A Hero for Her by Maryann Jordan

1

The early morning mist hung over the Chesapeake Bay. Gulls, terns, ospreys, and black pelicans swooped over the water in their search for breakfast. Snowy egrets and blue herons stood in the shallow waters with their long, stately necks stretched out as they waited with infinite patience for a fish or crab to come within their reach.

The sunrise illuminated the sandy shore, giving evidence of the breeze blowing the sea grasses on the dunes. The lush pine tree forests joined the fall colors of red, orange, and yellow from the oaks and maple trees beyond the dunes in the distance.

The sky morphed from black to a glimmer of pale blue in the east, then, with each passing moment, pink and yellow oozed across the horizon to mingle with the various blue hues. The light breeze was not strong enough to cause waves, and the water gently undulated.

The autumn air was cool as the boat sliced through the ghostly mist. The only sounds were the boat engine, water slapping against the sides, the call of seabirds, and in the distance, the sound of oyster fishermen talking as they stood hip-deep in the water, their rakes digging the oysters off the beds.

It was one of Jared Dobson’s favorite times on the water. Out on patrol, he stood in the wheelhouse of the thirty-three-foot special-purpose craft of the Virginia Marine Police. He wasn’t alone since they always traveled with partners, and today he was with Callan Ward, grateful for the other man’s desire to enjoy the peace of the early morning as well.

Jared kept the speed low until the rising sun burned off the last of the mist. Callan stood on the bow of the boat, helping to direct through the low visibility. They called out greetings as they came upon boats filled with local fishermen. Callan had grown up on the Eastern Shore of Virginia, part of a group of men often referred to as the original Baytown Boys, the moniker for the high school baseball team. An early career with the Coast Guard had resulted in Callan’s assignment back to his hometown, and when he left the Guard, he eagerly came on board with the VMP.

Jared had also served in the Coast Guard, but their similarities ended there. Callan’s parents still lived in Baytown, and he’d reunited with and married the beautiful love of his life. He and Sophie had a baby several months ago, living near both sets of parents who doted on them. Jared sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. He’d seriously be jealous if Callan weren’t such a good officer and friend.

Jared’s father had attended the Naval Academy and served as a career officer in the Navy. He could still hear his dad’s response when he came home after joining the Coast Guard. “The least you could have done is go to college to become an officer in the Navy instead of pissing away your career in the Guard!”

His parents now lived in Florida, and he’d visited them for the obligatory holiday for years until his mom had a cancer scare about three years ago. She’d battled and won, and in the process, Jared’s dad let go of past disappointments, finally deciding that life was too short not to hold tight to family. Jared had been shocked at his dad’s turnaround, but now the visits were more celebratory and not times to be avoided.

“Hey, Chuck!” Callan called out, signaling for Jared to slow their progression.

Callan’s shout jerked Jared back to the task at hand, and he expertly maneuvered their craft to the side of the old but well-kept fishing trawler. Paint was chipped from the once white-painted sides, and the fishing lines were worn and dark, but Chuck kept his boat in excellent working order. Jared grinned, throwing his hand up in greeting as the older fisherman smiled in return.

“You boys are out awfully early, aren’t you?” Chuck asked, pulling off his ball cap and wiping the brow of his weathered face, the creases from years of working outdoors deepening with his smile. Wearing a plaid shirt and yellow fishing bibs, he was ready for the autumn weather. His hair was shot with silver, but his body belied his age. The daily grind of being a fisherman honed his lean body, but arthritis slowed his movements.

“We have to get up early to keep up with codgers like you,” Jared called out, earning a hoot from Chuck’s grandson, who moved around their deck with the ease of a young man who’d spent time on boats since before he could walk.

Chuck laughed, shaking his head. “Codger, huh? I can still outmaneuver most of these young ’uns on the water!”

“I’m sure you can,” Jared agreed with a smile.

“I have something for you,” Callan said as he leaned into the wheelhouse and grabbed his backpack. Jared watched with curiosity as Callan unzipped the pack and pulled out a plastic container. Walking back over to the edge of his boat, Callan handed it to Chuck. “My Sophie appreciated the soup your wife dropped by when she was sick a few weeks ago. When I told her I was going out early this morning and would probably see you, she wanted me to give you these cookies to take home.”

Chuck’s grandson grinned and leaned forward, but Callan pulled them back slightly. “Now, you better make sure your grandmother gets at least a few of these.”

Jared shook his head and chuckled as Chuck slapped the back of his grandson’s head and reached out to take the plastic container. “You tell your wife I’ll make sure my Anna gets these.”

“How’s the haul this morning?” Jared knew Chuck and his grandson had already been out for at least two hours.

“Rockfish and drum aren’t too bad.” Chuck’s gaze moved out over the water, his chest heaving in a sigh. “I can still get a decent price to make a living. God knows that’s not always easy.”

