Heart of the Storm

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CHAPTER TWO

THE CHILL WAS already creeping into Sandy’s small house, and Brody knew whenever the power didn’t come back within a few minutes, it could be an hour or it could be a while. And a while with no heat was no fun.

“I can’t stay here with Noah,” Sandy said, as if she’d been reading his mind. “He’s too little.”

“You don’t have a wood stove or a generator or anything?”

“We don’t have a wood stove because of Mike’s allergies. And we had a generator, but it died and we haven’t gotten around to having it fixed yet.”

“Space heaters?”

“Mike has a torpedo heater for the shed, but it’s not really meant for in the house. And I don’t think we have any kerosene for it, anyway.”

He scrubbed his hands over his face, considering the options. If Mike hadn’t been able to get the generator running, there was no sense in Brody standing around in the cold, tinkering with it. But Sandy was right. Noah was too little to weather having no heat with not even an estimated time for power restoration.

“How about Mom and Dad’s?” he asked. He could drop them off, have a quick cup of coffee and then, hopefully, still get out of town and to a hotel.

“The way Dad smokes?” Sandy shook her head. “A quick visit’s one thing, but Noah can’t stay there.”

“We might make it to a hotel, but we’d have to leave now.” The motels in Tucker’s Point were all closed for the off-season, so they’d have to go inland or down the coast. He’d take the chance alone, but not with his sister and a baby in the car. “It’s already white-knuckle out there.”

Sandy stood in front of the window, gently bouncing the blue bundle in her arms. “We can’t risk that. I think we should head to the school before it gets any worse.”

He agreed, but that didn’t make it sit any easier. The plan was to get in, get out and not see anybody but his sister and her family and maybe his parents if he had the time. The plan didn’t include sitting around an elementary school gymnasium with whatever percentage of the population of Tucker’s Point showed up.

The only saving grace was that there wouldn’t be too many people from his old neighborhood. The fishing families tended to be a hardier bunch and more self-sufficient, so they’d weather the storm better.

“Brody?” his sister prompted.

“Yeah. We should go.” He reached out to take the baby from her. “Gather up whatever you’ll need and we’ll go before it gets any worse.”

It wasn’t a fun ride. Front-wheel, all-wheel or four-wheel drive didn’t matter on ice and his fingers were strangling the steering wheel before he even reached the end of Sandy’s road. With her neighborhood in darkness, it wasn’t bad, but when they passed through areas that still had power, the ice refracted lights and pierced his eyeballs.

He crept along the streets and with every slip of the wheels, he grew more conscious of the precious cargo sleeping in the backseat. Sandy was quiet, probably not wanting to distract him, and they both breathed a sigh of relief when he finally reached the end of Oak Street and turned into the school lot.

“Do you want me to carry Noah?”

“You can get our bags in one trip if I take him, but I’ll leave him in his seat so he’ll be protected if I fall on the ice.”

“Hold on to the handle if you do fall.” Brody chuckled. “Otherwise he’ll go on one hell of a first sledding trip.”

They made it to the double doors marked as the shelter entrance without falling and Brody set their bags down to hold the door for Sandy. After picking them back up, he followed her in, blinking under the bright lighting.

“We have to sign in,” Sandy said. “They need to know who’s here, plus if there’s a problem in my neighborhood, they’ll know where I am.”

He set the bags next to her feet. “I’ll take care of it. Wait here.”

“No, wait,” he heard her say as he turned and stepped toward the woman with the clipboard.

Just as the woman with the clipboard turned toward him.

“Delaney?”

* * *

THE CHAOS AROUND Delaney faded into the background as her eyes met Brody’s, and her breath caught in her throat.

The last thing she needed was to be snowed in with Brody Rollins.

He’d changed during his five years away. His clothes looked expensive and his dark hair was obviously being professionally cut now, rather than hacked at by his mother in the kitchen when it got shaggy enough so it fell over his eyes. At twenty-seven, his face had matured and he had an air of confidence he’d never had before.

But that rough and dangerous boy was still there, simmering under the thin layer of polish. As always, the girl inside who’d loved him immediately yearned for his touch, but that girl needed to behave so she didn’t embarrass herself.

Holding the clipboard against her chest, as if it were some kind of cheap plastic armor, Delaney forced herself to smile. “Hi, Brody. It’s been a long time.”

“It has.” He didn’t return her smile. Instead, he looked at her so intently she felt as if she was being memorized. “You look great.”

If women with windblown ponytails, crowd-wrangling crazy eyes and a fresh coffee spill down the front of her favorite Red Sox sweatshirt were his thing, more power to him. “Thanks. You do, too.”

