THE RE-ENLISTED GROOM

by Amy J. Fetzer

  Kyle watched her for a few more minutes and was about to turn away when she plucked a black ball cap from a spot on the shelf. It was his. He'd given it to Mimi on their last flight together. He never expected it to garner so high a position in her collection. Nor did he expect Maxie to fold to the floor on her knees, bending over to sob into her hands.

  Kyle swallowed hard, the sound driving through him and shredding his composure. It was such a helpless sound, strained and muffled, and his arms ached to comfort her. Yet he couldn't move.

  His features tightened, and a niggling suspicion darted through his brain.

  He moved away from the door unnoticed, but the rest of the morning he was haunted by the sound of her cries. And the questions racing through his brain without answers.

  "You don't have to do that."

  "I know." Kyle slammed the hammer down on the nail. He could feel her eyes on his back as he lifted a plank and fitted it into place under the porch eaves. Tapping it into position, he scooped a few nails from the pail and secured the wood.

  He'd fixed the back windows, the two stall doors coming off their hinges, hauled horse manure to the nearest farmer who wanted it and still they weren't talking. Oh, they made conversation, idle, non threatening, "dancing around their feelings" talk. But the heart of the matter hovered just on the edge of explosion. Kyle wasn't sure he wanted it to ignite. Not after seeing her cry this morning. He only knew he couldn't take much more of this artificial calm.

  "Lunch is ready. If you're hungry."

  He was, for more than food, he thought, straightening and letting his gaze move over her. She was on the threshold, a dishrag in her hand, a little spot of flour on her cheek. He knew it was old-fashioned to consider the homey picture she presented, but the hard tugging in his chest came anyway.

  "Thanks," he managed to say, setting the hammer aside. The radio perched on the rail squawked with his call letters. Kyle frowned, reaching for it, responding. Seconds later, he collapsed the antenna and said, "Chow will have to wait. I have to go." He quickly collected the tools, leaving her on the porch as he stowed them in the shed. She was there when he returned, standing in the frigid cold. Kyle met her gaze, then looked down at her outstretched hand. She held out his log book and Marine Corps ball cap. He took the book.

  "That's Mimi's," he said, nodding to the cap.

  "No, hers—the one you gave her—is in her room." Maxie swallowed hard and took a step forward. "This is the one you gave me."

  Kyle's features went taut and he reached out, taking the ball cap, turning it over in his hands. He'd put it on her head the day before their wedding. It was new then, yet now looked as worn as the one he'd given her daughter. How often had she worn this for it to be so faded and frayed? And mostly, why … if she was adamant about not letting him into her life? He met her gaze. Her green eyes watered, and he wondered if it was from emotion or the sting of the wind.

  "You kept it?"

  "I kept everything, Kyle." Her gaze shifted over his features, a wistful smile ghosting across her lips. "Even the gum-machine junk."

  A dull red crept up from his neck. "That was so juvenile."

  "I thought it was terribly sweet."

  Kyle scoffed, then rubbed the back of his neck, staring at his boots. He wanted desperately to say something, to change the way they'd been tiptoeing around each other. But he had to leave, and he didn't want to start what he couldn't finish.

  "Be careful," she said, and wanted to touch him.

  His head jerked up. "Do you care, Max?"

  Her expression was infinitely sad. "Never doubt that, Kyle. Never."

  She sounded on the verge of tears, and Kyle stepped closer, reaching, cupping the curve of her jaw and sinking his fingers into her hair. Her entire body trembled, and he realized by the look in her eyes, she was afraid. What had her so worked up that she couldn't come to him?

  "Baby, we have to talk. I can't go on like this."

  Maxie bit her lower lip. "Me, either."

  "But I gotta go."

  "I know." Yet he didn't move.

  "Can I kiss you?"

  Her lips curved softly, and she laid a hand over his heart. "That's the first time you've ever asked."

  Trapped in each other's gaze, Kyle bent, Maxie rose and his mouth brushed over hers, a whisper at first, back and forth. He trembled, his need for her making his throat tight, his knees weak. A tiny sound escaped her, almost a sob. And Kyle pressed his mouth harder to hers. Maxie gripped his jacket, hanging on as he kissed her tenderly, slowly, his tongue moistening her lips. Their breath rushed, and when he drew back, she still held him close, staring into his dark eyes.

