Snow Day

“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.”

“We lock the kitchen at night, but water we keep in the coolers under the main table so people can help themselves. Feel free to grab some.”

When she started to turn away, he said her name to make her stop. He didn’t know what to say to her, but he couldn’t stand getting the cold shoulder. Not from her.

“Was there something else?”

“I’m sorry.” It seemed like a good place—the only place—to start. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye.”

She folded her arms across her chest and lifted her shoulders a little in a very familiar defensive reaction. When she was afraid a conversation might make her cry, Delaney’s body language closed up, as if she were wrapping herself in a protective blanket. He wasn’t surprised he remembered that. There wasn’t much he’d forgotten.

“Thank you for the apology, Brody. I did get your note, though. That was thoughtful of you.”

Ouch. So it was angry tears, not sad tears, she was afraid she might shed in front of him. “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”

“No, thanks.”

“Come on, Delaney. I want to talk to you. If you just give me a little consideration, I’ll—”

“I’ll give you the same consideration you gave me. How about that?”

“I did what was best for you. For both of us.”

“That’s weak, Brody. Really weak.”

Maybe it was, but it was all he had. “Delaney, seriously, can we talk?”

“No, Brody, we can’t. I have to dim the lights and start spreading the word it’s quiet time so maybe these kids will get some sleep.”

“After that, maybe we can slip out in the hall and talk?”

“There’s nothing to say. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

She left him standing there alone, feeling as if there were a whole lot of things he wanted to say to her, but the words were all stuck in his throat. No matter how straight she tried to play it, there was still pain in her eyes. He’d known her too long and too well to miss it.

The least he could do while he was stuck here was try to make that pain go away.

CHAPTER THREE

BRODY WASN’T SURE what time it was when he opened his eyes. The gym was quiet, except for the creak of cots as people tried to find comfortable positions in their sleep and an unfortunate amount of snoring. Glancing up at the row of small windows at the top of the walls, he could see it was still dark. And if he listened closely, he could hear icy precipitation still being slapped against the glass by the wind.

Now that he was awake, he had to take a leak, so he rolled out of the cot as quietly as he could and stepped out from behind the privacy screen in his socks. The polished floor was slippery, but he was afraid if he tried to get his shoes out from under his cot, he’d jostle Noah’s car seat. Since it felt as if it had only been about ten minutes since the last time the boy cried, nobody wanted that.

Movement near the set of exterior doors serving as the shelter entrance caught his eye. A woman, who thankfully wasn’t Delaney, was talking in quiet tones to a man. Across the gym, in the dim lights they had to leave on 24/7 for safety reasons, he saw it was Sandy’s husband, so he made his way over.

When the volunteer turned to point in the direction of their cots, Brody lifted his hand and waved as he approached. “Hey, Mike.”

They shook hands. “Glad you made it into town, Brody. Sorry you can’t get back out, though.”

He was, too. “Spending some quality time with the loudest baby in the history of man.”

Mike grinned. “Kid’s got a set of pipes.”

“They letting you crash for a while?”

“Yeah, there’s nothing we can do with this ice and, barring anybody trying to get here, everybody’s off the roads. We’ll sleep for a few hours, then start checking on people. Thanks for getting Sandy and Noah here, by the way.”

“It was no problem.”

“I could have driven them here, but I wouldn’t be able to stay because it’s all hands on deck. I appreciate you being here to help with the baby.”

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” he lied. “We got three cots, and we’re behind that screen over there.”

Once Mike had gone to join his family, Brody made his way to the men’s room. The lights were brighter in there and, when he stepped back into the gym, he had to stop for a moment to let his vision adjust.

He found himself looking around the huge room, looking for Delaney, but all the sleeping, blanket-covered lumps looked the same. He guessed she was probably over near the entrance, so she’d wake up if somebody went in or out, but he wasn’t sure.

Stupid to be looking for her, anyway, he told himself as he made his way back to his cot. She wanted nothing to do with him, and he couldn’t blame her. But as he tucked his arms under his head and stared at the gym ceiling, he couldn’t stop the slideshow of the loving, laughing Delaney he’d left behind from playing through his mind.

Light was streaming through the windows the next time he opened his eyes, and he realized it was Mike grabbing his outerwear and boots that had awoken him. “Heading back out already? Was there breakfast?”

“Little girl’s missing. Mother went into her room this morning and she wasn’t in her bed.”

“Oh, shit.” Brody swung his feet to the floor and scrubbed his hands over his face. “She’s not hiding anywhere in the house?”

