Stronger By Your Side (Great Love Book 2) (6 page)

I sat in my truck, completely in shock at what had just happened. It had been eight years since I last shared a kiss with Megan. Eight years since she had left me alone and heartbroken. She obviously didn’t remember me at first. I knew she would eventually, it would just take her a minute . . . or twenty. Although it stung a little that she didn’t immediately recognize me like I had her, I could understand. Unlike her, I had changed a lot from the boy she knew. She looked a little older, but exactly the same. Not me. I had grown almost three inches, going from tall to super freak. I had turned to exercise for an outlet and concentrated on training for my job, so the rest of my baby weight fell off and my body became hardened.

I hadn’t had the surfer boy, shaggy hair since my 20
th
birthday when I graduated the fire academy. I cut it to stay uniform, but now it felt normal. It felt like a part of me. It made sense that Megan didn’t recognize me right away. I had changed, at least physically. I doubt she would be surprised to find out I was still very much the same in every other way. Megan and I had been best friends since kindergarten and had grown up attached by the hip. She knew everything about me and me, her. She knew that I left a trail of change and receipts all over the house. She knew that I loved to fish but secretly hated baiting my hooks, although I would never say those words out loud. I was capable of being brave in terrifying moments, but freaking worms seemed to be my Achilles’ heel.

Megan was the only person in the world who would ever know that. She also knew that I had an addiction to pizza and that I liked corny 90s movies, my favorite being
Tremors
. She was with me for every important milestone in my adolescence, including when I found out my parents died. Megan had become my rock and made me want to be better, stronger than other men, not only physically but emotionally as well.

After she left me and I couldn’t find her, I decided that I would put all my effort into being that better person. I always admired public servants, and my Uncle was a Fire Chief in California. I began studying Fire Science at a local college. I received my Associates degree and went to the fire academy. After I graduated, I did two years of volunteer fire fighting in Georgia, and then I did a year as a smoke jumper and firefighter in the Tennessee Mountains. Two years ago, my Uncle Tom called me with a job proposition. I was looking for a change of pace and scenery, anything to keep my mind off the fact that I didn’t know where Megan was or if she was okay. Little did I know that I would find her in the place that I came to finally move on from her. Irony didn’t even begin to sum it up.

I shook my head as I thought about it again.
I can’t believe I found her
. I never thought I would. Eight years ago, I never thought we would leave each other’s side; that was, until the night she disappeared on me. I had told her I loved her, we’d shared the best kiss of my life, and she ran. The memory gave me a fresh sting of pain. I winced at the thought of her tear-stricken face as she told me to stay away from her, that she hated me. Even as she was saying the words, I remember thinking her face looked more hurt than mad. I knew her, I knew all her faces.

God knows I didn’t even try to stay away from her. I searched for her for years. Now I had found her and I hadn’t even tried. Right when I decided to give up, when I decided to move on, she came crashing into my world again, literally. When I saw her in the bar, I had to hold back from lifting her into my arms and swinging her around like I always had when we were kids. There was a reason why she left all those years ago, and I still didn’t know what it was. My worry that she was in trouble or in danger was now put to rest, at least until I found out more.

Megan had always been a strong-willed girl, but she was more small and fragile than most would ever know. I didn’t like how rough the man was with her in the bar. No one deserved it, but Megan truly didn’t deserve it. It reminded me all too well of the many nights of finding her in similar situations. I prayed silently that she didn’t find herself in those situations anymore. The pain of not knowing is what hurt the most. I needed to make sure she was okay, I needed her to be okay. I was never able to deny the part of me that longed to protect her. Not even when we were five and I pushed Brad Lowman on the ground for pulling her hair.

Now that I found her, now that I saw her, my need to protect her intensified. I finally had a chance to. I knew that I couldn’t move on, with or without her, until I knew that she was truly okay. I knew I would have to find her somehow. I took a deep breath again, trying to understand this. She was here in California? What was she doing here? Did she live here? Had she been here all along? What was she doing at the bar? Who was that man? The questions stung my brain.

I took my fire department badge out of my pants pocket and placed it in my cup holder. I was wearing my Lincoln Fire Department tee-shirt, dark blue work pants and work boots, but if Megan noticed, she didn’t show it. I hoped she did notice, and that she would come looking for me. That would be much easier than trying to find her, but I would try. I had been at the new bar on a work call. I was checking the fire permits and safety protocols for the new Fireside Bar and Lounge that indeed had a lot of fire in and around it. It would be important that they strictly followed safety protocols to ensure everyone’s safety.

After I had finished up inspecting everything and talking to the owner, I was on my way out the door when I spotted her. At first, I just stared at her thinking that she was like the eight hundred other black-haired girls that I had thought were her over the past eight years. Then when she slightly turned and I caught the flicker of her gray eyes in the firelight, I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was real.

