Smiling gently at her roommate, Casey realized how fortunate she’d been to grow up in a safe, loving family. She had four sisters who loved her. “I’m pretty good at chatting myself, so I think we’ll get along fine, Cat.” She saw the woman look a little more relaxed over that admission.
“Great, I think we’re a good pair to be sharing this condo,” Cat said, meaning it. “I know my social graces aren’t the best. I trust women. They aren’t my problem. It’s the men.”
Casey nodded and loaded her spoon with spaghetti. “We share a lot in common, Cat. I think we’re going to get along just fine.”
“Sisters in the battle of life,” Cat said, grinning widely.
Indeed, Casey thought. Right now she had a couple of battles she’d never envisioned: Megan’s unexpected affection and being drawn to Megan’s father, Matt Sinclaire. Casey knew she couldn’t separate one from another. There was a driving force in her to help the eight-year-old. Megan didn’t know it, but they shared much more in common than anyone would ever know.
CHAPTER FIVE
MATT TRIED TO CONTAIN his excitement as he walked from the parking lot toward the beautifully constructed visitor’s center just inside the gates of the Grand Teton National Park. Behind him rose the majestic and snow-covered Tetons. Thrusting his hands in the pockets of his red nylon fire department jacket, he hurried down the sidewalk.
It was 10:00 a.m. and so much had happened since Megan had seen the hawk and owl in her class. Hope warred with terror within him. Matt struggled to keep all his emotions in check. He’d found out from Charley, the chief ranger, that Casey would be on duty at the visitor’s center all day. Her job was to answer people’s questions. Should he have called Casey first? Something told him to show up in person. How would she take what he had to say? Would she see him as pressuring her to help his daughter? Was she at all interested in helping? Matt knew she was a stranger who had plummeted into their life out of the blue. He knew he had no right to expect anything from Casey.
Yet, as he pulled opened the glass door that led into the huge, airy center, his intuition told him Casey was a compassionate person and cared deeply for others. Would she care about the news he had?
Because he was a firefighter, Matt had been to the visitor’s center many times. If there was ever a fire here, he had to know the entrance and exit points. He had to be aware of everything so that a team sent into this place would be made aware of the structure and its inherent challenges. Charley had said Casey would be at the map desk. Not that many visitors in late April were interested in hiking trails still covered with anywhere between two and ten feet of snow. Still, a hardy few were up for cross-country skiing on these mountain trails.
He spotted Casey talking to a male visitor over a map. He slowed his pace. The center was pretty deserted at this time of the morning. Over in the gift shop he spotted Cindy McLaughlin. She smiled and waved to Matt. He returned her smile and lifted his hand. Cindy had lost her husband, Steve, to prostate cancer a year ago. Their two children were in college. She managed the gift-shop concession for the company who had won the bid to run it. The black-haired, brown-eyed woman always had a smile for everyone, despite her personal tragedy. Matt knew she wasn’t making enough money to keep her two children in college.
Steve had been a civil engineer with a local company. He’d made very good money. Now, Cindy was losing her financial base. Matt felt bad for her. He turned away and saw that Casey had just handed the young man a map. Good, she was no longer busy. Taking a deep breath, Matt headed in her direction.
Casey felt her heart bang once to underscore the surprise of seeing ruggedly handsome Matt Sinclaire walking toward her. He wore a bright red jacket, his hands stuffed into the pockets. A pair of jeans on him made her appreciate how tall and in shape he was. It was the narrowed look in his forest-green eyes that made her mouth go dry. Casey had the distinct feeling he was like a wolf on the prowl. His black hair was short but a few rebellious strands dipped across his furrowed brow. No woman in her right mind wouldn’t be drawn to this heroic man, Casey told herself. She saw all men and women in the businesses of law enforcement and firefighting as bona fide modern-day heroes. Matt Sinclaire embodied that concept in warm flesh and blood.
“Good morning,” Matt greeted as he came up to the desk. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping by unexpectedly? I have some news about Megan that I’d like to share with you.”