Jared knew the words were true. It was hard, backbreaking, sunup-to-sundown work to eke out a living from the bay. “Take care,” Jared called out as Callan pushed away from the fishing vessel’s side. Steering away from the boat, they continued their patrol near Baytown. He maneuvered through open water and inlets, checking on the fishermen hauling crab pots and the oyster farmers working in the private oyster beds.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, the crystal waters of the Chesapeake glistened like diamonds underneath a cloudless blue sky. The jacket he’d worn when they left the station was no longer needed, and he shrugged it off, tossing it behind him.

The morning was peaceful compared to the summer months when the vacationers were out in kayaks and boats, some without the proper licenses or training. Summertime rescues were much more prevalent than in the less trafficked times of the year. “I know the town needs the tourists, but I don’t mind telling you that I like it when they go home,” Jared said, his gaze moving over the water as he steered.

Callan joined him in the wheelhouse and nodded. “You’ve got that right. The teens are back in school, and hardly anyone is out on Jet Skis. And for now, it looks like the only fishermen we’ve come across are those out here legally.”

As he maneuvered through another inlet, they passed several small piers and boat docks belonging to the people who owned property along the water’s edge. VMP Chief Ryan Coates and one of the other officers, Joseph Newman, lived nearby. It seemed as though those who worked on the water wanted to live there, too. God knows I do, too.

“How’s your house coming along?” Callan asked as though reading Jared’s thoughts.

He grinned, thinking about the property he’d bought recently. The small house backed up to the water of an inlet that led to the bay and was a fixer-upper. But that was fine by him, considering it was the only way he could afford it when it went on sale. “I was thinking about when the work on the house is complete, and I can have a dock built.”

“I know Ryan and Joseph love theirs.” Callan nodded. “I wouldn’t mind living on the water, but I don’t think Sophie would ever want to leave our house.” Callan and Sophie lived in a big house in town, not too far from their parents.

From the broad smile on Callan’s face, it was evident his friend would never deny his sweet, beautiful wife anything. Thinking about their new baby, Jared teased, “Or your parents.”

“You’ve got that right. With both my parents and Sophie’s parents nearby, Phillip is spoiled. He grinned. “And we have babysitters anytime we need to get away.”

The radio sounded, and the dispatcher’s voice broke through his thoughts, sending the coordinates for a stalled boat nearby. Jared steered them in the opposite direction, and they headed farther out into the bay.

* * *

The oyster-shell driveway crunched underneath the tires of Jared’s older model SUV as he parked in front of his house. Climbing down, he stopped and sucked in a breath of air, appreciating the view. The home had seen better days, but that was a part of its charm. Built in the early 1900s by a railway worker, it had served as a home to a number of families over the years.

The two-story wooden structure was held together with good bones. The real estate agent explained that the original house had three small bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs, with one being about the size of a walk-in closet. A previous owner had taken the space to enlarge the bathroom and make two bedrooms instead of three. A living room with a fireplace and built-in bookcases, a small dining room, a kitchen, and a half bathroom with a stackable washer and dryer completed the first floor. Before purchasing, he’d hired a top-notch inspector and had been assured the only work needed was cosmetic. A lot of cosmetics.

So far, he’d managed to knock a few items off his to-do list. The original floors were sanded and refinished. New drywall was up on multiple interior walls, and new insulation filled the attic space. With winter coming, he wanted to ensure the heat stayed inside and didn’t escape through the roof. While he appreciated the large bathroom upstairs, it needed updating, so he’d tackled that project. He’d removed the floral wallpaper in the larger bedroom and painted it a neutral soft gray.

He was halfway finished with the kitchen, having upgraded the appliances, cabinets, and countertop. Those jobs required long nights, off-duty weekends, and the help of some friends. He hired out having the roof and windows replaced, not afraid to admit when he was in over his head—lacking the time or skill to make sure the job was complete and up to code.

But he still had a lot to do. Updating the downstairs bathroom, finishing the kitchen, fixing the front porch, installing new stair rails leading to the second floor, continuing to paint the interior and exterior, and then planning an addition to the house down the road. Yeah, a fuckton of work to do.

Walking through the front door, he smiled in spite of the disarray presented to him as a loud woof greeted him. He braced himself as his dog jumped up on him. “Hey, Daisy girl,” he murmured, rubbing her black fur. “You ready to go out?” If her prancing in circles was any indication, he assumed she was busting to get outside.

They moved through the kitchen, and he tossed his take-out bag onto the counter before he opened the back door to let her into the fenced yard. She bounded off the steps, racing around, sniffing, barking at birds, and taking care of her business. She trotted to the back steps, now eagerly awaiting their nightly game. Bending, he snagged a ball from the bucket near the door and tossed it, watching as she raced to snap it in her jaws, trotting back for a repeat performance. As she darted back and forth, he cast his gaze around his yard.

