Montana Hero (5 page)

The name never failed to send a little zing through Kat. “His daughter is in Brady’s class. I met his wife at the fair last summer and we’ve talked a couple of times, but you know how it is…there’s only so much time.”
Or not enough time.

“Oh, believe me, I understand. And I don’t expect anyone to do these sorts of things on their own time. If you want to apply for grants or put together something for the Sheriff to take to the Board of Supervisors, I want you to do it on the county’s dime.”

She blinked. “Wow. That’s a complete reversal from the previous administration’s take on the subject. Ken always met me at the door with a stack of paperwork to do ‘before tomorrow’.” She made air quotes.

Flynn’s expression told her his opinion of his predecessor slipped another notch lower.

“For the record,” Kat said, “you’re not planning to go into a life of crime on the side, are you?”

His grin would have made the girl she used to be swoon. “I’ll try my best not to get arrested any time soon.”

He opened the middle drawer and withdrew a business card, which he leaned across the desk to pass to her. “As I mentioned earlier, Tucker Montgomery is building a zip line and endurance course. If I can come up with enough grant money, I want to offer an internship for two or three kids to work there this summer. Tucker will underwrite some of the cost, but he can’t float the whole thing.” His broad shoulders lifted and fell. “He has investors to answer to.”

She studied the card, which included a mug shot of a movie-star handsome, body builder Adonis. “Will the course be kid-friendly?”

“Age eight and up, I think.” His gaze narrowed. “I don’t suppose you have an unrealized urge to write grants, do you?”

“I might. If I could count on your support with my learning garden idea.”

He stood and held out his hand. “You’ve got it.”

She shook his hand as quickly as she could without appearing standoffish. But, honestly, one quick touch tripped a neon sign in her head so bright she didn’t know how he could miss it: “Horny girl lives here. Enquire within.”

Romance novels couldn’t sublimate this bone-deep need completely, but what choice did she have? The chance of her finding a man like her stepfather—someone who embodied the words of his vow “in sickness and in health” to the day he died—probably was on par with finding out her birth father had never known of Kat’s existence and was both shocked and thrilled to welcome his thirty-two-year-old illegitimate child to the fold.

Like that was going to happen.

‡

“K
nock. Knock.”

Flynn looked up from his computer screen.

Only his second day on the job and the knot in his belly had grown to the size of a watermelon. Did the county powers that be really expect him to run this operation with a minimalist budget and no safety net?

Apparently, his predecessor had frittered away whatever cushion Flynn might have been able to count on.
Bastard.

Kat entered, her very presence a breath of fresh air. “Good morning, Katherine. What can I do for you?”

“We have a call.”

He was halfway out of his chair when she held up a hand. “It’s one of our regulars.”

He sat back down. “We have
regular
911 calls?”

Her face scrunched up in the cutest way. Too bad noticing such things made him nearly as unprofessional as the infamous Ken Morrison.

“Molly O’Neal’s cat roams…as cats are wont to do. Only Molly, who is eighty-something and missing a couple of sandwiches for her picnic, if you get my meaning, starts to fret when her cat fails to come home. When Molly starts to fret, she sets out on her motorized cart to find the cat, whose name is Peaches.”

She gave him a droll look. “Don’t ask me why, he’s black and white.”

Flynn couldn’t help but grin.

Her voice faltered for a moment as if she’d lost her train of thought, but she went on a second later. “Anyway, once Molly leaves her driveway, the 911 calls start coming in. People are certain Molly is going to wind up lost, stranded, or in some sort of traffic accident.”

“Got it. We rescue her by helping her back to the house.”

“And we find Peaches, if possible.”

“Good Lord.”

“It’s not that bad. Really. I usually field the call because I took care of my mother who suffered from younger-onset Alzheimer’s for a number of years. I know a few techniques for keeping Molly from freaking out. But, since you said you wanted to be part of all calls…are you free?”

“Are you offering me a reason to break away from this boring budget report? Why, yes, thank you, I am.”

He sprang from his chair and grabbed his jacket. “Do you take a county vehicle?”

“Yes. Usually Janet goes along to drive Molly’s motorized cart back to her house. But, as you probably noticed, Janet called in sick today.”

“I did.” He worked his way around the desk and picked up his red SAR ball cap. “Is she really sick or just using up sick leave until she can retire?”

He could tell the directness of his question surprised her. “Janet hasn’t missed a day since I’ve been here.”

He slipped a set of keys off a hook beside the door. “I’ll take her at her word, then. Change can be stressful for some people. Especially those attached to the past.”

They left the building a few minutes later and got into a four-wheel drive pickup truck. “This Molly person sounds like a real character.”

“She is. One of many. Marietta is filled with them. Have you met OC Jenkins, yet? Some people call him the Fish Whisperer.”

“My brother mentioned him as someone to talk to about teaching a workshop at my after school program. My
future
program,” he added. One of the many things on his To Do list.

She secured her seatbelt then looked at him. Her green eyes sparkled in the clear morning sunlight. “OC would be great at that. My son can be a little standoffish around strange men, but he and OC really hit it off the first time we went to Big Z’s.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“We moved a year ago January.” She held up one hand as if to stop whatever he was about to say. “Everyone told me I was crazy. But I figured if I couldn’t take the coldest month of the year, then I had no business staying.”