  A tear spilled and Kyle's expression crumbled. "Don't cry, Max. Please. I'm sorry for what I said the other day. I had no right—"

  "Shh," she hushed. "No more, not now."

  Later, she was saying. How could he leave now? The radio crackled, and she let go, stepping back and taking the decision away from him. Kyle stared at her for a moment, then looked at the snow-dusted porch.

  "You'd better get in the air," she said. "They need you."

  He looked up, studying her. "All I want to know is do you need me, Max? 'Cause I know I need you."

  He was always so up front, Maxie thought, staring into his dark eyes. She reached out to brush the melting snow from his shoulder, touch his jaw. "Yes, Kyle." Her gaze shifted rapidly over his chiseled features, as if memorizing them. "More than I realized."

  The next moment felt suspended in wintry air, crisp and sharp with unanswered emotion.

  Maxie wanted to change things … her life … maybe his … but she wasn't certain she could risk so much at once.

  There is always a price, she thought, then put distance between them. "Go. I'll be waiting."

  "I'll hurry." Kyle forced himself to turn away from her and march down the steps. Yet he could feel her watching him and resisted the urge to look over his shoulder. He would never leave on the flight, if he did. Apprehension slithered through him as he climbed into the chopper and turned over the engine. This isn't going to be good, he thought, although clearing the air was what he wanted. Kyle just didn't think he was going to come out the winner.

  Maxie watched him lift off, swoop past her, then hover and rock the craft before gaining altitude and veering off toward the morning sun.

  Chopper talk, Mimi called it, and the muscles in her chest squeezed down on her heart as she remembered Kyle and Mimi, their heads together, their profiles nearly the same. At first it had bothered her that they'd struck a friendship, then it pleased her. Yet she still had tremendous reservations about it. But their closeness was as natural as loving Kyle was to her.

  Loving Kyle. It was a hard fact to admit. In the past years she'd buried it, found ways around it, like seeing herself in her daughter instead of Kyle's features. Like refusing to discuss him with her parents, sisters, even herself. His return brought those feelings to life. Not rekindled them, but released them from hiding. She'd never stopped loving him. Never. But her secret held her back.

  She turned back into the house, finishing up the last of her morning chores before heading to the barn. She was tired of always being on guard around Kyle, around her family. Even around Mimi. Yet Mimi was the sole reason she hadn't confronted her emotions, until she'd seen them together. Until she saw the cap he'd given her baby.

  She didn't know what she was going to say to him, still wasn't sure if she could admit to being such a fool. But neither did she feel completely to blame.

  Kyle lowered the chopper to the pad and cut the engine, then once the blades stopped, he gave the signal for the hikers to leave the craft. They thanked him, dripping melting snow in his chopper, and he resisted the urge to shout at them to get the hell out so he could go home.

  Home. He stared out the frosting glass at nothing in particular. Ironic that the one place he hadn't felt welcome at was the one place he wanted to be. The hardest part was admitting that seven years ago, Maxie was ready
to give him a home and family and he'd let it go. He had, not her. Years of feeling mostly angry and sorry for himself were his own damn fault. But the past weeks with Max and Mimi showed Kyle just how much he'd lost. Not just the companionship, the togetherness, but that family he'd hungered for as a kid, and still did. And regardless of what had passed between him and Max, Kyle had turned his back on his feelings for her. Regret tore through him, and Kyle removed his sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger.

  Everyone he'd ever loved left him, he thought. Yet Maxie—he could have gone after her, could have hunted her down. Hell, he hadn't even read the letters she'd sent him. What he wouldn't give to be able to read them now. His pride was a nasty thing. And he was going to have to swallow some of it today.

  Get on with it, then, his conscience prodded. Crank over the engine and go home.

  Inside his gloves, his palms sweated. What he would find at the ranch was anyone's guess. He accepted that he was scared to see her. As much as he wanted to talk, he didn't want her to greet him at the door with his bags and tell him to take a hike, either. Kyle only had days left with the team—maybe even less. In fact one of the regular pilots was in the offices earlier, still looking pale and drawn, but available. His time was over.

