Hometown Hero's Redemption

She’d been unwanted.

The purple duffel bag had been the only thing she’d owned. Every night before she went to bed, she’d fold her clothes and zip them into it.

Always ready. Always prepared to move.

One of the boys at the third home tried to steal it from her, and she’d grown blind with rage. Six years old. Already too street-smart for the world. That night she’d snuck into the kitchen, grabbed a paring knife, went into his room and waved the knife, demanding he give it back.

He had.

And she had been placed in a different home two weeks later.

The look in Wyatt’s eyes yesterday, the one questioning if he was worth anything, roared back. Wyatt hadn’t lost all his hope yet. Not the way she had so early on. And he wasn’t living in a hovel with his meth-addicted mom on a notorious gang’s street like Treyvon and Jay had been.

Drew thought she’d be good for Wyatt.

She clutched the bag tightly and almost laughed. He had no idea that six-year-old Lauren had threatened a kid with a knife to get this bag back. Her nicknames had been “Prude” and “Do-Gooder” and “Prim Pierce,” and they were so far from the truth, it was laughable.

She wasn’t a wild, angry little girl anymore. Her adoptive parents had given her more than a home. They’d given her faith in a loving God. They’d given her a baptism, a new person to replace the old, rotten, unwanted one.

And she’d promised herself she would be worthy of their love, and she’d help kids like her, the way they had.

She uncurled her legs, set the duffel bag on top of the box and sat on the edge of her bed.

Lord, I’ve been avoiding the hard prayers lately, the ones where I ask You to show me Your will. I was afraid—I am afraid—You’ll ask me to do something I can’t handle.

Could she babysit Wyatt and not have her heart broken?

Who would help Wyatt if she didn’t?

At least he had Drew.

The longing she’d sensed in Drew before he left earlier had drawn her heart, unbidden, to him. He’d given her a peek of who he’d become, and she had to admit, time and experience had turned his drive into something less selfish than it had been in high school.

Could she say the same about herself?

She’d consider meeting him and Wyatt at Uncle Joe’s Restaurant Friday night. In the meantime, she’d find the Chicago file.

Chapter Three

“Hope you’re ready for the tastiest fish fry you’ve ever eaten.” Drew glanced over at Wyatt next to him in the truck Friday night. Daylight was sticking around longer—a nice change from the short winter days behind them. He wondered if Lauren would join them tonight.

“I hate fish.”

“Well, you’re going to love this fish. It’s covered in batter and deep-fried. Ask for double the tartar sauce. Just a tip from me to you.”

Was that an eye roll? Drew grinned. An eye roll was better than dead silence. At least the kid was showing signs of life. He’d been subdued, shrugging and grunting yesterday when Drew asked him about school. Drew had met with his teacher earlier, and she’d assured him Wyatt, though quiet, was settling in fine.

He wasn’t so sure.

If Lauren didn’t show up tonight, he would take it as a sign he needed to find another babysitter. In fact, he should find someone else, no matter what. After she’d told him about leaving Chicago and not being able to handle the emotional pain of her cases anymore, he understood. It would be unfair to ask her to help, knowing she was still upset about whatever had made her quit her job.

What had made her quit her job?

The parking lot was ahead. The building must have been remodeled. It looked bigger, newer than it had when he was in high school. One thing that hadn’t changed? It was packed.

All his peppiness about the fish fry wasn’t fooling his roiling stomach. This was the first time Drew would be out in public, and he dreaded what was coming. How did people greet a fallen hometown hero? He supposed he was about to find out.

Parking the truck, he studied the entrance. Did any of his old friends still live around here? Would they treat him the same? He hoped not. He wasn’t the same. Didn’t ever want to be that guy again.

“Aren’t we going in?” Wyatt asked.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Drew said a silent prayer as they crossed the lot. Lord, whatever happens, help me take it like a man in there.

“Hey, Uncle Drew, isn’t that Lauren?” Wyatt tugged on the sleeve of his shirt.

Just hearing her name flooded him with relief. There she was—long blond hair waving down her back. Her jeans, bubblegum-pink T-shirt and athletic shoes made him smile. She couldn’t have been prettier in a ball gown.

“Lauren,” Drew called. She turned, a smile spreading across her face when she spotted them. She waited near the door until they joined her.

“So, Wyatt, is it okay if I sit with you two?” Her eyes twinkled.

Wyatt’s tongue must have frozen because all he seemed able to do was nod.

“Good to see you.” Drew opened the door for her.

