Rourke pulled up in the driveway behind the truck. Today, as part of his crime prevention initiative, he had visited the local junior high, and he was dressed accordingly. He believed the police uniform, or even a suit, was a barrier to communicating with kids, so he was wearing loose cargo pants and boots unlaced to the ankles, an oversize jacket and knit cap, and he looked more like a snowboarder than the chief of police. “’S’up?” he said.
“Everything’s up,” she said, gesturing at the loaded truck. “How was your school visit?”
“I think they like me. About a dozen kids signed up for community service projects.”
She couldn’t imagine how anyone, kid or adult, could resist him. Kids could spot a phony a mile off, and Rourke seemed to know that. He was completely at ease in the casual getup. It wasn’t just to patronize the students. “How’d you get so good with kids, Chief?” she asked.
“You listen to them and show respect, and after that, it gets easier. And you’re looking at me funny. Is it the clothes?”
“It’s not the clothes.” She hesitated. What the heck, she thought. “Do you ever wish you had kids of your own?”
He stared at her in astonishment, then burst out laughing.
“I’m not trying to be funny,” she said. “I can’t help but wonder what sort of father you’d make, what sort of family man.”
“No kind of father, and no kind of family man, thank you very much.”
“Oh, come on, McKnight. You’re not the first kid to have a lousy childhood. That’s no excuse.”
“There’s also the small matter of how to acquire those kids you’re so convinced I want. It’s not so easy for a guy.”
The way he was looking at her was way too intimate. “Listen, we really need to have another talk about this…living arrangement. It’s crazy, me staying with you.”
“Why is it crazy?”
“We have no current relationship.”
“Maybe we should,” he said. “Roommates.” He turned away abruptly, going around the back of the truck to check out the work the salvage company had done.
Roommates, thought Jenny. What the heck did he mean by that? She couldn’t figure out a way to ask him, so she changed the subject. “One truckload. Kind of pathetic, huh?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “It’s not pathetic. It’s just something that happens.”
“Pathetic,” she repeated. “How about you let me wallow a little?”
“All right. If it’ll make you feel better.”
“It won’t. But it’ll make you feel worse and that will make me feel better. I’m a taxpayer. It’s the least you can do.”
“Fine.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Seeing this stuff, seeing that it’s all that’s left of your house—makes me feel like shit. Okay?”
A massive four-wheel-drive pickup truck with a snowplow blade pulled up. Out jumped Connor Davis, and then Greg Bellamy. Greg was Philip Bellamy’s youngest brother, which made him Jenny’s uncle, though he was only a few years older than she was. Recently divorced, Greg had moved to Avalon with his two kids, Daisy and Max. Daisy was going to be working at the bakery, Max was in the fifth grade. Like all the Bellamys Jenny had met, Greg had that affable, effortless charm, coupled with the natural good looks of the well-bred. She didn’t feel at all like a Bellamy, and those sunny, upper-crust looks had definitely passed her by. Everyone who had known her mother swore she looked just like Mariska—who of course was beautiful, but in a totally different, dark and earthy way.
“Hey, guys, thanks for coming,” Jenny said.
“No problem at all,” Greg assured her.
As she introduced him to Rourke, she reflected that the three men together—Rourke, Connor and Greg—looked like the kind of fantasy a woman didn’t want to wake up from. Each was tall, strong, sexy. And there was something about the presence of heavy equipment and work to be done outdoors that seemed to cause the testosterone level to rise.
“I really appreciate this,” she said. “Are you sure it’s all right to take all this stuff up to Camp Kioga?”
“Sure,” said Connor. “There’s nothing but space up there, and no one around all winter.”
“Well, I’m grateful. I was going to move everything into the garage, but it was damaged, too, and it’s got to be torn down along with everything else.” She was still a little dazed by the concept of not having a home, no place to park her things, or what was left of them. It was agreed that Connor would drive the pickup to the camp, with Rourke and Jenny following in the panel van. They had to drive the private road to the camp at a crawl, with the plow blades producing founts of snow on either side as it cleared the way.
“I can’t believe how nice everyone’s being,” Jenny said.
“You’re not that hard to be nice to.”
“Is that why you’re helping me? To be nice?”
“I’m not nice,” he said. “You of all people should know that.”
Both of them had made mistakes in the past. Jenny was haunted by regrets, while Rourke still suffered from an old guilt that ran bone deep. That was the reason they’d grown so distant, but since they’d been spending so much time together lately, she felt entitled to bring up old business. “You’ve never forgiven yourself for Joey,” she said, bringing up the sorest of subjects. “What’s it going to take, Rourke?”
He kept his
