Wind River Protector

by Lindsay McKenna

  “We’ll never know,” Andy said, sad. “Like you, Dad, I’ve often wondered if my father was a pilot.” She slanted a look to Maud. “I guess I’m more like Dad than you,” she apologized. “So often, women give up their babies because the father wasn’t someone they knew that well, or maybe they were divorced from them. And, I’m guessing, because they were poor and didn’t have much money.”

  Maud reached out, touching Andy’s lower arm. “I wish we could find out, but we’ve run into dead ends that have stopped all of us from finding out about the biological parents of all four of you.”

  Andy didn’t want the dinner to become maudlin. “Let’s stick with the present. I’m shocked in a good kind of way that Dev is back in my life. Well, maybe he is. Pete Turner has to go over my résumé and he makes the final decision on whether I get hired or not.”

  “I met Pete last week,” Steve said, “and he’s an amputee vet. I liked his sense of humor and his kindness. There was a vet walking alongside the highway, just outside of town, and he was driving in from the airport and spotted him. Pete gave him a ride to Kassie’s Café. He gave the guy money to buy a meal there. Kassie has a small apartment behind the café and she took him in, fed him and got him some new clothes from Charlie Becker’s Hay and Feed store. In fact, Charlie and his wife, Pixie, donated three sets of work clothes, new boots and underwear for him, so he might be able to get a job in the area.”

  “They’ve done so much for our returning vets.” Andy sighed, giving him a watery look.

  “This valley is home to a lot of our returning men and women,” Maud said. “Pixie called me later and asked if we needed any help at the ranch, said that the guy, Eric Davis, has some carpentry skills. And, as fate would have it, I’m going to be talking with him tomorrow at the office about becoming one of our carpenters. We really need a full-time person because we’re building more tourist cabins.”

  “I hope he gets the job,” Andy said.

  “When do you think you’ll hear about your job?” Steve asked her.

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Are you on pins and needles?” Maud asked.

  “No, because Dev said it was practically a done deal. I’m taking him at his word.”

  “He’s not the type to hype,” Maud said. “Not about a job as the number-two person in the department.”

  “Right,” Andy agreed. She pushed her plate away. “I’m stuffed like the proverbial Christmas goose, Mom. That was a great meal. Thank you.”

  Maud said, “Thank Sally for this great meal. I don’t know what we’d do without her cooking and cleaning for us.”

  Andy nodded. She was in her midteens when she realized that Maud’s mother, Grandmother Martha, was one of the richest women in the world. Before that, it had never dawned on her that not everyone had a live-in cook like they did. Sally Fremont was a local, born in the valley. When her husband unexpectedly died of a heart attack, she had to go in search of a job. Maud was softhearted by nature and hired her. Growing up, Andy loved Sally fiercely for the care she always extended to all their adopted children. At the time, Andy was nine years old. Everyone in the family discovered very quickly that Sally was a wonderful cook, plus stepping in to become a part-time babysitter for them as well. Andy knew how lucky they were because Sally loved them as if they were her own children. Horror stories about being adopted weren’t visited upon them, thank goodness. At that age, Andy knew just how fortunate they were. The four kids had been given a home with real love, with support, and their adopted parents urging them to fulfill their dreams. Maud and Steve had always stood in the background, cheerleaders for all of them, building their confidence and loving them in a hundred different ways that shaped them into the adults they were today.

  There was a huge part of Andy that didn’t want to know who her birth parents were. Maybe that was selfish, but she didn’t care. She, of all the children, was the least interested in tracking down her biological parents. Giving Maud a loving look, she felt her heart burst open with affection for these two people who had taken them all in. There weren’t a lot of people in the world like them.

  “Listen,” Maud said, finishing off the last of the green beans on her plate, “once you get the job, why don’t you invite Dev Mitchell over here for dinner? We’ve never met him and we would love to thank him for helping save your life. What do you think of that?”

  One of the many things Andy adored about her parents was that they always formed a question on anything they might want to do that involved one or all of them. It was never a statement or an order to obey. “I like the idea. I think he’s a lot like us: a really tight family man, and that family is everything to him.”