She entered the restaurant. “Let’s find a table.”

Drew stopped at the hostess station. The girl behind the stand held a stack of menus. “It’s a thirty-minute wait inside, but we have a few tables open on the deck.”

He looked at Lauren. “Do you want to eat outside, or is it too cold for you?”

“Outside is fine. It’s a beautiful night. What do you think, Wyatt?”

Wyatt was eyeing the fish and deer heads mounted on the pine walls.

“Wyatt,” Drew said.

He flushed. “Huh?”

“Do you want to eat outside?”

He peered at the crowd. Large windows displayed views of the lake. “Yeah, sure.”

They weaved through the tables on their way to the patio doors. Drew didn’t look left or right. He concentrated on following Lauren’s graceful movements.

“Gannon?” A voice boomed over the lively conversation. “Gannon the Cannon?” The man leaped out of his chair and stood between Drew and Lauren. Wyatt instinctively huddled closer to Drew. He kept his arm around the kid’s shoulders.

“It’s me, Mike Schneider. Man, I haven’t seen you in ages. How’ve you been?” Mike clapped him on the back, his face beaming.

Drew’s inner serenity crumbled faster than a week-old cookie. Mike Schneider had been a linebacker on the team, one of the guys he ran around with. Someone who had thought he was above getting in trouble. The same way Drew had been.

“Good to see you, Mike.” He nodded, hoping to bypass the reunion and get to the deck ASAP.

“So what brings you to town? You visiting?”

“I’m actually moving back. I start at the fire station next week. You still live here?”

“Just visiting my folks with my wife—you remember Tori?” He pointed to the corner of the table, where Tori waved above several empty beer glasses. Another vaguely familiar couple sat across from her. “My sister, Paige, joined us. This is her husband, Brent.”

“Good to see you, Drew. You’re looking good.” Tori winked. He gave her a tight nod. Tori James had flirted with Drew throughout high school and, if his memory served him correctly, had never had a nice thing to say about Lauren. The same way he hadn’t.

The ladies began to whisper as Mike continued. “Hey, remember sneaking out to the Flats with Brittany? Man, did we have fun. Late-night swimming has never been the same.”

Shame lit a bonfire in his gut. Drew stepped forward. “Yeah, well, we’re holding up traffic.”

Mike ran a calculating gaze across Drew over to Lauren, and his eyes about bugged out. “Am I seeing things or what? Is that Prim—”

“It’s Lauren Pierce.” Drew frowned. Lauren’s face was a polite mask—nothing was getting through it.

“What? Are you two together?” Mike chortled as if it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “Is this your kid?”

“This is my godson, Wyatt. Good to see you.” Drew clenched his jaw and propelled Wyatt forward. His veins felt like they were going to explode. Every table they passed seemed to be staring, pointing and whispering, but maybe it was his imagination. The patio doors were merely a few yards away.

“What’s wrong, Uncle Drew?” Wyatt rubbed his biceps as soon as Drew let go when they made it to the deck.

“Nothing.”

“Are you mad?” Wyatt sounded worried.

“I’m fine.” Drew studied the people seated outside but thankfully didn’t see anyone familiar.

Lauren led them to the most secluded table. She patted the chair next to hers and smiled at Wyatt. “Drew hasn’t been home in years.”

Wyatt didn’t look convinced. He began to nervously chew his fingernail. “Let’s go home.”

What was bothering him? He’d been okay when they had arrived.

“Do you want to go home?” Lauren asked, her voice calm and reassuring.

“I don’t know.”

His face looked pale. Drew ticked through possible reasons Wyatt had gone from excited to jittery so quickly. Was he getting sick?

“Are you sure you’re not mad, Uncle Drew?”

“I’m not mad,” Drew said. “Like Lauren said, it’s been a long time since I’ve been here, and I guess I’m nervous.”

Lauren tapped Wyatt’s arm and pointed to the lake. “The water is so shimmery tonight, and, look, there’s a duck and her babies.” Slowly Wyatt’s color returned, and he seemed to relax. A waitress stopped by for their orders, and a family came outside with a young girl and a boy about Wyatt’s age.

“Hey, Wyatt.” The boy waved and sped over to their table. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight. Want to go try to win a prize with the claw?”

Yearning and fear collided in Wyatt’s expression. Drew hitched his chin. “Go ahead. I thought I saw the claw machine inside those doors. You can see us from there.”

“I’d better stay here.” Wyatt shrank into himself.

Lauren smiled at the other boy. “Why don’t you pull up a seat? You two can talk a bit and play on the claw machine a little later if you feel like it.”

