Need You for Always (Heroes of St. Helena)(45)

“No, lucky for him,” she said. “But you’re supposed to be telling me about the job. So get to it.”

Damn, she was a bossy thing.

“Jonah offered me a job working for Napa County,” he said, proving he knew how to share. “Running the weapons and combat training for the sheriff’s department.”

“I thought you had a job in San Jose.”

“I do. This would be temporary, just to help out Jonah until he can hire the real deal.”

She lifted a brow and Dax knew what she was thinking. Jonah had asked him for a favor and he was going to say no? Say no to the guy who had stepped in and picked up the pieces when their dad died?

“I don’t think Jonah would have asked you if he didn’t think you were the real deal,” she said quietly. “That isn’t his style.”

No it wasn’t. And walking away from a job before it was done wasn’t Dax’s. “I’ve never really trained recruits,” he admitted and then, because he couldn’t seem to shut up, he added, “I don’t know, it might be fun. I mean, I was a squad leader. But teaching classes? Not really my strength. I don’t want to leave Jonah hanging, though.”

“Ah,” she said as if it made so much sense now, and he wanted to ask her to explain it to him, because he was still confused. But she shrugged and in her most diplomatic tone said, “Well, it sounds like Jonah thinks differently, and it would give you the opportunity to get your feet wet with a team before you take the other job.”

That was exactly what Jonah had said, which made him feel worse for keeping his brother on the line. Maybe he needed to man up and move on.

“Problem is,” she said softly, leaning in closer, “you don’t seem like a dip-your-feet-in kind of guy to me. Which means you either go in half-assed or you walk away leaving a team hanging.”

“It’s not like I’m leaving them,” he defended. “They don’t even have me yet.”

“You asked my opinion.” She rested her hand on his knee. “I gave it to you. Don’t act like I burnt your G.I. Joe doll.”

“Jesus Christ! He’s an action figure! And okay, fine, if I took the job, I would serve as a temporary solution to a long-term problem, and if Jonah couldn’t fill the spot before I left, then, you’re right, the department would be short a leader again. Or I’d have to see if I can postpone my position in San Jose.” He already knew the answer to that. “And stick it out here until they find someone.”

“You, Dax Baudouin”—she poked his thigh—“have a God complex.”

He went to argue but there was no censure to her statement, just a sense of deep understanding. Empathy that shook him to the core.

“I’ve been called worse,” he said quietly, then placed his hand on top of hers, offering a gentle squeeze. “Tell me about your dad.”

She sighed. “This is harder than Show Me Yours and I’ll Show You Mine,” she said, moving to take her hand back, but he tightened his hold, trapping it there. “My dad went on an interview today. It was the exact kind of position he was looking for. A boutique vineyard, small and family run. They offered him the exact position he had before my mom got sick. It was the perfect setup.”

“And?”

“It doesn’t matter, he didn’t get the job.”

“It matters to me,” he said, lacing their fingers. “And it obviously matters to you. So tell me, why didn’t he get the job?”

“Because he gave them a list of every Lady Bug event, every school holiday, every special occasion, including National Fairy Day, that he’d need time off for. At the interview.” She huffed, full of fury and frustration. “Who does that?” She held up a silencing hand. “My dad, that’s who. He is the only guy in this recession who will walk away from a dozen amazing job offers and claim National Fairy Day as a legit reason.”

“Maybe he’s just not ready,” Dax said. “Maybe for him, going back to work, doing the same kinds of things he used to do when your mom was around, means accepting that she’s gone.”

“But she is gone,” Emerson said and he could hear the emotion in her throat. “She has been gone for almost two years. And standing still, wishing it wasn’t so, doesn’t change reality. It just makes life that much harder.”

It made everything harder for Emerson. That was for sure. Dax could see the weight she carried for her family, understood her need to keep moving forward for fear that if she slowed down, even for a moment, she’d slip back to that place.

“Not everyone grieves the same,” he explained gently. “For some people, picking up the pieces and moving on only serves as a harsh reminder of what’s missing. And with every step forward, you become more aware of what you lost, like trying to fit into a life that no longer fits you.”

“You think my dad is blowing these interviews because he doesn’t want to get back to what he loved for thirty-five years?”

“He loved your mom too, and from what it seems like, she was his life. Maybe it would be easier for him to start over fresh. A new direction that allows him to remember your mom and what they had, but something that gives him the chance to reinvent the next part of his life. Kind of like what you’re trying to do with the food truck.”