by Cheryl Wyatt
“Aardvark fairies?” Bri blurted before she could think.
“Yes. They fly in and eat all the bugs.” She glared again at Ian. “He has ants in his house and I hate living there. We don’t even have a tree or cookies and Santa is coming in—” Rant paused, she counted on her fingers and gasped. “Three days!”
Ian looked about to scold Tia for speaking disrespectfully, but his cell phone rang. He viewed the screen. Relief hit his face.
“Excuse me.” He carried plates to the sink with one hand and answered his call with the other. He went to Bri’s deck to speak, eyes flitting her way through a window.
Bri put leftovers away. “Tia, let’s get toys picked up.”
“Can you go to Sully’s with us?” Tia asked as they worked.
“Um, well...” She didn’t want to barge in on daddy-daughter time. Plus, her arm was really hurting.
Tia grabbed Bri’s good hand and squeezed. “Please?”
Ugh. She was a heartbreaker, this kid. Bri eyed Ian, who walked in with a neutral expression. Too neutral. “Was that Caleb?” Bri pegged.
“Yes. He’s fine. Said to tell you he loves you but not to call. He’ll be out of range for three weeks. He’ll call you—and me—when he’s back at base.”
She gritted her teeth, and felt as if she was the only one not in on the full conversation.
Bri fought hurt that Caleb didn’t speak to her and that Ian didn’t encourage him to. Why? Was Ian as thoughtless as Eric? Or was Caleb imminently marching into more serious combat danger?
“Miss Bri’s going to Sully’s with us,” Tia announced.
Bri stiffened, ready for Ian’s explosion. Eric never liked when his pals had included Bri in their get-togethers.
The only thing that ignited on Ian’s face was a smile. “Awesome. Tia, did you and Boom pick toys up?” Ian went to check the play area behind Bri’s burgundy-and-blue-striped couch, leaving Bri to wonder why she tended to compare the two men.
It wasn’t as if she was interested in Ian. She was simply becoming involved in his life because she was babysitting Tia. That was all.
Bri’s unease had nothing to do with how handsome his jet-black hair looked in a fresh buzz. Or how his broad chest filled out a black leather jacket.
Nothing at all.
Chapter Three
Nothing at all was wrong with his heart. So why Ian’s pulse skipped upon sight of a tall blonde jogging the lakeside trail ahead on his run the next morning, he had no idea. Especially since she resembled Bri. Platinum ponytail brushing her back with each athletic footfall, white wisps fluttering in the breeze, easy as her one-armed stride.
Wait. One arm? He sped up. Looked closer.
That was Bri.
Instant annoyance hit that he’d taken a second look.
“Hey, Crash!” he called so he wouldn’t startle her by just running up next to her. “Cool the turbojets.”
She turned and nearly tripped over a rut. Alarm sliced through him. He reached to steady her as they slowed. “Close call.” He eyed the hot-pink cast that had given her away.
“Not as close as the goose who nearly took me out.”
“It is called Gosling Way,” he teased, referring to the walk-run trail adjacent to Duckshore Drive, which circled the water and led to Lakeview Road. It connected the trauma center and Landis Lodge to a residential area around Eagle Point Lake, where he and Mitch had homes built while overseas and planning this trauma center amid what felt like a million combat surgeries.
Bri’s cheeks were red and her breathing labored enough he knew she’d been running awhile. “Where’s T?” she huffed.
“Tia’s still sleeping. Kate’s watching her in the doctor’s lounge for me.”
Bri looked at him sharply. “At the trauma center?”
“Since I don’t have a call room in my home, yes.”
Bri veered off on the Gosling Way trail that led to Eagle Point Lake’s pavilion behind EPTC. Ian followed, sensing she had something to say. Once she caught her breath, she pulled the lone iPod plug from her ear. That she only wore one and let the other dangle told him she was a serious runner, same as him.
“Still planning on the Library marathon?”
She nodded, and swigged water. “Yeah. You?”
“Yes. I’d be in trouble otherwise.”