The fence had been in a state of disrepair when he bought the property. Since he wanted Daisy to be able to run safely, he’d torn down the remnants, re-dug the post holes, and put up a new picket fence. He’d thought of painting it white, but for now, the natural wood would do. The fence encompassed a large part of the backyard, and just outside its boundaries was the one-car garage located to the side. It had once been a small barn, but a previous owner had used it as a garage. Like much of the house, it had seen better days. Jared used it to house his lawnmower, tools, extra building supplies, and anything else he could store out there.

The best part was that it had a full room over the garage. Another former owner had turned the upstairs into a small efficiency apartment, complete with a mini fridge, stovetop, and microwave. A tiny bathroom that contained a sink, toilet, and minuscule shower completed the space. It wasn’t fancy, but it was functional. He’d been glad for the apartment because he’d lived there while he refinished the downstairs floors and had the new roof and windows installed in the house.

Now, he hoped to find someone to rent the studio apartment, giving him a modest amount of rental money to offset the cost of the work he was doing on the house. He’d contacted a local real estate agent, given a list of conditions, and hoped they might send a renter to him. I need a quiet guy, someone who keeps to himself and doesn’t trash the place.

His attention fell back to Daisy as she tired of her game and dropped the ball at his feet, walking to the back door.

“You hungry?” His question was unnecessary, considering he could read her expressive face. Once back in the kitchen, he filled her bowl with dog food before placing it on the floor.

Ready to have his own dinner, he opened the take-out bag and pulled out the wrapped sandwich. Grabbing a beer from the refrigerator, he settled onto a kitchen stool and devoured the BLT he’d gotten from the pharmacy’s diner in town. He groaned with pleasure, wiping his mouth as the condiments dripped off his chin. Extra bacon. Perfect.

Leaning down, he gave his last bite of bacon to Daisy, who gently took it from his fingers, then turned and trotted back into the living room. After cleaning the take-out wrappers, he glanced at the prioritized list he kept on the refrigerator, giving a mental fist pump at the number of items crossed off.

The drywall hanging on a few walls downstairs was taped and mudded but not painted. Drop cloths covered the furniture and floors in the living room. He had no dining room furniture, so he ate each meal at the kitchen counter.

Deciding to tackle the living room walls, he shook the paint can, popped open the lid, and poured a generous amount into the roller pan. It didn’t take long to get into the rhythm, and the pale blue-gray paint soon covered the back wall.

Hearing his phone vibrate from the other room, he climbed off the ladder and jogged into the kitchen, finding it lying on the counter. Seeing the local real estate agent on caller ID, he quickly answered. “Hey, Joanne, what’s up?”

“Sorry to call so late, but I thought I’d get ahold of you this evening. My partner, Larry, found someone who seems perfect for your efficiency. It’s someone who's looking for cheap housing. Are you still interested?”

“Yeah, sure. I was just thinking about that a little while ago. Do you know anything about them? They need to know it’s a small apartment.”

“Larry said he went over the specs with them, and they were very interested. You know how hard it is to get a small place around here for a reasonable price.”

He opened his mouth, but she kept talking.

“Let’s see. I have a sticky note around here somewhere. Oh, phooey, where is it? Anyway, his name is Bill, and he’s filled out the application and already paid the deposit and first month’s rent.”

“Any idea where he works?”

“I believe Larry said he’s from Norfolk… or maybe it was Chesapeake.”

“Well, if the guy doesn’t mind roughing it, there’s a bed in there, a bathroom, and a way to heat some food.”

“Well, Larry indicated Bill was contemplating a camper, so it sounds like he would consider this a step up.”

Jared snorted, glancing out the window at the garage. Hell, a camper might be better. “Listen, I don’t want to take advantage of him. We can rent month to month from the beginning in case he hates the place.”

“Excellent!” Joanne enthused. “I’ll let Larry know, and Bill can contact you when he’s ready to move in.”

Disconnecting, Jared shoved his phone into his pocket and walked back to the living room. An hour later, with one coat of paint covering the walls, he stood back and nodded in appreciation. “What do you think, Daisy? Like it?”

She lifted her head from the cushion on the floor, offered a baleful expression, and then lay back down.

“Hmph,” he grunted. “Well, I like it.” It took another half hour to clean the roller brushes and pan, secure the paint lid, and pick up the area. After letting her out for a final run, he secured the house, and they climbed the stairs. It didn’t take long to shower, and when he walked into the bedroom, Daisy had already claimed her space on the king-sized bed.

“Move over, girl.” He pretended to grumble, but in truth, he didn’t mind sharing his space. They’d only been together a few months, but she’d caught his eye from the first moment he’d walked into the shelter. When he knelt, she raced over, sat in front of him, and nuzzled his hand. From the moment he’d first brought the retriever-spitz-shepherd mix home, she’d plastered herself to him. Climbing into bed, he glanced out the window, saw the garage out of the corner, and sighed. He liked his privacy and would have preferred not to rent. But the extra money will be nice.And as long as he’s not a criminal, I can put up with just about anything for a few months.