“YOU COULD’VE TOLD me this was about finding Sherlock a new home.” Dan didn’t hide his irritation and attempted a casual wave to Cara and Earl outside Earl’s cottage. Brooke didn’t trust him with something minor.
“I wasn’t sure Earl would even talk to me.” Brooke looked up and down both sides of the street. The corner of her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. “He’s turned down all Sophie’s foster families, even though he’s never met them.”
“Sounds like Earl. He likes things his own way.” The same as Dan. And Dan wanted Brooke’s trust. Now. His veins sang with tension from wanting it.
“That’s fine, but Earl’s health is declining.” Brooke blanched.
He could’ve told her Bayview and State Streets—the ones she always asked about—were three miles west, past four one-way streets and six stop lights. Instead he turned in the opposite direction. As for Earl, he was at risk for a fall—one that he might not recover from. “What happens if you can’t find a family that meets Earl’s requirements?”
“That isn’t an option.”
He appreciated the resolve in Brooke’s tone. Liked her determination. But sometimes that wasn’t enough. He’d been determined Valerie wouldn’t ever disrupt Ben’s life. But Valerie already had, and his own resolve hadn’t been enough to stop her. “There has to be a compromise.”
“You heard Earl.” Brooke’s gaze darted around the street like a fly stuck in a car.
Had she always walked like that? Her extreme diligence would exhaust her by the end of the first block. He should’ve noticed. He was trained to notice. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so caught up in his own issues. Sherlock slowed to sniff the neighbor’s tree.
“Earl loves Sherlock more than anything. He’ll do whatever he has to to make sure Sherlock is taken care of.”
The same way Dan loved his son. The same way Dan would do anything to protect Ben. And Brooke. Had he lost his heart to her? Dan zipped up his coat, fastening his heart where it belonged. “What’s the next step?”
“I’m going to revisit Sophie’s list of foster families and reach out to some of my connections.” Brooke shortened Sherlock’s leash, guiding the dog closer to her side and allowing a family with a stroller to pass by.
The landscape shifted. Businesses and offices increased, mingling among the apartments and lofts, replacing the houses. A pair of joggers waved and sprinted past. A bike messenger swerved between cars. The city bus squealed to a stop, spurting out business suits and college students onto the sidewalk. A horn blasted.
The last had Brooke pulling up stiffly, her features strained. She edged closer to him, but not close enough.
Dan closed the distance. Certain he could protect her and his heart. “Let me know if I can help.” Let me know if I can help you.
“You could ask around work if there’s anyone who’d want to adopt a senior golden retriever.” She avoided his attempts to turn the conversation into a personal one. And yet her arm brushed against his.
He could also wrap his arm around her waist, tuck her into his side and promise to take care of her. Most likely, she’d ignore that, too. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready. Dan left his hand at his side, brushing his knuckles across her arm. “That I can do.”
“I promised Earl.” There was pain in her voice as if promises were important to her. “I can’t let him down.”
Dan had promised to take care of Ben. He couldn’t let his son down, either. He couldn’t get distracted. Not by Brooke. Not by his messy feelings. “We can get dinner at Charlotte’s Cheddar Chariot in the food-truck park to take home.”
Brooke chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m not sure Sherlock has that many blocks in him.”
Sherlock ambled along, tail up, tongue securely inside his mouth, his head up to greet every passerby. Dan wasn’t well versed in dog, but Sherlock hardly appeared fatigued or exhausted. Brooke, on the other hand...
“I know a shortcut.” Dan kept his voice mild and disinterested. Ben’s words about a car accident came back to him. The farther they walked into the busier district, the closer Brooke stayed to Dan.
She continued, her words strained, “That might be too many people for Sherlock.”
Or perhaps for Brooke. “It’s worth it for the bacon mac and cheese at Charlotte’s Cheddar Chariot. I blame Ava for introducing me to Charlotte and her food truck.”
“That does sound tempting.”
That was all she allowed. But she avoided looking at Dan. He said, “We could head over to the food-truck park after we take Sherlock home.”
