Wind River Protector

by Lindsay McKenna

“They’re like a pair of Stealth bombers. You don’t see them coming until afterward,” he said.

  Andy grinned, finishing off her latte. “That’s a terrific way to put it. Yes. Our parents have taught us to walk quietly—no drama, no histrionics, no arrogance, only humbleness because everyone can teach us something if we’re open to hearing and learning from them.”

  “In some ways,” he murmured, putting out a bill to pay for the drinks, “they’re a lot like my parents in the way they see the world.”

  “I’d love to hear about them. Mom wanted to know if you could come over for Sunday dinner. She has a family meal every Sunday at three p.m. It’s a tradition. She usually invites friends and folks from around the valley. But this time, it would be just the four of us. Interested?”

  Hell yes! Dev told himself he shouldn’t be excited, but he was. “I’d like that. What’s the dress code?”

  “Oh, come as you are. It’s nothing fancy. Just pretend you’re sitting down at your own family’s dinner table.”

  “Can I bring anything?”

  “Just yourself.”

  “I can do that.”

  June 23

  Sunday

  “Tell us about your family,” Maud Whitcomb urged Dev as they ate Sunday dinner.

  “Yes,” Steve said, passing the mashed potatoes to his wife. “It takes a certain kind of person to do what you did—helping to rescue Andy and then keeping her safe from the Taliban for five days.”

  Feeling heat crawling up his cheeks, he murmured, “My parents taught me that nothing is ever done alone, that it takes another person, or people, to get the best ideas or plans.”

  Maud gave him a nod, studying him from where she sat at one end of the table. Cutting into a buffalo steak, she said, “That’s the way I was raised. My mother and father always acknowledged other people, defining what they accomplished. One might have an idea, but it takes a team to fully envision the dream and then get it up and running.”

  Steve gave her a grin from the other end of the table. “Like the airport multihub idea. But enough of that. We’d like to know about your growing-up years, Dev. They define who you are today, and Andy has a very high respect for you.”

  “I think that’s true of any family.” He pushed the peas with pearl onions around with his fork. “My parents are first-generation Irish. They got their green cards and became citizens of the US. Then I came along. My family is very close to our Irish roots and relatives to this day.”

  “What part of Ireland?” Maud asked. “I love that country and its people.”

  “Galway Bay,” he murmured.

  “Ohhh,” Maud murmured, pressing her hand over her heart, “that is one of my favorite places in Ireland! Steve, you’ve been there, too.”

  “Yes,” he said with a nod, “I work with an architectural firm based in New York City.” He lifted his chin, holding Dev’s gaze. “Where on the Bay are your relatives?”

  “Barna, just outside of Galway on the bay,” he said. “My father’s family owns several bed and breakfasts in the village. My mother’s had a childcare service there.”

  “How did your parents meet?” Andy asked, sitting opposite him.

  “They were born in Barna, went to school together and were the best of friends. My father wanted to move to America and become a citizen because there was more work here. My mother agreed. Both were risk-takers.”

  “Which explains why you were chosen to be a Night Stalker pilot,” Andy said, giving him a look of pride.

  “I suppose,” he muttered, embarrassed, not used to being the center of attention of three people who were sincere about getting to know him. It was enough that they’d made a huge fuss over him earlier for saving Andy’s life. She didn’t help matters, saying he was a hero, when he didn’t feel that way at all. If the tables had been turned, she’d have done the same for him. After telling his parents about those five days, at least the nonstop-secret version of their escape, they, too, were upset. They hadn’t realized just how much danger he’d been in. To say the least, they were grateful he was safe and had called them as soon as he got to Bagram.

  “I remember Barna,” Steve said, enthusiastic, smiling. “In fact, I’ve got photos of it and Silverstrand Beach, which is famous in its own right.”

  “It is famous,” Dev agreed.

  “Have you been back to see your relatives?” Andy asked.

  “I try to go to Ireland every couple of years to visit them.”

  “I imagine you really enjoy your time there?” Maud asked, opening up another biscuit and drizzling some honey across it.

