Her Homecoming Wish

Dan sat at one of the tables with a sigh. “Divorce is never fun.”

She spun on her heel, which wasn’t easy in those boots.

“You, too?”

“Three years ago.” He nodded, staring at the floor. “Susanne and I were able to keep the focus on what was best for our daughter, but it still feels like a failure, you know? You don’t have kids?”

Her heart pinched tight. “No. No kids. And yes. Feels like a failure.” She gave him a thin smile. “But I did get custody of our giant grumpy cat.”

Dan chuckled. “I can’t tell from your tone if that’s a win or a loss.”

She thought of how Rory had tried to smack Dad’s bowling trophies off the shelf one by one that morning while she scrambled to catch them like a juggler, cursing the cat the whole time.

“I’m not sure, either,” she laughed. “He’s a pain in the ass. But he keeps the bed warm.” Oh, damn. She waved her hand in dismissal. “Well, crap. Talk about oversharing.”

Dan gave her a quizzical look. “Don’t take this the wrong way, because it’s not a criticism, but... I don’t remember you swearing. Like...ever.”

She gestured to herself. “New leaf, remember? This is new and improved Mackenzie, with no mouth filter. And hiking boots.”

And twenty extra pounds since high school. She cringed inside. He must think she’d just let herself go entirely.

“Hey...” Dan’s voice was soft as he stood and took a step toward her, forehead furrowed. “New leaves are supposed to make you feel good. What’s wrong?”

Her breath caught as she tried to steady herself. She could not have a postdivorce meltdown right now. Those were reserved for late evenings, when she was alone and in the dark. She bit her lip hard to bring herself back under control.

“Like you said... Divorce is a failure, and mine’s officially only a month old. And look at me. I’m an overweight mess dressed in combat boots.” She blinked, willing this pity party to go away. Dan’s gentle laughter helped.

“Okay, let’s break down that comment. I said divorce felt like a failure, not that it was one.” He ran his eyes up and down her body. “I don’t see a mess, or anything wrong with your weight. I see a woman who’s just as beautiful as ever, in a very grown-up way.” A funny vibration started low in her abdomen. He thought she was beautiful? His hand touched her upper arm gently. “And if you want to call those combat boots, you go right ahead. You’d make a kick-ass soldier, and you’re gonna knock the hell out of this new leaf of yours.”

Dan sat in his patrol car a few nights later, thinking about that conversation with Mackie. She considered herself a hot mess, but all he could see was her sass and sharp humor. The new fighting spirit she seemed to have. She’d stood her ground that first night, wielding a baseball bat. Every inch of her was an intoxicating, curving temptation. If that was a hot mess...he was into it.

He shifted on the seat, glancing at the radar as a sedan rolled slowly and carefully by. He’d intentionally parked so he’d be easily visible to drivers. Anyone who whipped by him tonight over the speed limit was literally begging for trouble. But he was really hoping no one would. He was worn-out and looking forward to a few days off. The swing shift schedule was a killer, but he didn’t have much choice.

When Gallant Lake decided it couldn’t afford its own police force ten years ago, the county sheriff’s office had taken over. Dan was a wet-behind-the-ears rookie back then, but the town and county made an agreement. They made a position for him as a deputy sheriff, along with the former police chief, Mike DiNofrio, and gave Dan and Mike the Gallant Lake district to cover. It was the county’s way of reassuring the locals that they’d still have coverage by guys they knew.

But they were stretched thin these days, thanks to budget cuts. If there was something going on elsewhere in the county, Gallant Lake was out of luck, with the nearest on-duty sheriff up to twenty miles away. The state troopers helped with coverage, but again, it depended on who was where. There were too many times when there wasn’t a law enforcement officer anywhere near Gallant Lake, much less patrolling its streets on a regular basis.

And now that the Gallant Lake Resort was expanding and bringing a lot more tourists and workers to the area, the town needed more law enforcement coverage, not less. There’d been some talk about restarting the local police force, and the new mayor was behind the idea. But it wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, thanks to politics—one of the few things Dan hated almost as much as he hated the cheap, deadly drugs coming into this area lately.