Relief shot through Casey. This was about Megan. For a moment her silly mind had fantasized that Matt was here for her. It had been almost a week since she’d seen him. Her dreams, for once, had taken a pleasant turn and she’d dreamed of him and of kissing him. Feeling heat tunnel up her neck and into her cheeks, Casey grabbed the stool and sat down opposite him. “Of course not.” She gave him a wry smile as he folded his large hands on the counter in front of her. “As you can see, we’re not exactly busy.”
Dipping his head, Matt drowned in her warm gray eyes. Casey’s ranger uniform was spotless and ironed, and she looked sharp in the long-sleeved tan blouse and dark green trousers. The mannish clothes couldn’t hide her femininity from him, however. She was tall and curvy. Most of all, he liked the softness of her lips as they pulled into a self-deprecating smile. “Thanks, I really appreciate you giving me a few minutes of your time.” He cleared his throat, nervous.
“I talked to Meggie’s psychiatrist over in Idaho Falls earlier this week,” he confided to her in a low voice. “And she, like me, felt Meggie was having a breakthrough.”
“Wonderful,” Casey said. She saw the anxious look in his eyes although it wasn’t broadcast in his low, husky tone. Inhaling, she smelled the cold air and scent of pine around Matt. He was clean-shaven, no trace of a dark beard. There was a white T-shirt beneath his jacket. Black hair peeked out from beneath it. He was so male that it made her dizzy for a moment. Never had Casey had such a powerful response to any man! It scared her silly.
Opening his hands, Matt rasped, “Here’s what you might possibly do to help Megan.” He didn’t say, “help me,” but that was implicit.
“Sure, what can I do to help her?” Casey saw Matt’s eyes were fraught with so many emotions it was impossible to accurately read them. She understood how much he loved his daughter and how guilt hounded him, much as the PTSD stalked her daily from her own near-death experience.
Relieved, Matt saw sincerity in Casey’s large, intelligent gray eyes. It gave him the courage to speak. “Barbara, Meggie’s therapist, feels strongly that for whatever reasons, the owl experience and you, as a woman, have opened some doors that have been closed in my daughter since that night she lost her mother.”
How badly Casey wanted to reach out and touch Matt’s hand. She saw the white lines of many scars upon them. Had he gotten all of them firefighting? She knew it was always dangerous work. “What else?” Casey probed gently. There was such hesitation in Matt’s face at that moment, as if he were unsure he should say the rest of what the therapist told him.
“Barbara Ward is a fine therapist. Megan bonded with her as much as she can.” He moved his shoulders as if to get rid of the accumulated, invisible weight he carried. “I always hoped Meggie would bond more deeply with Barbara and open up, but she didn’t. Barbara said that my daughter running into your arms to be held was an incredibly positive breakthrough.” Matt’s voice cracked. “She said that finally Meggie is starting to move out of the paralyzing PTSD. She’s reaching out to you, Casey.” He stared hard into her widening eyes. Praying that she would not rebuff his daughter’s chances for help, he added quickly, “And she feels that some kind of weekly contact with Meggie would be very, very helpful to her.”
Shocked, Casey sat there digesting his words. She could see how needy he was about this situation. But wouldn’t she be, too, if it were her daughter in dire straits? Of course. Without thinking, Casey reached out and lightly touched his clenched hand on the desk. “Of course I’ll help you, Matt. Megan is a wonderful child. She’s been dealt a b
ad hand. I’d love to work with Dr. Ward and you to help her open up.”
Something old and hard shattered in Matt’s heart. He closed his eyes. Casey’s hand was warm and it sent tingles of reaction up his arm and surging into his pounding heart. Casey’s touch had been brief. It seemed to him the moment she’d reached out and caressed the back of his hand, she’d jerked back, as if burned. Joy soared through Matt and he opened his eyes and clung to her gray gaze. “You will?”
Casey’s heart broke for the father. “Of course I will. Now, we need to work around my schedule. I get two days off a week, but not necessarily on weekends, which is our busiest time here at the park. I know firefighters have weird work schedules, too. We’ll just have to dance around those obstacles and make it work for Megan.” In that moment, Casey felt her heart widening like a flower opening to full, direct sunlight. The happiness in Matt’s eyes made them burn like green fire. His look was startling, wonderful, and she felt heat funnel from her face down to her lower body where she grew warm and achy with need—for him—as a man. Shocked, Casey quickly tamped down her unexpected feelings toward him.