I had no idea how it happened, all I know is that it did. I had finally found her, and when that asshole took her away my heart physically ached with the worry that I wouldn’t be so lucky to run into her again. I hoped that I was wrong. I would check online and see if she created a Facebook profile recently. I doubted it, but maybe, just maybe. I took a deep breath, started up my Lincoln Fire Department truck and began my short drive back to the firehouse to finish my shift.
 

Megan

It had been three days since my run-in with Sawyer, and I was still in shock. I thought about hopping online and looking for him on Facebook. I didn’t have an account, but I still could, maybe. No, it was a bad idea. It was an impulse I had stopped many times before. It was also my first official day teaching at Wheatland Elementary School and Charlotte’s first day in her preschool class. I had dropped her off expecting her to cry, but she didn’t. She ran off with one of her friends from Sunday school without so much as a goodbye.

I was glad that she was excited for school, but I also missed my baby girl already. The summer with her had been nice, but I guess it was time for me to get back to work. I walked into the office, nervous as a sinner on Sunday. It’s not like I hadn’t been to the school yet. I had worked on my classroom for several days since I arrived. It was just that the first day was always nerve-wracking. You had names and sometimes pictures of students, but because they were kindergarteners, their files were empty. They were blank canvases, so you had no idea what kind of group you were getting. I knew once I got in front of the kids I would be fine.

I smiled at the sweet, gray-haired lady that sat at the front desk. “Good Morning, Gracie.”

She looked up at me with a sweet smile. “Well, Good Morning, Miss Maxwell, there are donuts and coffee in the breakroom from Jules.”

I smiled. “Thanks!” She waved her hand at me as I began to walk back. “You’ll do great, Dear.”

I got my coffee and donut from the breakroom, talked to a couple of the other teachers that I had gotten to know over the last week, and walked back to my room. It felt very important, like I was about to conquer the world. Maybe it was being in a new place, or maybe it was returning back to work after a long summer off, but I was ready to shape some little minds.

After I set up the classroom and finished my treats I took a final, deep breath. This was it. I stood, propping the door open as the bell rang, and I waited for the sound of children. A moment later, I was greeted by a long line of smiling little children, with backpacks that were as big as them, and nervous parents kissing them goodbye. I smiled, genuinely happy to see the kids’ little faces, and waved to the parents.

“Good Morning. We’re going to have a great day.” The parents all nervously smiled back at me and then, with watching eyes, slowly began to leave. Luckily I only had one crier, who clung to her Mom, but I quickly made her feel comfortable with my bubbly teacher voice and then paired her with a friend she knew to walk her inside. Mom was grateful and shook my hand.

This was always my favorite part, getting to know the kiddos as little humans with big futures, futures that I would start the path for. No pressure or anything. I got down on my knees so I could be at their eye level. As they came up to me, I shook their hands and told them my name and then asked for theirs. After they said their names, I gave each one a unique compliment—their smile, their hair, their shoes—and asked them to sit on the circle carpet. Pleased with me, they each smiled and glided to where they needed to go. I could do this, I could do five-year-olds, and if I was honest with myself, deep in my mind, I was still five myself.

The days went by easily and I was getting quite used to my rambunctious class. I was now about a week and a half into my new teaching position. Charlotte was loving her preschool program and we were spending a lot of time either at Aunt Jules’s or at Emerson and Cal’s. Last night we had gone to a BBQ at Emerson’s house, and Charlotte got to ride one of their horses. She thought that was just about the coolest thing on the planet and insisted on telling everyone when I dropped her off at school this morning. Unfortunately, our night out meant I procrastinated on lesson plans, so I would stay an extra couple of hours at work today catching up. Jules had already picked Charlotte up early today for a late summer swim.

I sat at my messy desk, staring at my lesson plans for the week. Even with everything going on with my new job and my second job of single mom, I couldn’t get Sawyer out of my mind. I tried not to think about him and about how good it had felt to be in his arms again. Although he was capable of making my knees feel weak, I myself never felt weak with him. Sawyer always made me feel stronger when I was by his side, like we could face anything together, like I was capable of things I knew I wasn’t. I sighed and tried to focus again on my work. I had lesson plans and art projects that needed to be strategized, not to mention our upcoming field trips.

In kindergarten, one of the social studies topics is community helpers. In the unit, we go over all of the different jobs that are in a community and why they’re important. It’s also where the famous “What I want to be when I grow up” unit is in the curriculum. We had the honor of going to the Wheatland Police Department last week, and this week was the Lincoln Fire Department. I had called the Wheatland Fire Department, but they said that since their department consisted of one room and one truck, the classes usually took the twelve mile drive to Lincoln, which just happened to be where I had run into Sawyer the other night.

