Of course, Gran hadn’t actually given it to her, and maybe she had done that because she’d known it would upset her.
And it still might.
However, while Livvy was off with Ethan on their ice-cream run—which might or might not include veggies—Claire decided to woman-up and read it. If it caused her to crumble, then so be it, but the quickie sex hadn’t just given her an amazing orgasm, it had also apparently made her fearless.
She went back to the sorting room/nursery and picked up the letter. Her fearlessness took a little dip when she actually had it in her hands, but she opened it anyway. One page. Handwritten. Not her mother’s handwriting. Probably not her father’s, either. This was a child’s scrawl so her attention zoomed to the signature on the bottom on the page.
Riley McCord.
Riley had written the letter? Riley? Like Claire, he would have been just ten years old at the time, so why had he written Gran a letter? Riley and Gran saw each other almost daily. Anything he wanted to say, he could have said to her in person.
Couldn’t he?
Claire’s fearlessness turned to shock, and she sank down on the floor to read it.
Dear Mrs. Davidson,
I feel real bad about Claire not having any folks. I know she loves you, but it’s not the same as having a mom and dad, like me. So, I talked to my mom and dad, and we all think they could be Claire’s mom and dad too.
Oh.
The tears came. So did the warm feeling that blanketed her from head to toe. Claire certainly hadn’t seen this coming, and she kept reading, eating up each word that Riley had written two decades ago.
If you don’t mind and if you think Claire would like that, I want her to be part of my family. What do you think? Check yes or no.
The tears had filled her eyes, but Claire could see that Riley had drawn four sets of square boxes. Each set had a yes and no box. The first set was for him.
Which he had checked yes.
The second set was for his mom and dad. Another yes check.
The third was for Gran. And she had checked yes, too.
The last set of boxes was for Claire. It was empty and waiting for her.
There was only one more line at the bottom after Riley’s signature.
PS: Don’t give this to Claire until her birthday.
But Gran hadn’t given it to her. Why? Had she simply forgotten about it?
No.
It was a lifetime ago, but Claire’s mind went back to that birthday. That was around the time Daniel’s parents had started including her in more of their family gatherings. In fact, his parents had given her a tenth birthday party. Since Riley had gone to that party, maybe he’d thought the offer of his parents was no longer necessary. Too bad. Because that would have been an incredible birthday present.
Still was.
Riley had obviously cared for her a long time. Of course, as a child she hadn’t been able to see it, but she could certainly see it now.
She tucked the letter in her pocket and went to the door when she heard Livvy and Ethan coming up the steps of the porch. Judging from the volume and intensity of the giggling, no veggies had been consumed today. But that didn’t matter. Smiling, Claire walked to the door, not in a hurry, but rather taking her time to look at the wallpaper-free walls. The floors that she’d finished. The fresh coats of paint.
The house itself.
People had always said the house had good bones, and it did. But it had a whole lot more than that.
Livvy opened the door cautiously as if concerned Ethan and she would walk in on a naked mommy and Riley. No nakedness. Just Claire smiling. Her smile must have looked a little off balance, though, because Livvy looked concerned.
“He only had one scoop,” Livvy said, motioning toward the smears of chocolate ice cream around Ethan’s mouth. Ethan took off running after Gogh.
“It’s okay.” Claire couldn’t help it. She kept smiling. It felt as if everything had suddenly become crystal clear.
“Well?” Livvy asked, bobbling her eyebrows.
Normally, Claire didn’t like to spill any sex details to Livvy, but she’d make a small exception this time. “It was great.”
Perfect in fact. Despite her butt burns, those twenty minutes had been amazing. Better yet, she was going to get more than twenty minutes of amazing tonight when she went to Riley’s for dinner.
Claire wasn’t sure how long their sex agreement would last, and she decided not to worry about it. She couldn’t hog-tie Riley and make him stay, but now that she knew just how much he cared about her, how much he’d always cared, she would just enjoy every minute she had with him.
“That’s a big smile,” Livvy observed. “Did something else happen? Like maybe a marriage proposal?”
Claire waved that off. “I read the letter.”
That got rid of some of the joy and speculation on Livvy’s face. “You what? You did that while Riley was here?”
“No. After he left. But it’s okay, Livvy. Everything’s okay.” Claire looked around and knew exactly what she wanted to do. “I’ve decided not to sell the house. I’m moving back home.”
* * *
THERE WAS ONE last thing Riley needed to do before his hot date with Claire, and it wasn’t something he especially wanted to do. However, he had to give Claire the note from Lucky, and Riley didn’t want to wait and have her have to deal with it during dinner. Best to clear it out of the way rather than risk having it spoil the entire evening.
Of course, she’d be surprised to see him so soon after their sex-by-the-door encounter. Even more surprised when she read the note. But Riley hadn’t imagined there’d be a surprised look on his own face when he arrived at her place.