  “Where’s he from?” Steve asked.

  “He said he was born in Port Harbor, North Carolina, a rural area near the Atlantic Ocean.”

  “So why did he take this job here in the West?” Maud wondered.

  “He said he’s always loved the West but had never gotten out here.”

  “That’s a good sign,” Steve said. “Your mother was born in New York City and is an Easterner through and through.”

  “Yes,” Maud said, laughing and slanting Andy a humorous look, “and I guess I fall into Dev’s world. I had always dreamed of going out West, too. It was a romantic place for me.”

  “And then you met me, wearing my black Stetson, my Levi’s, and my cowboy boots at Princeton University.”

  Andy sighed. “I love hearing stories of how you met. Mom, did you mind leaving the East to marry Dad and come to live in the West with him?”

  “Keep in mind we spent many years at Princeton,” Steve said. “We’d come out here on some of the holidays and spend the others with her parents in New York City. We did spend our summers out here.”

  “That’s where I really fell in love with the West,” Maud said, smiling wistfully. “Steve taught me how to become a wrangler. Your Grandpa Sam taught me about being a rancher. Your Grandma Lydia taught me how to run a ranch as a business. I loved all of it. I do to this day.”

  “We kids are so lucky to have two sets of grandparents,” Andy agreed. “Not everyone, because of distances, has them around much anymore.”

  “Oh, but you grew up with Sam and Lydia surrounding you,” Maud said. “They were terrific babysitters when I needed them, too. I was always grateful that they’d come over and care for you kids when I had to travel or go away on business. And your dad has been gone a lot more than me because of his global commitments.”

  “I remember,” Andy murmured. “We loved when Grandma and Grandpa would come and live in the house, that they had their own guest bedroom here. Us kids always looked forward to it because Grandpa Sam would take us out in the hay wagon and we’d go up and down the dirt roads pulling it with his tractor. We found all kinds of things to do. He’d stop the wagon and we’d look for frogs in the ditch, or we’d spot wildlife. He always brought his binoculars along.”

  “He taught all of you to love and respect nature,” Maud agreed.

  “Most of all,” Andy sighed, “remember when we turned eight years old? They bought each of us a pony. He wanted us to learn how to care, saddle and groom our horse. We loved it!”

  “Yes,” Steve chuckled, “they spoiled you in the best of ways.”

  “When I was running for my life with Dev in Afghanistan? I put a lot of what Grandpa taught us about being stealthy, about creating a back trail so if someone was following our footprints, we could confuse them and throw them off our tracks.”

  “Really?” Maud stared at her. “You usually don’t talk about that time, Andy.”

  Shrugging, she said, “I know. I guess it’s easier to speak about it now that it’s four years later. It doesn’t have the emotional impact on me it had before. I asked Dev one night, when we were resting in the darkness after climbing another ridge, if he knew what backtracking was. He did. We were in an area where there was soil, not rock. We knew the Taliban were great trackers and they’d spot our footprints, so w
e spent an hour creating that false trail.”

  “You should share that story with Grandpa Sam,” Steve urged. “I’m sure he’d appreciate knowing that.”

  Nodding, Andy said, “You’re right. I will the next time I see him.”

  “Why not invite them to dinner to meet Dev, too?” Steve suggested to Maud. “Let him meet the whole Whitcomb family?”

  “That’s a great idea. Andy? You okay with that?”

  “Sure. I think Dev misses his family, but he didn’t say it in so many words. I feel he’d like being surrounded by everyone.”

  “Good,” Maud said. “Let’s wait for that phone call from Pete or him letting you know if you got the job or not. And even if you don’t, Andy, we all would like to thank Dev for being a part of your getting back safely to us. The man deserves our thanks and then some.”

  June 13

  Andy’s cell phone buzzed. She was in her bedroom at her parents’ home, and she saw it was Dev Mitchell ringing her. They had just finished breakfast; it was nine a.m.

  “Andy here,” she said, her heart beating a little faster.

