“We’ll need their names for commendations,” Tom said. “The community should recognize that kind of courage.”
“That would be wonderful,” Lucy agreed, then yawned widely. “Excuse me, goodness.”
“You’re exhausted,” Tom observed. “How long have you been working?”
“Only about sixteen hours,” Lucy said with a rueful laugh. “But I was up most of last night helping Lacey with a difficult foaling. One of the horses at the sanctuary was having complications.”
“Lacey’s back in town?” Tom asked, surprised. Lucy’s twin sister was a wildlife veterinarian who usually spent summers traveling between different conservation projects.
“Lacey arrived two days ago.” Lucy nodded. “She had to come back early because Dr. Harris got transferred to California unexpectedly. We’re losing so many professionals lately.”
“The whole town is struggling with staffing,” Tom agreed. “We need to find ways to attract new people here, especially young professionals.”
“Maybe we should put Mina Dillinger in charge of recruitment,” Lucy suggested with a smile. “She did an amazing job bringing Willa’s family and Rad here.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Tom said thoughtfully. “Your nephew’s the mayor, maybe we could bring it up at the next town council meeting.”
“I’d love to see this place become more vibrant again,” Lucy said, standing and immediately wincing as her back protested. “We have so much to offer, but people don’t know about us.”
“Yes, the town once boomed, and then it seemed like a lot of people left,” Tom said with a deep sigh. “We definitely need something to boost our town again.”
“There’s blood on your bandage,” Lucy said suddenly, her medical instincts overriding everything else as she moved closer to examine his head wound.
Tom felt his pulse quicken at her proximity, the familiar scent of her perfume mixed with antiseptic bringing back memories he’d tried to bury for decades.
“I’m pretty filthy from the fire scene,” Tom said, stepping back slightly. “I still need to shower and change.”
“Why don’t you go get cleaned up,” Lucy suggested, her professional demeanor not quite hiding the concern in her eyes.“I’ll do the same, and I’ll stop by your room on my way back to the clinic to check your stitches.”
“Are you sure?” Tom asked. “I don’t want to impose when you’re already exhausted.”
“It’s no imposition,” Lucy assured him. “Besides, head injuries can be tricky. Better safe than sorry.”
“All right then,” Tom agreed, feeling something ease in his chest for the first time all day. “I believe your room is just a few doors down from mine.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Lucy confirmed. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes to get presentable.”
As they walked toward the stairs together, Tom found himself remembering what it felt like to have someone genuinely care about his well-being. Not because it was their job or because it served their interests, but simply because they cared about him as a person.
At Lucy’s door, he turned to face her, noting the way the soft hallway lighting caught the silver in her hair and the gentle lines around her eyes that spoke of years spent smiling.
“Lucy,” he said quietly, “I’m looking forward to our dinner tomorrow night.”
“So am I,” Lucy replied, her voice dropping to that intimate tone he remembered from their teenage years. “It’s been far too long since we really talked.”
“Fifteen minutes,” Tom confirmed, reluctantly stepping back as Lucy opened her door.
“I’ll see you soon,” Lucy said with a smile that made his heart race like he was eighteen again.
As Tom walked the few steps to his own room, he felt lighter than he had in months. Tomorrow night, he would have dinner with the woman who’d held his heart for over forty years. Tonight, she would tend to his injury with the same gentle competence she brought to everything in her life.
For the first time in a very long time, Tom Morrison allowed himself to hope that some mistakes could be corrected, and some chances were worth taking, no matter how much time had passed.
16
HOLT
The morning sun streamed through the windows of the Sandpiper Shores Police Station as Holt settled into the small office Chief Morrison had arranged for him. The desk was cluttered with case files from the catastrophe ten years ago and the previous night’s fire. A fresh cup of coffee steamed beside his laptop. Despite the early hour, Holt felt more energized than he had in weeks. Having a purpose again, something concrete to focus on, was exactly what he needed.
