Protecting What’s Mine: A Small Town Love Story

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Protecting What’s Mine: A Small Town Love Story Page 36

by Score, Lucy


  He refused to think. Refused to acknowledge the rage that boiled hotter beneath his gear than the flames that were smothering him.

  “Chief Reed, exiting the structure with third victim,” he growled into the radio.

  The angle of the ladder was too steep for a two-man team to take her. He hefted her up and over his shoulder and swung onto Betsy’s ladder.

  “Linc, hurry!” he could hear Mackenzie shouting from the ground.

  Carefully, he descended, as the world above him wavered in the flames. The ceiling came down halfway between the second and first floor. By the time his feet were on the ground, part of the roof had caved in over the bedroom.

  He handed the sister over to a team of EMTs and opened his arms.

  Mack fell into them and buried her face in his chest.

  “Mackenzie. Baby.” He shoved his mask off, stroked her face. “Open your eyes.”

  When she did, when he saw that bottle green and the curve of her lips, his heart started again.

  “You came,” she whispered.

  “You’re damn right I did. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”

  “You’re here now.” A coughing fit wracked her body.

  Khalil, the paramedic, knelt down. “We’ve got your blonde on oxygen,” he said. “Now let’s take a look at your brunette.”

  “I’m fine,” Mack insisted. “Is my sister alive?”

  “No breath. No beat,” Khalil said.

  Mack dropped to her knees next to the spine board they’d placed Wendy on and waved away the EMT. She listened for breath.

  Linc shrugged out of his coat and draped it over her shoulders, then stepped back and watched her begin chest compressions on the woman who tried to end her life.

  “You all right, Chief Idiot Who Can’t Follow Protocol?” Ty demanded, approaching.

  Linc ran two shaking hands through his hair.

  “I may never be all right again for as long as I live,” he predicted, swiping an arm under his nose.

  Ty pulled him in for a hard, one-armed hug. “Scared the shit out of us when you fell through the window on that gunshot.”

  Linc patted down his body. Nothing felt holey. “She must have hit the wall or the window frame,” he guessed. “You got gloves?”

  “I can get a pair.”

  “I’ve got a weapon in my pants,” Linc said.

  “I’m not falling for that one again,” Ty said.

  The laugh felt good and loosened some of the fear that still had his heart in a death grip.

  Once Ty fished the gun out of Linc’s pants and into an evidence envelope, Linc went for his first girl.

  Sunshine watched him from a blanket where one of his firefighters and an EMT were keeping her company. Her tail thumped, the mask over her nose fogged as his sweet girl breathed.

  He lay down on the cold ground next to her. “Hey, pretty girl.”

  Her tail thumped a little harder, and she wriggled closer to him. Linc stroked his hand from head to tail. She nudged him

  There was a commotion behind him.

  Everyone seemed to be talking at once.

  “Got a pulse!” Mackenzie said. She’d shrugged out of his coat, out of the blanket someone had given her.

  “Got blood,” Khalil yelled, but he wasn’t looking at Wendy.

  People were converging around them, but not before Linc spotted the red stain spreading on the white of Mackenzie’s tank.

  Then he was running again.

  “What is everyone’s problem?” she demanded as a paramedic tried to shove her down on a stretcher. “Get off of me!”

  Linc slid to a stop at her side. “Mackenzie, why the hell are you bleeding?”

  She pulled up her tank and looked down at the small hole in her abdomen. “Oh, shit.”

  “Jesus, Dreamy, you got shot.”

  “Huh,” she said, looking bewildered. “Sunshine lunged at her when you broke the window. I tried to get in the way. Guess it worked.”

  Her hair was a snarled mess. Her face streaked with soot and dirt, and she was fighting with the EMT who was trying to cut her tank open. She slapped her hands away. “You’re not showing my boobs to my coworkers! Not when I have cornbread to make in four hours for Thanksgiving! Oh, shit! Linc, can you go to the store? All the ingredients were in there.” She pointed toward the smoking inferno.

  Her home was burning to the ground. Firefighters had hacked through the garden gate with hatchets to get to the backyard. Her sister had tried to murder them both. And she was worrying about Thanksgiving.