Several more vehicles meandered past his post. The last one gave him a glare and jumped on the gas shortly after passing him, as if taunting him. He was too tired to play games today. He didn’t hit the lights right away, watching to make sure the guy wasn’t stupid enough to stay at the high speed. Sure enough, the truck slowed back down again. Good thing. He was in no mood to deal with some hotshot kid in a jacked-up truck.

When Dan picked up his daughter the next morning, after far too little sleep, Chloe had enough energy for the both of them. As usual, she was the life force that kept him going.

“Dad! Oh my God! Did you hear? There’s a fashion show at the resort and Mom said I could be in it! I’m gonna be a model! In a real fashion show!” Chloe grabbed his hand on the sidewalk and tugged him toward Susanne’s house. Which used to be their house. Back when they were a family. His daughter’s words didn’t sink in until they were walking inside.

“Wait...did you say you’re going to be in a fashion show, Chloe? Is it a contest or something?”

“I don’t think it’s a contest. But Miss Mel at the shop said she’ll order me something special to wear, and she said it could be purple!” Dan couldn’t help smiling, despite his confusion. Chloe’s entire room was purple, from walls to curtains to carpet. At both houses.

Susanne stuck her head out of the kitchen doorway and waved at Dan. “Hey! Come have a cup of coffee while she gets her stuff ready. I’ll fill you in on the big fashion show.” She winked. “No reality TV stuff, I promise!”

While Susanne was pregnant, she and Dan had made themselves a few promises, as all new parents do. They’d provide a united front at all times. They wouldn’t be overprotective helicopter parents, but they wouldn’t be free-range parents, either. And they’d never push their child to do something they didn’t want to do. No screaming stage mom. No cursing hockey dad. No unhealthy competition of any kind. They’d let their child be a child. No overwrought reality show parenting.

That became their mantra for all of it. No reality shows! Susanne had a particular hatred for the cable shows that seemed to glorify horrid parents exploiting their children, who were pushed to win dance contests or kiddie beauty pageants or whatever. After Chloe was born, they realized parenting—not to mention marriage—was a lot more complicated than they’d ever anticipated. When one of them thought the other—or Chloe—might be getting a little too carried away, they’d remind each other there were no cameras around. No need for drama.

A fashion show? That one sounded straight out of reality show land.

“I swear she’s only doing it for fun,” Susanne said as she handed him a mug of coffee. “No competition. It’s part of the big charity fund-raiser the resort does for that veterans’ group every year. You know, with the golf tournament and the fancy gala? Samir is on the board this year, with Amanda Randall. She said they were going to be looking for local fashion models, including children. So he suggested Chloe.”

Dr. Samir Badawi was Susanne’s fiancé. He’d come to the country as an orphan from Sudan, sponsored by a church in Gallant Lake, and was now a dermatologist in White Plains. He was a good guy as far as Dan could tell—soft-spoken, kind, smart. Chloe seemed to like him. And Susanne was over the moon for the guy.

It made sense—Samir was everything in a mate that Dan wasn’t. Wealthy. Didn’t have a dangerous job with crazy hours. Susanne probably didn’t text Samir all day just to make sure he was okay. She didn’t have to worry that he might die on his shift. Her fears over being a cop’s wife had been a big factor in their divorce. He’d tried to explain that her fretting distracted him and actually put him at more risk, but that argument just made things worse. So yeah, Samir was probably a better fit for Susanne. Dan wasn’t sure how he felt about the guy making decisions about Chloe’s activities, though. He also wasn’t sure he wanted his eight-year-old daughter parading around in front of strangers.

“I thought you and I were still making decisions about Chloe as a team.” He sounded more resentful than he’d intended. Dan usually swallowed pesky things like emotions to keep from showing them. Susanne’s eyebrow rose.

“Samir is going to be Chloe’s stepfather in six months. I think that makes him part of the so-called team, Dan. And I did text you yesterday to call me, which you never did.” She had a right to be ticked at him. He drained half his mug of coffee and reined in his annoyance. She knew he didn’t answer her texts during shifts unless she said it was urgent. Call me wasn’t urgent. But there was no sense in both of them getting mad.

“I get that, Suze. I do.” He splayed his hands in surrender. “And I like Samir. But Chloe’s still our daughter. A heads-up would have been nice, even if you didn’t think my opinion was required.” He’d tried to sound reasonable, but he could hear the resentment in his voice, and so could Susanne. Instead of challenging him, she bowed her head and sighed.

