A Treasure for the Trooper

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A Treasure for the Trooper Page 2

by Liz Isaacson


  Dawn was six years younger than him…. “But she’s beautiful,” he said to himself again. “What would it hurt to try?”

  But he knew what it would hurt. His heart. His daughter. And probably a whole lot of other things McDermott didn’t even know about yet. But he was tired of sleeping alone. He wasn’t really alone, as he had Taya and Nana Reba, as well as his parents who still lived in town. But he didn’t confide in them the way he had Amelia.

  He wanted a best friend, a lover, a soul mate to help him raise his daughter. He sighed as he pulled into Nana Reba’s driveway and saw the lamplight in the windows.

  “Thank you for bringing me home safe tonight,” he whispered to the Lord, the same way he did every night when he made it back to his daughter alive. After all, he knew that sometimes cops didn’t come home safe at night.

  Amelia hadn’t. And he couldn’t bear the thought of Taya being an orphan. So he prayed each morning for safety, and expressed his gratitude each evening he got to come home and hug his daughter tight.

  “Go on and get your boots.” McDermott glanced at Taya, who sat at the bar like a princess waiting to be served. “Nana’s almost done with the eggs. Then we’ll eat and go.”

  “Can I ride Cinnamon today?”

  “You’ll have to ask Walker.” He turned as the toast popped up. “Now go on. We’re already runnin’ late.” He buttered toast as Nana Reba scooped eggs onto plates. He poured juice, enjoying the warmth in the house, the hustle and bustle of family life on a weekend morning, and feeling a measure of peace that had been elusive the past few weeks.

  “It’s cold today,” Nana Reba said in her creaky old voice as she opened the sliding glass door to let in the dogs. Thelma and Louise, golden retriever sisters, nearly trampled each other as they came in. Nana Reba closed the door and laughed. “You two. You’re menaces. Go on now. Go on! I’ll get your eggs.”

  Thelma and Louise were McDermott’s dogs, but Nana Reba had taken quite the liking to them. She’d made enough eggs for them to each have a bowl, and she made them sit and wait while she set their food on their mats. “All right,” she finally said, and the dogs attacked the food, nearly knocking Nana Reba down in the process.

  McDermott couldn’t help smiling. Just because life wasn’t exactly the way he wanted it, or the way he’d imagined it when he’d married Amelia and they’d had Taya, didn’t mean it wasn’t still wonderful.

  Taya came back into the kitchen, her white-blonde hair wisping around her face. After Amelia’s death, doing Taya’s hair had been one of McDermott’s greatest challenges. He often thought of his late wife while he brushed and braided, as it was something Amelia always did, no exceptions.

  “Let’s pray,” he said. “The eggs are gettin’ cold. You say it, baby.”

  As his angel daughter’s voice blessed the food and asked for them to be safe while they went horseback riding, McDermott’s heart melted. He was trying to be a good father, but he worked a lot. Taya would start first grade in the fall, and some of his guilt would be alleviated then. No matter what he did, though, he knew he couldn’t be both a mom and a dad.

  “Amen,” she said, and McDermott echoed her before rounding the island and sitting on a stool that felt like it wouldn’t hold his weight.

  “What are you doin’ today, Nana?” he asked.

  “Going up to the strawberry fields.”

  McDermott nodded. “Does Mom need any more help?”

  “She can always use more help in the spring.” Nana took a drink of her orange juice. “But don’t worry about coming. You guys go do your riding and then relax. It’s supposed to warm up by this afternoon.”

  “Maybe the pool will be open,” Taya said.

  “Hon, the pool doesn’t open until Memorial Day,” McDermott said. He’d told her that at least half a dozen times. “One more week, baby.”

  One more week, and school would be out too. One more week, and summer would be upon them. One more week. McDermott had endured a lot of things by telling himself to get through one more week.

  “You can set the sprinkler under the trampoline,” Nana said. “Or come up to the fields. I’m sure your grandma would love to see you.”