Matt blindly opened his arms and leaned across the desk and gave her a quick hug. The unexpected action on his part was pure spontaneity. “Thank you,” he rasped brokenly against her ear. “Thank you so much…I owe you more than I can ever repay you, Casey…” He choked back a sob. Releasing Casey, he felt embarrassed by his own actions. Looking around, he saw the other four rangers staring at them. Mouth quirking, he gave Casey an apologetic look. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”
Laughing breathlessly, Casey held up her hand and said, “I understand. Don’t worry about it.” She felt her shoulders tingling wildly in the wake of his powerful and unexpected embrace. Casey knew his action was based on the joy and relief of her agreeing to be Megan’s mentor of sorts. So much of the anxiety and guilt had disappeared from his green eyes. Her heart soared with the knowledge that she had been of help to two people who desperately needed a third person to catalyze them. Casey understood it on a deep level. She hadn’t healed from her trauma, either, and wondered if she was doomed to a life where she felt this huge, black stain would continue to ruin her daily existence. Since nearly dying, Casey had felt no real desire to live life again. Not until this seminal, unexpected moment. What was happening?
“I have my schedule with me,” Matt said, digging into his pocket and producing a neatly folded piece of paper. Opening it up, he flattened it out on the desk before her. “Do you have yours?” Matt tried to slow down. He tried to recapture his escaping emotions. Everyone called him stoic. No one would believe him in this electric moment with Casey. Matt knew that before he reached the fire station Gwen Garner would know everything, including his embracing Casey. Somehow, he didn’t care. Gwen wasn’t a gossiper. She verified things first before telling her clientele anything. Smiling to himself, Matt felt relieved that for once, good news would be ladled out by the quilting queen of the town.
Sympathetic for Matt, Casey pulled the rangers’ schedule from the desk drawer. “Okay, let’s compare,” she said lightly, hoping to ease the tension between them. Her softly spoken words had a profound effect on him, she realized. Casey had always heard that people who loved one another could soothe their loved one’s fractious state with voice alone. She’d seen it often between her parents, Clay and Alyssa. And now, Emma, her oldest sister, had emailed her last night telling her that she was falling in love with U.S. Army Captain Khalid Shaheen, a fellow Apache gunship pilot, who was in Afghanistan with her. Funnily enough, as Casey moved through the sheets of paper to find her schedule, Emma’s words echoed in her head: All Khalid has to do is speak to me and I feel like this warm velvet energy surrounds me. I feel his love, his care. I’ve never felt anything like it in my life. This must be love. Have you ever had this experience, Casey?
Casey could now email her back after work and tell her that yes, she not only understood, but had experienced this herself. But love? Giving an internal shake of her head, Casey decided she was not ready for love. She wasn’t ready for a man—any man—in her life, either. She was still too wounded to reach out and trust any of them right now.
As Matt leaned forward, their heads bare inches from one another as they studied their respective schedules, Casey felt suddenly joyous. The emotion was so foreign to her since her own tragedy, that it caught her completely off guard. Taking in a deep, shaky breath, she tried to quell the feeling. The sensation she felt was like a hawk flying free after a long imprisonment. She gave Matt a confused look; he didn’t realize what was happening, his gaze locked on the papers laid out before them. Maybe that was just as well. Casey knew she couldn’t handle his full attention. Better that he was focused on Megan. That little girl was a safe haven for Casey at this moment. Casey was still in a raw state of vulnerability. Megan was safe; Matt was not. She could easily concentrate on the child, and, right now, that was all Casey could handle.