“Okay, let me tell Mom and Dad.” The boy ran off.

Wyatt straightened, clearly happy with her solution. A round of Cokes arrived, and the kid returned, taking the seat next to Wyatt.

“I’m Wyatt’s uncle Drew, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Hunter.”

“Nice to meet you, Hunter.”

The kid had already turned away and was asking Wyatt about a video game. His enthusiasm must have been contagious because soon Wyatt couldn’t stop talking about the world he was building, whatever that meant. Drew guessed it had something to do with his new video game.

Now that Wyatt was occupied, Drew could focus on Lauren. He’d been waiting all day, wondering if their conversation Wednesday had changed her mind about him. She’d been less prickly when he’d told her about life after football, but she’d had time to process it all since then. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to be around him. Especially not when Mike had just reminded her Drew had been such a jerk before.

He’d just have to show her he’d changed. For good. “I’m glad you came tonight.”

“Me, too.” The low sun at her back made her hair glow.

“I want you to know I’m not—”

“Drew! We thought that was you!” Two attractive women squealed, prancing to their table. His stomach plummeted. Shelby Lattimer and Beth Jones. They’d been on the dance squad in high school, and he’d dated both. Not at the same time, of course.

“Well, look who’s here.” Beth narrowed her eyes at Lauren. Beth wore painted-on dark jeans, a tiny black shirt and sky-high heels. Drew raised his eyebrows at the too-revealing outfit. “Haven’t seen you anywhere but the fitness center since you moved back, Lauren. You’re finally hitting the town, huh?”

“Hey, Drew.” Shelby’s long brown hair was pulled into a low ponytail, and she twirled a section in her fingers. Her outfit, a tight red dress and stiletto boots, also left little to the imagination.

“Beth, Shelby.” The glint in Lauren’s eyes was the only crack in her composure. “Didn’t see you at spin class Monday night.”

“Yeah, I had a date.” Beth’s gaze flitted to Drew, and she smiled suggestively. “Just casual, though.”

Drew almost choked at the way Lauren’s lips pursed.

More people joined Beth and Shelby, all talking at once to Drew and Lauren. There were a lot of shoulder slaps and references to football. There were a few veiled sneers. He couldn’t make sense of most of it, just kept nodding and repeating, “Yeah, it’s good to see you,” and keeping an eye on Lauren, who handled the questions thrown her way with ease.

The waitress arrived with hot platters of food, and the crowd dispersed. His mind tumbled with impressions. The night had just begun, and dealing with all these people from his past already exhausted him. What could Lauren possibly think about this? She probably thought he loved all the attention. High school Drew would have loved it.

“Well, Wyatt, dig in.” Drew waved his fork at Wyatt’s plate. He craved the anonymity of the previous years, wanted nothing more than to go home, sit on the couch and watch TV the rest of the night, but tonight wasn’t about him. “Best fish you’ll ever eat.”

“I ordered chicken tenders,” Wyatt replied in a deadpan voice. Hunter, still sitting next to him, snickered. Wyatt offered a piece of chicken to Hunter, who happily accepted it.

Lauren lifted her Coke to the boys. “To the best chicken tenders you’ll ever eat.”

They exchanged curious glances.

“You’re supposed to clink your glasses with mine,” she whispered. They brightened with understanding and lifted their Cokes. “Cheers.”

Drew sighed. Lauren was so good with Wyatt. But she’d already told him she wasn’t babysitting. This entire night hammered home why he’d been delusional. His past was messy, and he didn’t want to drag her back to those hurtful days.

He might as well forget the whole thing. He’d find another babysitter and wouldn’t force his way into her life.

* * *

“Can I have some quarters?” Wyatt and Hunter stood next to Drew with their palms cupped. “You’re right. I can see the claw machine through the window.”

Lauren wanted to pull both boys into a hug and kiss their foreheads and assure Wyatt Drew wasn’t going anywhere. He’d be right there, where Wyatt could see him. She set her napkin on her plate and watched in amusement as Drew unfolded his wallet and handed Wyatt a five-dollar bill.

“Go up to the front desk and they’ll give you change,” Drew said. “Come back if you need anything.”

The boys ran off. Lauren noted that Wyatt looked back three times as if he were certain Drew would vanish at any moment.

“He’s scared for you.” Lauren turned back to Drew. “Afraid you’ll be gone like his mom and dad.”

The stunned expression on Drew’s face cleared. “That’s crazy. I’ll never leave him.”