  “Dreamy?” Linc cupped her face in his hands. He could feel the steam of sweat evaporating from his head and neck rising into the ether.

  “Yeah?” She winced as someone put pressure on the fucking bullet hole her sister had put in her.

  He was going to marry this woman. And he was going to tell their kids every Thanksgiving just how lucky they were to have a hero for a mom. He needed to seal the deal now. Not another second wasted on separate lives or separate houses.

  “Don’t you dare do it, Lincoln Reed,” Mackenzie snapped, pointing a finger in his face.

  “Do what?”

  “You have that proposal look on your face. If you propose to me right now with no ring while this very insistent lady is trying to flash my tits to all the first responders of Benevolence, I will say no, and I will mean it.”

  “You riding with us, chief?” Khalil asked as they started to wheel Mack toward the smashed gate and one of the waiting ambulances.

  “You’re damn right I am.”

  “You guys are overreacting. It’s a freaking flesh wound. Jeez, I could patch myself up,” she complained.

  “You better get yourself a ring,” Brody said, slapping a hand on Linc’s shoulder.

  Linc pulled him in for a hard hug. “Thanks for having my back, bro. You’ll take Sunshine?”

  “Already called the wife. She’s making your baby girl a steak as we speak.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving!”

  Linc climbed into the back of the ambulance and leaned over Mackenzie. They’d slipped an oxygen mask over her face and given her something for the pain. She’d hate that, he thought with a grin.

  “Dreamy, if you ever again have a single doubt about what kind of person you are, I’m slapping you upside the head and reminding you that you saved the life of the woman who tried to kill you.”

  “All in a day’s work,” Mack sighed sleepily.

  “You’re my hero, Dreamy.”

  “You’re mine, Hotshot.”

  60

  The hospital was a zoo. It felt like half the damn town, including Mack’s foster parents and their daughter, showed up just to make sure she was okay. By the time they were all reassured that Mack was alive and she was finally discharged, it was nine in the morning, and she and Linc were exhausted and starving.

  To Mack, it felt like a lot of fuss for a bullet wound that hadn’t hit anything vital.

  Skyler and Zane had dropped off Linc’s truck at the hospital and thoughtfully included a change of clothes for them both. They changed into their matching BFD sweats, and then Linc carted Mack out of the hospital like she was precious cargo.

  She yawned mightily from the passenger seat. “This is not the Thanksgiving I imagined,” she sighed.

  “Dreamy, any day with you is a gift,” he said, interlacing his fingers with hers. “A bullet-riddled, arson-fueled gift during which all of my coworkers caught a glimpse of my girlfriend’s perfect breasts.”

  “Yay them,” she said sarcastically.

  “Old time’s sake?” he asked, pointing ahead of them through the windshield.

  “Hell. Yes.”

  They stopped at the diner, sat at “their” table, and sat on the same side of the booth.

  The server, the same woman they had their first time there, paused mid-special retelling to take them in. The bruises, some fresh and some fading, on both their faces. The layers of grime. Linc h
ad some of Mack’s dried blood on his neck and chin. The server grunted. “Holidays sure are hard on some people.”

  Mack snorted tea through her nose, and Linc put his head down on the table and laughed until he couldn’t breathe.

  When they got home—to the residence that hadn’t burned to the ground—they stripped down and fell into Linc’s bed. Exhausted both physically and mentally. She woke, hours later, dizzy and disoriented but warm and safe anchored by Linc’s arm. Her side hurt like a few dozen hornets had taken a shot at her, but other than that, Mack felt remarkably chipper.

  He stirred against her and buried his face in her hair. “We smell,” he sighed but made no attempt to release her.

  “Shower?” she suggested.

  “Shower.”

  They showered carefully, gently, and then spent a very long time staring out of Linc’s gym window at the charred carcass of the cottage Mack had called home for the last three months, the mangled remains of the fence.

  “Guess I’m moving in,” she mused over her green tea.

  “Damn right you are,” he said.

  “Poor Betsy.”