I wasn’t sure if the possibility of running into him again excited me or scared me. However, I truly doubted he would be at or near the fire department. I always saw Sawyer being a lawyer like his father.
I wonder if he followed in his dad’s footsteps?
I frowned to myself. Sadly, I gave up the right to know what he became when I left all those years ago. The questions about him wouldn’t stop running through my mind, though, as if I had no control. What was he doing in California? Did he find me, or was it the most insane coincidence in the history of man? I wasn’t sure, but I felt this drive to know. I knew that was bad. I yelled at myself in my mind.
No, Megan, just leave it alone, leave him alone!

I took a deep breath and focused back on my lesson plans. I was trying to fit in as many community helper field trips as possible, because the kids absolutely loved them. They loved this unit in general. Next week was the veterinarian’s office and then we were going to the post office. I had a class of twenty-five students, and over half of them were boys. Almost all of my boys wanted to be police officers or firefighters. One very spunky girl also wanted to be a firefighter. The girls either wanted to be a veterinarian or a teacher, and then there was Jason. He wanted to be driver for the Postal Service, just like his dad. I thought that was just about the cutest thing I had ever heard. I was working hard to make sure all of my little impressionable souls were covered, because I wanted each one to feel special since to me, they were. Seeing their smiling, giddy faces was worth the many hours of extra work putting it all together.

I wonder what Sawyer is doing right now? God, woman. No! Just stop.

I sat up with the sun beating through my window and the sound of Ralph, my overzealous rooster, screeching in through my open window. As I got up to close the window, I realized my feet were trapped under the blanket by something heavy and warm. I looked down at all 75 pounds of golden fluff weighing me down. “Chase, I need to get up.” My golden retriever yawned and then slowly plopped off the bed, leaving behind a pile of gold hair on my blanket. “Thanks.” I mumbled. Chase had been my pal for almost 8 years now. I found him shortly after Megan left. He was just a wet, matted, tiny furball then, but he definitely wasn’t tiny anymore.

He had quickly become my best friend. We would go fishing, hiking, kayaking and bike riding; we’d watch old westerns or
Tremors
, and we both enjoyed running—well, Chase enjoyed chasing more than running. In fact, Chase got his name because only a week after I rescued him, we went on a hike. When Chase saw a herd of cattle, he chased them. Not even five minutes later, we came across a couple of deer, and he chased them, too. After chasing my three-month-old puppy, I decided that only one name truly fit him.

I closed the window as a gust of warm wind brushed over my body. I padded down the hall, following the click of Chase’s nails on the wood. He stopped at the back door and whined. “Yeah, yeah. Hold on, Buddy.” I opened the door and Chase rushed out. Just as quickly as Chase was out the door, Buck, my horse, nudged his head in the door. I watched as Chase chased the geese, just as he did every morning. Then Chase went after Roger the Rooster, who ran for his life, just like every morning. Buck was an old horse that I inherited with the land. When the owners tried to move, Buck refused to go. He had been on the land for over two decades, so the sellers put a new contingency that the land was mine, if I kept the old man.

The owners said the geese had flown in a couple of years ago and were supposed to migrate with the rest, but for some reason they stayed on the land. So they became part of the package deal as well. Then there was Roger, who didn’t seem to want to stay, but the owners said they didn’t want a rooster anymore. Although I wasn’t sure if I wanted one either, something inside me cracked a little when they said those words. I couldn’t just toss the guy out, so although he was sometimes quite annoying, he too became a part of my home. I didn’t mind having a little extra company, and Chase loved it. In fact, old Buck and Chase became good pals.

“Hey Buck, how’s it going?” I rubbed his nose as he neighed in response. I gave him an apple, and then he was on his way, trotting slowly after Chase. He was pretty limber for an old horse. I yawned as I began making coffee, which was very much needed. I had worked forty-eight hours and only took twelve off to come home for a little bit. Now I was going back in for another forty-eight. I was one of the only bachelors, so I decided that I didn’t mind picking up extra shifts. My Aunt would come and take care of the animals each day when I was on long shifts. It usually helped me keep my mind off of Megan. Plus, my uncle allowed me to bring Chase in with me.

I got Chase certified as a rescue dog, so technically he was on the staff. As if the thought of him summoned him inside, Chase came running in with the morning paper, the two geese chasing after him. “Hey, Gary, Gert, no mud on the floors!” The geese squawked at me and waddled out the door. I shook my head at myself. As I sipped my coffee, I picked up the paper and almost choked when I saw who was on the front page.