Oh, crap. The sweatshirt. Delaney clutched the clipboard tighter, as if she was trying to hide the baseball logo on the front. Maybe he wouldn’t notice her sweatshirt—so much her favorite, the hem and the end of the cuffs were a little on the frayed side—had been his, once upon a time. He’d pulled it off and made her wear it one night when they took a late-night walk by the shore. It had been in her dryer, waiting to be folded, when he took off.

After crying into the sweatshirt off and on for days, she’d washed it again and thought about returning it to Brody’s mom. She knew it was his favorite, after all. But she hadn’t gotten the rings, the picket fence, the two-and-a-half kids or the black Lab she’d been waiting for, so she’d kept the damn sweatshirt.

“I guess I’m supposed to tell you we’re here or something?”

Oh, she knew he was there. The racing pulse, tingling body and muscle-memory wondering why she wasn’t in his arms let her know Brody Rollins was in the room.

An unhappy squawk from the baby seat Sandy was holding gave her an excuse to break eye contact with the man. Throwing a newborn into the mix was going to be a challenge. People would already be cranky about being displaced from their homes and trying to sleep on cots in a school gymnasium. Noah fussing to be fed every few hours, especially during the night, would grate on already raw nerves.

“Okay,” she said, putting on her professional face, “let’s get you checked in. And we have a very limited number of privacy screens, but I’ll make sure you get one, Sandy.”

The act of writing down their names and Sandy’s address helped calm her nerves. They had no medical concerns to note, other than Sandy having given birth two weeks before, and she listed the medications new mom and baby had. They had to sign acknowledging they understood the rules of the shelter and would abide by them, and she was doing okay until Brody stepped close to take the pen and clipboard from her.

He smelled delicious. Slightly damp wool and leather and a hint of a very masculine cologne. Like money, she thought. He didn’t smell anything like the Brody Rollins she’d known.

And it was probably deliberate. Because everything about the man seemed to trigger a memory; she remembered the amount of time he’d spend in the shower, trying to scrub the scent of fishing off his skin before taking her out on a date. He’d hated that smell—been ashamed of it—even though she’d never complained.

As soon as he’d finished signing his name and handed back her clipboard, she put as much distance between them as she could without appearing obvious. “Let’s put you guys in that back corner. It’s a low traffic area, so maybe Noah will be able to sleep.”

After leading Brody and Sandy to the cots in the corner, Delaney slipped through the double doors they’d hung a sign on that read No Admittance Without a Volunteer and into the main hallway of the school. The doors swung closed behind her and she stepped to the right so she could lean her head against the wall.

There was not enough ice cream in the world to take the edge off this situation, even if she could get home to her freezer.

Of course, the jerk had to look amazing. Not that he could have gone too far downhill in five years, but now he was a man who’d make her look twice even if he was a stranger on the street. That kind of delicious packaging on a man she’d loved with all of her heart, though, was making her head spin.

She needed to focus. After taking a deep breath, she straightened and walked toward the closet where they’d stashed the few privacy screens they had. If they left them in the gym, a brawl would probably break out for them.

Once she’d handed it off to Sandy, Delaney would go back about her business of running the emergency shelter and do her best to ignore Brody. It wasn’t what she wanted to do. Now that she’d come face-to-face with him, all the questions that had haunted her were rattling around in her brain, demanding answers.

Why hadn’t he told her he was leaving? Why hadn’t he at least said goodbye? Had asking her to go with him ever crossed his mind, or did he deliberately leave her as well as Tucker’s Point behind? And why hadn’t he loved her enough to stay?

She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of bringing it up, though. Especially in front of people she knew. It wasn’t as though knowing the answers would change anything. All it would do was rip open old wounds and not change the bottom line. Brody knew where she was. If he wanted her, he would have come back for her.

Feeling steadier, Delaney carried the screen into the gym and walked it over to the corner where Brody and Sandy had gathered three cots together.

“I hope you don’t mind we took an extra,” Sandy said. “If Mike gets a chance to sleep, he’ll probably come here.”

“It’s fine. If we do end up with a shortage of cots, I might have to steal it back if he’s not here, but we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.” She leaned the screen against the wall. “I’ll let you guys figure out how you want this after you get situated.”

“Thanks so much, Delaney,” Sandy said.

Delaney managed not to look Brody in the face even once during the exchange. She could do this, she thought, as she brushed off her hands and started walking away. Ignoring him wouldn’t be so hard.

“Hey, Delaney?” She turned and her insides quivered when his mouth lifted into that boyish grin she’d always been a sucker for. “Nice sweatshirt.”

* * *

BRODY WAS DOING everything in his power not to watch Delaney as she moved around the gym, doing whatever needed to be done. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a comic book hero and his powers were limited.

She’d barely changed at all in the five years he’d been gone. Her dark blond hair, judging by the length of her ponytail, was a little longer. And she’d put on a little weight, but it looked good on her.