“That’s right. I heard you helped Lauren’s grandpa Lem organize it to fundraise for community projects.”
“How’d you hear that?” He propped a foot on a concrete picnic table beneath the covered pavilion. It needed a new coat of paint. But like everything else in Eagle Point, money was tight, so upkeep of public parks suffered. Ian aimed to change that. If he was raising Tia here, he wanted it to thrive.
He realized Bri never answered. He leaned in.
She nibbled her lip. “Kate and Lauren organized a prayer and praise gathering here on Tuesday nights. They named it PRAYZ.” Bri drew a fortifying breath, as if afraid to say the rest. “Mitch comes. He requests prayers for you and the trauma center a lot. He wants your fundraising efforts to succeed.”
He eyed his watch. “I should get back. Tia will be waking soon.” He turned back. “Be careful with your—”
“Arm. I know.” She fell into step beside him, but for some reason all he wanted to do was get away. From her and the weird way it made him feel for people to air his personal life in public. And who prayed at a lake, anyway? Mitch, of course. Yet, he knew Mitch and his prayers were why Ian had made it through his divorce and deployments intact. He sighed. “Thanks for...never mind.”
He wasn’t convinced yet the prayers were working.
“Did you get called in again last night, Ian? You seem...”
“Beastly?” he bit out. Held her gaze and didn’t dare let his face soften. “Yeah. Saturday nights are almost as bad as Friday with drunken accidents and parties. No one died, though.”
“That’s good.”
“That’s debatable.”
She paused. “That means...?”
“The dad of the girl we saved is a private investigator. He checked around and found the guy who supplied the kids with alcohol. The P.I. first threw punches, then threw the guy out a second-story window. Now he’s in jail.” Ian smirked. “The offender who supplied underage kids with alcohol is in neck-to-ankle traction.”
“Was that before or after EMS brought him in to you?”
Ian laughed, surprised by her humor. “Before.”
She sighed. “We really need to get that teen hangout going. After the cabins, of course. And you really need to let me come to your house and watch Tia when you get called in.”
At the trauma center lot now, he checked his phone. Kate hadn’t texted. He motioned Bri toward the lodge. “I’ll walk you home and work on renovations until Kate texts me Tia’s awake.”
“Think about what I said, Ian. Your house is a four-minute jog from mine. But I can make it in two.” She blushed. “I timed that route this morning. You have a beautiful place.”
“You will, too, once the lodges are fixed up. You did a nice job with your personal cabin.” Ian walked her to her door. “I’ll be back with my truck in a bit.”
He really wanted to run another lake lap, but that would take time he needed to get crackin’ on Bri’s second cabin.
He finished replacing windows when Kate called. “She awake?”
“Yes, but I need to borrow her for a few hours.”
“Okay, what—”
“None of your beeswax. Christmas secrets.”
“That’ll give me time to get Tia’s gift, too.”
Kate scoffed. “You ruin everything, you big brute.”
“I’ll pretend to be surprised.” A terrible feeling went through him. “Kate, don’t be dishearten
ed if, when you bring the whole buy-Daddy-a-present-thing up, Tia doesn’t want to get me anything. She’s still resentful and angry over her life being turned upside down. Right now, she considers me the enemy.”
“Take heart, Ian,” Kate said in childproof tones. “Tia is the one who brought it up. This was her idea. She asked me to take her.”
Emotion throbbed behind Ian’s eyes, and it took a second to compose himself. “Thanks, Kate.” He hung up and turned.
Bri stood in her patchy yard with iced teas and a curious expression. He dipped his head so she wouldn’t see evidence that he really wasn’t all that strong. Aerosmith riffs blasted his phone again. Kate’s camouflage monkey avatar lit the screen.
Had Tia changed her mind? Decided to give him nothing for Christmas except a hard time? He swiped the phone face. “Hey, Kate.”
“Hey. Bri nearby?”
“Yeah, need to speak with her?”
“No. Walk nonchalantly away, out of her hearing range.”
Kate never lost her military leader bossiness. Ever. “Okay, what’s up?”