He pumped the gas pedal to coax the cold engine into turning over. “Makes perfect sense to me.”

He guessed there was more to her story but she didn’t say anything else. Because it was too personal? Because I’m her boss? Or had she picked up on the attraction he felt toward her and didn’t want to send the wrong message?

And he was attracted to her, damn it. Even getting in a car together seemed like a bad idea in hindsight. As the truck’s heater kicked in, he could smell the hint of vanilla he’d blamed on the doughnuts yesterday.

Keep your eye on the ball, jackass, he silently ordered. He had a million ways to screw up this job—getting involved in a workplace romance hadn’t been on his radar until yesterday.

“Do you know how to get to the old Depot? It’s a brewpub, now,” she asked, sitting forward attentively.

“Yes. Ryker and Mia and I ate there a few nights ago. It was good. Have you been?”

“Not yet. Single mom. Very limited social life, unless school activities count.”

“Tell me about your son. Brady?”

She turned sideways. “Wow. Impressive. I’m awful about remembering names.”

He remembered because he’d spent far too long last night going over everything they said to one another during the intake interview. He’d been impressed by her intelligence and out-of-the-box thinking. She was exactly the kind of employee he’d hoped to have working for him.

Except Flynn would have preferred it if Kat was a guy—someone Flynn could work with mano a mano without eyebrows being raised. Did that sound sexist? Hell, yes. Which meant he had to do everything in his power to keep things strictly professional between them.

“How old?”

“Ten and a half.”

“Fifth grade?”

“Uh-huh.”

“In one of my education classes, I wound up shadowing a grad student who was subbing in a fifth-grade classroom.” He’d never forget the look on the man’s face when he realized he’d completely lost control of the room. “There was a
Lord of the Flies
moment that made me question whether or not fighting fires was safer than teaching.”

Her laugh wrapped him in a warm hug he’d never experienced before. What was it about this woman that made being in her company feel both good and dangerous?

“I’ve had teachers tell me you have to win over that age group’s heart and soul or you don’t stand a chance with them. Brady is not an easy student, so I’ve had a lot of contact with teachers. And principals. And tutors.”

“He sounds like my brother,” Flynn said, turning on Main. “Ryker was a terrible student. Never studied. Skipped every class that didn’t hold his attention. Drove our mother crazy. He would have flunked if he weren’t so damn smart.”

“Your brother? The one engaged to Mia Zabrinski?”

He slowed to let a car back out of a parking spot near the Main Street Diner. His stomach made a low rumble he hoped his passenger didn’t hear. She was the reason he overslept and missed breakfast. Not that he’d ever admit it.

Once they were moving again, he answered. “My only brother. Yes. He told me last night he’d be willing to help with your garden program. Apparently kids and dirt are very photo-friendly.”

She turned in the seat to look at him. “Wow. I could include photos in my grant application. Maybe we could do a video cam with a live feed online, too, once we get the greenhouse built.”

“Yeah. Why not? Setting up a web cam sounds like the sort of job any fifth-grader could do. Me?” He shook his head. “Not so much.”

She started to reply but suddenly grabbed his shoulder and pointed. “There she is. There’s Molly. Oh, good Lord.”

Flynn stomped on the brakes. “Damn,” he muttered. “Is she blind, too?”

A tiny, hunched-back crone with bright purple mittens clasping the handlebars of a candy-apple-red motorized scooter headed straight toward them.

“Honk,” Kat cried, reaching across him to drive the heel of her hand against the center of the steering wheel.

Her shoulder, arm and breast connected with Flynn, who watched, momentarily paralyzed by the shock of white hair flying in the wind. What were the chances…?

The sound of a loud crunch when the scooter plowed into the back quarter panel of a parked Lexus made Kat groan. She sprang into action, prying open her door. “Oh, no. Oh, no. Molly, are you okay?”

The car’s alarm went off, making the woman cover her ears with her purple paws.

Flynn threw the truck into park and hit his emergency flashers. He called for the EMTs before getting out. Why he’d frozen like some first year rookie was beyond him…until he reached the scene, where the elderly woman was giving Kat all kinds of trouble.

Her hair. Silvery white. Styled by the wind and a weed whacker by the looks of it. Just like the old woman in his dream.

“Shit,” he murmured under his breath.
This has gotta stop.

How? He didn’t have a clue.

*

“Molly? Can you
breathe?” Kat asked, gently frisking the tiny woman.

“Of course. I’m alive, aren’t I? Who are you? Where’s Peaches?”

Molly slapped at Kat’s hands.

“Leave me be. I don’t have time for this kind of falderal.”

Kat eased back since Molly wasn’t exhibiting any signs of pain or discomfort. She looked at Flynn, who was now on the scene. In all honesty, his lack of response to Molly’s scooter aiming directly for them had surprised her. For a split second, she swore she saw fear in his eyes.

“How is she?” Flynn had to shout to be heard over the car alarm, which had switched to a shrill whistling sound.

Ears ringing, Kat put her hands to her mouth to answer. “Okay, I think. But compression fractures are common among the elderly. She needs to be checked out.”

Flynn bent down to move Molly’s foot encased in a puffy pink bedroom slipper from the accelerator pedal, and then still squatting at eye level with Molly, turned off the scooter’s motor and plucked the key out of the ignition. “Sorry, Molly. No more driving today.”