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Aidan swore again. “Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll be one of your damned volunteers.”
“Good to know. I’ll get you the paperwork within a day.”
“There’s paperwork?” Aidan shook his head. “No good deed.”
Nick slapped him on the back. “You know it.”
“Don’t think you won’t be right there beside me,” Aidan told him.
“Never planned for it to be otherwise.”
Two for the price of one, Kipling thought with satisfaction. The search and rescue team, which he refused to think of as HERO, would be staffed mostly by volunteers. He would be in charge, and he was hiring a second-in-command, not to mention a couple of support staff. But everyone else would work on a volunteer basis. It was the easiest way to keep costs down.
Given the willingness of the community to get involved, Kipling didn’t think he would have a problem getting everyone trained. He’d already spoken to both the police and fire chiefs, and they’d assured him he would have plenty of their folks showing up.
Aidan was the one he wanted, though. With his business, he knew the area better than almost anyone. When someone was lost, Kipling wanted Aidan on the ground, looking.
“When does training begin?” Nick asked.
“Not for about a month. The facilitator from STORMS arrived a couple of days ago. She has to get the terrain mapped and the software up and running first.”
Aidan nodded. “The tall redhead, right? I’ve seen her around town. What’s her name?”
“Destiny Mills.”
Kipling wanted to say more. Like the fact that her green eyes reminded him of spring leaves against the last snow of the season. Only he wasn’t a guy who talked like that. No one did. At least no one he knew.
“You could use a woman,” Nick said, nudging his brother.
“She’s not my type.”
“How do you know? You haven’t met her.”
Aidan’s expression tightened. “She isn’t. Let it go.” He turned and walked out.
Nick waited until his brother was gone to shake his head. “He won’t date anyone longer than fifteen minutes. One day that lifestyle’s going to bite him in the ass. What about you? What are your thoughts on Ms. Destiny Mills?”
Kipling wasn’t sharing them with anyone but the woman in question. “I’m working with her, not dating her. Why all the interest?”
“I’m the bartender. I need to know things.”
Kipling thought briefly about warning Nick off. He had his own plans for Destiny. Then he realized there was no point. If Destiny was interested in the same thing he was, he would know soon enough. If she wasn’t, then Nick was welcome. Kipling had never had much trouble getting or keeping women. His problem was more along the lines of never feeling he wanted more than a temporary arrangement. But until it was time to walk away, he was interested in wherever Destiny wanted to go.
* * *
DESTINY WOKE UP earlier than usual. By the time she’d showered and dressed it was still a few minutes before six. She grabbed her wallet and stuffed it in the front pocket of her jeans then walked quietly to the front door and let herself out.
It was still cool, although the weather guy had promised a nice warm day. The sky was clear, and the neighborhood quiet. She zipped up her hoodie and turned toward town.
One of the advantages of constantly moving around was discovering local businesses. So far her Fool’s Gold finds were a street truck that served incredible sandwiches by Pyrite Park and Ambrosia Bakery. The former solved her lunch problem and the latter was going to require her to add a little exercise to her routine.
She crossed empty streets. As she got closer to the bakery, she saw a few people and a couple of cars. A jogger nodded as he passed her.
Destiny liked discovering the rhythm of each town she worked in. They were all similar, with just enough differences to keep things interesting. In a way, like the rhythm of a song. Stanzas told a story, and the chorus was the exploration of a theme. The backbone that held it all together.
She turned on Second Street and saw the bakery ahead on her left. The doors stood open, which meant it was now after six. She walked in and inhaled the sweet combination of sugar, cinnamon and freshly baked bread. Talk about heaven.
A petite blonde stood behind the counter. She had blue eyes and a pretty face. There was something familiar about her, although Destiny knew they hadn’t met. Her name tag said Shelby.
“Morning,” Shelby said with a smile. “You’re up early.”
“Not as early as you.” Destiny motioned to the display case full of pastries. “Unless these were baked last night.”
Shelby laughed. “No such luck. I was here at three.”
Destiny winced. “Okay, I like to get up early, but that would challenge even me.”
“I know. When I have a day off, I sleep late. Which means four-thirty. It’s an odd schedule, that’s for sure. What can I get you?”
Destiny chose a half-dozen Danish. She would leave most of them for Starr and maybe take one to work.
Shelby put the pastries in a silver-and-white-striped box. “Are you new in town or visiting?”
“I’m new. Here for the summer to set up software for the search and rescue program.”
