Redemption Bay (Haven Point Book 2) (Contemporary Romance) (23 page)

The young reporter didn’t seem to know what to say when the tables were turned. Her mouth opened a little and her gaze shifted away—and landed on something she apparently found far more interesting than any small-town mayor.

“Oh, my word. Isn’t that Aidan Caine?”

McKenzie followed her gaze and spotted Aidan working with his caretaker and a few other men. “Yes. Aidan has a home outside the boundaries of Haven Point.”

“And Ben Kilpatrick is here, too?” she exclaimed with a reverent sort of look at him. “Any other Caine Tech executives out here shoveling sandbags?”

“Not that I’m aware of, no,” McKenzie said as drily as she could manage, considering she was drenched, despite her raincoat.

“You should get sound bites from them,” her cameraman said. “That would make great footage. It might even go national. Billionaire tech executives aren’t too busy to help out flood-threatened small town.”

“Yes!” An almost giddy look crossed the reporter’s perfectly made-up features and she immediately headed toward Aidan without even saying a polite goodbye to McKenzie.

She didn’t care. Let Aidan and Ben handle
all
the media, if they wanted. They were both probably far more experienced at it than she was.

She quickly dismissed the reporter from her mind and went in search of Dale.

After relaying the information from the Corps of Engineers and discussing the latest threat assessment, she decided to spend the few minutes she had until she needed to return to city hall taking bottled water donated by the grocery store to as many volunteers as she could.

Inevitably, it seemed, her path led to Ben and the boys.

“Hi, Kenzie,” Caleb said. “We’re helping Ben.”

“I can see that. Good work, guys. Need some water?”

“I’m so thirsty I’m gonna
die
,” Luke declared.

“We can’t have that. Here you go.”

He took the bottle and took a few swallows, which were apparently all he needed to stave off perishing of dehydration.

“Thanks,” Ben said, taking a bottle from her. “Not the way you expected to be spending the day, I imagine.”

She shook her head. “Nor you. I’m surprised to see you.”

He glanced down at the boys, who weren’t paying any attention to them.

“I can see why you would be, me being a self-absorbed, walled-off billionaire and all.”

Had she really said that to him? She winced, mortified at herself. She should probably apologize but this didn’t seem quite the time. Before she could figure out what to say, he gestured toward the reporter, still standing with her bright red umbrella, trying to get a comment out of Aidan.

“Are you the one who sicced the media on him?”

“No. She spotted him about thirty seconds before I did. It’s apparently big news when the Geek God deigns to walk among us mortal people.”

“Don’t let him hear you call him that. He hates it.”

She could imagine. Aidan was not only brilliant but gorgeous, in a nerdy way that made women swoon.

Not her. Apparently she preferred the brooding Paul Newman sort to sexy intellectuals. Aidan had never done a thing for her, while Ben only had to crack that rare smile for her to turn into mush.

Go figure.

He gave her a careful look. “How are you holding up?”

She gave her best publicly upbeat smile, the one that made her feel as if her teeth were going to fall out from the pressure of gritting them together. “Fine. Just fine.”

“Really?”

He had every reason to be furious with her after their ridiculous fight the night before but somehow here he was, exhibiting a soft compassion that seemed to work its way past all her defenses like water seeping through a wall of sandbags.

“No. Not really. Right about now, I’m asking myself why I was ever crazy enough to agree to run for mayor. Everybody needs me for something, a hundred decisions about things I know nothing about. And whatever decision I end up making, somebody isn’t going to like it and will be ready to throw me into the Hell’s Fury.”

He gave her a solemn look. “Being the one in charge is never comfortable, is it? You can’t keep everybody happy all the time, no matter what you do, so at some point you have to focus on making not the
easy
choice but the right one. Every leader has to face that truth at some point.”

The words resounded in her mind and in her heart as the cold rain battered her.

Hard decisions—like whether to evacuate now or wait until the threat seemed more imminent or whether to build a multi-million-dollar facility in Haven Point—
weren’t
easy.

