Mark’s gaze met Riley’s—briefly—but enough for her cheeks to warm. He’d picked her out of the crowd almost as soon as he’d taken his chair on the platform with the mayor, his former fire chief, Jay’s parents, and a few other officials. Now he stood, his dress shirt and tie visible under his jacket, a black knit cap not quite covering his dark hair. He lowered his head, as if considering his next words. Riley’s heart pounded with anxiety for him.
He lifted his head. “The truth is, that day in the fire, I wasn’t thinking about being a hero. I was scared. But I followed Jay.”
His eyes met hers again, and she knew he was reaching for her. For a friend. She nodded. He took a breath.
“I followed Jay and borrowed his strength and his courage because he stopped at nothing—nothing—to get these boys”—he gestured to the six boys standing in front of the memorial—“to safety. To get them out. He paid the ultimate sacrifice, and I can tell you he’d do it again. I know he would. He was driven to keep people safe.” He raised his chin. “‘Courage is knowing what not to fear.’ Plato said that. Jay lived it. He was my friend. My brother.”
He bit his lip, and Riley felt his struggle with his emotions. Then he leaned toward the microphone one more time.
“He’s my hero.” He pulled back from the podium, and the crowd applauded, Riley clapping with them.
Mark lifted his hand to the six boys, who each held a cord attached to the veil. They pulled at the signal, revealing a tall, redbrick pillar with a bronze plaque on the front. An image of Jay in his fire hat had been made in relief above his name and dates, and the quote Mark had just shared.
Mark stepped to the microphone. “I know you’re all freezing, but thanks for being here today. The people of Miracle Creek have a way of driving out the cold.” He sat, and, after the applause died down, the mayor said a few words.
Riley swallowed when Mark’s eyes found her again. She gave him two thumbs-up. He ducked his head, and she knew he smiled.
“He did a great job,” came a voice close to her ear.
Riley turned to see Dalton just behind her. “Yes, he did.” She suppressed the warning she felt rising inside her. Dalton hadn’t made any more advances toward her, and any interactions at work had been respectful.
He folded his arms, leaning forward to speak quietly as the mayor wrapped up. “Must’ve been tough for him.”
“He missed the funeral. I think this was something like that for him.”
“Oh, yeah, that too.”
She looked at him. “That, too?”
Dalton frowned. “Oh, of course. I was thinking of, you know, being in front of a crowd like this. I mean, there are a lot more people here than in line at the bakery.”
“I don’t follow you.” She suspected she did, but he couldn’t be saying what she thought he was saying.
“He’s just come a long way. You know, in showing himself.”
The rising warning turned to irritation.
He shrugged. “I suppose that has a lot to do with you. You have a way of making people want to be better. Try harder.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, and he smiled, almost humbly.
People were starting to mill around now, the ceremony over. She noted a few people watching her and whispering behind their hands. “Speaking of making people want to try harder,” he said. “I was hoping I could make good on that promise I made you.”
She searched for Mark in the crowd. He was surrounded by the rescued boys and their families. “What promise?”
“To get to know you better. Sort of a do-over.”
She turned to him, genuinely surprised.
“I meant what I said that night, Riley.” He took a step closer. “I’d like to do less talking, more listening. Maybe take you to the firemen’s ball next week?” He raised his brow expectantly, his confident grin growing.
Riley took a step back. As much as she suspected his sincerity, the idea of sharing the things in her head and in her heart with Dalton made her wall go right up. “The do-over is that we’re still civil after that night. I believe you mean well, Dalton, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to be anything other than colleagues.”
His grin faded. “You don’t.”
She shook her head. “Thank you for asking.”
He frowned but nodded. “I understand. Maybe I’m a little relieved. It’s hard to measure up to someone like Gavin Darrow.”
Riley froze.
“Explains a lot about your interest in Rivers, too.”
She spied Mark talking to Jay’s parents and to Nate and Gus. He caught her gaze and tossed her a wink. She swallowed.
“I don’t even want to know what you mean by that,” she said to Dalton.
“I mean that Rivers is your rebound. He’s safe. I’m hoping you’ll consider me as someone on a level between movie star and . . . ex-fireman.”
She frowned at him. “Mark isn’t a rebound. And I’m starting to think you’re more on the movie star’s level.”
Dalton studied her. “It’s true, then.”
“What’s true?”
“You and Rivers being a thing.”
Her pulse picked up. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want his speculation. “Are you listening to small-town rumors, Dalton?”
He laughed. “It’s true you’ve got the town buzzing. But, no. I know better than that. This came from the man himself.”
“What do you mean?” A knot tightened in her chest, and she glanced around, noting they’d drawn some judgmental looks from people in the crowd.
“Mark made it pretty clear to me that you and he had been getting on very well, if you know what I mean. I just had a hard time believing it.”
She swallowed hard, trying to wrap her head around what he was saying. “Can you