  “Very much so.” Dev looked over at Steve. “Silverstrand Beach is one of my favorite places to go. It’s beautiful, and there aren’t a lot of tourists in the winter, which is when I visit.”

  Steve laughed. “I visited in the summer and it was packed with tourists and locals alike.”

  “Which is why,” Dev said, finishing the last of his steak, “I go in the winter. Rains a lot and tourists only want the sunshine and clear blue skies of summer.”

  “Smart,” Andy said.

  “Have you been to Ireland?” Dev asked her.

  “Yes, with my mom. I’m familiar with Galway, the city, but I don’t remember Barna.”

  “It’s a small village. You may have been distracted at the time,” and Maud smiled benignly.

  “I remember Silverstrand, though. You took me there for a picnic.”

  Dev smiled. “I wonder if you met some of my relatives in the course of your stay in the area.”

  Andy shrugged. “I don’t know. It would be neat to find out. You can take a photo of all of us to Ireland when you visit next and see if anyone recognizes us.”

  “Good idea. I’m slated to visit this November.”

  “It’s so green over there, like in Wyoming in summer,” Maud said wistfully. “I loved the Princeton area, where Steve and I lived while chasing our master’s degrees, because it was out in rural New Jersey. Green and grassy, with lots of trees.”

  “And it’s the same here from what I can see,” Dev said, gesturing toward the large picture window.

  “Pretty much,” Steve chuckled, “but we get a heck of a lot more snow than Ireland ever does.”

  “That’s why I loved growing up in North Carolina, near the ocean. It reminds me a lot of where my relatives live.”

  “Do you think your parents chose Port Harbor because it’s closer to Ireland than the West Coast?” Andy wondered.

  Dev warmed to her insights and logic. “Yes, exactly. Doesn’t get as much rain, and hurricanes are worries for them, but they loved it.”

  “I imagine,” Maud entertained drily, “that it was a lot warmer than Galway Bay in the winter.”

  “You’re right about that,” Dev agreed, smiling. Ever since stepping in the door to their fabulously constructed, two-story cedar log home, he’d felt at ease. The Whitcombs treated him as if he were a natural extension of their family. The kitchen and dining room, plus the living room, were beneath a cathedral cedar ceiling far above them. The fireplace was made of the natural sedimentary stones found in central Wyoming. They were created out of ancient sea creatures, floating to the bottom of the shallow ocean that had been in the center of the country during prehistoric times. Steve had shown him some of the slabs that contained fossils, which made the past come alive. Dev appreciated Steve’s connection with the past and his talent for incorporating it into the present. Even more, there were framed photographs of their four children, plus a wedding picture of Steve and Maud. He warmed to the fact that this was a tight family that appeared not to be in a spiraling state of dysfunction, making him relax even more.

  Dev frowned for a moment, listening to Steve talk about some of the fossils. He was well versed, no question. It was true he missed being close to his family. Being here, this afternoon, seemed . . . well, so right. Why?

  Steve handed his empty plate to Sally Fremont, the housekeeper and cook. He thanked her for another wond
erful meal.

  Sally beamed, her blue eyes sparkling. “And we have your favorite dessert, Steve.”

  Steve glowed. “Yeah?” He slid a look to his wife, who was smiling broadly.

  “Yes,” Maud said. “Bread pudding with caramel sauce.”

  Dev made a sound of pleasure.

  Andy laughed. “What? You’re a bread pudding lover, too, Dev?”

  Rubbing his belly, Dev said, “Absolutely.”

  Steve gripped his upper arm. “Man after my own heart. We have a lot more in common than I thought.”

  Sally picked up the rest of the plates and flatware. “I suspect Steve and Dev want twice as much as usual? Ladies?”

  “Oh,” Andy said, holding up her hand, “I love your bread pudding, but I’m stuffed like a Christmas goose already. How about you, Mom?”

  “Standard amount, Sally, please?”

  “You got it!” and Sally turned, hurrying through the kitchen to the service area, where the dishwasher and refrigerator were hidden behind a pocket door.