  “She’d be proud to give her life this way,” he said. Though Mack thought his eyes looked a little glassy as he stared out at the wrecked truck. Someone had thoughtfully pushed it back into his yard. Betsy’s front end was crunched in, her pristine paint scraped. Her fenders dented. It would take another five years for him to restore her again, Mack bet.

  “You know, I came here to start a calmer life,” she said.

  “You came here for a new adventure,” he corrected her. “And you found me.”

  “Maybe I’ll learn to make jelly.”

  “I’ll take up competitive corn hole,” he decided.

  She glanced out at the ruins again. “I just keep thinking about all those doilies that went up in flames.”

  Linc snorted. “Maybe that can be your new hobby. Flame retardant doilies.”

  She put her mug down and ran her hands up his chest. “Or—and I’m just throwing this out here—we could just have a lot of sex all the time.”

  “Uh-uh, Dreamy. No sex until you’ve had your wound care follow-up. Doctor’s orders.”

  “You asked Dr. Ling that?” Mack was horrified.

  “Yep. And double-checked with Russell. He confirmed. I had a feeling you’d try to seduce me.”

  There was a knock at the door, and she groaned. “I guess we can’t just hole up here for the rest of the weekend. Can we?”

  “Baby, you got shot in a house fire saving my dog from your whack-job sister. We’re lucky they left us alone this long.”

  “I feel bad that we ruined everyone’s holiday,” she said. “I had a really good cornbread recipe, too. It involved beer and cheese.”

  “I’m sure they’re all fine. They probably got pizza or takeout, and everyone is napping in front of someone’s TV. I heard my sister talking to your foster parents about oven space in the hospital waiting room.”

  They found one Sheriff Ty Adler in a fresh uniform on Linc’s doorstep. His cruiser was parked up against the front of the building.

  “Soph sent these for you,” he said, holding out a bag with a change of clothes. Comfortable leggings, a soft sweater, an actual bra, and a tube of red, red lipstick.

  “Thanks,” Mack said, clutching the bag to her chest in gratitude. “Are you here to catch us up?”

  “I can do that on the way.”

  “On the way where?” Linc asked.

  “We’ve got some business to take care of is all,” Ty explained vaguely.

  “She can give her statement to you tomorrow,” Linc growled.

  “It’s fine.” Mack sighed. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  “I’ll drive y’all,” Ty volunteered.

  They changed first and then let the sheriff whisk them off. Linc, playing the overprotective hero, refused to leave Mack’s side and insisted they both ride in the back seat.

  “So quick recap,” Ty said, glancing their way in the rearview mirror. “Wendy is alive thanks to Doc O’Neil here. She suffered some smoke inhalation and burns. But we got her prints on the gas cans and video footage from your own security system, before it melted, that shows her rolling up into your garage. She stole the extra garage door opener out of the kitchen drawer when she broke into your house a week ago. She’s being belligerent, and I’m told she’ll be meeting with a staff psychiatrist for an evaluation before her ass is carted off to jail for a very, very, very long time.”

  “Are you sure he’s not arresting us for something,” Mack whispered, leaning into his side.

  “You never know with Benevolence. But I think we can take him if he tries anything funny.” He kissed her on the head and snuggled her closer.

  “This isn’t the police department, Sheriff Numb Nuts,” Linc pointed out. The cruiser rolled up in front of the fire station. Ty gave the sirens a chirp, and the middle garage door rolled up.

  “Oh. My. God,” Mack said, sitting up straighter.

  “Looks like you’re getting a Thanksgiving after all,” Linc observed.

  “I swear to God, if someone so much as pops a bottle of champagne, I am out,” she whispered to him as they slid out of the back seat.

  They were all there. Dottie, Win, and Violet. Linc’s sisters and their families. The firefighters and EMS crews and their families. Harper and Luke. Gloria and Aldo. Sophie and all of the kids. So many kids. Mrs. Moretta and her football boyfriend were chatting it up with Gloria’s mother and Claire and Charlie Garrison. Russell and Denise were there with Skyler. Freida and her husband. Tuesday and her boyfriend. Joni was there, too, with half of the Ladies’ Night ladies.

