No Sunshine When She's Gone (25 page)

The sacrifices people made for their pets, Jill mused, as she pulled up at the gate to the construction site four days later. Every one was worth it.

Her heart quickened with anticipation. Her promotional plan was in place. Today would prove as exciting as the ground-breaking ceremony. She’d sent out a press release. Reporters were on-site.

The masonry workers would soon pour the long, winding sidewalk around the perimeter of the stadium. Fans would then be allowed to leave their footprints for future generations.

A fan walkway was innovative. It had never been done at any spring-training facility. This would be a first.

James Lawless had approved her request without hesitation. He’d given her kudos. Mike Burke had raised both eyebrows and sucked air when he’d learned of the promotional event. The man was in charge. Decisions had to be made quickly. He’d come around.

There would be an honorary plaza for the Rogues’ footprints next spring. They deserved their own special ceremony.

Mike approached her the second she stepped from the SUV. “The crowd’s getting antsy,” he said. “The first cement truck is in place and the concrete finishers are eager to get started. Once the ’crete is poured, they will smooth the top layer. It’s quick-drying, so we need to move fast. Fifty fans will line up at a time to leave their footprints.”

“You’re very organized,” Jill complimented.

“It’s all Carrie.” He gave the credit where credit was due. “She’s handing out pencils so everyone can add their name, too. Carrie will write
Rogues Number-One Fans
at the start of the sidewalk.”

Jill nodded her approval. “I want to leave a space for Aidan’s footprints,” she told Mike. “A square of cement can be poured at a later date.”

“The man wanted smooth and we’re giving him heels and toes and signatures.”

“I’ll take any and all blame.”

“I’ll be the first to point my finger at you.”

Jill couldn’t help but grin. “I’m sure you will.”

“Let’s get to it,” Mike said.

“I’d like Sadie’s paw prints for posterity,” Jill decided on the spot.

Mike rolled his eyes. “I’ll hold her, and you can press down on her paws. Two men are standing by with hoses to wash excess concrete from shoes. We’ll clean Sadie’s feet, too.”

“Then I’ll put her in the trailer. It’s too hot for her to be outside.”

“You’re such a mom.”

The expansion of the cardiac care unit in Tampa was moving forward without a hitch. Aidan Cates was pleased to see the progress. He signed off on his inspection. The superintendent was competent and would bring the project in early. Guy Clarion would earn a bonus.

“Hey, boss, come into my office. You’ve got to see this,” Guy called out when Aidan stopped by the administrative trailer. He’d wrapped things up earlier than planned. He was ready to head home; ready to see Jillian Mac. He also missed his dog.

“What’s up?” Aidan asked from the doorway.

Guy had turned on the television and was flipping through the channels. “I just caught the end of a news segment, and hoped to hear the story on another channel,” he told Aidan. “You’re getting some major press.” He paused on ABC. “A newscaster was reporting from the spring-training facility.”

The reporter was animated. “Richmond Rogues and Cates and Burke General Contractors have come together to please their ticket holders,” he said. “A pathway of fan footprints circling the stadium has created quite a buzz. This is an amazing tribute to those who support the team. Contractor Mike Burke and community liaison Jillian Mac spearheaded the event. It’s a day to remember.”

The announcer chuckled. “Even Aidan Cates’s dog got in on the action.” Footage from earlier in the day was shown.

Aidan stared as Sadie set her paw prints. He swore his dog smiled. So much for his smooth sidewalk, he thought. Once again, Jill had thrown a curveball into his life.

He stuck his hand in the pocket of his sport coat, where he carried the crystal softball. He squeezed it hard, then unclenched his fingers. His jaw worked and he released his breath. His stress slowly evaporated.

Did he care? he asked himself. Not nearly as much as he thought he might. The lady was creative. He had to give her that.

The reporter returned to the moment at hand. The cameraman now panned the long length of sidewalk. Cement trucks were still lined up. People continued to press their footprints in the concrete. Those gathered were sunburned and laughing. Their excitement was tangible.

“Great move, Aidan,” Guy complimented from behind his desk. “That’s a feel-good broadcast. Fan appreciation is key. You’ve got your own Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. Affiliates all across the country will pick up the piece. Cates and Burke is about to become a household name. You’ve shown goodwill.”

