Her Homecoming Wish

“I have no intention of letting people get drunk. If I decide to have wine tastings, Danny Adams can’t tell me not to.” A strange quiet came over the table, and eyes went wide. Okay, maybe she’d sounded overly defiant, but she was tired of people telling her what to do.

Nora spoke first. “Dan is my husband’s best friend, and I’ve never ever heard him called Danny.” She grinned. “But I’m thinkin’ I’ll be doing it from now on. Do you know him, Mack?”

Not as much as she’d like to. She held in a little shiver. Where did that thought come from? Probably from the same place that wouldn’t let her forget how it felt when Dan had her pressed against the wall in the store last week. She gave as casual a shrug as she could manage.

“I’ve known Danny since I was in fifth grade.” There was a delighted intake of breath from the cousins. “He and my brother were best friends in high school. I was four years behind them and pestered them all the time. And by pestered, I mean tattled on. They got in more trouble...”

Cathy laughed. “Oh, those two boys had more energy than brains, didn’t they? Remember when they spray painted all the senior names right down the middle of Main Street before graduation? And they took the principal’s car and put it out on the old pier, and everyone was afraid the pier would collapse before the police could get the car off there.”

“That wasn’t funny,” Thea said with a frown. “That little escapade could have cost their parents a bundle. I don’t know how those two didn’t end up in jail...” Her voice trailed off. She looked at Mack and had the good grace to show regret, remembering one of those two was Mack’s brother. “I mean, not that they were bad kids...”

Nora’s mouth had fallen open. “Are you telling me that straight-arrow Dan—I mean Danny—Adams was a wild child? I don’t believe it! He’s so quiet and honorable and heroic. He helped save my Asher when he was in a bad place a few years ago, before we met. I mean...he’s our Sheriff Dan. He’s literally run into burning buildings to save people. He climbs trees to rescue kittens. He’s a local legend. Our hero.”

It had been enough of a shock to see Dan in uniform the other night. But a hero? Well, maybe that shouldn’t be a shock. At heart, Dan had always been good. She thought of the time she’d fallen off her bike when she was twelve. She’d been bruised, bloody and in tears when she got home. Dan—who was always at their house—was the one who’d dried her tears, joked around until he got her to laugh and bandaged her cuts. That day was probably when her girlish crush on him really began.

But oh, he’d been wild. Much too wild for wearing a law-enforcement uniform. Yet here he was, twenty years later, the hero of Gallant Lake. Her chest warmed. Good for Danny. While she’d been screwing up her life, he’d been rebuilding his. And she shouldn’t be doing anything to tarnish that. She reached for one of the ginger cookies Nora had set out.

“No, they weren’t bad. They were...energetic.” She heard Cathy give a soft huff of laughter. “And yes, they were rascals, but they were just kids back then.” She bit into the cookie. “Just a couple of active, adventurous boys.”

That was a stretch. The two of them had more than one run-in with the old police chief, Mike DiNofrio. Chief DiNofrio had developed a soft spot for Ryan and Dan for some reason. Mack realized she still had a soft spot for Dan. And maybe a little bit of that girlish crush, too.

“Daddy, come on. We’ll never get to the top if we don’t hurry!”

Chloe was running ahead on the path up the side of Gallant Mountain, zigzagging around trees and in and out of his view. Oh, to have that child’s energy.

“I’m coming, sweetie. Daddy’s a little tired today.” He tried to pick up his pace, ignoring the protest from his aching body. Nothing like wrestling with some guy who outweighs you by forty pounds and is amped up on meth to make it clear you’re getting older. Pete Malteer had taken his mom’s front door right off its hinges last night. Not the screen door—the solid wood front door. The guy had been out of his mind, furious that his poor mother refused to give him any more money, knowing he’d just spend it all on drugs and booze.

When Dan responded to the call, Karen Malteer had been cowering in the garage, hiding from Pete while she called 911. Shaneka at the 911 call center kept Karen on the line until Dan pulled in. He could hear Pete inside the house, trashing the place. Idiot. No, that wasn’t right. It was the drugs making Pete that way. Shaneka told him where to find Karen, and he got her safely over to the neighbor’s place before returning to deal with Pete. Dan called for backup, but there’d been an accident up on Route 28 and a shooting in the southern part of the county, so everyone was busy. He was on his own.

