Snow Day. Barbara Dunlop
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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?”
“Would you really have avoided him?”
“I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to see him.” Delaney sighed. “Fine, it’s a little hard.”
“At least you didn’t bean him with your clipboard.”
“I thought about it. You know, he’d been acting weird for a couple of weeks before he left.” She gave a derisive snort. “I thought he was working up the nerve to ask me to marry him.”
“Oh, Delaney.” Sandy looked as if she was going to cry, so Delaney focused her attention on putting a fresh bag in the can. “We thought he was going to propose, too.”
“Guess he fooled us all.”
“I don’t think he meant to. Not that it helps any, but I think he was scared and confused.”
She wasn’t really in the mood to hear Brody defended, but Sandy was his sister, after all. Delaney knew she was only trying to help. “It was a long time ago. I’m over it.”
That was a lie, but Sandy was too busy shifting Noah’s weight to her other shoulder to see it on her face. Delaney hadn’t spent the last five years—okay, four and a half years, maybe—pining away for Brody Rollins, but she hadn’t found a man to replace him yet.
She’d dated. She’d even had a couple of relationships that might have grown serious enough to head to the altar and give her the family she wanted if her stupid, stubborn heart had been able to give up on the man who’d broken it.
But, even though she’d met some really nice guys who would have made good husbands, she hadn’t met one yet who made her feel the way Brody had. And, judging by her reaction to being around him, maybe still did.
* * *
THE ONLY THING worse than driving back into Tucker’s Point was riding shotgun around Tucker’s Point during an ice storm. The big plow truck with the massive sand-and-salt hopper on the back went okay, but it was still white-knuckle tense in the cab, especially with a little girl lost.
Brody kept his focus on the passing scenery, eyes peeled for a flash of purple or white or pink, but he saw nothing but the town he’d grown up in. They’d been at it for hours, going around the outskirts since people were searching the main downtown area on foot.
“This is a waste of time,” Mike said, not for the first time. “She’s not going to be walking down the side of the road. She’s hiding somewhere. Taking shelter.”
“You never know what a kid will do. She could be trying to walk home right now.”
“Not giving up. Just think it’s a waste of time. Now we’ve not only got a lost kid, but a whole lot of people who should be safe inside are out looking for her.” He handed his Thermos to Brody, signaling he was ready for another hit of coffee.
He poured Mike half a cup, strong and black, then screwed the lid back on. His brother-in-law was going to start getting jittery soon if he didn’t lay off the caffeine. “Hopefully somebody will find her soon.”
“Yeah. If it was Noah out there...” Mike swallowed some coffee, then shook his head. “I’d want every able-bodied person in the whole state of Maine out looking for him.”
Brody had to agree. He’d only known Noah less than a day and he’d already take on a pack of dragons with nothing but a butter knife for the kid.
“If this gets any worse, we’re going to have to head back,” Mike said in a grim voice. Ice was sheeting over the windshield so fast the defroster and wipers could barely keep up, and the kids could play pond hockey on the streets. “They’ll keep looking. Red’ll be out on Betsy—that John Deere of his—and they’ll keep searching on foot. Some of the guys have ATVs with chains on the tires. They’ll go out.”
Brody could hear the reluctance to give up in Mike’s voice, but he had to agree. Conditions were moving past treacherous and straight into deadly. “It’s like you said. She’s probably hiding somewhere under cover, anyway. It’s the door-to-door searches that’ll turn her up and we don’t want to pull people off that to come rescue us.”
He looked out the window, still looking for a flash of purple, while Mike radioed in for an update and to voice his concerns.
Cased in glittering ice, his hometown looked beautiful and peaceful,