The PD chief, Conroy Barnes, sat across from him in his usual suit, a red tie today. Conroy nodded. “It’s over. Everyone accounted for, or at the morgue. The situation is contained.”
“Good.” Macon’s gaze drifted to the framed photo on his desk. Him and his wife at the department barbecue over the summer, their son on her hip. His brother Houston and his wife Sophie beside them. Their first baby was due in the new year.
Life moved on.
Chapters closed, and the world kept turning. Next week they’d face a new situation, and the crew would be knocked back a step. For a second, until they rallied and remembered that in anything, working together meant they would be stronger.
“You really good?”
Macon shrugged. “It’s Christmas. What’s not to be good about?”
Conroy shook his head, a smile on his face. “Whatever you say, bro.” He got up and held his hand out. “Tell the crews thank you for everything they did. This could have been a whole lot worse without your people and what they did the past few days. Lot more people would’ve been hurt.”
Macon stood, shaking his friend’s hand. “I’ll tell them.”
“Have a good one.”
Conroy headed to the door and stepped into the hall. Macon shut down his computer and followed his friend, but while Conroy went out the front door of the firehouse, he went the other direction. Past the kitchen, where Ridge’s twin sisters were making yet another batch of cookies.
Macon stopped at the door. “Smells great, ladies.”
The teens beamed at him, then looked at each other. He didn’t have a prayer of deciphering the expression that passed between Maddie and Ella, so he left them to it and continued through the double doors at the end. Into the engine bay, which had been completely transformed.
The fire trucks and the ambulance had been moved onto the drive and lights strung up all over the bay. Decorations everywhere, with a huge tree in one corner.
Macon stood at the doors and tried to pick out his firefighters in the ocean of kids in baseball uniforms, other children racing around playing some kind of elaborate game of tag, and people from town. Groups of counselors from the Ridgeman Center. Natalie’s entire ladies’ Bible study group. Half the police department seemed to be in here, as well as more firefighters than he’d seen even at the barbecue. Faces Macon knew, or people he’d seen in photos and heard stories about.
Heros.
Ordinary folks who just tried to do the right thing. Make the next right choice in front of them. Which was all any of them could do. Loving God and honoring one another above themselves until it was a way of life to stand in the gap.
To work every day to make the world a better place.
“Hey.” His wife, Natalie, made her way over, looking exceptional in that black dress. The telltale bump of another baby on the way giving her that glow she never seemed to lose.
At least, not to him.
“Hey yourself.”
“The babysitter isn’t expecting us till late.” Her eyebrows rose.
“Is that right?” He slid his arms around her waist and drew her close. “Merry Christmas to me.”
She tipped her head back and laughed. “If this one is a girl, we should call her Noel.”
“What about MJ?”
“As in ‘Macon Junior’?”
He shrugged, pretending he hadn’t thought of it. “Or Mary Jane.”
“I’ll think about it.” She kissed him, smiling.
“Speech!” Captain Bryce Crawford called out from the far side of the room.
When Macon looked over, he saw Penny tucked against Bryce’s side. Beside them were Logan and Jamie, visiting from Alaska for the holidays. Beside them were Andi and Jude and the rest of their family.
So many lives he’d watched change since he’d come home.