“Are you sure bacon mac and cheese is in your new diet?” Brooke asked.
“It’s not the food that concerns Ava,” Dan said. At Brooke’s arched eyebrow, he added, “Okay. It’s partially the food. But mostly it’s the job.”
“But she’s a paramedic, too.” Brooke turned a corner rather than crossing one of the busier intersections and quickened her steps.
“Was, and soon she’ll be a physician’s assistant.” Dan matched her pace. “The average tenure of an EMT is five years.”
“How long have you been a paramedic?” Brooke asked.
“Eleven years in February.” Dan rolled his shoulders. The aches were natural and expected.
“Ava thinks you should change careers, too?”
“Ava thinks I have no work-life balance.” But he balanced things fine. Maybe not perfectly. Or all the time. But his life worked.
His supervisor had once again urged Dan to turn in his résumé this morning as Dan clocked out. But the supervisor position took Dan out of fieldwork, placed him behind a desk and in a training room. He’d lose contact with patients and families. Patients like Earl. Despite the occasional rude and disrespectful patient and their family members, Dan still believed what he did mattered. His supervisor would argue that training new recruits and educating the community on illness and injury prevention and emergency skills mattered, too. But he was happy. Maybe not happy, but content. He added, “Ava worries the stress is taking a toll.”
Sherlock sniffed a fence. Brooke stopped and eyed Dan.
He was happy with Brooke. On a walk. At his house. His heart thumped into his throat. He zipped his coat up to his chin. This wasn’t love. Love wasn’t sneaky and sly, creeping up where it didn’t belong. Where it wasn’t invited.
“Is it?” she asked.
No, it wasn’t love. His voice scratched against his own ears. “What?”
“Is the stress of your job taking a toll?”
The stress of feelings would do him in first. “This is the only job I’ve ever had. It’s all I know. What I love.” And now there’s you. Dan shut his mouth. How had he gotten here? How did he get out? “I’m not sure what else to do.”
A pop-up garden extended between two buildings, flowing onto the sidewalk. Dan stepped between the sidewalk planters. An empty bench waited, tucked against the building. He turned on the faucet and filled the cement water bowl for Sherlock. Then sat next to the Brooke on the bench, noticed the tall planters that obscured the view of the street.
Brooke stroked her hand over Sherlock’s back. The motion routine as if she’d stepped into a memory and out of Dan’s reach. “You should consider your options before something happens and you’re forced to change.”
Like Hank with his triple-bypass surgery. Like Brooke after her husband passed away. He wanted her back with him. But that wasn’t fair. Maybe if he understood. Maybe then he’d know he couldn’t love her. “Can I ask how your husband died?”
“A car accident.” Her fingers disappeared in Sherlock’s golden fur. Her words were too careful, her voice too pensive. “Here in the city.”
Dan’s pulse slowed. Valerie had forced a different kind of change in Dan’s world. But he hadn’t lost his home. Or his life with Ben and his family. “You moved up north after that?”
She sat back, her attention focused on Sherlock. “That’s not exactly right.”
Dan stilled. Every muscle tensed. He’d take whatever she told him. Give her whatever she needed.
Finally, she exhaled. The leash unwound along with her words. “It wasn’t a car accident as in two cars colliding. It was one vehicle colliding with us. Waiting on the sidewalk for the light to change.”
Dan’s entire body stuttered as if the ground had cracked open. His own thoughts misfired, tripping up his composure. He scrubbed his hands over his face and searched the garden for a reset button. “You weren’t in a car?”
The stillness around Brooke wasn’t calm or peaceful. Dan would bet everything he owned her pupils were dilated, her mouth dry, her skin cool and damp. The fight-or-flight response gripped Brooke.
He wanted to fight, too. Fight for her.
Only the threat wasn’t external. It was her memories that locked her in place.
Her pain that undid him.
She set her hand on her stomach and inhaled. Dan matched his breathing to hers. Five rounds.
It wasn’t nearly enough. Not for him. Definitely not for her. Her breaths were too shallow. Her skin too pale. He shifted, started to tell her that she was safe. Wanted her to know he’d keep her safe.