  Steve leaned over and whispered, “Sally will pile on the whipped cream, too, Dev.”

  Andy giggled. “Oh, you guys are all alike!”

  Maud joined in, nodding sagely, her eyes glistening with laughter. She reached out, squeezing Andy’s hand. “See? While you were gone, nothing changed.”

  Squeezing her hand in return, Andy gave her mother a loving look. “It’s really nice to be home, Mom. I always missed you two and the ranch. But lately, I felt such a deep, deep yearning to be home with you that it astounded me.”

  Maud released her hand and looked proudly at her. “You grew up here, Andy. This is your real home and it always will be.” Her voice went husky, emotion choking her words.

  In Dev’s opinion, Andy might be adopted, but truly, she was their daughter whether she was their blood or not. That took a huge heart; not everyone was able to adopt a baby or young child. He was beginning to realize just how special these two people were. They knew who they were. They knew how to dream big and how to bring that dream to fruition. They’d adopted four children and, according to what Andy had said about her three adopted siblings, they were just as fiercely loved as she was. That was amazing. It was heart melting. He was so glad Andy had had a soft landing after being abandoned. Because life didn’t usually happen as it had for her.

  Dev sat with a huge dessert in front of him as Sally finished serving the pudding. Steve murmured his thanks to her as she placed a plate in front of him with the steaming bread pudding on it, drizzled thickly with butterscotch-scented caramel awash in thick, real whipped cream. The pleasure in Steve’s face was something to behold. This was a family who didn’t hide their feelings from one another. His family was like that, too. He had found out during his years in the military that not all families were the same. Dev had learned to truly appreciate his parents.

  Stealing a glance across the table, he watched the joy on Andy’s face. Earlier, her cheeks had pinked up over her mother’s loving praise. Her words about that yearning to come home told him she was probably home for good. And what a home it was. Already, she had pleaded with him to go for a ride next week, to see the ranch from the back of a horse. And because he’d always dreamed of coming to this state, he felt like he was in some kind of great dream come true. When Andy lifted her chin, her gaze touching his, he saw her gray eyes widen, those black pupils enlarging. Yes, there was no question there was something good, something he wanted to continue to explore, between them.

  Chapter Seven

  June 23

  Andy covertly watched Dev throughout their Sunday afternoon meal. He wasn’t a show-off, he wasn’t a braggart, nor did he ignore her and her mother in favor of her father, the other male at the table. Those were all boxes that needed to be checked off before she allowed her romantic and idealistic side, which she kept carefully closeted, to look at him on a personal level. All the other men in her life had turned out to be exactly what she couldn’t stomach. It was tough finding a man who treated her like an equal. There was unconscious bias, something every human being had, but the smart men discovered it and worked to stop that kind of behavior. Whether it was bias over skin color, gender or anything else, she wouldn’t put up with such an attitude in her life. She didn’t want to think about the many mistakes she’d made through the years, trying to weed out the Neanderthal males from the “real men.” Looking for a man who saw women as his equal in every way. Full stop.

  There was no question her parents liked Dev. He was easygoing, a good listener, fully engaged with them. On that five-day run for their lives, though, he was anything but laid-back. She decided she had seen his warrior and survival side. What had attracted her from the first hour they’d met on that cold, wind-whipped mountain slope was his genuine care and concern for her. He’d put her first, not second. He hadn’t viewed her as an irritating addendum. Not as some pain-in-the-ass woman he had to protect or put up with. She’d seen too much of that as a Warthog pilot with male pilots in her squadron. She wasn’t wanted. She was taking up a slot where a man should have been. And on and on until she wanted to throw up. It was male bias against women, of course. She’d gone through flight school like every man and was top in her class. To the flight instructors, who were more interested in who had the skill sets and goods to be combat pilots, that was all that mattered, not gender. They could care less whether she was a female in the cockpit. They wanted combat-hungry pilots who flew by the seat of their pants to protect the troops below.