Surprise from seeing Daniel’s car in front of her house.
Not now. He’d already had too many doses of Daniel in the past couple of weeks.
Riley spotted his old friend right away because Daniel was on the porch. Claire, in the doorway. Well, it didn’t appear to be another proposal unless Claire was signing a prenup. Or maybe a restraining order. Judging from the glare Daniel gave him, it was the latter.
“She’s not selling the house,” Daniel snarled, and he took the clipboard of papers from her and hurried off the porch.
“I’d done some initial paperwork with him for the listing,” Claire explained, motioning toward a fleeing Daniel. “I had to cancel it, and that required my signature. Or so he said.”
Ah. Maybe Daniel had tried to use it as an excuse to sneak in another proposal after all.
“You’re really not selling?” Riley asked at the same moment that Claire asked, “What are you doing here?”
“I just dropped by to give you something,” he answered. “But you’re really not selling the place?” Riley repeated.
“Nope.” And she seemed pretty happy and sure about that, too. Good. Then Riley was happy for her, as well.
“What about your business, though?”
“Not a problem. I can run it from here just as well as San Antonio. Ethan’s not here,” Claire added when Riley looked around. “Livvy took him and the kitten home with her.”
“Again?” Riley hated to sound so disappointed, and then he remembered he was cooking dinner for Claire at his place so this was a good thing. She opened her mouth to say something, but he kissed her. This was really shaping up to be a great day, and Riley hated to ruin it, but this was something she needed to know.
“Lucky asked me to give you this,” he said, taking the note from his pocket.
He didn’t have to clarify. Claire took one look at the note, another look at his expression, and any trace of her smile disappeared. “It’s about Rocky, my father.”
Riley nodded. “Lucky said you wanted him to ask around. He did, and that’s what he
found.”
“It’s bad?” she asked, studying his eyes.
He lifted his shoulder. Nodded.
She handed him back the note. “Just tell me what it says, then.”
All right. Riley wished there was a good way to say this. There wasn’t. “Maude remembered Rocky. She thought his last name was Lambert, but Lucky did some checking, and it was Landrum. Rocky Landrum. He had cousins in the county but never lived here.”
“Was, had, lived,” she repeated. She paused, gathered her breath. “He’s dead?”
“Yeah.” Riley gave her a moment to let that sink in. “But there’s some good news in this. Possibly good,” he amended. “Rocky got a job working on an offshore oil rig when he found out your mother was pregnant.” Riley had to pause. “He was killed his first week out there in a freak accident. No one told your mother because she wasn’t listed as his next of kin.”
Claire stayed quiet a moment. “That’s why he never came back.”
Yes, and all her mother’s anger over being abandoned was for nothing. Because Rocky hadn’t abandoned her, or Claire, after all. In fact, it appeared Rocky had gotten the job so he could support Claire and her mother. Riley hoped she would see the silver lining in that, but the bottom line was her father was dead.
She tried to smile, stepped back and held up her finger in a give-me-a-second gesture. “I’m okay,” she insisted. “Knowing is better.”
In a day or two, she might actually believe that.
Riley was about to try to hug her again and to ask if she needed a rain check on their dinner plans but his phone rang, and he fished it from his pocket. His heart stopped a moment when he looked at the screen, and he saw the number for Colonel Becker.
“I’d better take this on the porch,” Riley said, and he went outside. “Captain McCord,” he answered.
“Just got a call from your new commanding officer, Colonel Hagan. You need to report to the base at fifteen thirty today for a physical.”
Fifteen thirty? That was three thirty civilian time and just two hours from now. “The physical was scheduled for next week,” Riley reminded him. Eight more days. Eight more days that Riley needed to get ready.
“Sorry, but there was a change in plans. Someone put the wrong date on your medical leave. The flight surgeon will do the physical, and if you pass it, be ready to report to duty ASAP.”
The colonel didn’t say good luck or any other farewell. He just hung up, leaving Riley to stand there, stunned, with the phone still pressed to his ear.
He finally turned, ready to tell Claire the news, but she was in the doorway, her hands bracketed on each side of the jamb. She wasn’t crying, but it seemed to him that she was blinking awfully fast, maybe to stave off some tears. Maybe because she just didn’t know how else to react.
“I heard,” Claire said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THERE WERE PLENTY of thoughts going through Riley’s head. The physical that he’d just taken. The results that were in a computer file, a file that he’d know all about as soon as Colonel Hagan briefed him.
Whenever that would be.
It was already past normal duty hours, but the colonel was apparently still tied up with meetings. His exec officer had told Riley to wait in the outer office, that the colonel would see him as soon as he was free.
There were so many questions about his future. So much riding on what was going to happen in the next half hour or so. But the one thing that Riley consistently kept seeing was the look on Claire’s face when she’d overheard his phone call. In a way her overhearing it had made it a little easier.
Because Riley hadn’t had to say the words aloud.
