before Sadie took off, Chance had almost kissed her. And he suspected that if it weren’t for that moment of weakness, if he hadn’t confused her, she might have gone through with the wedding and Noah might still be alive. Noah’s death was utterly senseless. He’d left Comfort Creek to go lick his wounds, and while he was stationed overseas, he’d been shot in a routine exercise by friendly fire. Where was the meaning in that?
“Chief?” Both Mayor Scott and Sadie were looking at him now. He’d been silent for a few beats, and he inwardly grimaced.
“Yes, sir, of course,” Chance replied with a nod. “We’re all professionals.”
“Great.” The mayor beamed one of those politically golden smiles of his, and folded his hands in front of him. “Because this remembrance ceremony is important to our entire town. These young men were ours, and we are forever indebted to them for the freedom we enjoy. I want this ceremony to reflect our gratefulness, and our respect. Comfort Creek sent them out with fanfare, and we will never forget—” The older man’s voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, and blinked back a mist of tears. “I know you feel the same.”
Mayor Scott had three pictures around the office of his son, Ryan, ranging in age from his first day of kindergarten to him as a fully grown man in army dress uniform. Chance had the same kinds of photos around his home: the picture of him and his brother as kids, arms around each other’s shoulders as they squinted into the camera on some family vacation; the snapshot from his graduation from police academy where his brother was giving him a noogie; the picture of Noah in army uniform, duffel bag at his feet. It was hard to encapsulate an entire person in a few pictures, but he’d tried nonetheless. It was as if the pictures helped to hold those memories together, remind the world that this man had mattered.
“I appreciate this opportunity, Mayor Scott,” Sadie said. “We’ll put together a program that honors these men and their families. You’ve lost more than we can comprehend, sir.”
“So has Chance,” the mayor said with a nod. “Ryan and Noah, Terrance and Michael—they all deserve to be remembered.” He glanced at his watch. “I apologize for doing this, but I have a meeting in about ten minutes with the ladies complaining about noisy garbage collection.” He tapped a pen on a pad of paper. “So let’s meet next week and see where we are. I’ve already gone over some of my expectations with Miss Jenkins, and I’m sure she can fill you in, Chance.”
So that’s where things stood—the mayor was now planning this event with Sadie. While he’d never been keen on doing this ceremony, he didn’t like being squeezed out, either.
Chance rose and gave a curt nod. “I’m sure she can.”
He hoped his dry tone wasn’t as obvious to them as it was to himself. Sadie gathered up some papers and tucked them into a leather bag, then rose, too.
“Thank you, sir,” Sadie said with a smile, but it slipped when she saw Chance’s expression. Her hazel gaze met his for a split second, and then she looked away. He could tell that he was making her uncomfortable, but she didn’t deserve all the blame.
“We’ll talk later, sir,” Chance said with a sigh, then pulled open the door and gestured for Sadie to go ahead of him. He wasn’t a complete Neanderthal.
Chance shut the door behind him, and as he passed Brenda’s desk, she mouthed “sorry” at him. She’d known exactly what had been waiting for him in there, and she hadn’t given him any warning. It wasn’t her fault, though. Like Sadie, apparently, her loyalties were with the man who paid her. He gave her a small smile and tapped her desktop lightly with this tips of his fingers in reply as he walked past. It wasn’t full-out forgiveness, just acknowledgment of her tough position.
They paused at the coatrack and took their coats. She had a gray, woolen dress coat that came to her knees, and she pulled a pink scarf from the pocket and wrapped it around her neck twice. All without looking at him. Sadie passed in front of him out of the office and her low-heeled boots echoed against the tile-floored hallway. She didn’t say a word as they made their way back down the wooden staircase side by side.
When they reached the bottom, she turned toward him.
“It’s good to see you, Chance,” she said quietly, but her voice still carried through the empty halls.
“Is it? I got the feeling you didn’t want to see me again.” He couldn’t say that he was glad to see her in the least, because he wasn’t. He was supposed to be getting over her, not stepping back into that mire of emotion. However, the last thing Chance needed was to have everyone in the town hall listen to this conversation. “Let’s go outside to talk,” he said, gesturing toward the main doors. She nodded her agreement, and he opened the door to let her pass in front of him into the cold, winter air.
Sadie was still cute—why did he have to notice that? She came up to just past his shoulder and the scent of her perfume brought back a flood of memories. Sadie’s laugh, Sadie’s jokes, the way Sadie used to tip her head onto Noah’s shoulder, and how Chance’s insides had roiled with jealousy. His twin brother’s fiancée had been out of his league from the start. She was the woman that Chance had measured all others against...except he hadn’t intended to ruin his brother’s happiness, or chase his brother’s bride out of town.
Chance followed her out the door, then stopped on the sidewalk. She turned back, green-flecked eyes meeting his with irritation. She hitched her bag up on her shoulder.
“So you still won’t forgive me?” she asked. “It’s been five years!”
“He died, Sadie.” There was no making this up to Noah. His brother was gone, and they were both to blame for that.
* * *
“Would you have rather I’d married him?” she demanded.
Sadie stepped back as a woman in a puffy green coat passed them and disappeared into town hall. She pasted a smile onto her face, hoping that it covered the rising emotion inside of her. Someone in a pickup truck called, “Morning, Chief!” as the vehicle rumbled past. There was no privacy on the streets of Comfort Creek.
She’d been afraid to come back because she knew that she’d let down the entire Morgan family. When Noah had proposed, he’d had the thrilled support of his brother and parents. She knew some women who married men whose families hadn’t been terribly thrilled about the wedding, but that hadn’t been her experience with the Morgans. They’d welcomed her with open arms. Her rejection of Noah would have felt like a rejection of all of them. But how could she marry Noah when she’d experienced more in one unfortunate moment with his brother than she’d ever felt for Noah?
But she’d come back to Comfort Creek anyway, because while she’d dashed out on her wedding, she didn’t want to be the kind of woman who ran away from conflict. Comfort Creek was her home, too, but standing here on Birch Street with a lump in her throat wasn’t exactly how she’d hoped to do this.
“Let me buy you a coffee at the diner,” Chance said. “It’s cold out here.” He met her gaze, at least. Lucy’s Diner was just down the street by the highway, walking distance from town hall.
“Alright,” she agreed.
Sadie had expected this to be difficult. When her grandmother told her that Mayor Scott needed an events planner, the timing was perfect—for her at least. At that point, she hadn’t realized that the event would be a commemorative ceremony for her ex-fiancé. That was uncomfortable, to say the least. Was she the right person for the job? Would Comfort Creek be angry or supportive? But the mayor assured her that he didn’t see a conflict of interest. He needed a qualified event planner, and he trusted her to have the right “feel” for the town.
When the mayor told her that she’d be working with Chance Morgan, she’d almost refused the job. She hadn’t spoken to anyone but her grandmother since she’d left town, and she’d prayed long and hard about the job offer. But home was calling to her, and she felt as if this was what God wanted her to do. Still, before Comfort Creek could be home in every sense, she had to