   Local Southern Baptist Church Celebrated Fallen Soldier, Sergeant Charles Maxwell, with homecoming of his Wife and Daughter.

A picture of Megan, holding a little blonde girl in a summer dress and standing in front of the Church, was underneath. Next to it was a faraway picture of her late husband in full combat gear. Under the picture were details of his life and death. I took a deep breath. My hands shook and I swallowed hard. She had been married, but not to the guy at the club. I squinted a little harder and saw the same guy from the club standing not too far behind her in the picture. I wasn’t sure who he was, but I didn’t like the way he treated her the other night. A sense of relief washed over me. I now knew that she was okay. Well, not really. Her husband died, which was tragic, but it seemed that they had a good life, that she had been safe, but this wasn’t exactly enough evidence to prove anything.

Megan Maxwell
. My heart lurched. She wasn’t Megan Santos anymore. She wasn’t my Megan anymore. She belonged to someone else, and although he had passed away, her heart belonged to him and because I knew Megan too well, I knew that her heart most likely always would. My best friend, who I had fallen head over heels for, wasn’t mine. I swallowed hard again, feeling like I was swallowing sandpaper. I knew she left eight years ago, but she hadn’t felt truly gone, not until now. A little piece of my heart broke and, as if I weren’t in enough pain, I stilled at the realization of what Megan was going through alone. She lost her husband and was now a single mother. Shit. I knew that hit a chord in her soul that hurt. I knew this would be harder for her than most. I hated that I wasn’t there for her when she needed me.

I shook my head as I read the heroic story of her husband’s death and how he saved his fellow soldier’s life. I took a deep breath. I was happy that she had found him and then sad that she had lost him. A little pain flickered in my gut again. Megan had already had a hard life. She had obviously finally found a family, and then this happened to her. She didn’t deserve it. She deserved to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me. I sighed. The little girl looked like a perfect mixture of the two, and she had her mom’s smile.

She was here in California. The other night wasn’t a fluke. This paper was from the town over, but since I lived out in the country where the borders blended, I had the neighbor boy pick me up both papers and leave them on my driveway when he could. She was probably only miles away from me, and the thought both excited and terrified me. What did any of this mean? When I found her, what would I do? I couldn’t not take the time to find her, not when I was this close. I can’t believe I just let her leave the bar the other night.

I had promised myself so many times that I wouldn’t do that, but when the time came I was too in shock to think clearly. I had told myself I learned a lesson: not to let the things I loved slip through my fingers, and yet here I was, standing in my kitchen, thinking about how I messed up again. The thing is that I never thought it would actually happen. It had always been a vision of mine, but one that seemed more like a dream. I had thought I had seen her so many times in the last eight years that I didn’t truly believe it until it was too late and she was being carried away. Nothing felt real until I’d watched her leave again.

Having her in my arms again, kissing her like I’d wanted to do every night for the last eight years, was the best moment of my life. The best I could do was hope that our paths crossed again soon. I chuckled lightly to myself. I had read a book on the law of attraction just for the fun of it one day; my uncle swore by it. The theory was that if you focused enough time and energy on thoughts, they would come true. Maybe it worked, because God knew I spent every waking moment thinking of Megan. She was too close not to find. I would ask around. Heck, I would go to church next Sunday if I had to. She was here, and it would happen. First, I needed to figure out what I was going to say.

I looked back down to the paper and stared at the picture once more. I felt a slight sense of guilt thinking it, but maybe there was still room for me in her heart? God, that sounds terrible. She lost her husband, and here I was trying to snake my way back into her heart. I cracked my neck at the ways it made me feel like a total ass, and then I decided I didn’t care. Her husband’s death was awful, and I truly wished it never happened, but it did, and he was gone. I cracked my neck again and winced. I knew the moment I saw her in the club that I hadn’t stopped loving her. The kiss we shared the night she left had rocked my world. I had spent almost an entire decade looking for that spark again. No woman was able to hold a candle to Megan. She had made me want to be a better man that night, and I had never stopped. Maybe if I was better, she would come back.

I shook my head as I sipped my coffee and placed the paper on the counter. “Small world” didn’t even begin to explain it. I remembered reading something about things happening for a reason and couldn’t help the tiny smirk that played on my lips at the irony. My dad always said God had two things: a plan and a good sense of humor. I laughed lightly as I took another sip of my coffee. In this case, God had both. Suddenly, my alarm went off on my phone. “Shit.” Chase came running inside, wagging his tail, completely aware of what time it was. I slammed my coffee back, placed my mug in the sink and headed to the door. I still needed to feed Buck before I left. I decided I had enough time to take a quick shower before I headed to work. I had plenty of time to think about how to go about this whole Megan thing during my shift.