“They searched it so thoroughly I wouldn’t be surprised if they have to rehang the Sheetrock. She’s not there.”

Brody stood and picked up his bag, careful not to jostle Noah’s car seat or Sandy’s cot. “I can be ready to go in ten minutes, if you can wait.”

“Dressed like that, I’ll spend more time taking care of you than looking for April.”

The little girl’s name was April. Brody’s gaze fell on his sleeping nephew and his breath caught in his throat. Somebody’s child was out there in this storm and her name was April. “I’m not stupid. I’ve got winter gear, including boots, in the trunk of my rental.”

“Can use the extra eyes and ears, then.”

By the time Brody washed up and changed his clothes in the men’s room—which wasn’t ideal, but was all he had—the activity level in the gym had ratcheted up a notch. There were more men pulling on cold-weather gear and a group of women scrambling to brew coffee and put out doughnuts.

Delaney was one of them, and she scowled when she saw him. “You’re not going out there, are you?”

“I’m going to go out with Mike. I can be an extra set of eyes.”

“You’re not dressed to be out in this kind of weather.”

He took the disposable cup of coffee she handed him and noticed she’d put one sugar and a splash of milk in it, just the way he liked it. “I’ve got a good coat and some boots in the rental. I’ll be fine.”

“Brody, nobody expects you to go.”

“So you all think I’ll just sit here drinking coffee while a little girl’s lost out there in this storm? Thanks a lot.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, her jaw set in a grim line. Then she shook her head. “Fine. Be careful and don’t do anything stupid.”

Not much in the way of a vote of confidence. Brody downed a couple of doughnuts and another cup of coffee before heading outside to get his stuff out of the rental. The wind stole his breath and the sheets of freezing rain made walking a challenge, but he made it to the car and back without killing himself.

By the time he was ready, a guy named Baker who was—according to Mike—a volunteer with the fire department, had handed out location assignments.

“Okay, people,” the guy said. “Most of you know April, but for the few that don’t, just watch for a nine-year-old girl who isn’t safe at home where she belongs. She’s wearing a purple coat, a white hat with a purple pom-pom and pink boots. Let’s bring her home.”

As they filed out of the gym, Brody looked back at Delaney. He caught her watching him, and he raised a hand to say goodbye. She turned away.

* * *

BREAKFAST WAS NOTHING short of a nightmare. Being a short-order cook for a large group of cranky people who hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep was even less fun than registering vehicles for a mob of people who’d forgotten it was the last day of December.

One of the reasons they used the elementary school for the town shelter, rather than the high school, was the fact the kitchen was attached to what they called the gym, but was actually a multi-purpose room that doubled as the cafeteria. With space, a kitchen and restrooms in a central location, it was the perfect space.

What was not perfect was people passing through the line and settling for doughnuts, pastries and cold cereal when there was a fully stocked school kitchen behind them. Some of the women wanted to fire up the stoves and turn the place into the neighborhood diner. Delaney was going to lose her voice explaining over and over why that wasn’t possible.

Lunch would be primarily do-it-yourself sandwiches, but she wasn’t looking forward to supper.

As soon as she could escape the serving line, she brewed more coffee and then grabbed a box of trash bags. There were at least half a dozen garbage barrels in the gym and it seemed as if every time she turned around, they were full again.

It also annoyed Delaney to no end how much she worried about Brody. No matter what she was doing or what minor crisis she was handling, in the back of her mind she was constantly aware of just how long he’d been gone. And it had only been about three hours. Though she didn’t forget he’d been born and raised in Tucker’s Point, she worried five years in warmer climates had made him soft.

“I’m sorry, Delaney.”

She hadn’t even noticed Sandy standing next to her, gently bouncing the baby on her shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have come,” Sandy continued, “but the house was cooling off way too fast and Noah’s too little to weather it out.”

Delaney jerked a full bag out of the garbage can and shoved down on the contents so she could tie it off. “Of course you had to come, Sandy. Don’t even worry about it. If he gets too fussy, we’ll take turns walking him and...well, people are going to have deal, that’s all.”

“Thanks, but I was talking about Brody. I’m sorry for bringing Brody here.”

Delaney sighed and looked at the sleeping baby. Noah looked a lot like Sandy, who looked a lot like Brody. Her heart twisted as she wondered if her and Brody’s babies would have looked like little Noah.

“It’s been five years,” Delaney said in a quiet voice. “And it was inevitable I’d run into him eventually. I’m fine. Really.”

“I wish I could have given you a heads-up, at least.”

Delaney laughed. “Then I might have stayed home and made s’mores over emergency candles and who would be here to take out the garbage?”