  He jolted when something smacked his door, and glared at Jackson. Jackson grinned back and pulled open the hatch.

  "Man, who are you sore at?"

  Myself, he thought, for not seeing what an idiot I've been lately.

  "Got another ran?" Kyle asked.

  Jackson frowned softly. "No. All's quiet, so far." He glanced at the gray sky. "Be on alert though. We're trying to discourage as many people as we can from going into the canyon today. But you know tourists."

  "Yeah, I do. They keep me in business."

  Jackson scoffed. "It's a wonder with the fees you charge, Hayden. You'll be raking in the bucks in a few more days and won't feel the dent this meagerly state-funded contract made to your pocket." Jackson smiled. "Did I say thanks for that yet?"

  "So much it's getting pathetic."

  "Good, I like being pathetic." He grinned. "Attracts the women." He eyed Kyle. "Speaking of women … how's life at the Wind Dancer?"

  "Fine." Tense, he thought. And so fragile.

  "What do you think of Mimi?"

  Kyle smiled for the first time in hours. It almost hurt. "She's great. Smart as a whip."

  "Those eyes will steal your heart, huh?"

  Kyle scoffed, thinking of what a marshmallow he was around the little redhead. "Already have."

  The crew chief laughed. "How many rides did she talk you into so far?"

  "Two or so. She declared that being a chopper pilot was her life's ambition."

  "Bet that went over with Maxine real well."

  Kyle's lips quirked. "Mimi promised not to tell her until she was at least sixteen."

  "Wise move. Don't imagine you got her mother up in this, did you?" Jackson said, with a nod to the chopper.

  "She never asked."

  "Figures. She's afraid of heights."

  Kyle arched a brow. This was news to him.

  "Don't tell her I told you," Jackson said, backing away from the craft. "I'll radio if I need you. Phones have a tendency to go out sometimes. Now get this crate off my triage pad, flyboy." He shut the door and ran back to the warmth of the offices as Kyle turned over the engine.

  He lifted off, taking a sweep of the canyon to see if he could spot Mimi's group before heading to the Wind Dancer. To fight for his life.

  Maxie stood at the edge of the canyon and managed to look down for a brief instant before moving back several yards and sitting on a boulder. It was a feeble attempt to get over her fears and it rarely worked. She did it almost daily and never got used to the rushing vertigo. Bracing her elbows on her knees, she bowed her head. At a distance behind her, her horse pawed the ground for something to nibble. The wind kicked out of the canyon, biting through her jacket. She didn't care. The cold numbed her body.

  Over and over in her mind, she played out what she would say to Kyle. Nothing worked to where either of them didn't come out wounded. She knew she couldn't tell him about Mimi. Not yet. It wasn't a decision she came by lightly. And she wasn't looking for a way to ease her guilt. It was just too much to dump on him just yet. She wanted to come clean with him—and herself.

  I'm getting too old for this, she thought and imagined herself in a few years, alone, Mimi gone off with boyfriends or on to college. She didn't want to be this way, more mentally alone. But she'd buried her feelings for so long, she didn't think she had it in her to admit them to another living soul.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, oblivious to the cold and wind or the nickering horse, her thoughts in the past. On the moment she sat in the hotel room and waited past her wedding ceremony, the awful crushing sensation working through her blood. Maxie swallowed hard, biting back old tears. Whom was she fooling then? What purpose did it serve to leave him like that? Neither of them had been happy since. I've ruined more than my life.

  Then she remembered his face the first moment she saw him again, the anger and distaste. But the memory was overshadowed by his smile, his kisses, the incredible way he looked at her, the heat they shared in the barn. The tightness in her throat increased, and Maxie huddled on the rock, snow sprinkling her hat and back. She tried to think of how this would affect Mimi. But his words came back to her.

  When are you going to step out from behind her and let your feelings go?