At some point, the hardest decisions had to be motivated by logic, not emotion, or the world would devolve into chaos. She had seen that amply demonstrated that difficult day.

“You’re right,” she began, but before she could continue, her phone rang. She pulled it out and saw by the caller ID it was from Cade Emmett.

“I need to take this. It’s Chief Emmett. I’m sorry.”

He waved a hand. “I need to get back to supervising my team.”

By
team
she assumed he meant Caleb and Luke Keegan, which she found rather adorable.

“Thank you for helping, especially when you don’t have to.”

“In this case, logic had nothing to do with it,” he said quietly, giving her that rare smile before turning back to the job.

CHAPTER TWENTY

S
HE
WAS
SO
TIRED
, she wanted to sink into her bed and not crawl out again for days.

As McKenzie drove up to her house, the dashboard clock on her SUV read 12:56 a.m.

The worst of the crisis had passed. They were calling it the July Miracle in the media. Twelve houses and four businesses sustained minor flooding but a combination of the sandbags, geography and a healthy dose of luck had kept it from being much, much worse.

The Elkwood Dam had indeed failed—not completely but enough that other towns upriver from Haven Point were flooded before the Corps of Engineers was able to contain the situation and divert most of the flow through another channel.

The Hell’s Fury was still running high and fast and probably would be for several days. Since the rain had finally stopped several hours ago, there was hope that most of the flow would run into the lake and then back through the Hell’s Fury outlet on the other side without causing significant damage along the way.

She hadn’t wanted to leave the emergency command center at city hall but the overnight crew monitoring the situation had promised to contact her if the situation changed. Nobody expected it to but she intended to sleep with her cell phone on her pillow next to her, anyway.

Sleep. The very idea of it was seductive. A few hours and perhaps she might feel human again instead of gritty and achy and exhausted.

As she pulled into her driveway, light spilled from a few windows at Ben’s house next door and she wondered for a fleeting moment if he had been waiting for her, to make sure she made it home safely. Even if the idea was completely crazy, it still warmed her.

He had to be exhausted, too. All that day, he seemed to be everywhere she turned around—filling sandbags, loading them, handing out sandwiches and bags of chips to volunteers.

He had worked as hard as anyone that day—all for a town he claimed meant nothing to him.

Actions speak louder than words, Kilpatrick,
she thought as she turned off her motor and headed for the house.

She let herself in, bracing for the frenzied gyrations of a dog who had been on her own entirely too long. In the midst of all the chaos, she had sent Kaylee, her high school employee at the flower shop, to let Rika out and give her food and water around dinnertime—but that had nearly been eight hours earlier. She should have asked Ben to check on the dog. He knew where the key was, after all.

She was a terrible pet owner and apparently she was being punished for it by a pouting poodle.

“Rika? Honey? I’m sorry, sweetie. Come.”

No excited dog came racing to greet her—or even gave one of those disdainful sounds the poodle could make when she was annoyed.

The house echoed with emptiness. Where was she? Worried now, McKenzie walked through the house turning on lights.

“Rika?”

Perhaps Kaylee had forgotten to let the dog back in and she was waiting impatiently outside. She headed toward the backyard, then stopped, her hand frozen on the slider. It was slightly ajar, just wide enough for a thin, gangly standard poodle to squeeze through.

Her heart started to pound and her knees suddenly felt shaky.

Could Kaylee have left it unlatched, enough that Rika could nudge it open and head outside?

She slid open the door, hoping against hope her dog would come trotting inside, wet and goofy and happy to see her. Only a few moths flew around the security light. The yard was empty.

“Rika,” she called softly. “Come on, girl.”

No cinnamon poodle came bounding toward her. Her insides churned.

“Rika,” she tried again. “Here, girl. Come on.”

Still no response. She glanced over at the light on next door, torn. Perhaps Ben had seen something. Perhaps he let the dog out with the key under the planter and hadn’t latched the screen tightly. Maybe right now she was curled up with Hondo on the rug next door, waiting for McKenzie to come home.

Though she didn’t want to disturb him this late, she had to know.

Before she reached his terrace, he opened the door and walked outside.