  McDermott stuffed a huge bite of toast into his mouth as a sliver of guilt gutted him. He lived with his maternal grandmother, so she got to see Taya all the time. She picked Taya up after kindergarten, fed her lunch, and took care of her all afternoon. Sure, she sometimes took her over to McDermott’s parent’s house, but they spent so much time working the eighty acres of strawberry fields they owned, that he usually made an effort to take Taya over on the weekends. He simply hadn’t felt like it for a few weeks, because his mother always asked him when he was going to start dating again.

  Dawn’s face flashed before his eyes, and he pushed away his plate of cold eggs. He wanted to ask her out, but she hadn’t given him her number. All he could do was hope she contacted him. Or he could run over to the office tonight, though he wasn’t on duty today.

  Or you could stop by her house to see if she’s all right….

  “You’re not going to finish those?” Nana Reba’s voice cut through his thoughts, and a hint of embarrassment crept through him. She couldn’t see his thoughts, but sometimes it felt like she could.

  “No, I’m full,” he said, standing. “I’ll get our jackets, Tay. Then it’s time to go.”

  Properly fed and clothed, he whipped Taya’s hair into a ponytail and they headed out in his cruiser for the horse farm up the hill from town. He’d known the previous owners, before Landon Edmunds had bought the place and turned it into a thriving ranch that produced rodeo horses.

  McDermott had grown up with horses, but he didn’t have the land or lifestyle to maintain them now. When Walker Thompson had moved to town eight years ago, the two men had become fast friends. And when Amelia had died, McDermott had turned to Walker—a widower with a child himself—for advice, comfort, and friendship.

  Taya loved running through the fields, riding horses, and playing with the assortment of dogs and children at the farm. When they showed up on Saturday mornings, McDermott felt like his soul had come home.

  His tires crunched over the gravel, easing to a stop outside the middle cabin where Walker now lived with his wife and their two kids. Both Tess and Walker sat on the front porch, their knees almost to their chins, holding hands.

  Taya flew from the backseat of the cruiser, Thelma and Louise not far behind. With many wagging tails—as Walker had two dogs of his own—the fun started. McDermott got out of the car a little slower, giving himself a stern talking-to not to mention Dawn Fuller.

  Tess had been trying to set McDermott up for most of the past three years. And sure enough, the first thing she said after standing to embrace him was, “How do you feel about a stylist?”

  He blinked at her. “I’m not sure what that is.”

  She giggled and swatted his bicep. “You do too. You know, a woman who cuts hair.”

  “Oh, uh….”

  “Leave him be,” Walker said, standing and putting one arm around McDermott’s shoulders in a manly hug. “Who wants to ride Cinnamon today?”

  “I do!” Taya squealed, dodged one of the retrievers and skipped toward Walker. He scooped her up, causing her to laugh, and McDermott’s heart expanded ten sizes.

  “I’ve got cookies inside,” Tess said, ducking through the doorway.

  “Triple chocolate chip,” Walker said, smiling. “They’re my favorite.”

  “Daddy says I can start learning how to cook,” Taya said.

  “Is that right?” Walker asked. “What are you going to make?”

  “I made toast last night,” Taya said. “There was this woman who was passed out, and—”

  “Taya,” McDermott said, his heart rate spiking.

  Her innocent blue eyes landed on his much darker ones. “Oh. I wasn’t supposed to tell about her, huh?”

  McDermott shook his head. “Not your business to tell.” He met Walker’s
eyes, and he knew he’d be telling the story about Dawn Fuller before he left the farm. But not in front of Taya. His six-year-old didn’t need to know about his crush on a woman who would barely look at him.

  ONE YEAR LATER

  Dawn looked down at her phone as she finished washing her hands in the church kitchen. It darkened before she could catch who had texted.

  She’d been cleaning the church pro bono for eleven months, something that soothed her soul and made her feel good about herself at least once a week.

  The past year had been hard. Good. But hard. She felt like she’d made huge strides in some areas—like cleaning up her lifestyle, recommitting herself to following God’s commandments, and putting in a good, honest day’s work.