“At PRAYZ the other night, Bri casually mentioned not being able to shop and decorate her place for Christmas because of her arm. I think facing this first holiday without her mom has given her a case of the winter blues. She could use some holiday cheer. Take care of that for me? Like, today?”
“Sure.” The sad thought dawned on Ian that, if someone didn’t intervene, Bri would be spending Christmas all alone. “You planning on taking Lem up on his invitation to come over and join him, Lauren, Mitch and a bunch of the pararescue jumpers for Christmas Eve dinner?”
“Yeah. You’re not bailing on him, right?”
“No, actually, he’d mentioned to bring a friend if we wanted, that he’d have enough food to feed an army. Maybe we should invite Bri.” Meaning maybe Kate would take it from here.
“Great idea, Ian. Let me know what she says when you ask.”
“Wait—”
“Gotta run. Take your time shopping with Bri and have fun.” She clicked off before he could formulate a coherent response.
The way Kate urged him to take his time, Ian got the distinct impression she was matchmaking him and Bri. He needed to disabuse her of that crazy notion.
Ian sighed at Bri’s ramshackle cabins. If he was doing one a week, he needed help. “Time for backup,” he told the curious woodland creature watching from a barren branch. The squirrel skittered up the tree. Ian smiled at Tia’s depiction of trees that lose their leaves, aka pajamas, according to Tia—pj’s!
Ian instantly thought of renovation recruits. A human PJ, though, not the cotton variety. “We’re calling in air support,” he informed the sniffing, bushy-tailed squirrel. “That bank doesn’t stand a chance of leveling your home, little buddy.”
He dialed Brockton Drake, the only unmarried holdout on a pararescue jumper—aka PJ—team stationed at Eagle Point Air Base near Refuge, a town away. The special operations skydiving paramedics helped at the trauma center sometimes to keep their medic skills up between combat and civilian rescues. Brock always told Ian to call if he needed anything. Today, he did. “Hey, Brock. What are you doing today?” Ian asked the hardworking air force PJ.
* * *
Whose pretty red truck is that? Bri watched it rumble past her cabin and park near the one Ian hammered on. Pausing her organizing of books for Lem’s annual library fundraiser, she stepped onto her deck to see.
A strapping redheaded man with a bright smile and true military bearing exited the cab with construction supplies. Ian greeted him and together they unloaded wood from the truck bed.
Bri fought the urge to rush out and apologize for her shabby cabin. Yet the way the two men bantered back and forth, ribbing good-naturedly while working, suggested they didn’t consider helping her an inconvenience. Ian laughed. It was such a rare occurrence, Bri smiled. She felt bad he was strapped to her cabin today when she wasn’t watching Tia. Kate had volunteered to take her for a few hours of shopping.
The last time she’d asked Eric downstate to help her mom with the lodge so it wouldn’t have to close, he’d scoffed. Told her he didn’t have time for something so trivial.
The month away from him had made Bri see she’d be better off without him. He’d brainwashed her to believe she couldn’t find a better guy. She stared at Ian. Was he a manipulator with moodiness, too? Bri rubbed the chill off her arms. Best get busy inside.
While the guys worked, Bri continued sorting mass amounts of books for Lem’s annual library benefit. She had a hard time not cracking a book open and indulging.
Too tempted by the books, and sleepy from insomnia over worrying about Caleb, she set about sewing new curtains for each of the cabins. Seven cabins’ worth later, a knock sounded at her door.
Ian and his pal stood on her landing.
“Hi, come on in. I was about to make lunch and bring you refreshments.”
“I bragged on your tea,” Ian said. “This is Brock, a buddy of mine from the Refuge side of Eagle Point Air Base.”
“Nice to meet you, Brock.” She shook his hand. “I’m Bri.”
His dimples deepened as he smiled. “Ma’am.” He eyed the floor. “Whoa. That’s an avalanche of books.” He bent down to peer at the titles. “Who reads all these?”
“I do. Ever since I was little, I’ve had an obsession with reading.”