“I’m sorry if it felt like a blindside, but I did try. I can’t help it that you were working. And we just agreed yesterday after we took her to Five and Design to talk to Mel, and Chloe got so excited about it.” She gave him a smile. “As you may have noticed. She’ll be wearing a modest party dress. No self-respecting reality show would be interested in this. I promise.”

Dan chuckled despite himself, tension leaving his shoulders. Melanie Lowery—no, Melanie Brannigan as of last month—owned an upscale women’s boutique on Main Street. Mel had married sports agent Shane Brannigan on St. Patrick’s Day at the resort, and it had been a blowout of a party. The former fashion model had settled in Gallant Lake to be close to her Lowery cousins, including Asher’s wife, Nora. Their other cousin, Amanda Randall, was the wife of the owner of the Gallant Lake Resort, the town’s biggest employer and tourist draw. And a fourth cousin, Bree Caldwell from North Carolina, had founded the veteran support charity with her husband. It seemed unlikely that this was some mad plot to corrupt his daughter. He reached out and clinked Susanne’s mug with his.

“If the Lowery women are involved, I’m sure Chloe will be fine. And she’s definitely excited.” He straightened at the sound of his daughter galloping down the stairs. “Sorry if I overreacted. It’s been a tough couple of days.”

Susanne nodded. “You look beat. I heard there was another overdose. Are you any closer to finding the bastards selling the stuff?”

His shoulders slumped under the weight of what was becoming a familiar question. “Nothing yet. We need more dedicated investigators, but the department is stretched too thin on this new budget. We don’t have the manpower to do the job right.”

She put her hand on his shoulder, and he could feel her tension. Talking about understaffing was probably making her even more nervous about his job. “Has there been any more talk about reestablishing a Gallant Lake police department?”

Dan turned to wash his mug in the sink. Treating this little house like home was a tough habit to break after sharing years of family life there.

“The politicians are talking, but that doesn’t mean anything. They’re always talking.” Dan hated politicians and their verbal gymnastics.

Susanne watched him dry the mug and put it away in the cupboard. “If you’re that understaffed, do you think you’ll have to work the night of the gala next month? Chloe will want you there. And she has a fitting at the boutique in a couple weeks. I’ll text you once we have a time.” Susanne knew he had little control over his schedule. It wasn’t as if he ever wanted to miss family events. She cleared her throat. “Rumor has it Blake Randall is pushing hard for a local police department, and he has some clout as the owner of the resort. And didn’t you say Asher was on some committee about it?” She hesitated. “If you were chief...”

If he was the police chief of Gallant Lake, he’d probably be working even more hours than he was now. Chloe dashed into the kitchen, school backpack over one shoulder and a purple duffel bag over the other. He glanced at his watch. She’d be late for school if he didn’t get moving.

“Kiss your mom goodbye, baby, and let’s go.” He looked back at Susanne as he headed out. “Honestly, Suze, I don’t get into what the committees and politicians are up to. It’s all just noise until a decision is made.” He held the door open for his daughter. “I’ll have her back here by Sunday night.”

Dan dropped Chloe off at school and drove to the small Victorian house that was his home now. It was just a few blocks from Susanne’s place in one direction and the elementary school in another. Close enough that Chloe could ride her bike back and forth between her parents’ houses. He crawled into bed to catch as much rest as he could before picking his daughter up later. These swing shifts were going to be the death of him yet.

As usual, every worry from every corner of his life rushed through his mind as he lay there, trying to fall asleep. Among them were the usuals—who was selling drugs in his town? What would happen once Susanne and Samir married? The house Dan and Susanne had bought right after they’d married was a little humble for a doctor. Susanne was still in her thirties. Would she and Samir have children? How would Chloe deal with that?

