dusting of white, and The Square looked as if it had been painted with the gentlest of pale brushes. “You won't mind shoveling?”

She started to answer, but Kimberly held up a hand. “We have a plowing service, so shoveling is limited to the sidewalks. Policemen and wedding planners must be able to get to work on time.”

“Crucial personnel.” He grinned at her, then swung open the door. A flurry of white flakes danced in the rush of air, swirling around Amy and Tee as they dashed back outside.

“Dad, I'm catching snowflakes! Try this—it's awesome!”

He didn't hesitate a moment, despite his police chief uniform and the doubtful stare Rocky shot his way.

He took his beautiful fiancée by the hand, led her into the softly falling snow and tasted snowflakes with his daughter, like he'd done as a boy more than thirty years before in the same town square.

And as the Center Street churches began their beautiful nightly chime, the blend of notes and music offered a benediction of old and new, yesterday and today, with hope for tomorrow.

And it was good.

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