Seeing her in his sweatshirt, though, was twisting him up in ways he hadn’t thought possible. He’d looked for it the night he’d left town because it was his favorite and he didn’t want to leave it behind. Then he’d remembered pulling it over Delaney’s head and helping her shove her arms in the sleeves because she’d been shivering in the ocean breeze.

Brody had been tormented for weeks after he left town, imagining her wearing the sweatshirt and missing him. Eventually he figured she’d get over him and his prized Red Sox sweatshirt would go to Goodwill or be used to wax her car.

He wasn’t sure what to make of the fact she was wearing it tonight. Was it just something she grabbed out of the back of her closet? Or did she still think of him when she wore it?

“Stop staring at her,” Sandy hissed. “You’re making it more awkward.”

Forcing his attention away from Delaney, he looked down at Noah, who was starting to squirm in his car seat and make squeaky noises that were cute at the moment, but bound to get louder in a hurry. “I’m just looking around.”

“If you were looking around, you’d know half the people in here are watching you watch her, hoping for good gossip.”

“Nothing to gossip about.”

“Everybody knows Delaney and half of them know you broke her heart. There’s definitely gossip.”

He rolled his eyes, mentally adding her comment to the why Tucker’s Point sucks column. “Old news.”

By the time Sandy got Noah out of his seat, the baby was at about half volume and Brody reached for the folding privacy screen Delaney had leaned against the wall. As he looked it over, trying to figure out the best way to fold it out for maximum privacy, he glanced around the gym again. He didn’t figure a screaming baby was going to go over too well.

A few guys threw dirty looks their way, and Brody felt his temper rising. Maybe he’d made himself into a successful businessman and the calluses were gone, but there were some things a guy from the rough part of town didn’t forget. Like how to throw a punch.

“Brody.” Sandy’s elbow jabbed his ribs. “Brody! Don’t even start.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“I know that look and I’m telling you don’t even think about it.”

Brody shrugged, more to ease the tension from his shoulders than in response to her words. “That guy in the green sweatshirt was a couple years behind me in school. A punk with a big mouth.”

“Now he’s just a dad here with two young kids who are probably already on his last nerve and he’s thinking about how a newborn’s going to make it so much worse.”

Now that she mentioned it, Brody saw the two boys near the guy. Young and full of the frantic energy that came with being up past their bedtime, they were roughhousing and showed no signs of being tired. A newborn in their midst definitely wouldn’t make the guy’s life any easier.

“Can you do me a favor?” Sandy asked after he’d wrapped the screen around their cots. “I’m supposed to drink a lot of water when I’m nursing. I drank one bottle already and I couldn’t fit anymore in the bags. Can you get some from the kitchen?”

At least it was something to do. Brody had a feeling if this power outage stretched on, he’d be begging for busy work. He wasn’t a guy used to sitting around doing nothing. But he only got halfway across the gym before he ran into an old friend.

“Hot damn. If it ain’t Brody Rollins.” Donnie Cox didn’t look much different than the last time Brody had seen him, downing shots after a good haul. Worn flannel shirt, faded jeans and unlaced work boots with duct tape over one toe. “Heard you were back in town.”

Brody shook his hand, noting the hard, ragged calluses across Donnie’s palm. It had taken almost two years for Brody’s hands to smooth to the point they weren’t something people—usually women—commented on. “It’s good to see you again, Cox.”

“Yeah, I brought the wife and mother-in-law over when the power went out, but I’m going to go back out and do some welfare checks. Hate being cooped up.”

“Married, huh? Congratulations.”

“I married Becks. Big surprise.” Donnie and Rebecca were not only high-school sweethearts, but had been together since junior high. They’d never dated anybody but each other, as far as Brody knew. “I’ll be a dad in four months, too. Our first.”

Brody said all the right congratulatory words, but mentally he was acknowledging that guys he went to school with being married and having kids made him feel a little as if he was missing out on something. Sure, he’d been working hard and putting money in the bank, but he’d be thirty soon. It wouldn’t be long before he started looking for a wife and planning a family.

As the thought took hold in his mind, his gaze was drawn to Delaney. If he hadn’t left town, they’d be married now. Probably have at least two kids. And he’d work his ass off every day just to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table while Delaney scrounged for coupons and did laundry that would always smell like a fishing boat.

He couldn’t regret not letting them turn into his parents. But he regretted not having her. He regretted that a lot.

“It was good to see you, man,” Donnie said. “I need to get back.”

He shook Donnie’s hand, and then continued toward the kitchen. Delaney seemed to be the only volunteer there and he didn’t know where they kept the water, so he headed toward her. When she saw him coming, her expression grew guarded and he hated that.

“What can I do for you?”

So formal and cold. She’d been his best friend once and her voice had always made him feel good, whether she was talking about her day or whispering sweet invitations in his ear. “Sandy’s out of water and she’s supposed to drink a lot when she’s nursing Noah. She said you’d have some.”