  But in other areas, she felt like she had so far to go. She’d been working with Pastor Peters for months, and he’d said a few weeks ago that he thought she was done. But she still didn’t like herself much. She still didn’t include other people in her life—not even her family. And the loneliness seemed ever-present.

  But she didn’t want to hang out with her old friends. They had all the bad habits she’d worked so hard to eradicate. Making new friends had proven extremely difficult, as friends shared things with each other, and she didn’t want to tell anyone about her past mistakes.

  As far as she was concerned, they were between her, God, and Pastor Peters, and he’d said she was all right.

  Dawn felt all right about her year of spiritual progress. There were so many things still lacking, though.

  Her phone brightened again, this time flashing McDermott Boyd’s name. “Oh, come on,” she muttered as she dried her hands. He’d asked her out at least once a month for the past year. A whole year!

  She’d put him off every time. Though he was handsome, and kind, and employed, and about a dozen other things Dawn liked, she simply didn’t want to get involved with him. Number one, he’d grown up with her older brother. The stories Kyler could tell him about her made Dawn’s skin crawl. Number two, he had a six-year-old daughter. Dawn didn’t want a family—or a husband for that matter. And how arrogant of her to think she could just waltz into a child’s life and be her mother? Or that McDermott even wanted a serious relationship with her?

  Dawn didn’t want serious, that was for certain. She wasn’t good at short-term either, so she’d set a no-dating policy and stuck with it for twelve months.

  She picked up her phone, thinking of the third strike against McDermott: he’d been married before to a beautiful, wonderful woman that Dawn could never measure up to. Surely he wasn’t interested in her, so why did he keep asking her out?

  She tapped out, I can’t, to his invitation to the weekend’s concert in the park and sent the message. She never expanded on why she couldn’t. He never asked. He’d wait a few weeks and invite her to something else. The worst was when he caught her in the police department and asked her out right to her face, right on the spot.

  Her phone rang, and McDermott’s name and face came up. Her breath stuck in her lungs at his handsomeness, and that alone prompted her to answer the call. “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey, yourself.” His deep, delicious voice sent tremors through her. So maybe she’d fantasized about saying yes to him. But it would have to be in another lifetime, when she hadn’t accumulated so many secrets—and he hadn’t been married and started a family already.

  “So real quick,” he said. “I know you just said you couldn’t go to the concert this weekend.” He cleared his throat, and Dawn found it cute the he seemed nervous to talk to her. Her! If he had any idea what kind of person she really was….

  “I’m just wondering what it will take to get you to go out with me.”

  Dawn’s breath left her body. “Oh,” she managed to say.

  “You don’t seem to like going to dinner. Or concerts. Or picnics. I’m easy,” he said. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

  Getting some of her nerves under control, Dawn cocked her hip and asked, “Why do you keep asking?”

  “Well, I figured that part’s obvious.”

  “Not to me.”

  He coughed this time, the sound morphing into a choke. “Kyler says you’re not seein’ anyone,” he said, like that should explain it all. Dawn bristled that sure enough, McDermott had spoken to her older brother.

  “I’m not,” she confirmed. “And I don’t—”

  “I think you’re beautiful,” McDermott said over the top of her. “And I think we’d get along real nice. And even when I go out with other women, I just keep comin’ back to you.” He spoke in a slow, measured cadence, his voice flowing through her ears like silk.

  She sat heavily in the back row of the chapel, her legs unable to support her weight as you’re beautiful rang through her head. He really thought so?

  Just physically, she told herself. If he could see what was on the inside, he wouldn't think so.

  Still, she found herself saying, “All right, McDermott. I’ll go out with you.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” It was as if someone else had taken control of Dawn’s body. She couldn’t believe she’d just agreed to a date with dreamy McDermott Boyd. The very fact that she found him dreamy and desirable sent up big red flags in her mind.