Dan was good at talking people down, but Pete wasn’t in the mood to talk. He’d taken one look at Dan in the doorway and charged. They’d landed on the sidewalk three steps below, with Dan generously absorbing Pete’s impact. Because he was a good guy like that. Pete started swinging, but Dan had the advantage of not being higher than a kite. Pete only landed a few blows before Dan had him cuffed and cursing on the ground a few minutes later. He was paying the price today, though. His ribs were covered with bruises. So were his knuckles, because Pete wasn’t the only guy who could land a punch.

A few minutes later, Chloe came back down the trail, running straight at him instead of her usual meandering. He automatically went on alert, looking for other hikers or an animal that might have startled her.

“Dad! There’s a lady up there dancing in the clearing! She’s barefoot and she’s dancing! Do you think maybe she’s a fairy? Or maybe it’s the ghost from Halcyon!”

Halcyon was a local landmark—an actual castle over a hundred years old. Blake and Amanda Randall lived there with their family. And yes, it was rumored to be haunted, but Dan doubted very much that a ghost was tripping the light fantastic on Gallant Mountain. His first guess? Sounded like someone high on something.

Damn it, he couldn’t even enjoy a hike with his little girl without those freakin’ drug dealers spoiling his day. And here he was with no gun, no radio, no nothing. Just cargo shorts, a T-shirt and sneakers. And his daughter. Dan hesitated, considering whether to go forward or get Chloe back to the car. If it was someone high, they could easily tumble over the ledge and fall several hundred feet down the side of the mountain. Or they could put another hiker in danger.

“Okay, Chloe. We’ll go check out your dancer. But you have to promise to stay right with me, okay? And don’t say a word until I know it’s safe.”

Chloe rolled her eyes dramatically, hands on her hips. “Dad, it’s just a dancing lady. Of course it’s safe.”

He felt a sharp regret that his little girl would someday have to know that people were seldom “just” anything, and were too often not safe. As a cop, it had always been a tough balancing act for him to maintain—seeing the worst of people on the job and trying to shield Chloe from that when he was home.

“You’re probably right, but humor me, okay?” She nodded and followed him up the path. He’d explained more than once that sometimes she and her mom just had to let him be who he was—a man determined to keep them safe, even if it meant he worried too much. Chloe had accepted it more readily than Susanne, who didn’t like him scaring Chloe with the way he acted.

The clearing just below the famous Kissing Rock near the top of Gallant Mountain was about an acre. Dan suspected someone had cleared it decades ago, but local lore said the grassy plot was a natural little oasis in the middle of the forest. It was anchored on one end by the legendary bus-size boulder and at the other end by a sharp drop-off with a spectacular view of Gallant Lake and the Catskill Mountains. It was privately owned, but the no-trespassing signs meant nothing to locals who’d been coming up here for generations to make out on the famous Kissing Rock.

Not that Dan would ever ignore the signs. He had explicit permission from the owner, Blake Randall, who owned much of the mountain these days. Blake had bought up a ton of property around the lake a few years ago to protect it from development, and he’d held on to the mountain land.

Dan could see the clearing just ahead, and Chloe was tugging his hand to get him to hurry. Knowing he wanted her to be quiet, she whispered, but in a voice that probably carried halfway up the mountain.

“See, Daddy? See the dancing lady?”

He stopped at the edge of the woods, figuring he could tuck Chloe behind a tree if there was trouble. But he hadn’t anticipated this kind of trouble.

Mackenzie Wallace was twirling in the center of the clearing, blond hair swinging. She was wearing jeans and a dark blue shirt advertising Nora’s coffee shop, the Gallant Brew. And her feet were indeed bare. With fire engine–red polish on her toes. She had earphones on—he could see the bright pink cord leading from her ears to her back pocket. Whatever music she was listening to had made her completely uninhibited. Her hands were up in the air, her eyes were closed and she was lost in herself and in the moment. She swung her arms out and spun again, then started jumping to the beat of the silent song. The sight made his chest go tight. She was beautiful, and it had nothing to do with physical appearance. It was her spirit—she was beautiful in her freedom.

Dan felt as though he was intruding on something important. Something deeply personal. As much as he wanted to know what she was doing barefoot in a clearing that was just showing the bright greens of spring, he didn’t want to intrude on her moment. He should walk away. But his feet were rooted to the ground as securely as the trees around him. Chloe’s attention span was substantially shorter than his, though, and she forgot to even try to whisper.