Shelby nodded. “HERO.” She laughed again. “My brother is Kipling Gilmore. I don’t know if you’ve met him yet. He’s running the program. And totally hates the name, by the way. If you want to torture him or something, just keep saying it out loud.”
“I have met him, and I appreciate the advice.”
Destiny studied the other woman, realizing now why she looked familiar.
Shelby handed over the box. “You know, you don’t have to come here for Danish. Not that I don’t appreciate the company. But most people want coffee, too, and we don’t do that. You can get our baked goods over at Brew-haha.”
“I’m not much for coffee. Just sugar.” Destiny thought about her conversation with Kipling and what Mayor Marsha had said about the program. “Have you lived in town long? I got the impression that Kipling was a relatively new addition to the population.”
“Nearly a year.” Shelby’s smile faded. “I moved here last summer. My mom died and, well, it’s complicated. Kipling was in rehab until January. Physical, not the other kind. Oh, do you know who he is? The skiing and all that?”
Destiny nodded. “I figured it out. The accident was pretty bad. I’m glad he’s okay now.” She hesitated, not sure what to say about Shelby’s mother. “I’m sorry about your mom.”
“Thanks. It never goes away, but I’m dealing with it. Having Kipling around helps. I mean he’s totally annoying, but I love him. He’s the only family I have left. I’d be lost without him.”
“It’s nice to have family around,” Destiny murmured, thinking of Starr. The girl was only fifteen and pretty much alone in the world. It was good they were going to have the summer to get to know each other.
A couple of guys walked into the bakery. They were tall and broad-shouldered and wearing shorts and T-shirts. They looked familiar, too, although she couldn’t place them. Was everyone in this town related?
“Loser buys,” the dark-haired guy said. “That means you.”
“Nice, Sam. I am so kicking your ass on the court today.”
“See you tomorrow,” Destiny told Shelby and headed for the door.
She passed by the two men. They were both wearing wedding rings. Not that she’d been attracted to either of them. She was strong and powerful and never sucked in by something as temporal as sex. She had goals and rules and a plan. And if all that failed, she had Danish.
She started back for the house. There were more people out on the street now, and the sun was rising in the sky. She smiled and greeted those who waved at her. She liked the friendliness of the town.
At the corner, she checked before crossing. As she glanced to her left, she saw a man jogging away from her. His stride was slightly uneven, and his pace slower than most. As the information registered in her brain, she recognized Kipling.
There were scars on his legs and a hitch to his gait. She thought about all that he would have gone through after his accident and wondered about the courage it took to recover from something like that. No, not recover. Thrive. It spoke highly of his character.
She crossed the street and made her way to her rental house. Once inside, she left the Danish on the table and hurried into her bedroom. After closing the door, she got her guitar out of the closet and sat on the edge of the bed.
Words tumbled around a half-formed melody. Aware of Starr sleeping on the other side of the hall, she strummed quietly, pausing every now and then to write down lyrics or notes.
Too many ways and too many days. Testing and hurting, I see you alone. Too many nights of wanting it right and I’m walking...
She pressed her palm against the strings as she struggled with the line.
The song beckoned. The need to get lost in finding the right combination of notes and syllables grew. Of meaning and phrases. She glanced at her small bedside clock. She had to be at work, and she didn’t want Starr to hear her. Better to start her morning.
She drew in a breath, then compromised by setting her phone timer for forty-five minutes. When the beeper sounded, she forced herself to put away her guitar and shoved the worn notebook into her nightstand.
She had a real job, she reminded herself. A regular life. The rest of it—the songs and the music—were just play. She made deliberate choices for a reason. Staying in control was all that kept her safe. Vigilance, she reminded herself. Determination. She was stronger than her biology. She always would be.
CHAPTER THREE (#ua2db14b0-04a2-534e-b7ec-4b8fcef1a5d1)
KIPLING SET UP the new computers on the desks that had been delivered the previous week. He sorted the packing material into recycle and trash piles, then carried it all out back. When he returned, Destiny was walking into the HERO office.
“Right on time,” he said, taking in the jeans, boots and short-sleeved T-shirt she wore. She’d pulled her long hair back into a ponytail.
From what he could tell, she wasn’t wearing makeup. She used a small backpack for a handbag and certainly didn’t dress to impress anyone. She wasn’t the kind of woman who kept a man waiting “just five more minutes” while she primped. All pluses in his book.