“He probably thought the same about his parents.” Lauren pushed her plate away. “I think that’s why he wanted to go home earlier. He sensed the tension when you were talking to Mike.”

“Tension is normal.” Drew shifted back in his seat. She didn’t recognize the expression in his eyes, and she was good at reading people. If she had to guess, she’d say it was regret.

“He’s on high alert. Dealing with a lot of new developments in his life. Tension isn’t normal for him, not now, anyway.”

“I’ll have to hide it then.” He wiped his hand down his cheek. He had the look of a man in way over his head. The actions she’d witnessed the few times they’d been together said otherwise. He was good at this—good at handling Wyatt. He just didn’t know it.

“I didn’t mean to imply... You don’t have to hide anything.” Lauren bit her lower lip to keep from saying too much. She’d been close to a decision about babysitting, and everything she’d seen tonight—from Drew’s obvious discomfort with Mike and Tori to the kind way he’d greeted everyone who stopped by the table without encouraging them to reminisce about the good old days—showed her he’d changed.

He’d told her football had been the only thing he’d cared about in high school. Well, his single-mindedness had shifted. The man would do anything to protect Wyatt and give him a good life.

She would help them. Who else would take care of Wyatt when Drew was at the station?

Beth? Shelby?

Over her dead body. No, Drew was right. Wyatt needed someone who understood what he was going through.

Wyatt needed her. At least until he started feeling at home here. The summer should give her plenty of time to make him comfortable in this town. Then he’d be equipped to get through his days like other children. And when Angela Duke called her back, she’d research the cheer academy. If it seemed to be way over her head, she’d teach a tumbling class and find another office job this fall.

Lauren folded her hands and straightened her shoulders. “I’ll babysit.”

“What?” His jaw dropped; then he closed his mouth and swallowed. “I thought you said—”

“I changed my mind.”

He steepled his long fingers. “I don’t know. After what you told me about getting hurt and leaving Chicago, I’m not sure it’s best for you.”

“Are you saying you don’t want me to babysit anymore?” She had never considered she’d actually convinced him she wasn’t a good fit for Wyatt.

“Lauren, I would like nothing more than for you to take care of Wyatt. You’re way more in touch with his emotions... I feel like a dummy compared to you.”

Could her heart smile? Drew looked adorable when he was complimenting her and unsure of himself.

But he wasn’t unsure of himself. He’d been born sure of himself.

He also had this idea she was perfect, and she’d be the easy solution to making Wyatt’s life all better. She couldn’t even figure out her own. And perfect? What a laughable concept. When Drew realized she was a mess, would he send her packing?

The purple duffel bag flashed in her mind.

“Are you sure you want to?” Drew tilted his neck to the side, and his expression—so raw, so apologetic—tossed cold water on her doubts. She was being silly. They were grown-ups. And this was about Wyatt.

“Yes.” She nodded decisively. “But only until the end of the summer. He’ll have made enough friends by then you’ll have no problem finding someplace he can stay when you’re at work. And, please, keep your expectations realistic about him. He’s not going to bounce back overnight. It might take years.”

His face fell, but he nodded. “Fair enough. Don’t hold it against me if I badger you to continue when September comes around, though. Can you start Monday?”

“I can.”

“Good. Stop by tomorrow, and we’ll go over everything.”

Nervous excitement swirled in her stomach. Or maybe it was the greasy fish. Either way, she hoped she’d made the right decision. Chicago was behind her. She couldn’t help the boys she’d left behind. But she could help Wyatt.

She just prayed she really was what Wyatt needed. She’d never forgive herself if she let him down, too.

Chapter Four

Drew knocked on the fire station door Monday morning at 6:30 a.m. Boxes containing two dozen doughnuts teetered, but he tightened his hold on them. Every station he’d worked at welcomed food, especially the sweet stuff. He had a feeling he’d need every ounce of help to fit in with his new coworkers. What was the Bible passage about prophets not being accepted in their hometowns? Not a great analogy, considering he wasn’t a prophet. His soul was too tarnished to even contemplate that thought.

“Gannon. You’re late,” Chief Reynolds barked as he let Drew in. He was in his midfifties with receding salt-and-pepper hair and a powerful upper body. He reminded Drew of a bulldog, except bulldogs were friendlier. “Follow me.”