Aidan thought about Jill on his drive back to Barefoot William. He had two hours to get her straight in his mind. There’d be no further ultimatums. She’d come to him in her own time. All he could do was wait for her to realize that she liked him back. He believed he would hear her words. He believed they had something special. Jill was close to realizing that, too.

It was after eight when he hit the outskirts of Barefoot William. The construction site was slightly out of his way, but he wanted to see the sidewalk before he saw Jill.

Mike Burke’s Porsche was parked at the trailer. Aidan went and got his partner. He wanted Mike to know he was proud of his decision.

Mike was at his desk, working at the computer. Aidan cleared his throat and Mike cut him a look. “You here to chew me out?” Mike asked, shutting down the screen.

“You’ve already had your nuts twisted.” He couldn’t help but smile. “Carrie and Jill can be persuasive when they set their minds to it. I had a text from James Lawless. A cost addendum will be added to the contract for overtime.”

“The cement truck operators and concrete masons chalked it up. There’ll be no additional charges. Many of the workers are from Barefoot William. Jill promised them spring-training tickets. Everyone was happy.”

“I want to see the sidewalk,” said Aidan.

“Walk or ride?” asked Mike.

The stadium was a mile away. Aidan chose to walk. He needed the exercise and fresh air. The electrical poles were up and spotlights illuminated the grounds. He and Mike had time to talk.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“It’s going,” Mike answered. “Today was disruptive, but we’re on schedule. I’d like to stay ahead of the game, in case Jill and Carrie come up with further promotions.”

Mike ran one hand down his face. “You should’ve seen Shaye and Trace doing their footprints. Pretty damn funny. They faced each other, so their prints were set in opposite directions. Dune took dozens of pictures. You’re looking at tiny and gigantic when you see his feet beside his wife, Sophie’s.”

“Then there was Sadie,” said Aidan.

“Don’t sweat any bullets, we were careful with her,” Mike stated. “Jill was her protector. We got all traces of cement off her paws. Swear.”

Mike picked up a rock, tossed it across the lot. “Carrie and I did our footprints, too.”

“What about Jill?”

“She waited for you to return. There’s a square of cement yet to be poured.”

Aidan’s chest warmed, expanded. He liked that she’d held back. The sidewalk stretched just ahead. Approaching, he understood the commotion. The community had come together. Baseball was the all-American pastime. Enthusiasm for the sport was evident in each set of fan footprints. He was responsible for building the stadium. But Jill would fill the seats. They were a team.

He and Mike walked the length of the sidewalk. Aidan recognized nearly every name, so many were relatives and extended family. Even his Grandfather Frank had come out for the occasion. A widower, Frank seldom left his house. Yet he was fond of baseball.

“Let’s head back,” Aidan said when they came to the end of the sidewalk, which could be extended at any time.

Mike walked beside him. “Life is good,” he said. “I still can’t believe I met my future wife at a barbecue.”

“You were a total ass that night.”

“Carrie makes me want to be a better person.”

“You were always a good guy,” Aidan said, “if first impressions could be overlooked.”

His cell phone rang, and he removed it from his pants pocket. He glanced at the screen. “Incoming psycho,” he muttered. Mike looked at him questioningly. “Psycho McMillan,” he iterated. To answer or not to answer? That was the question. “Aidan Cates,” he finally said.

“I can’t reach my sister.” The man didn’t believe in hello. “She’s not answering her phone.”

“Maybe she turned it off.”

“Or maybe something’s happened to her.”

That thought bothered Aidan. He kept his concern to himself. “Your sister is living on a houseboat with an alarm system that would waken the dead. Her weapon of choice is a baseball bat.”

“Go by the houseboat and check on her.”

“I can and I will. She’s been babysitting my dog. I need to pick Sadie up.”

“Get a move on, contractor.” Psycho hung up.

Aidan stared at the phone for several seconds before putting it back in his pocket. “He’s going to be a meddling brother-in-law.”

Mike didn’t seem surprised by his comment. He grinned. “Carrie told me that Jill and Psycho were related. He will always look out for his sister.”

“To be expected.” Aidan picked up his pace. “Psycho could be an alarmist or a matchmaker. Either way, I’m headed to the Horizon.”