  Sunshine, looking spiffy in a turkey and pumpkin neckerchief, sprinted over to them. Someone had given her a bath.

  “Hey, sweet girl! You were so brave,” Mack said, burying her face in the dog’s fur.

  The station smelled like home cooking and happiness.

  Someone had wheeled a big screen into the garage, and a football game was on.

  “Imagine that. We finally used that extension cord,” Linc said.

  Tables were set up and covered with tarps. Stacks of paper plates and cups and utensils sat ready to be put into service.

  The Nguyens practically tackled her and didn’t back off until Mack winced when a hug got too tight. She was passed around, more carefully, until someone yelled, “Time to eat!”

  Ellen and her father-in-law wheeled in a rolling mechanic’s rack with trays of turkey meat, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and all the sides. The gravy boat was a repurposed oil drip pan. “Who’s ready for a little Thanksgiving?”

  “This is amazing. I don’t know what to say,” Mack said, finding Linc’s hand and holding on tight.

  He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them lightly. “We’re going to have to invite all these people to the wedding.”

  “We’re going to need a bigger barn,” she predicted.

  “Linc, Mom and Dad are FaceTiming,” Christa said, holding up her phone.

  “Go,” Mack said, nudging him toward his family.

  “Yoo-hoo, Dr. Mack!” Freida wiggled her fingers in Mack’s face and giggled.

  “We got you a little something. Since you’re sticking around,” Russell said with a wink. He looked dapper as always in a charcoal button-down. But his tie had cartoon turkeys on it. He gestured toward the tarp-covered mound behind him.

  With a flourish, Tuesday yanked the tarp away to reveal a new desk chair in sleek white leather.

  “You guys,” Mack said, pressing her fingers to her mouth.

  “Glad you decided to stay. We’re going to do good work here,” Russell predicted.

  “Yes, we are.”

  She sat in her new chair and ate a full Thanksgiving meal, slipping Sunshine bits of turkey under the table. She caught up on all the news with the Nguyens and made plans for a visit in the spring.

  Linc’s hand stayed on her knee under the table.


  “This is the best Thanksgiving ever.”

  “You got shot, and your house burned down,” he reminded her.

  “Well, you’ve met my sister. The bar wasn’t set very high.”

  “Dreamy, I promise you, there are more good times ahead. More love. More laughs. More of all of this. And way fewer fires and GSWs.”

  She believed him. She trusted him to deliver on that promise.

  “You showed up for me when I needed you. I’ll never take that for granted.”

  “And I’ll always be there for you, Dreamy.”

  Epilogue

  It was one of those crisp, cold nights that made sure everyone knew it was winter. The Christmas lights seemed to sparkle extra bright in the cold, reflecting off the two inches of snow Benevolence had gotten earlier that day. Not enough to snarl traffic or ruin holiday travel plans. But just enough for a real, white Christmas.

  “Okay, people. It’s on to the next house,” Mack said through the bullhorn she’d borrowed from Linc. The Christmas Light Walking Tour was the first official event of the Benevolence Wellness Club.

  She hadn’t been sure what kind of a turnout to expect and had been overjoyed when seventy-five people, bundled up in winter gear, showed up at the fire station.

  “This is pretty great, Dreamy,” Linc said, holding her hand as they led the way down the sidewalk toward the glowing spectacle on the next block.

  Everything had been pretty great since Thanksgiving.

  Bruises healed. Bullet wounds, too. Though maybe a bit more slowly. Mack sat behind her desk in her office on her new desk chair. And every evening, she met Linc at home. Moving in together had been a necessity, but one they both adapted to quickly. Sunshine—who was currently chewing on her reindeer antlers—was happy to finally come from a two-parent household.

  Wellness Club members started to ooh and aah the closer they got to the Garrisons.

  “Damn,” Mack said. “You did good, Hotshot. It was nice of you to help Luke.”

  Linc grinned. “Yeah. I did it to learn all his secrets. Next year, I’m gonna kick his ass in decorating. He won’t know what hit him.”

 

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