Ian poured tea in the two glasses she’d set down on the kitchen counter. He grabbed a third glass and filled it, too. “Join us on the deck?”
He handed her the glass and gestured. “Ladies first.”
“Nice place,” Brock commented, eyes gazing over the land.
“You should see it fixed up.” Bri settled in the farthest seat across from Ian at the outdoor table.
“I will soon,” Brock said, then passed Ian a look she couldn’t decode.
Ian captured Bri’s gaze. “You mentioned the bank’s mandate to have seven financially stable renters by Valentine’s Day. Pararescuemen on Brock’s team are partnering with local first responders in rope rescue and other advanced training and conducting survival classes.” He gestured behind her. “Those steep, silvery bluffs, deep lake, woodland terrain, caves and overgrown forests would make great training ground.”
Brock leaned in. “Your cabins would be a great time-saver and give us a base close to the training area. I talked to my C.O., and Petrowski said to get info from you about renting a couple units. He said to tell you he’d be happy to send more recruits out to expedite the renovation process, if that would help.”
Tears burned behind Bri’s eyes. Relief, yes, but she hated embarrassing thoughts that two entire towns, Refuge and Eagle Point, plus an entire elite force of special ops airmen were conducting a conspiracy of kindness to help save her lodge. Because people in close-knit communities were like that.
Bri knew of the PJs. She’d had no idea Brock was one, but the way he carried himself—now she could see it. The PJs were famous in these parts and abroad. Esteemed and well respected. Honest. Superhero strong. Brave. Benevolent. A noble breed of valiant, honorable men who’d stand by their word or die. Men of integrity. Like Mitch, and—despite his brooding—Ian.
If she agreed to this, that meant three cabins had renters. Hers, and the two Brock inquired about. Yet, she wasn’t paying. She needed to figure out how to generate more income. Kate had hinted about renting one of her cabins, but hadn’t mentioned it since.
She must’ve been silent too long. Brock stood. “Think about it, ma’am. Get back to me, or Ian, whenever you’ve had a chance to come up with numbers. Money’s not an issue for us, so charge what’s comfortable for you.”
She nodded, realizing with cautiously optimistic hope that, if things panned out right, renting the two cabins could both appease the bank and generate income to renovate
the rest. Her money was quickly running out. She walked with Ian to accompany Brock to his truck despite Ian’s hard face and formidable air.
Bri waved to Brock as he left. “Hope my silence didn’t run him off.”
“No, he told me earlier he had to get ready for HALOs tonight.” Face still cast in a brooding light, Ian walked back to her deck and grabbed their glasses. He was so subdued she was compelled to help him thaw. Talk to him.
“HALOs?” She opened the kitchen door and they stepped in.
He met her attempts at conversation with a dark, pensive stare. It created such an atmosphere of danger, she took a step back. That snapped him out of it and seemed to alert him that he’d emanated a threatening impression.
He set the glasses in her sink and washed them. “High altitude, low opening. It’s a special nighttime parachute jump from so high up, they have to have oxygen.”
“Oxygen?” Her neck craned. “Nighttime?”
Ian grinned. “Yeah. Total blast.”
“Maybe for you.” She laughed cautiously, contemplating the thrill of free-falling. “I’d like to skydive someday. The normal way,” she quickly tacked on. “When oxygen isn’t required.”
He brushed a finger along her arm. “After this heals, I’ll take you. We could tandem jump until you feel safe to solo.”
Right now, solo was the only thing that felt safe.
“At your own risk. I’m liable to blow out your eardrums.”
Ian laughed. “Brock’s team leader, Joel’s wife, almost did the first time he took her.” His grin faded, face pinched. “Not...that you’re my wife—just—Caleb told me how adventurous you are.”
“Told? Or warned?” She quirked an eyebrow at him, dried the glasses that had been Mom’s and put them away, yet not memories of them standing at the lodge sink chattering over them. Lord, I miss her so much. Poor Tia. She had to miss hers, too. Chest tight, Bri drew a shaky breath.