“Yes, sir.” Drew kept his head high and his feet moving through the corridor. He was thirty minutes early since his shift started at seven, but hey, he understood this was Rookie Mind Games 101. He’d been through it at both his previous fire stations. Each station had its own unique way of welcoming new hires, and by welcome, he meant harass, intimidate, make fun of and generally try to wean out the ones who could handle the job from the ones who couldn’t.

He could handle the job.

His coworkers just didn’t know it yet.

“Listen up.” The chief stopped in the kitchen, where two men and one woman stood near the coffeemaker. “This is Drew Gannon.” He sent Drew a sideways glance without a hint of pleasure and nodded to the man in front of the stove. “Ben Santos. Gary Walters. Amanda Delassio.” He addressed the three. “Don’t bother remembering this one’s name. He won’t be around long enough for it to matter.”

Drew shook their hands, making mental notes to keep their names straight since he didn’t recognize them.

“Are you done lollygagging?” The chief marched ahead and disappeared through the first door on the left. Drew followed. “Check in at station dispatch. Sign-in’s over there. We keep a daily log. Think you can handle that?”

“Yes, sir.” Drew scratched his name on the list, but the chief was already out the door.

“Secretary is on duty eight until four Monday through Friday. Locker rooms are to your right. Classroom is up ahead. You’ll get a key code for the supply room. We don’t use radios. Every room is wired into the speaker system. I expect you to keep your ears open at all times.”

Drew practically raced to keep up with him. The chief continued upstairs, filling him in on the workout room, living area and basic rules. They completed a brief tour of the garage, trucks and the equipment.

“Got all that, hotshot?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re getting off easy with a six-month probation period and only because I’m trusting the letters of recommendation from your previous supervisors. Personally, I don’t see you lasting two weeks, let alone six months.” The chief circled back to his office with Drew at his heels. “Be ready at seven for assignments. And let’s make one thing clear—I’ve got no use for quitters, whiners or superstars. You’re the bottom of the barrel in my station, and don’t forget it.”

If Drew had already been working there for a couple of years, he would have said something like, “I love you, too, Chief,” and winked at the man, but he’d learned the hard way to keep his mouth shut, ears open and attitude humble until they accepted him.

If they accepted him...

They would. Eventually.

“Well, if it isn’t the NFL wannabe.” Tony Ludlow, a former classmate of Drew’s, blocked the hallway. His beefy arms were crossed over an equally muscular chest. Drew’s stomach dropped to his toes. Of all his possible coworkers, how had he ended up with Tony? They’d graduated from the same class and enjoyed a healthy competition on the football team and off, particularly with girls. Drew cringed, remembering how he’d tried to steal Tony’s prom date. It was probably too late to wish he hadn’t succeeded. What was that girl’s name, anyhow?

“Tony.” Drew stuck his hand out, but Tony didn’t shake it. Surely almost fifteen years had been long enough to douse Tony’s anger about the whole prom thing.

“Aren’t we fortunate? The pretty boy is back,” Tony said to the group in the kitchen. “I wouldn’t trust him near a corpse, let alone your wives or girlfriends.”

Apparently fifteen years hadn’t dampened Tony’s fury. Great.

“What about my husband?” Amanda said, smirking. “Should I be worried about this guy hitting on Jack?”

Good one, Amanda. Drew had a feeling she’d be fun to work with...someday.

“I would be, Mandy.” Tony sized Drew up. “You might as well quit now. No one’s going to hold your hand here.”

“I’m giving him three weeks,” Ben said.

Hey, it was a step up. The chief had given him only two weeks, so he must have impressed Ben more than he’d thought. A call came over the speakers, and everyone got to work.

The next several hours were spent checking equipment, learning procedures, cleaning toilets, prepping gear and responding to emergencies—two 911 calls and one fire call, which turned out to be a false alarm.

After dinner he finally had a break and managed to call Wyatt. He’d tried not to worry, but he couldn’t help wondering if Lauren and Wyatt were doing okay.

“Hey, buddy, how was your day?”

“Oh, hey, Uncle Drew. It was fine.” It sounded like music played in the background, but that might have been the television.

“How’s it going with Lauren?”

“Okay.”

The kid was a real conversationalist. Drew tried not to sigh. “Have a lot of homework?”

“No.”

“What did you have for dinner?”

“Um...” Wyatt must have pulled the phone away because Drew heard Lauren’s muffled voice say something. “Some noodles. Lingreeny.”

“Linguine?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

Drew asked a few more questions and got monosyllabic answers. “Don’t watch too much TV.”

“I can’t. She won’t let me. We’re listening to music. Lauren likes weird stuff.”

“What’s weird about it?”

