Chapter 4

Four

Damon

“Don’t take the wrappers in,” I warned my kids; they had just finished McDonald’s on the way to my parents’ house. “You know Grandma doesn’t like it when I feed you McDonald’s.”

Jason laughed. “You’re already having us keep secrets, Dad. That’s not good.” The boy had turned seven a week ago, and he was smart as a whip.

I grunted. “If you don’t keep the secret, no more McDonald’s.”

“I’ll keep the secret,” Trent said from the back seat. He was almost five and a total sidekick to his brother. Granted, Jason was a pretty good big brother, even though he’d pushed him a couple of months ago and broken his arm. Which he had been punished for.

“Yes, everyone keep the secret of McDonald’s. But remember, don’t keep any other secrets, especially from your father.”

Jason laughed, and then Trent laughed, and that made me laugh because I was pretty sure that Trent didn’t get the joke.

I cut the engine, and all of us got out. The dogs were barking, and the front door was open, although the screen door was still in place. I loved the summer, and I was pretty sure my mother would be out in the garden because she loved summer too.

The kids went up the stairs. It wasn’t two seconds later that I heard another car pulling up on the gravel drive.

The boys ran back out. “Uncle Noah!” they called out simultaneously.

I grinned as I watched my brother get out of his truck and bend down to pick up both boys and put them over his shoulders. “What are you miscreants doing?”

They giggled, laughed and protested.

I held the door as Noah brought them inside. “Morning.”

Noah put them down and tickled them. “Are you ready to help your uncle pound nails today?”

They both giggled and screamed out, “Yes!”

My mother walked inside. “First, they have to help Grammy in the garden.”

“No, first they have to deal with me!” Noah tickled them some more.

They both squealed and attacked Noah.

My mother grinned. “If you want pancakes, you’ll do it.” She frowned when the boys kept playing with Noah, and then she stared at me. “You took them to McDonald’s today, didn’t you?”

I had learned a long time ago that it was pointless to lie to my mother. “No comment.”

She shook her head. “Damon, it’s horrible for them. And for you.”

I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture, so I turned to Noah. “Are you sure you want them helping you today? Because I know you need to get things done.”

My brother nodded and moved into the kitchen, opening the fridge and taking out his caffeinated beverage. “Of course. I need their help.”

My mother snatched the drink out of Noah’s hands. “And you shouldn’t be drinking this. It’s horrible for you. What would your wife say?”

Noah chugged out a laugh. “Woman, I’m twenty-nine years old.” He took the drink back and hugged her tightly. “I’ll drink what I want.”

I marveled at the way Noah always dealt with my mother.

She let herself be hugged and rolled her eyes. “The disrespect.”

My father opened the door. “Hello.”

“Grandpa!” My boys ran to him.

He put his hands out to them, laughing. “Little boys to eat!”

The boys giggled and pushed back his hands, which were still covered in his work gloves.

I was concerned. “Dad. You’re not supposed to do this much work. It hasn’t been that long since the heart attack.”

He waved a dismissive hand through the air. “I’m fine. It’s good for me. Don’t you know bodies in motion stay in motion, and bodies at rest stay at rest?”

My father was the king of sayings like that. I rolled my eyes.

“Damon’s right,” my mother said, glaring at him. “You take a break.”

My father took off his work gloves and put them on the table next to the door. “You got it, boss.” He strolled into the family room and picked up the newspaper.

My parents were the only people I knew who still got a newspaper.

I moved toward the kitchen. “Are you guys sure that you can handle these two today? I’m going to be later than normal.” A million years’ worth of paperwork on my desk had me reeling. “It seems like everyone needs vacation right now.”

Noah scoffed. “Of course we got these two. Come on, boys, let me show you where the hammers are.”

I was nervous about that. “I don’t want to go to the hospital today, bro.”

“They’re fine.” He held open the door, and the boys rushed on through it. “I’ll just take them to the hospital all by myself.”

I grunted, feeling a pang of anger, and then laughed. “I mean it. No hospital today.”

Noah pumped his eyebrows. “Bro, you’re just no fun anymore.”

He left, and I turned back to my mother. She was getting meat out of the freezer and putting it in the sink to soak and thaw. She’d always made dinner, as far back as I could remember.

“You sure you’re good, Mom?” She would be doing a lot of the work with the boys, too.

She nodded. “You bet. Spaghetti tonight. Don’t you worry; the boys will be fine. I’ll drive up and check on them in a little bit. Then I’ll bring them back and have them do my weeds before lunch.” She flashed me a smile.

I relaxed and moved around the kitchen counter to put my arms around my mom. “Thank you. I mean it.” I kissed the side of her head.

Her hand lightly touched my arm. “Of course.” I moved to leave, but she said, “You should take a vacation.”

I spun back as I got to the doorway. “Right. Where would I go?” The thought of a vacation was daunting. I had so much work to do. Plus, just trying to juggle the boys was insane.

She shrugged. “To the cabin. At the ridge.”

My family owned the cabin at the ridge. It was part of the more exclusive resort.

I shrugged. “Can’t pay for that.” It was complete with a chef and guides and horses.

She smirked. “You are a partner in that. Partners get a free vacation.”

“Yes.” My father snorted from the other room. “Take me to the ridge, too.”

I grinned at him. “You want to get out of here, old man?”

My father leaned back on the La-Z-Boy with the newspaper open. “No, but I would like McDonald’s.” He flashed a grin, making me laugh.

My mother grimaced and shook her head. “No, Damon, do not bring your father McDonald’s.”

A little past one, Hazel Friendly walked into my office. She was the dispatch operator who had retired two weeks ago. The problem was, we hadn’t been able to find a replacement. “Boss—or ex-boss—I have an interview for you.”

I was buried under a pile of paperwork and was frustrated as all get-out. “Can someone else do this interview?” I knew it had to do with dispatch, but I didn’t have time to do it. “In fact, I trust you. You do the interview.”

She sighed. “I have. We haven’t had a good candidate except the one who’s in here. I’m going to have her do the second interview with you right now. If you’re okay with that.”

I looked up at her. “I guess you’re not taking no for an answer?”

Her grin widened. “Let’s get this position filled. This gal can start tomorrow. And I could train her within a week or two. Then I could retire.”

I relented. “Fine.”

She tugged the door a little bit closed behind her. “I probably should tell you she says she knows you.”

My interest was piqued. Not that I didn’t know almost everyone in this town, but I wondered who was applying for the position. “Who is it?”

Hazel pumped her eyebrows. “Isla Hamilton. She said she knew you while you were growing up.”

I froze, wondering how the woman I’d been dreaming about last night had suddenly gotten her name on Hazel’s lips. “What?”

There was a small knock at the door. Hazel opened it, and then she appeared. Isla.

“I was supposed to follow you, right?” she asked Hazel.

Hazel nodded and then turned to me. “Police Chief Armstrong, I think you know Isla Hamilton.”

Usually, I was cool under pressure. Calm. Rational. But I couldn’t help but stare at her and notice all the ways she differed from how she used to be.

She was thinner. Her hair had grown long, and it was tucked back in a halfway braid down her head. She had blonde wisps coming out around her face. She’d chosen a simple outfit: a white dress shirt with black pants and heels.

She smiled and said, “Damon. Hey.”

It felt like she’d never left.