But today, as had happened every day this week, his last thoughts before closing his eyes were of a sassy blonde standing in her father’s liquor store wearing those ridiculous hiking boots with a smile that wasn’t quite as sugar sweet as it used to be. Mack now had a daring smile that teased of adventure. And the light in her brown eyes teased at even more. Or maybe he was just imagining that. After all, she’d been Perfect Mackenzie back in school—perfect grades, perfect clothes, perfectly angelic behavior. She’d been the sugary counterbalance to all the trouble her brother and Dan managed to find. Determined to leave Gallant Lake in her rearview mirror, she’d gone off to college in California, then married a banker and moved to a mansion in the wealthiest enclave of Greenwich, Connecticut. Dan had been happy for the kid when he’d heard.

But she wasn’t a kid anymore. And he had a feeling she might not be all that angelic, either. And that’s the thought that kept him awake the most.

Chapter Four

“Welcome to your first Women in Charge meeting, Mackenzie!” Nora Peyton raised her foam-topped mug of cappuccino in Mack’s direction. “The only rule for our meetings is that there are no rules. We just brainstorm and try to help each other. There are no bad ideas, because even the worst idea might lead to something brilliant.”

Nora’s Gallant Brew coffee shop was closed for the evening on Thursday, and the front row of lights was off. There were five other women gathered at the table nearest the coffee machines—Nora, petite and smiling, with her brunette bob tucked behind her ears. Nora’s two cousins were there—Mel Brannigan, owner of the Five and Design boutique, and Amanda Randall, whose husband owned the Gallant Lake Resort, and an interior designer in her own right. While the Lowery cousins were new faces to Mack, the other two were much more familiar: Cathy Meadows, the former owner of the coffee shop and current part-time employee there, and Thea Winters, who’d owned the Gallant Lake Flower Shop for at least fifty years.

“So glad you could join us, Mackenzie.” Amanda leaned forward. She was petite like Nora but had long blond curls that made her look a bit like Little Bo Peep, especially with the pink polka-dot top she was wearing. Amanda was full of restless energy, shifting in her chair and tapping the side of her mug with her spoon. “The female business owners of Gallant Lake need to stick together!”

“My friends call me Mack. And I don’t actually own anything. My dad is the boss...”

He’d surprised her a few times this week, though, repeatedly hinting that he wanted Mack to take a more active role in the family business while she was here. She got the feeling he wanted her staying a lot longer than just to regroup from her divorce. But she wasn’t ready to consider a permanent move to Gallant Lake just yet.

Mel put her hand on Mack’s arm. “How is Carl? I meant to get over to see him last week, but I had an awful spring cold and didn’t dare risk making him sick.”

“He’s good, Mel. Rarin’ to go, but the doctors are still worried about his ankle.” She’d met with the doctors that morning and had been dismayed at what they’d had to say. Before she could explain, Cathy—of all people—spoke up.

“The doctors think they’ll have to do more surgery to repair the tendon.” Cathy shook her head, pushing her braid of gray hair back over her shoulder. “If they do, Carl won’t be able to put an ounce of weight on it for weeks. Silly old goat, climbing on ladders at his age...” She looked up and noted Mack’s raised eyebrows. How did Dad’s former neighbor know all this when Mack had just heard it a few hours ago? Cathy blushed and rushed on. “I just...happened to stop by...before I came here...to say hi to my old friend Carl...because I was in White Plains to...”

The three Lowery cousins exchanged amused glances. Mack wasn’t sure what she was missing. Nora coughed and began nodding quickly.

“I sent Cathy to White Plains to pick up an order and told her she should stop and see her...old friend.” Dad had told Mack that Cathy had semiretired a few years ago. She’d sold the shop to Nora but stayed on as a part-time employee. Nora shifted in her chair, then straightened and grinned brightly. “So anyway, we started this group last fall, half as a joke, but we’re actually starting to get some things done here in Gallant Lake. We have more members, of course, but this was an impromptu gathering to meet you, and some ladies couldn’t make it. Including our esteemed mayor, Margie Malone.”

Thea harrumphed, her mouth twisting into a scowl. Mack had known the woman all her life, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen her smile. Such an odd personality for a florist.

“Esteemed to you, maybe,” Thea said. “The jury’s still out on her. After all these years, she’s—”

“She’s making great progress.” Amanda finished, but probably not the way Thea would have. “She secured a grant to fix up the park, and she’s working with Nate at the hardware store to finish the waterfront project and the boardwalk that runs behind the shops over there.”