  “Hey, I just talked with Pete and he said to make you an offer you couldn’t refuse.”

  Relief sheeted through her and her fingers relaxed around the cell phone. “Oh, that’s great!” She listened to the offer and the generous state medical package, plus three weeks of vacation. It was more than she’d gotten in California. “I’ll take it,” she told Dev. “Thanks for having my back on this one.”

  “We have a common bond,” he agreed. “Are you free to come over and sign a gazillion papers so Jackie can get them posted to the governor’s office and we can get you on board?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes. I’m coming in ranch clothes.”

  “Sounds good to me. See you then.”

  A special warmth flowed through her as she clicked off her cell phone. There was an emotional richness to his tone that hadn’t been there before. Andy wondered if he was personally interested in her. It sounded like it, but she wouldn’t put money on it. Giddy with excitement, she could feel her life changing in important but not yet revealed ways. Unable to explain the feeling, she hurriedly picked up her purse, throwing the strap across her shoulder.

  Earlier, she’d been out in the broodmare barn, helping to clean stalls along with the wranglers. Wanting to get back into shape, plus jogging at least a mile every morning it wasn’t raining or snowing, she had climbed into a pair of jeans, a lavender tee and comfy tennis shoes after taking a shower. Her hair hung around her shoulders, just washed and dried.

  She had a job!

  Hurrying out of her bedroom suite, she found her mother in the kitchen with Sally, talking over that night’s dinner menu.

  “I got the job, Mom!” she called, grinning widely.

  Maud whooped at the news.

  Sally threw her a thumbs-up at the door to the kitchen. “Told you that you’d get it, Andy.”

  “Yes,” Andy said, laughing, “you sure did.”

  “Was that Pete who just called you?” Maud asked, giving her a bright smile of congratulations.

  “No, it was Dev. Can you tell Dad the good news? I know he’s out in the barn with the wranglers. I’m driving over to the airport to fill out a lot of paperwork and get officially on board. I don’t know if I’ll be back for lunch.”

  “No worries,” Maud said. “Sally’s making you a special dinner tonight, one of your favorites.”

  She stood at the door. “Really, Sally?”

  “Yes, indeed,” she said. “Tuna and noodles.”

  “Wow, this is a celebration day!” she whooped, opening the door. “Thank you, Sally! Mom, I’ll call you later when I’m leaving the airport.”

  “See you then. Congratulations!”

  * * *

  Dev tried to avoid telling himself that hiring Andy had made his day, month and year. His heart warred with his head. His job position was at odds with his growing interest in her. He was attracted to her, but that was nothing new, was it? Those five days when they ran for their lives through enemy territory had shown him the grit and steel spine she had. And he’d known so little about her, until now.

  In her personnel file, it showed she had been adopted at three months old by Maud and Steve Whitcomb. Her biological mother had dropped her off on the steps of the fire department station in Wind River, abandoning her. That was a rough first landing to take in her life and yet, as he mulled it over, Dev wondered if such a start, being given away, had made her the strong woman she was today. He had so many damned personal questions to ask her and yet, in his place as the assistant manager, he couldn’t ask any of them. He did know she was single, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a man in her life. That was none of his business either. Andy wasn’t an extrovert; she possessed a serious demeanor. Maybe it was because of what had happened to her early in life: she took nothing for granted, knowing that it was a struggle; even as a young child, she learned how serious life could be. He wanted to know what drove her to become a combat jet pilot. That wasn’t exactly every little girl’s dream, although he was fine with a woman using all her intelligence and skills to find a career she felt passionate about. And it was clear to Dev that Andy loved flying.

  The knock on his door made him lift his head from the file in his lap. Andy was standing at the partially opened door, her gray eyes sparkling like diamonds, a cocky grin on her mouth that only a combat pilot had the right to wear, her chestnut hair in mild disarray around her shoulders making her look wild and untamable.

  The picture she presented did nothing but make an ache of need settle in his chest. This was much more than about being sexually drawn to Andy. His need to connect with her on a much deeper and more important level stirred in him. “Hey,” he called, gesturing for her to enter, “come on in. Can I get you some coffee, or have you had your fill this morning?”