  With her head bowed and arms huddled against the wind, Maxie didn't hear the noise until it was too late. Her head jerked up and her eyes widened as the helicopter rose out of the canyon right in front of her like a black specter from hell. Her horse bolted as she scrambled off the rock and back-stepped, glaring at the man at the controls. She turned and ran after the horse, but it was too late. The chestnut mare was already a mile away. Slowing to a walk, she headed toward the barn, her breath steaming the air. Anger spread through her with every step, and she ignored the chopper hovering overhead and kicking up fresh powder. Damn it she was miles from the barn, on foot. Cold feet. She would have to take the main roads instead of the forest. It was good that Mimi was on her field trip, because Maxie knew she wouldn't have made it back in time.

  "Want a lift?" came over the loudspeaker, startling her. She glared up at him. He smiled down through the bubble of glass.

  Kyle lowered the chopper to the ground, cut off the engine and before the blades slowed, he left the craft. Maxie glanced over her shoulder and ran. He chased, catching her arm. Immediately she spun around, punching his shoulder, then punching again.

  "Don't do that again. You scared the life out of me!"

  "You seem pretty alive right now. Ow," he said when she caught him on the chin.

  But she wasn't letting up and shoved at his chest with both hands, making him stumble back. "Damn you, Kyle Hayden! You always do stupid things like that! You like scaring me. You liked being scared more than you loved me!"

  He took a step forward. "That's not true and you know it."

  "Isn't it? You never cared what happened to me, never bothered to see that when you took all those risks, you were risking our future!"

  "I wasn't thinking of the future then. I was gung-ho. Young. Stupid."

  "And ready to die. God, how I hated that about you sometimes," she hissed, and the frost of her breath hazed the air. "I hated that you were a marine and a war rushed us." She advanced, in his face with each word. "I hated that I wasn't worth it to you to let me know you were alive! And I hated you when you sent back my letters and told your brother to talk to me instead of doing it yourself!" With her last word, she shoved him again.

  He caught her against him, and she tried wiggling free. He wouldn't let her go. "What else did you hate, baby?"

  She tipped her head and stared into his eyes. Hers were filled with unshed tears. "That I put faith in my love for you and I lost."

  His expres
sion crumbled. "You left me, Max, not the other way around."

  "What do you call turning your back on me? I wanted to slow down, not stop completely. Never that. But you never came back, never called. You couldn't be bothered…" Her voice fractured. Her lip trembled.

  Kyle steeled himself against the heart-wrenching sight of it. "Damn it, Max. Don't dump this all on me. You ran, you took the easy way out. You always do."

  "You said you loved me, and I trusted it!"

  "I did love you." I still do, he thought, yet wasn't sure she was ready to hear it.

  "Not enough to come to me!" She broke free.

  "Because I was sure you didn't want me. I didn't want to admit that I had any part in it. It was better to blame you." He threw his arms wide. "Hell, I even told a few guys that I dumped you. My pride was in ruins, Max. I couldn't face what I'd done to bring it on. I was alone before." He shrugged. "I could do it again."

  He was quiet for a long moment looking anywhere but at her. When he finally did, her knees turned to water at the desolation in his eyes.

  "But I couldn't understand what made me so incapable of keeping anyone from walking out on me. What was so repulsive about me that no one wanted to love me?"

  She moaned in sympathy, and his expression grew more miserable.

  "I know it's pathetic and childish. But God, Max, until we met I didn't belong anywhere … except with you."

  Maxie's expression crumbled, and she took a step. "Oh, Kyle—"

  "Don't. I don't deserve it. I've had to face a lot in the last few days, and recognizing that my selfishness cost me a future isn't something I could easily admit so let me get this out."

  She nodded, silent tears falling.

  "I ignored what you were feeling, didn't want to listen, because I was terrified that you didn't love me, that I wasn't good enough to be your husband."

  She shook her head wildly, brushing at her tears.

  "Chasing danger wasn't for the rush of excitement but for the look on your face when I did it. The way you ran to me and held me so damn tight." He clenched his fists in front of him, shaking them. "Like you never wanted to let go. And I needed that Max. Danger tested us. But you kept loving me, even when I was in the hospital and knew you were mad about the bungee jump, even then I needed to know you'd keep loving me, no matter what stupid risk I took." He wet his lips and swallowed. "So you see … I tried so hard to hold on, but I couldn't do it right." His shoulders moved. "I didn't know how."