  “So no to the concert,” he said. “Maybe you’d like to go up to the horse farm and go horseback riding. Or out to the strawberry fields and do the you-pick. Somewhere away from the crowds.”

  So he wanted to hide their date from the public. Of course he did. He was a huge public figure in Brush Creek. The standard for well-groomed, educated, clean men everywhere.

  “Or we can wait a couple of weeks and go to the balloon launch.”

  “That’s at the rec center.”

  “Yeah.” A skin of confusion hid in his voice. “So what?”

  “So a lot of people will see us there.”

  Several beats of silence came through the line before he said, “And you don’t want to be seen with me.”

  “No,” she said quickly. “Try the other way around.”

  “What? Dawn, I’d be happy to be seen with you.” He cleared his throat again.

  “Then why’d you suggest somewhere without a crowd?”

  “You seem adverse to them, that’s all,” he said. “I was trying to suggest somewhere you’d feel more comfortable.”

  Foolishness raced through Dawn. She should be used to the feeling by now, as she’d had to face a lot of foolish mistakes she’d made in her life while she worked through her past with Pastor Peters.

  Scratching came through the phone, and she heard the low murmur of McDermott’s voice as he said something to his daughter. Dawn’s fear spiked, and she almost hung up the phone. But Pastor Peters’s voice was there, inside her head, telling her to lift up her chin and do what was right. That God would never turn her away for trying to make things right.

  “Will Taya be coming on the date?” she asked.

  “Well…no.”

  “Maybe I should meet her.” Her mind spun. She absolutely didn’t want to meet McDermott’s child. She didn’t want children. Where had that idea come from?

  “You want to meet her-meet her? Like you’re my girlfriend or something?” The incredulity in his voice sounded like a gong in Dawn’s ears.

  She sighed, her worry now that she was about to vomit up a lot of things she’d hoped to keep to herself for a good long while. “I’m scared of you,” she blurted out. “You come with a previous wife and a kid and I’m—I’m not….”

  Seconds passed. Maybe a full minute. Dawn wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence she’d started, but it was clear McDermott was waiting for her to do just that.

  “I don’t think I’m ready for any of that.”

  “I’m not in a hurry,” he said.

  “That’s why I’ve turned you down for a year,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I just think you’re way out of my league, and—”

  His laughter silenced her and sent anoth
er vein of foolishness through her.

  “I am not out of your league, Dawn.”

  Oh, but he was. So far out of her league, he didn’t even know it.

  “I’ll go anywhere and do anything you want,” he added. “You name it, and I’ll be there. If you want to meet Taya, that’s fine too.”

  Dawn closed her eyes and prayed to know what the right thing was. “How about just dinner?” she asked. “Just you and me. There’s a great restaurant in Beaverton called Parker’s Lionhouse. We can…talk.” She shook her head at her stupidity. Of course they’d have to talk.

  “I know Parker’s. That sounds fine.”

  “Fine.”

  “Tonight? Tomorrow? You work evenings, don’t you?”

  “I can do the bank cleaning in the afternoon on Saturdays,” she said. “So Saturday would probably be best.”

  “Two days from now, Saturday? Or…?”

  She just wanted him to make a decision. “Sure. Two days from now Saturday.”

  “Great.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m so glad I called. I’ll pick you up around six?”

  “Six is fine.” Dawn’s exhaustion forced her eyes closed again.

  “See you then.” He hung up, and Dawn let her hand fall to the pew, almost dropping her phone in the process.

  “What have I just agreed to?” she said aloud. She opened her eyes and looked at the beautiful stained glass window at the front of the chapel. “Is this really the right thing to do?”

  The sun shone right through the Lord’s eye, making it twinkle as if He was saying, If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll never get a different result.

  So she’d give McDermott a chance. A date. “Maybe two dates,” she said, still watching the sun shine through the colored glass. And maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t be so lonely anymore.

  Dawn tool a deep breath and faced the nondescript door. It led to an unremarkable office. Where her oldest sister, Wren, would be sitting behind a chest-high counter, probably playing solitaire on the computer.

 

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