  Laughing, she came in and closed the door, sitting down in the chair at one corner of his desk. “I’ve had four cups. I was up at five a.m. to help the wranglers clean box stalls at our broodmare barn.” She took off her lightweight denim jacket and laid it across her lap. “I need to get into better shape and there’s nothing more physical than stall work.”

  “When I was in the Army, I was running two to five miles every morning at my firebase. Sitting your butt in the seat of a bird for hours at a time wasn’t conducive to being in good shape. And I like to move around, as I suspect you do, too.”

  “Movement is healthy. Sitting is unhealthy. I’m wanting to get into some strength training as well.” She held up her arm and flexed her fist, showing him her biceps. “See? Some progress.”

  “I’m impressed. Cleaning box stalls will do that.” He set her file aside and nudged a group of papers in her direction.

  “Sounds good. And after that?”

  He stood and walked to the coffee table, pouring her a cup. “First, I’d like to take you to our conference room to get those forms filled out. Then, take you on a tour of our facility. Get your feet wet. Since you’re our first hire aside from me, you’ll be the first in the women’s sleep quarters. You’ll have your choice of the lockers, too.” He pointed to the pile of papers. “These all have to be filled out. I’ll take you back to our conference room down the hall. You might want a cup of coffee while you sign your life away. You’ll probably get writer’s cramp.”

  “Sounds great. Are you considering hiring other female pilots, then?”

  “Pete and I agree we want at least fifty percent of our cadre to be female.”

  “That’s good news. Do you have applicants?”

  He sat down and pulled over the two top résumés. “I’m glad you asked that because these are two other pilots I’m considering. And I thought because you’re a woman military pilot, you might know these women. They’re both from the military.” He handed the résumés to her.

  Frowning, Andy instantly went into focus mode. She looked at them. “You aren’t
going to believe this.”

  “What?”

  She held up one résumé. “I know Alma Lopez. She was a medevac pilot, an Army captain, and she was at Bagram. We became friends, but our missions and demands were different, so I lost track of her after I quit the Air Force.” She held up the other résumé. “Grace Cameron is a dual citizen of the United States and Canada. She was a Night Stalker Army captain with the 160th SOAR, Special Operations Aviation Regiment. She flew an MH-60L Black Hawk and saw a lot of action.”

  “More than likely,” Dev said, “over in Pakistan.” He held up his hand. “Yeah, I know Cameron was a top-secret DAP, Defensive Armed Penetrator, pilot, and I can confirm it, but I was operating out of Firebase Phoenix, the closest US outpost to the Pak border, so I saw my share of 60Ls, especially at night.” He grinned. “Would you recommend these two pilots as possible hires?”

  “Absolutely!” Andy told him, excitement in her tone. “Both are total professionals, they don’t get rattled and they will always have your back.”

  “Good to know,” he said as she handed the résumés back to him. “I’ll be sure to put notes on their files for Pete, so he’s aware there’s a connection between all of you. Law enforcement is combat, too, and we want pilots who don’t get shaken when bullets are coming their way.”

  “Totally understood,” Andy said. “Show me around? I’m really excited about seeing the total facility here at the airport.”

  So was he. Sipping the last dregs of his coffee, he gestured to the door. “Make a left and go down the hall. It’s the first right. I have the key to open it.” Dev tried to tamp down the bubbling happiness in his chest as he followed her down the hall. He shouldn’t be affected by the gentle sway of her hips, or that proud military carriage that signaled she was confident, something he’d always wanted in his women. The past leaked into his present, reminding him sadly of his young wife Sophie, who had died. Somehow, for whatever reason, the sadness and loneliness that had once cloaked him nonstop had lifted in Andy’s presence. In its place, Dev felt hope flooding his heart. And the woman who came to a stop at the door to the conference room, giving him an expectant look, put his past in place. Dev didn’t try to fool himself. He knew he craved Andy’s closeness, her thoughts, her ideas and the way she saw her world.