“See, Dad? I told you it was a barefoot lady dancing on the mountain! Isn’t she pretty? Can we dance, too?” Chloe’s high voice must have broken through whatever music was playing in Mack’s ears, because she stopped dancing and started looking around. She froze when she saw them, then squinted. Dan realized they were in the tree shadows and might look threatening, so he stepped into the sunlight.

“Dan? What are you doing...?” She yanked the ear pods out and stared, her mouth falling open but no more words coming out.

His smile was automatic. That seemed to be how it worked around her. “I think the bigger question is what are you doing? Having a little Sound of Music moment up here, Mack?”

Her face went bright red, and she quickly ran her hands over her hair, pushing it back over her shoulders. “I... I’m...hiking. It’s been a long time since I saw the Kissing Rock, so...”

His right brow shot up. “So you figured you’d celebrate the occasion with an interpretive dance?”

Mack’s laughter was quick and full. “Yup. That’s it. You caught me honoring the mountain gods.” Her head tipped to the side. “Is that not still the tradition?”

“The tradition these days is for people to honor the no-trespassing signs on the trail.” He was still smiling, so she didn’t even pretend to take him seriously as she walked their way.

“Looks like I’m not the only one breaking the rules, Officer.” Chloe giggled at Mack’s observation. Mack looked down at her and grinned. “And you’re corrupting the town’s youth. Who is this pretty lady?”

Chloe jumped forward, her hand extended. “I’m Chloe and this is my dad. Why are you barefoot? Why were you dancing? Do you live here? Are you the ghost?”

Mack’s eyes went wide at the barrage of questions, then she gave Dan a quick wink before answering.

“I’m Mackenzie Wallace, but you can call me Mack. I grew up here a long...” She glanced up at Dan. “...long time ago. I’m definitely not a ghost. I’m dancing because Whitney Houston was telling me she needed to dance with somebody, and I figured I’m somebody, right?” Chloe nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

But there was one question left unanswered. Dan gestured to her feet. “And where are your shoes, dancing queen?”

Mack’s face twisted. “Those weren’t shoes. They were torture devices.” She held up one foot to expose the ugly, open blister just below her ankle. “The other foot is just as bad. I couldn’t take one more step in those things once I got up here.”

“Let me guess,” Dan said with a chuckle. “You decided to hike up the mountain in those heavy boots you just bought this week.”

“Well, I wore them around the shop for a few days to break them in.”

“Because you do so much walking in a liquor store. What did you wear for socks, Mack?”

“Um...my gym socks. You know, tighty-whities?”

He closed his eyes tightly. “That is not what tighty-whities are. And those socks are no match for a mountain and a brand-new pair of hiking boots. Where are they now?”

Chloe raised her hand to get their attention. “Wait. Do you guys know each other? Daddy, do you know Mack? Did you arrest her or something?”

Mack started laughing again. The sound of her laughter, so deep and free, did something weird to Dan’s chest cavity. It resonated there and made him relax somehow. Mack leaned over to face Chloe.

“Actually, your daddy did try to arrest me, but it was a misunderstanding. We’ve known each other a long time. Since I was a little girl not much older than you are, I’m guessing. Are you ten? Twelve?”

Chloe straightened, looking very pleased at those guesses. “I’m eight, but I’ll be nine in November. What was my daddy like as a kid?”

Mack’s eyes flickered up to his face, and she must have noted his tension. Chloe was bound to hear stories of Dan’s misspent youth eventually. But not today. Mack flashed him another wink.

“Your daddy was my big brother’s best friend, and they did a lot of...fun...things when they were boys. How about you? What do you like to do for fun?”

As easily distracted as ever, Chloe launched into a list of all the things she liked to do. Mack seemed to be listening closely, and Dan appreciated that she didn’t talk down to Chloe or treat her as less than a person. He’d dated a few women who seemed to see his daughter as an unfortunate intrusion on their time. Dan followed the two females walking hand in hand toward the Kissing Rock at the base of the mountain peak. Didn’t really need to be thinking about dating and Mackenzie in the same breath. That was a nonstarter for a couple of reasons. But most importantly for how their pasts were tragically entwined.

She’d never blamed him for Ryan’s accident, probably because she didn’t know—or forgot—that he was the one who’d stolen the gin they were drinking that night. Maybe she’d forgotten his involvement. But Dan never would.

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