“Something wrong?” he called softly.

“Rika’s gone.”

She didn’t bother to hide the panic from her voice. It seemed an indescribable relief to share the worry with him as it seemed suddenly too great to bear by herself after everything she had been through that day. “The patio door was ajar and I think she must have slipped out. She’s not over with you and Hondo, is she?”

He walked closer and she saw his hair was damp and he wore a pair of Levi’s, unbuttoned at the top. “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t see her when I returned about an hour ago. I let Hondo out when I got home and he didn’t bark or anything to indicate he saw her, but she’s probably not far. We can help you look for her.”

She wanted so much to lean on him, to let him carry the weight of this worry. How could she ask it, when he had been working so hard that day for her town?

“Thank you. I really appreciate it but it’s late and I know you must be tired.”

“We’ll help you look for her,” he said firmly. “I just need to throw on some shoes.”

She looked down at his feet, pale in the moonlight. A man’s bare feet seemed such a vulnerable thing, for some reason.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “She never, ever runs off—but then, I never leave her alone all day.”

She probably ought to just tell him they could look for Rika in the morning. She would probably be okay until daylight, when it would be much easier to find her.

Then McKenzie thought of the high waters of the Hell’s Fury, of traffic on rain-slick streets and a hundred other dangers a dog on her own might face out there.

She had to look. What choice did she have?

“Maybe we should split up,” she suggested when Ben came back wearing shoes and grabbing his phone and keys off the little table in the foyer.

He gave her a careful look. “Under the circumstances, I would feel better if we stuck together. You look like you’re ready to fall over and I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you driving on your own.”

She couldn’t deny some measure of truth in that. Adrenaline and fear spread a thin layer of energy over her exhaustion but she knew it was as crackly and fragile as November ice. The day had been draining, emotionally and physically, and this new stress seemed beyond her capability right now.

She was so very tired of solving all the problems in town. Right now, she wanted to let him take charge. That very desire made her nervous. How very foolish it would be to lean on a man who would be leaving as soon as he could arrange it.

“I should be okay,” she said with a conviction she didn’t really feel.

“Humor me, then. I’ve had a long day and I have a strong suspicion we’ll both be better together tonight than we are apart.”

With a pang in her heart, she acknowledged the truth of that—though she couldn’t help wishing that could be true for more than only tonight while they looked for her dog.

“I suppose you’re right,” she answered.

“I’ll drive and you and Hondo can be the lookouts.”

She nodded and followed him through the cool darkness to his SUV, Hondo trotting along as if they were all heading on a grand adventure.

As soon as she was strapped into her seat belt, Ben reached across the vehicle and squeezed her fingers.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find her. I’m sure she’s fine.”

She took great comfort from his confidence. He knew what the dog meant to her, her last gift from her father. Rika had been a comfort and a joy, her dearest companion, and she didn’t know what she would do without her. Somehow McKenzie had a feeling she would need the dog’s quiet, calm companionship in the days ahead after Ben left Haven Point, while she tried to figure out how to move forward with part of her heart missing.

They had to find the dog. She wasn’t sure she could bear losing both of them at the same time.

“I can’t thank you enough,” she murmured.

He squeezed her fingers again and didn’t move his hand as he backed out of the driveway and began the search.

* * *

F
INDING
A
SINGLE
DOG
in the middle of the night when they had no idea where to start—or even how long she had been gone—wasn’t as easy in practice as he might have guessed.

They had driven through every street in town, into the Eagle Crest subdivision, along the still-swollen Hell’s Fury, even in the foothills outside of town filled with sprawling ranches.

He drove slowly with the windows down and the cool night air blowing in. Hondo had his head out, tongue lolling. Several times, Ben had told him to find Rika, but he wasn’t sure how much the German shepherd understood. For all Hondo probably knew, they were all out having a good time together, on a pleasant moonlit drive through town.

McKenzie’s dog could be anywhere. She could have run into the mountains or she could be curled up on somebody’s back porch or she could be exploring the Boy Scout camp on the other side of the lake.

