In Your Dreams (Blue Heron #4)(83)



“Yeah.” Em put her hand on his arm. “Hey. They don’t have anything gluten-free here,” she said. “And you know how I am about gluten.”

“My sister is the same way,” Lori said. “And, Officer Neal, we never thanked you. You were wonderful that night, too.”

“I’m glad everything turned out okay. For Garrett, I mean.”

“Yes,” Lori said, her eyes filling once more. “That poor Josh.”

“Give Garrett our best, okay?” Em said. “We have to be going.”

“But we wanted to buy you two dinner—” Phil began.

“That’s so nice of you. Another time, maybe.” Em smiled and took Jack’s arm. “Have a great night.”

He didn’t say anything. Once outside, he started walking toward the green. Em had to hop-run to keep up, hobbled by her underwear.

He stopped at the first bench they came to and sat down heavily, leaning forward with his head in his hands. Didn’t look up when Em sat beside him, subtly trying to adjust the thong of pain.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yep.”

She waited. After a minute he ran his hands through his hair and looked at her. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

He sighed and sat back, closing his eyes.

She wanted to tell him how brave he’d been, tell him about the awe she felt at how he’d put his life on the line for those kids...and how he went back for Josh, even when the odds were so poor.

But she also knew he’d heard that a thousand times, if not more.

“People think when you rescue someone, it’s the greatest thing ever,” she said gently. “They never think about how scary it is, all the what-ifs that go through your head.”

He opened his eyes, the intense blue still a shock to her. “Have you ever saved anyone?” he asked.

“Not yet. Not the way you did. I’ve pulled over a few drunk drivers. But otherwise, no.”

“I really hate the hero worship,” he said quietly. “I’m just a winemaker who was taking pictures of the sky that night. It doesn’t get less heroic than that.”

“What you did was extraordinary, Jack.” She couldn’t help herself.

“But it wasn’t. Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing if you’d been there. Anyone would’ve. My teenage niece would’ve. Faith would’ve. Her dog would’ve.”

“But you did it. You were the one who was there, and you went in and pulled four kids out of a frigid lake, Jack. We might’ve tried, but I don’t know anyone else who could’ve actually done it. And you...you didn’t stop trying.”

“Tell that to Josh Deiner. So much for extraordinary.”

“He’d be dead without you.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “From what I can tell, he’s dying right now. Just slowly, in pieces, by inches.”

“So should you have left him?”

“No,” he said quietly. “I should’ve done better.”

Her heart cracked. “You did your best.”

“And it wasn’t good enough.” He looked at her a moment. “Well, this is cheerful, isn’t it? Come on—let’s get dinner.” He grabbed her hand and hauled her to her feet. “You hungry?”

“We don’t have to—”

“I’m starving. Let’s go.”

“Jack, what you’re going through is—”

“I’m ordering the nachos. You know Connor will put salmon on them if you ask? Sounds disgusting, but it’s fantastic.” He towed her ruthlessly across the green, yanked open the door to the pub and became manically cheerful, kissing Colleen on the cheek, shaking Lucas’s hand. And great. There were Jack’s dad and stepmother. “You guys know Emmaline, right?”

“Jack. Of course they know me.” He was vibrating with energy. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Holland. Mrs. Holland.” The Jamaican woman gave her a regal nod, and Em suspected she’d just won points for using Mrs. J.’s married name.

“You look very pretty tonight, dear,” Jack’s dad said. He had the same blue eyes as his son, and Em felt her cheeks warm with the compliment. “Well! We’ll let you two kids get back to your date!”

“And we’ll let you two get back to yours,” Jack said. He took another minute to clap Gerard Chartier on the back and say hello to Lorelei.

Crikey. Emmaline was surprised he didn’t fly around the room a few times, he had so much energy.

Finally, they made it to their table.

“Everything okay?” she asked as he sat down.

He sighed. “Please let’s have a good time tonight,” he said, looking her in the eye, giving her the full power of the blue. “I don’t need a social worker. I need a friend.”

Naked friends, she’d been thinking after that make-out session in the church basement. If they weren’t going to be na**d friends, she could’ve worn human underwear instead of this razor wire. “Friends it is,” she said.

“I like you, Emmaline.” He smiled, a wide, adorable smile, and she had a flash of memory of Jack when he picked Faith up from some high school event, the college boy back to see his family, and how it made her wish she had a big brother.

Kristan Higgins's Books