“I don’t know. She called it jazz.”

He chuckled. “Jazz, huh?”

“Yeah. If I could figure out her phone’s pass code, I’d change it to something good.”

“Keep your hands off her phone.”

“Uncle Drew,” he whined.

“I mean it. Jazz is...educational.” He grimaced, thinking of the torture the poor kid was experiencing.

“Whatever.”

“I love you, Wyatt.”

“You, too, Uncle Drew.”

They hung up.

“Hey, Gannon,” Tony yelled as he entered the living room. “Locker-room floor needs mopping.”

“Yes, sir,” Drew said softly.

He was living the dream, all right. As much as he loved his job, he found himself eager for the shift to end. He’d forgotten how miserable the early probation period could be, and it was that much worse with Tony poisoning the rest of the crew’s impressions of him.

It would be nice if they could see the man he’d become instead of the boy he used to be, but time would take care of that. If not, he’d have to majorly suck up and apologize to Tony.

Who else in town needed an apology from him?

He groaned, heading to the closet for the cleaning supplies. Maybe if he scrubbed the floor hard enough, he could erase all the damage he’d done in his teen years.

At least he didn’t have to worry about Wyatt on top of everything else. The kid was in good hands. And if Lauren could see past his mistakes, the rest of the crew could, too. He hoped so, at least. He’d have to be patient and work at it.

* * *

Were frozen waffles a proper breakfast for a ten-year-old boy? Lauren plucked two out of the toaster and dropped them onto a plate. Opening the refrigerator, she scanned the shelves for fruit. A carton of orange juice stood next to a gallon of milk. Strawberries hid behind a brick of cheese. They would have to do.

She was out of her element here. Last night had been awkward. Since Wyatt had said he didn’t have any homework, he’d fired up his video games as soon as he’d gotten home from school. Then, when she turned them off after an hour, he’d wanted to watch television shows she found entirely inappropriate. Dinner had been quiet. She’d turned on soothing music, but it hadn’t helped.

Drew would be home in thirty minutes. Should she tell him she was having second thoughts about their arrangement?

She rinsed and sliced a few strawberries, fanning them out across the waffles. She set the plate in front of Wyatt.

“Here you go.” After wiping her hands on a paper towel, she checked her watch. “What time did you say the bus picks you up?”

“Why are these things—” he grimaced, holding a strawberry slice in the air “—on my waffles?”

She propped up a smile. “They’re strawberries. Full of vitamin C.”

His shoulders drooped as he pushed all the strawberries to the side. His hair was sticking up in the back, but at least he’d changed into his school clothes.

“They’re good. You should try them.” This morning wasn’t going much better than last night. She’d spent her life helping kids, but she had no experience taking care of them. “At least eat the waffles. You need some food in your stomach. It will help you learn.”

Wyatt wolfed down the waffles, ignoring the berries. Lauren heard the telltale screech of brakes in the distance.

“Grab your backpack. The bus is almost here.”

He trudged to the hall and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Will you be here when I get home?”

“No, I won’t. Your uncle will.” She opened the front door. “Have a good day.”

His eyebrows rose in worry, but he nodded and walked to the end of the drive right as the bus pulled up. Lauren waited in the doorway until he was safely on, and then she shut the door and tidied up the kitchen and living room. She was getting ready to take her first sip of coffee when Drew walked in.

“How did it go?” he asked, his eyes roaming over the room. He draped his jacket on the back of a chair and set a stack of papers on the table.

Lauren debated how to answer. The weariness in Drew’s posture and the bags under his eyes set her in motion. She poured him a cup of coffee. “Do you want cream and sugar?”

He wiped both hands down his face. “No, thanks. I like it black.”

She returned and set the mug on the coffee table in front of Drew before taking a seat on the couch. “Sit.”

He lifted a brow, smiled and kicked back in the recliner. “Yes, sir.”

“Sir?”

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “Habit. I’ve repeated those words more times in the past twenty-four hours than I care to admit. It’s going to take a long time and a lot of effort to get them to accept me.”

“What do you mean?” Lauren hadn’t considered he wouldn’t be instantly accepted at the fire station.

He took a drink, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. The new guy always needs to prove himself. Unfortunately, I have more to prove, given my past.”

She sipped her coffee. “Is there bad blood or something?”

“Tony Ludlow is one of the crew.”

“I always liked Tony,” she said. He’d treated her with respect in high school. Never teased her. He’d pitched in to help with homecoming floats and fund-raisers for Students Against Teen Drinking on many occasions.