Page 33 of Anchor Point

Chapter Nine

Mac

For the second time in a dozen hours, I found myself pulling into Olivia’s complex, a nice older community a couple of blocks from the heart of downtown. Prior to the tornado last year, the complex had large old trees as a barrier to the road, providing shade during the hot summer months. Now, the early morning light glittered off the metal roof. At least the grass had begun to grow back.

The neighborhood was relatively safe, and although their complex wasn’t gated, we never heard of any bad things happening in the area.

Olivia met me on the sidewalk, her arms folded over her chest, with an expression that said she still wasn’t convinced this was a good idea. I hadn’t meant to make the offer for Rosie to stay with me, but the words were out before I knew it, and the more the idea settled, the less nervous I was about it.

The meeting and official introductions, not that they were really needed, had gone surprisingly well. After all, Rosie had been sneaking over and hanging out with Buster for a week, and we’d gotten into a routine, so we weren’t total strangers. Plus, I still had paternal rights, and technically, I could enforce them. And maybe that was what had Olivia on edge.

Once Olivia got past her nerves and loosened up, she agreed that Rosie coming with me was the best-case scenario. I tried to remind myself of all the positives as I climbed out of the truck, because now that it was go time, I was scared to death. Buster woofed from the back seat, aware that this was a new place he hadn’t explored.

“Stay,” I ordered, before closing the door behind me.

Olivia shifted, arms wrapping around her waist, looking like a concerned mother rather than the tough-as-nails fire chief. I couldn’t blame her. She was sending her baby girl off with a virtual stranger.

Her worried eyes met mine. “You sure about this? Now’s your chance if you’ve changed your mind.”

I hooked a thumb in the pocket of my jeans to keep from reaching out to rub away the crease between her eyebrows and shook my head. “No take backs. We’ll be fine. You go kick some ass, and we’ll see you when you get done. You got the address, right?”

Olivia began nodding as the front door burst open, and a mass of bags and flying blond hair bolted for us. “Hey, Mac. I’m ready! Bye, Mom.”

I caught up with Rosie, taking her bags. “That’s not good enough. Try again.” I didn’t mean to, but it came out as a growl. I nodded to where Olivia stood watching, looking for all the world like this might be her last goodbye with Rosie.

Rosie stood frozen in place, eyes wide. We needed to get some things straight from the get-go. Even so, I didn’t want to scare the kid before we even hit the road, so I softened my tone before I laid it out.

“When you leave your momma, you give her a hug and a kiss and tell her you love her. Always. Every time.”

Realization dawned, and she turned and dashed back to Olivia, nearly taking her out with a full-body tackle. “Bye, Mom. Do good on your thing. I love you. I’ll call you tonight.”

Before I could even get around the truck, Rosie was in the passenger seat, loving on Buster.

I chuckled, feeling a little awkward that she’d just ditched her mom without a thought. I stuck my hands in my back pockets because I still didn’t know what to do with them, aside from reaching for her, which I shouldn’t do, no matter how strong the pull between us.

I was supposed to be making their lives easier. This was supposed to be helping. So why did it feel like I was kicking a puppy?

“I reckon she’s excited.”

The corner of Olivia’s mouth tilted on a sad smile, her eyes glued to Rosie. “You could say that. After you left, she packed and repacked for two solid hours. I don’t know that she’s slept a wink.”

“You sure you’re okay with this? You seem a little upset.” I kept my voice soft so that Rosie wouldn’t overhear.

Watching her daughter with sad eyes, she nodded. “I wouldn’t stop this for anything in the world. Look at her.”

I was too caught up on the woman in front of me to drag my attention off her. I hated this defeated expression on her face, hated that she looked so melancholy, hated that I felt guilty for taking Rosie with me. Olivia was clearly going to miss the girl. Was this what parenting was like? Was this what I was in for? My whole world, wrapped up in the happiness of my child?

Olivia dragged her attention away from Rosie and Buster with a huge sigh and turned to face me. “You’ve got my number if you need me.”

“I do. Same goes for you. You need us, you call. Otherwise, I’ll have her call you tonight. Do your thing and don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.”

The drive to the lake house was two solid hours of Rosie singing along to Taylor Swift songs. After we’d unloaded the truck, she and Buster had an afternoon session of fetch. They’d both come into the detached garage soaking wet after a dive in the lake, and I’d banned them to the yard until Buster quit shaking, not wanting him to sling mud on the canoe I was refinishing.

Rosie had taken an immediate interest in my project. “What’s that?” had been her favorite question, asking it over and over, and paying attention when I explained each part of the boat. Eventually, I put her to work, and she’d fallen into the same meditative state I fell into when working.

She stood across from me, sandpaper in hand, working over some rough sections, while I worked on rigging rope anchors. Her stomach growled, interrupting the late-afternoon silence.

I glanced at the time. We’d been at it for hours. “You wanna go get a pizza?”

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