“It looks like this Friday is good for us,” Matt murmured, looking up. Casey was so close that he could smell her feminine scent, jasmine in bloom. He wondered obliquely if she washed her shining brown hair with a jasmine shampoo. The fragrance intoxicated him and his gaze dropped to her mouth. Her lips were parted and Casey was so close…so close that all he had to do was move three inches forward and he could kiss her senseless. Electrified by the awareness, Matt suddenly straightened so they weren’t so close. He saw so much in Casey’s eyes. Her pupils were dilated, huge and black, and were centered on him. Feeling as if he were spinning out of emotional control, as if someone had lifted the gate on so many of his suppressed feelings, Matt gulped and tried to appear unaffected by her nearness.
“Uh…yes, Friday is good,” Casey stammered. She sat upright on the stool, wanting as much room between herself and him as she could get. Matt was simply too raw and male. He appealed to her feminine senses on a visceral and primal level. There was a raw neediness now clamoring deep in her body, something Casey had never felt before. As if she were hungry for Matt in every possible way a woman could want her man. Shaken, Casey managed in a hoarse tone, “What time on Friday? And does Dr. Ward have any suggestions on how I’m to interface with Megan?”
Matt blinked, feeling as though he was coming out of the deep freeze insofar as his emotions were concerned. Giving himself a stern, internal lecture, he said, “Yes. She suggested we take Megan after school over to the raptor rehabilitation center that Katie runs. I’ve already cleared a visit from us and Katie is excited. She feels that Hank will continue his magic on Megan.”
“Oh, good,” Casey said. The raptor center was a safe place. Right now, Casey did not want to be feeling trapped inside Matt’s beautiful home with him. “And after the visit? Is there more?”
“Katie has a coloring book that she uses with children. She thought if all goes well, that Megan can sit in her office and use crayons to draw Hank. And there’s other raptors in the book, too. We’re just supposed to be in the background at this point. Barbara said we just have to play it by ear. If Megan wants to do the coloring project, Barbara is interested whether she’ll give one of us the drawing.”
“And if she does?”
“It shows bonding,” Matt said. “If Megan asks for your help, or wants you near or wants some kind of connection with you while she colors, Barbara feels that’s a good sign, too.”
“Of what? Bonding?”
Nodding, Matt said, “Yes.” He bit back the rest of his comment. Wanting that bonding to happen so badly he could taste it, he saw the uncertainty in Casey’s face. “You have concerns?”
Shrugging, Casey placed her schedule beneath the counter. “I don’t know what bonding means to Dr. Ward. I mean, I’ve never been put in a position like this before, Matt, and I’m worried I’ll say or do the wrong thing. I have fears of making your daughter regress instead of progress.”
Without thinking, Matt reached out and touched her hand for a brief moment. “Look, you can’t do anything wrong,
Casey. I did the wrong thing. I was gone when I should have been home.” He quickly removed his hand. Her flesh was warm and supple.
There was nothing wimpy about Casey. He could tell she was an avid hiker, her legs long, curved and hidden in those dark green trousers. She was an outdoors person like himself.
Shocked by his touch, Casey withdrew her hand. Feeling panicky now, she quickly tucked her hands into her lap where he couldn’t reach them. Yet, she had thrilled to his touch. She had felt how roughened and work-worn his fingers were when they had grazed her flesh. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened,” Casey protested. “You have to go on courses just like I do. You can’t mind-read that something awful will happen to your family when you are away, Matt.”
“I know you’re right,” he said in apology. His fingers ached to touch Casey again. How easy would it be to slide them up her arm, across her proud shoulder and caress her clean, strong jaw? And then, to lean down and brush her lips with his? Shaken to his core, Matt wondered what was going on with him. Barbara Ward had said about six months ago that at some point he would come out of that tunnel of grief and guilt and want to start living again. Was he waking up from that long sleep as a man with desires and sexual needs once more? Had it finally started to happen? Was Casey the trigger?
“I was told that time heals all.” Casey didn’t want to say any more than that. Her parents had flown in to Colorado when she had gone missing on her hike. And they were there at her bedside when she came out of the coma a week later. They had all cried for different reasons. And it had been her parents who told her what had happened because her mind was blank about the attack. One of the last things her mother Alyssa had whispered to her as she leaned over and pressed a kiss to her bandaged brow was, “Time will heal everything, Casey. Everything. You’re going to be fine. I just know it….”
Deadly Silence Page 6