“I need to lock up the trailer, and I’m gone, too.”

Both men left within a few minutes of each other.

Parking places were limited at Land’s End. Aidan parked a block away. He jogged to the houseboat. The blinds were pulled, but the lights were on inside. He climbed the boarding ladder and banged on the door. No answer. He turned the knob—it was unlocked. He entered.

The Horizon seemed unusually warm. The sound of water running came from the bath. He wandered down the hall. He listened and heard, “
Breathe,
Sadie. Deep breaths, girl. Don’t give up. You can do it.”

Aidan’s heart nearly stopped. It appeared his dog wasn’t breathing. Was Sadie giving up the ghost? He knew canine CPR. He’d taken a course when he’d adopted the pointer. He rushed into the bathroom. Right into a sauna.

The heat and steam stopped him cold. The shower ran full blast, and the curtain was partially pulled back. A towel had been spread where the water splashed and puddled on the floor.

Jill sat on her knees, her back to the wall. Her hair was wet and stuck to her forehead and the sides of her face. Her white tank top stuck to her breasts. Her blue boy-shorts hugged her hips. She braced Sadie, who stood on wobbly legs. His pointer drooled and her fur was damp. She now breathed without difficulty. Both of them looked bedraggled.

He took it all in, relieved the situation wasn’t dire. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Jill rose slowly. And Sadie sat down. His dog sneezed. Jill wiped her nose with a paper towel. “We’re nebuliz-ing,” she told him. “Dr. Schober’s orders. I had to call him the first night you left town. I’d taken Sadie for a walk, and she got very congested. Your vet suggested steam to clear her sinuses. It works well. I give her treatments three times a day. They last an hour.”

He now knew why she hadn’t answered her phone. She’d been busy taking care of his dog. “Psycho tried to reach you,” he told her. He slipped her his cell phone. “Call him.”

She did. “I’m fine, love you, too,” was short and sweet before she disconnected. She handed back his phone. “You’re sweating,” she said to him. “Give us five more minutes, and we’ll be done.”

“I’d rather stay here with you.”

She patted her clothes hamper. “Have a seat.”

He eased down on the wicker top, hoping it would support his weight. “You’re amazing, Jillian Mac,” he said, and meant it. “Thank you for taking good care of Sadie.”

“She’s had her moments, but pulled through. She’ll be glad to go home with you tonight.”

“It’s good to be back in town.”

“Was your trip to Tampa successful?”

“The cardiac center is coming along nicely.” He paused, pursed his lips. “But not as well as the sidewalk at the stadium.”

“You’ve heard?”

“And seen,” he said. “I stopped by the site on my way here.”

Perspiration ran down her forehead, and she wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “The idea came to me the day you left town,” she explained. “I had to act fast. The sidewalk was scheduled to be poured. Carrie and I worked our butts off to meet the deadline. Community cooperation was phenomenal.”

“So I saw on the news.”

“Not the best way to find out, was it?”

“A text might have been nice.”

“You left Mike in charge.”

Aidan was thoughtful. “He handled the situation much as I would have.”

“Honestly?” Her eyes were wide.

“I’m not the one who stretches the truth.”

She bit down on her bottom lip. “What do you think of the fans’ footprints?”

“I like it enough to add a wall for handprints to a children’s cancer clinic we’ll be building next year in Orlando. A celebration of connecting hands for the cure.”

“That would be beautiful.”

“I have you to thank for the idea.”

Sadie started getting restless. She wiggled away from Jill and came to him. He hugged her, damp fur and all. She sighed with contentment.

Jill rose, turned off the shower. Then wiped up the remaining water on the floor. Aidan opened the door and the hot air ran out behind them as they left the bath. Jill turned on the ceiling fans and the air stirred, cooling the living room.

“I should get going,” he said. She hadn’t asked him to stay, and he didn’t want to prolong his departure. His hands itched to touch her. He wanted to pull her close, kiss her until she melted against him. They’d yet to make love under the sea.

“I’ll pack up Sadie’s food.” Jill filled a paper bag with the leftovers. “I bought her a new tennis ball and tug toy that squeaks.”

No other woman had bought his dog toys.

She looked from Sadie to the brown paper sack and therapeutic bed. “Where are you parked?”