“I see the computers arrived,” she said by way of greeting. “I’ll let my tech guys know. They’ll be here in a couple of days to load and test the software. While they’re doing that, I’ll be mapping the terrain. Then we’ll get started on training you and your volunteers on STORMS.”
“Good morning,” he said. “How was your evening?”
She raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t take you for someone who lived for social niceties, but sure. I can do that. Good morning, Kipling. Did you have a nice jog this morning?”
“How did you know I was out jogging?”
She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I went out to get some breakfast and saw you. Going the other way. I would have called out, but you were too far away. I wasn’t spying or anything.”
“I never thought you were.”
She’d been watching him. A year ago, he would have read that as a good sign. One of interest. Today he was less sure. She could have been put off by the scars or his limp. Although she didn’t strike him as overly concerned about that sort of thing.
“It’s the small-town thing,” she continued. “You can’t really escape anyone. Not that you were trying to. Or anything.”
She dropped her backpack on the desk and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Feeling awkward?” he asked.
“Very.”
“Want to move on to another topic?”
“More than you know.”
He grinned. “Then let’s get down to business.”
Unlike the mayor’s office, there was no comfortable sofa-and-chair arrangement. In the command center, conversations took place around a metal table with folding chairs. He and Destiny settled at one corner. She pulled a laptop out of her backpack and booted it. While it did its thing, she handed over a couple sheets of paper.
“This is the preliminary schedule,” she told him. “Mapping and testing will take about a month. We’ll have multiple practice rescues that will all go badly. For those, we want as small a group participating as possible. So no one gets discouraged.”
“You’re assuming the worst.”
“I’ve done this before,” she told him. “Man and machine don’t work well together without training. Once we get the kinks worked out, we’ll broaden the practice areas and bring in more people.”
She was sitting close enough that they could both see her laptop screen, which also meant he could inhale the scent of her shampoo. Something floral, he thought. A bit of a surprise considering how she didn’t seem all that interested in being girly with her clothes or accessories.
Unexpected nuances. Everyone had them. They were some of his favorite things to discover. What else was she hiding? Was there a passionate woman behind the “all business” exterior? Was she quiet in bed, or a screamer? He was open to either.
She turned to get something out of her backpack. As she moved, her ponytail swung toward him. Dark red hair curled slightly at the ends, begging to be touched. He knew the strands would be soft. For a second he allowed himself the fantasy of her pulling out the band holding her hair in place and shaking her head. Like in one of those cheesy perfume commercials. Maybe she would crook her finger at him.
Unlikely, he thought, holding in a grin at the image. Destiny didn’t strike him as the sultry type. He would guess she was more practical than seductive. Again, not a problem for him.
She set more papers on the desk and scanned the top sheet. “You’re going to be hiring a second-in-command?”
He forced his attention back to the job at hand. “Yes. I have interviews lined up for the next few weeks. There will also be a couple of paid staffers.” She made a couple of notes as he spoke. “The volunteer force is impressive. Mostly firefighters and cops, along with a few locals who—”
She turned to him. “Sam Ridge.”
“You know him?”
“What? No. I saw him today. At the bakery. He and another guy came in as I left. The one said Sam. I’ve been trying to figure out who he is.” She leaned toward him. “He’s a former NFL kicker. There are a lot of former pro athletes in this town. You, the football guys and some cyclist, too... There was an article about him on the Fool’s Gold website. You’re in good company. Is that why you wanted to move here?”
“Not exactly.”
Her mouth curved up in a smile. “Let me guess. It has something to do with Mayor Marsha.”
“As a matter of fact, it does. She came to see me in New Zealand after my crash and offered me the job.”
He hadn’t cared about the job, he thought grimly, remembering the helplessness he’d felt trapped in a hospital bed, not sure if he would ever walk again. He’d cared about his sister and what she was going through. People said love was a big deal. He’d never thought that. Love didn’t get the job done. When Shelby had been dodging their father’s fists, Kipling’s love hadn’t been able to do a damn thing to save her.
Then Mayor Marsha had shown up and offered a miracle. He didn’t know how the old lady had known what was happening, but she had. As promised, she’d protected Shelby and in return, he’d moved to Fool’s Gold.
He knew he’d gotten the best end of the deal. Shelby was safe, and he had a place to start over. A place where he was simply Kipling Gilmore. Not world famous G-Force. Which probably sounded good enough to most people. He was healed, and he could settle down. What few realized was after years of being a god, sometimes it was hard to settle.
“That’s a long way to go to hire someone,” Destiny said.
