Page 16 of Shielding His Heart
I nod and stick to Alec like a shadow. It was different when I was in the hospital bed, thinking about getting out and figuring out everything I didn’t know about my life. Now that I’m doing it, it feels overwhelming. Scary. I’m half-tempted to beg Alec to take me back to the house so I can hide under the covers in my bed and never come out. Even riding around town gave me distance from the people and things from before-me’s life. This? Meeting them makes everything even more real.
Before I can get the words out, he’s moving through another doorway to the right. Now we’re in an open area that looks like a living room. Instead of the usual furniture, it’s filled with a half-dozen recliners and a wall of walkie-talkie radios. To my immediate left is an open kitchen space with an island and four, yes,four, refrigerators. There are pieces of computer paper with ‘A Shift,’ ‘B Shift,’ and ‘C Shift’ written on them, which makes sense once I think about it. If they have a bunch of different people rotating in and out, they’d want a place to store their food for each shift so it’s all in order and separated.
Walker throws himself in a recliner, and Remy disappears down a hallway to the right of the kitchen and living space. I glance that way curiously but follow Alec as he walks me through the little cubby area to the left of the kitchen, where there’s a bank of computers softly humming.
“This is where we write all our reports,” he says. There’s an entire wall with laptops in protective cases and two desktop computers. He points to a door in the center. “That’s Zeke’s private bathroom and showers. This is the common space. Nothing too special about it, but we’re pretty proud of our coffee bar.” He and Walker share a significant look.
“Is there an inside joke about coffee I don’t need to know?” I tease, trying to squash my own nerves.
Walker grins. “Well, it’s just Alec was new here after the storm like I was, and when you saw that our old station had been demolished and we were living in old, busted temporary trailers, you raised a stink until we were finally given this new place complete with a coffee bar.”
I glance between the two of them. “You’re kidding. I did that?”
“You started it when you saw that the subfloors were rotting out from underneath us, and we were working double shifts.” Walker sips from a mug of steaming coffee. “And we’re very grateful still.”
Swallowing hard, I try to give him a cheerful smile, but it feels forced. I don’t feel like the kind of woman who could spearhead a campaign of that magnitude. No wonder Alec had been so distraught about losing before-me. Great mother, loving wife, concerned citizen. Was there anything about her that hadn’t been perfect?
“Why don’t I give you the rest of the tour?” Alec suggests.
“Sure.” I give Walker a small awkward wave as Alec tugs me down the hallway where Remy disappeared.
Doors line either side, and Alec says, “These are our bunkrooms. We switch out with each shift, but we’re lucky enough to have our own room.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just make an appropriate sound of approval. Alec opens the door to a room at the end of the hallway, and I’m immediately assailed by his scent. It’s nothing fancy—a bed, a chair, a TV, and a good-sized closet. It’s empty, and the bed is bare. The closet is split down the middle with labels on each half. Dorran is on the right.
“It’s nice,” I say. I imagine him sprawled out on the bed in only those sleep pants like he’d been this morning. He’d have one hand resting low on his stomach and the other under the pillow.
I jump when he starts talking again. “It’s not much, but I figured I’d show it to you so you could get to know me a little more.”
My face is flushed, but I hope he doesn’t pay too much attention. It’s only natural, I try to tell myself, and then push the image from my mind. “What do you do when you’re not at work?”
Okay, maybe I am a bit curious. Who wouldn’t I be? This is the man I was—am—married to. Part of me wants to know who he is and what drew me to him. I want to know the man before-me vowed to spend my life with. Maybe I owe it to him—to myself—and to the girls to be open-minded, give this at least a chance.
Alec points to the door, and I follow him back through the hallway. “We’ve got time. Why don’t I show you?”
“Sure, why not?”
We wave goodbye to Walker, who raises a hand, then get back in the truck. “How long have you been here?” I ask.
“We moved here from Tallahassee four years ago after the storm because we wanted to be closer to my family. They also desperately needed EMTs and medics.”
He drives the truck with an easy confidence, one hand on the wheel, the other propped on the window. It’s a confidence I envy. I’ve only known Alec a short while, but it’s been long enough to know that he’s a man secure in himself, capable. A man who knows what he wants.
It hits me then that he must want me.
Then I remember we were in the middle of a conversation. “Do you like it here? I imagine it’s different from Tallahassee.”
He lifts a shoulder. “Not as much as you’d think other than Tallahassee has a hell of a lot more people. Besides, I think the pace here is much better, and we have a lot more room for the girls.”
“Was I a good mom?” I blurt. I can’t seem to wrap my head around the reality of it all. It seems to come naturally to Alec, like he was built to be a dad.
His gaze darts to me. “Of course you were,” he says without hesitation. “Youarea wonderful mother, Tana. Don’t ever doubt that.”
Thankfully, we pull to a stop because I’m embarrassed about asking the question. It’s not until we get out of the truck that I pay attention to our surroundings. It’s some sort of park based on the tall, somewhat bare trees and playground off in the distance. It’s scraped new like most of the landscape around Battleboro; the trees left standing are nearly naked, with just the slightest bit of regrowth on the limbs and downed trees everywhere. The fencing along the playground looks new, and so does some of the equipment.
To the right of the parking lot is a boat ramp, and the sound of trickling water fills my ears. What is it about running water that makes your muscles instantly loosen? I wonder if it’s the same for everyone else when Alec takes my hand and helps me down the steep slope to the riverbank.
The river is about a football field wide and still high and dark green from the spring rain, I’m assuming. Cypress and oak trees line either side, and I imagine before the hurricane, it was a beautiful sight. A sign at the edge of the bank says, “Little Florida River.”