  After dinner, she joined Dev on the dark green outdoor swing at one end of the wraparound porch. The sun was low on the western horizon on the opposite side of the house. It was shady where he sat in the swing, watching her languid progress toward him. Andy didn’t make the mistake of thinking Dev was like all the other men she’d been attracted to. He was very different, and that caused her to hesitate, even though she wanted to connect with him. That push-pull was driving her crazy.

  “Come sit down,” he invited, patting the lime-green cushion.

  “Thanks, I will.” She held a cup of coffee in her hand, and she saw that he had one in the cupholder on the end of the swing’s polished cedar arm.

  “I imagine you used this swing a lot as a little girl growing up?”

  She liked his insight and sat down. Taking the other end, she lifted her feet, which were bare now, and placed them up on the cushion, tucking her toes into the lumpy material, her back against the thick pillow behind her. Holding her coffee in both hands, balanced on her stomach, she said, “This was one of my favorite places as a kid.” She looked up at the roof above them. “I daydreamed a lot out here.”

  Cocking his head, he gently nudged the swing just a little with the toe of his boot, liking the movement but not wanting to spill anyone’s coffee. “What did you daydream about?” He knew it was a personal question, but the mellow energy between them had inspired him to ask.

  He saw her features sadden a little. “I don’t normally admit this, but when I found out that all us kids were adopted—and I was the first to be told—I needed this swing. I needed the privacy, quiet and solitude so I could think and feel my way through it all.”

  “I was wondering when Maud and Steve told you.”

  “They wanted to adopt us, and they did. Neither of them wanted to keep that fact from us. I was twelve when they sat me down out here, in this swing, one on each side of me, their arms around my shoulders, and they told me I wasn’t their child by blood.”

  “I’m sure they weren’t looking forward to it any more than you wanted to hear something like that.”

  One corner of her mouth lifted momentarily. “At the time they told me, I’m afraid I was pretty selfish and self-centered. It hurt a lot to know I wasn’t their daughter by birth. They tried their best to make me believe that they loved me and, in their eyes and heart, considered me the oldest daughter in their family. I believed them, but I felt this huge hole open up inside me, inside my heart. Afterward, all I could
do was cry because they were the only parents I knew and I’d loved them all my life. I wanted to know why my real mother threw me away. I wrestled with that the longest, but as I got older, around eighteen, I just let it go. I realized that Maud and Steve loved all of us, fiercely and forever.”

  His mouth tightened. “I wish I could put myself in your shoes, Andy, but I can’t.”

  “You’re doing a pretty good job of trying,” she joked sadly. “Most men never ask sensitive questions like you’re doing, except for my dad. He’s ruined my outlook on men, pretty much. None of the guys I’ve ever met, with the exception of you, had unselfishness in their worldview.”

  Grimacing, he said wryly, “Yeah, we’re a pretty thickheaded bunch sometimes. I discovered early on that even young girls in grade school were a lot more mature than any boys. My mother was and is, to this day, my icon of maturity.”

  “And your father?” She tilted her head, catching the amusement dancing in his eyes. It struck her in that moment that Dev wasn’t afraid to drop that man shield, as she referred to it, and become vulnerable with a woman or child or baby. That was the most pleasant of shocks, and her heart opened with that discovery.

  “My father was a risk-taker, like my mom. They shared the same dream of making more money, going somewhere to take advantage of a larger country, like the US. He idolizes my mother, has always respected her intelligence and ideas. They work as a team.”

  “Kind of like my parents? Ahead of their time? They treat each other as equals and there’s a boatload of respect between them.”

  “I was struck by that very thing,” he admitted, ruefully shaking his head. “It made me miss my parents a lot after I left home. I didn’t see it often in the world. It was then that I began to realize just how lucky I had been.”

  “You see them every two years or so? Or do you go home once a year and then travel to Ireland and see your relatives the year after that?”

  “Caught me,” he said, smiling, giving her an admiring look. “That’s exactly what I do. Since becoming a civilian, I can only spend two weeks with them, not thirty days like I did when I was in the military.”