Thea rolled her eyes but didn’t respond, pressing her mouth into a tight, thin line.

“As I was saying,” Nora continued, “we started meeting monthly, or as needed, to discuss how our businesses are doing and come up with ideas for promotions and stuff. And we encourage each other.”

“Why do you call it Women in Charge?” Mack asked.

“That started at my wedding a few years ago,” Amanda laughed. “It was a small wedding...”

“In a castle...” Mel muttered. Mack knew Amanda and her husband lived in the historic old castle named Halcyon, just outside town. The place had been vacant for ages. In fact, when Mack was a teen, the rumor was that the place was haunted.

Amanda lifted a shoulder at her cousin’s comment. “Anyway... I didn’t want a big wedding party, and there’s no way I could choose one cousin over the others, so Blake and I dubbed them the Women in Charge for the day. My friend Julie was my attendant, but these ladies, along with my other cousin Bree, organized every little detail for me.” Amanda sat back, sipping from her coffee. “I was recovering from an...accident. And I was pregnant, which my cousins didn’t know at the time. It was such a relief to hand off the worries to them. We figured if we could help each other like that, imagine if the women in town started lifting each other up? And since we’re all involved with businesses here, it just kind of grew from there.” She grinned at Mel. “That whole pregnant-at-the-wedding thing seemed to have caught on.”

Mack looked at Mel in surprise. “You’re expecting?”

Mel used to be a famous fashion model. She went by the name Mellie Low back then. It was easy to see how that career came about—the brunette was tall and striking, even without a bit of makeup on. Her dark hair was pulled back into an artfully messy twist, and Mack suspected Mel’s casual slacks and sweater sported expensive designer labels.

The woman’s face went pink as she patted her flat stomach. “One month married and three months pregnant. Not the way Shane and I planned it, but we’re happy. And terrified.”

Nora smiled. “You’ll be perfect parents.” She patted Cathy’s hand. “Even though Cathy isn’t a business owner now, she was one for years, and knows everyone and everything involving Gallant Lake. We’re newcomers, so we rely on Cathy and Thea and some of the other women to keep us from rocking the apple cart too much.”

Mack nodded. Cathy hadn’t changed much through the years—she’d always been such a free spirit. Her hair, now pewter instead of the auburn Mack remembered, was still as long as ever, pulled back in that signature heavy braid. Mom used to call Cathy a “hippie girl who never grew up,” but they’d been close, if unlikely, friends. Cathy used to live in the loft over the coffee shop, and Mack’s parents were just two doors down. Mack used to run over to Cathy’s shop for hot cocoa after school, and Cathy always tossed extra marshmallows on top. When Mom got sick, Cathy was there every day, bringing meals or magazines or just sitting and holding Mom’s hand. But Cathy seemed to be having a hard time maintaining eye contact across the table. Maybe the memories made her as sad as they did Mack.

“So...is your dad really going to have wine tastings at the store?” Amanda winked at the women around the table. “That would be so much fun! We could promote it from the resort as something guests could attend, and maybe encourage other shops to stay open later that night. With a little wine to loosen the purse strings, people might spend money more freely.”

Thea surprised them all when she agreed. “I’m not sure how ethical it is to rely on booze for business, but we need more bodies downtown before we all go belly up.” She glanced out the windows to a quiet Main Street. “We need more businesses, too.”

It seemed the number of boarded-up storefronts increased every time Mack came home. Dad told her it was better now than it had been, but not by much. Most of the businesses they’d lost during the recession and the resort’s struggles twenty years ago were gone for good. Main Street had no bakery, no restaurant, no gift shops. There wasn’t even a bar downtown. Everyone went to the Chalet for drinks and music. The pizza place and townie bar just outside the village center had been there forever. It was where all the cool kids used to hang out after school, but that had never been Mack’s crowd.

“If we get more people,” Nora said, “the businesses will follow the money. But I think plying people with alcohol may not be the way to go. I think Sheriff Dan will have something to say about that. And if Dan doesn’t want it to happen, it won’t.”

Mack frowned. Dan was a sheriff, but he wasn’t going to tell her what to do with her father’s business. Along with the bad news about Dad’s foot, they’d had good news today, too—she was an official legal agent for the store and could host wine tastings there.