But her memories spilled into the space between them.
“Five years ago, Phillip and I were in the city celebrating our anniversary at The Modern Rose. We talked about starting a family. Phillip gave me a crystal angel ornament that was the final piece of a set I collected.” She curled her fingers around Sherlock’s leash as if it was an anchor and stared at her lap. A breathless weariness in her voice.
Dan wanted to breathe for her. Take the hurt. Take the raw anguish. Hold her until she wasn’t alone.
“I wanted to window-shop. Such a stupid, silly thing,” she whispered.
Nothing was stupid or silly about her. She had to know that.
“We took our time walking to the parking lot. I stopped to peer into a shop window at the street corner. A new van ran a red light and jumped the curb. Phillip died instantly. I was injured and regained consciousness two days later in intensive care.” She looked at Dan. Her cheeks dry, her pupils dilated, her gaze haunted. “It made me think it was the universe’s way of telling me I shouldn’t have been brave enough to believe in love.”
A scream curdled inside Dan. A curse for Fate.
“After the funeral and recovery, I sold everything and relocated to the mountains.” She wilted against the bench.
Alone. That was the word she left unspoken. No one like her deserved to suffer like that. Especially not alone. Dan covered her hands, rubbed her cold fingers between his. He could warm her, but the chill inside him might well be permanent. How could she love after that? How could he not love her?
Her strength. Her kindness. Her gentle way with Ben. She humbled him. His words came from his soul, but it’d never be enough. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”
She blinked and shuddered as if shaking off the past. “You’re the first person I’ve told the full story to aside from my therapist.”
He didn’t deserve her love. Better she kept it for her late husband. How could he possibly apologize enough?
“I know it’s just a street corner.” Her hands twisted together beneath his. “It’s silly that I can’t go there.”
Her tremors vibrated through him, shook into his core. He knew that restaurant. Knew that area. The corner of Bayview and State. That explained her reticence. Nothing explained his selfish insensitivity. He forced her to walk alone around the city. While he had a perfectly usable dog-friendly backyard. Had he ever been a bigger jerk?
She deserved so much better. She deserved so much more. “I know routes through the city a lifelong local doesn’t.”
“Am I even more silly for being grateful for that?” Her hands stayed twined with his.
“There are a bunch of places in town that still get to me.” He tightened his grip, sealing their hands together. “It’s been years and yet some accident scenes are burned into me.”
“What do you do?”
“Don’t blink and hold my breath as I pass by,” he said. “Take a different route if I can.”
“And if you can’t?” Her voice lowered.
“I face it.” He held her gaze, searched for that glimmer of hope, however faint, still inside her. He never wanted her to lose that. “Replace the darkness with the light.”
“You counter the bad with something good.” The barest hint of a smile whispered across her mouth.
It was enough. For now. “Should we take Sherlock back and head home?”
Brooke nodded.
Dan held her hand in his and headed back to Earl’s. He held on to Brooke for the drive to his house and during the short walk to the rental apartment. Rex and Luna surrounded her at the front door. He said, “The dogs can have full run of the backyard.”
“That’s not—”
He interrupted her. “It’s not enough, but it’s a start.”
“Thanks.” Brooke’s smile flashed into her eyes, flowed across her entire face and filled Dan.
“In an effort to find that work-life balance, I’m going to turn on the fire pit, sit outside and enjoy the evening.” Dan rubbed his chest. His heart shouldn’t be racing. Or his nerves firing. “You’re welcome to join me.”
“I’d like that,” Brooke said. “Let me get a sweatshirt.”
Dan exhaled as if he’d been holding his breath, willing her to say yes. The truth was something stronger. Something deeper. He didn’t want to be alone. Even more, he didn’t want Brooke to be alone.
He called Luna with him and turned back. “Don’t forget to leave the door open for Rex.”
Tomorrow he’d bury his feelings.
Tomorrow he’d remind himself of the reasons content was enough.
Tonight he’d replace the loneliness he so often ignored with something good—someone good.