He was still afraid. “I’m a cop, Bridget. That’s all I know how to be. What if my arm doesn’t come back? What then?”

“Well, then, you have a whole world of careers to choose from. You need to think outside the box. I can’t be a reporter in Saratoga, so I’ll be a writer. You can’t be a cop in New York—for now,” she quickly interjected. “So, you’ll be…”

Lost.

It was the only word that came to his mind. Finally, he just shrugged. “I don’t know.”

She reached over to grasp his good hand. “You have time to figure it out. Will you stay here while you do?”

He hadn’t been in any hurry to return to the city. He wished he could understand why. It just felt like there was something tying him here.

Jake’s laughter drifted from the living room.

Jacob James.

If Rodney was being completely honest, he knew why he was staying. Jake had been a godsend to him these past few weeks. Offering companionship during his recuperation. Comfort and laughter during his down times.

Rodney knew Jake hoped for—wanted—more from him, but that desire seemed pointless right now. Rodney had nothing to offer but a crippled arm, a gut full of resentment and a pile of regrets. It wasn’t fair to dim Jake’s bright light with the shadow currently residing over him.

“I have no idea where I belong right now.”

Bridget grinned. “Well, I may not know much, Rodney, but I do know the answer to that. You belong here. With us.”

Her words soothed his weary soul. “Here sounds pretty good.”

“This is a good place. I knew it the first night we arrived. I don’t know the answer to your problem, but I do think you’ll find it here. You might even find a bit of happiness along the way.”

“Happiness sounds good.”

She laughed, her face painted with sheer delight. “Happiness is very good.”

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