For all he knew, she could have run all the way to Shelter Springs.

McKenzie was growing increasingly worried. He could feel the tension radiating off her in waves. Shadows pooled beneath her eyes and her mouth was tight with fatigue and strain.

“This is crazy,” she finally said. “It’s after two-thirty. We can’t keep this up all night. Let’s go get some sleep and I’ll call in Lindy-Grace to open for me at the store tomorrow so I can mount a search party with friends.”

That was the smart, logical decision. They seemed to be spinning their wheels, wandering aimlessly through the night. If he were the cold, unfeeling businessman she accused him of being, he would seize the chance to be done with this—for her sake, if nothing else. She would make herself sick with worry. She needed rest, especially after the long, difficult day.

He almost turned the vehicle around and headed back home. He even slowed down to pull into the nearest driveway but something made him keep going.

Some decisions needed to be made with the gut, not with logic.

The realization seemed to echo through his mind as he continued driving toward the downtown of Haven Point, with its peeling paint and shuttered businesses.

Every single point of logic he had researched in the past few weeks told him unequivocally that Haven Point wasn’t the best location for a new Caine Tech facility. Financially, logistically, geographically, it made absolutely no sense.

After today—after working side by side with the people of his hometown, seeing their caring for each other and the lengths they went to watch out for each other—he was beginning to question that analysis.

He had seen the town in a completely different light. In a crisis, everyone had come together. Children. Senior citizens. Teenagers. All pitching in to help their neighbors.

McKenzie was right. There was something very special about this town and the people who lived in it.

Logic might insist the company would be strategically smarter to simply expand existing infrastructure of their Portland facility. But sometimes a person had to throw logic out the window and go with his gut.

As he drove through the darkened streets past the houses of people who had fought so hard to help their neighbors that long day, he had the strangest feeling that Haven Point and Caine Tech would be a perfect fit.

Haven Point
needed
the new Caine Tech facility. More important, something told him Caine Tech needed the people of Haven Point just as much, for their determination and their heart.

That was exactly what he would report to Aidan and the board.

He opened his mouth to tell McKenzie, then closed it again. Not yet. He could make the recommendation and the board could still go in another direction. He didn’t want to raise false hope—beyond that, she didn’t need more emotional upheaval tonight, when she was so worried about her beloved dog.

She would find out later, when he could be more sure what the final decision would be.

“Really, Ben. Let’s go home. We’ve driven through here twice already.”

He glanced over at her, worried about the lines of fatigue around her mouth. He wanted to tuck her against him and hold her while she slept.

“We’ll look for twenty more minutes. If we can’t find her in that time, I’ll take you home so you can try to sleep for a few hours.”

She nodded, swallowing hard, then turned to look out the window. Unable to help himself, he reached for her fingers again, which he had somehow lost hold of during the search. She gave a weak little smile and squeezed his hand and they drove that way, connected skin to skin.

On a hunch, he turned toward the downtown area. If he was going to go with his gut about the Caine Tech facility, he might as well trust his instincts about this.

He slowed down when he reached Point Made Flowers and Gifts. The dog came here each day with McKenzie. Maybe some instinct, some internal compass, had led her back here. He parked and turned off the engine. Hondo immediately went to the side of the vehicle closest to the storefront, his head out the SUV window, and barked once, then again.

The entryway to her store was in shadows but he thought he saw movement there in the depths. An instant later, they heard an answering bark and a shape emerged from the darkness into the glow from the little antique-looking streetlights.

“Rika!” McKenzie exclaimed. The joy in her voice touched a deep chord inside him.

She thrust open her door and rushed out just as her funny, gangly dog bolted over to her, fluffy tail wagging furiously.

“There you are! Where have you been? Oh, sweetheart!”

The dog barked in excitement and Hondo was trying to squeeze through the window to join in the fun. Ben opened the door for him and the shepherd and the poodle had an equally joyous reunion.

“I don’t understand,” McKenzie said. “We already drove past here twice and she wasn’t anywhere to be found.”

“Maybe she was looking for you while you were looking for her and we kept missing each other.”