Hadn’t had to answer her questions, either, because she hadn’t asked any. Claire had simply kissed him goodbye and asked him to call her when he had any news. It was a polite, no-pressure kind of comment.
Sort of like their sex pact.
But Riley figured she had started crying the moment he left. Hopefully she’d called Livvy to bring Ethan home, too. Riley really didn’t want her being alone right now. He was, and he knew that sucked.
He had considered calling Lucky, but he was still at the hospital with Dixie Mae. He hadn’t bothered trying to get in touch with Logan, but Riley had told Della and Stella where he was going. Of course, they’d guessed, too, when he’d come out of his bedroom wearing his uniform.
His phone dinged with a text, a reminder for him to turn it off, but he checked the message first. It was from Logan. Anything yet?
So, Della and Stella had already told him. Riley didn’t answer because the colonel’s door finally opened, and the exec—a young captain—ushered him in. The colonel wasn’t alone. Colonel Becker was there. The hospital commander, as well.
Hell. This couldn’t be good. It felt more like a firing squad than a meeting.
Riley reported in, and Colonel Hagan immediately asked him to sit. Only Hagan had papers in front of him, which meant the other two had likely been briefed already as to what was going on.
“You didn’t pass the physical, Captain,” Hagan said. Without any warning or fanfare.
Oh, man. Hearing that nearly knocked the breath right out of him. Riley fought to gather what breath he needed just so he could speak.
“I can retake it,” Riley insisted.
The trio mumbled some variation of no. Nos that went straight to his gut. “The PT and the flight surgeon don’t believe you’re going to regain the mobility necessary for you to remain a Combat Rescue Officer,” Hagan informed him.
There was a term in the Air Force, military bearing, that meant maintaining an outward appearance of being professional, being a serviceman in uniform. Usually it wasn’t a big deal to keep his military bearing, but Riley was sure struggling with it now. It took everything he could muster up just to stay seated and not shout out how wrong this was.
“We’ve already discussed some of this,” Becker continued. “It would endanger your crew if you didn’t have the mobility needed for your job.”
“My experience could make up for it,” Riley argued. “And the mobility issue is temporary. I’ve been working out. The exercises are helping.”
“This isn’t up for discussion,” Hagan snapped. But then his expression softened. “Look, we know this isn’t the news you want to hear. We didn’t want to hear it, either, but we can’t keep you in the Air Force as a Combat Rescue Officer.”
The flashbacks came. Probably because his pulse was galloping and his breathing was too fast. But Riley fought them back.
The kid was alive.
Because of him, the kid was alive.
“You have options,” Hagan went on, the words droning in Riley’s head. “You’ve fulfilled your active duty service commitment so you can get out, of course. We hope you won’t do that. As you said, you have experience you can pass on to others, and that’s where the options come in.”
Riley didn’t want options. He wanted to be a CRO with a shoulder the way it’d been before that damn IED. Because that was repeating in his head now, too, Riley missed the first part of what Hagan said. He didn’t miss the second part though.
“You can become an instructor.”
There it was. One of those soul-crushing options. The Air Force’s version of putting him out to pasture.
“Of course, you’d have to continue your physical therapy,” the hospital commander said. “You’d still have to pass the standard fitness tests.”
“I don’t want to instruct,” Riley said.
Hagan hardly reacted. Maybe because he’d anticipated it. Maybe because he just didn’t give a shit. Riley wondered how the colonel would feel if someone had just told him to give up being what he was.
If someone told him he’d have to be ordinary again.
“There are
other career fields,” Becker said. “With your aptitude scores and security clearances, you could choose whatever you want.”
No, he couldn’t. Riley didn’t go into the broken record mode and repeat himself, but there was no other job he wanted. No other job that wouldn’t feel ordinary after being a CRO.
“Another option would be for you to transfer to the reserves,” Becker continued. “You couldn’t be a CRO, of course, but you could stay in the local area where I understand you have family.”
Weekend Warrior. No, thanks. It was still a huge step down from what he’d been doing.
“We can give you some time to think about it,” Hagan said a moment later. “But not much. We’ll need to have your decision in the next twenty-four hours.”
Somehow Riley nodded. And got to his feet. Somehow he saluted Colonel Hagan and made it to the door.
Keep your military bearing.
He was succeeding, for the most part, until he opened the door and saw Lucky there. Lounging as usual, and he was chatting up a blonde lieutenant who quickly excused herself when she took one look at Riley’s face.
“Wanna go get drunk and raise some hell?” Lucky asked, getting to his feet.
“No.” There was only one place Riley wanted to be right now, only one person he wanted to see.
Claire.
* * *
CLAIRE FORCED HERSELF not to pace while she waited for news. Besides, it wasn’t as if she didn’t have things to do. The last of the boxes had been sorted, and she needed to find places for the stuff she was keeping. The rest she had to haul to the curb for trash pickup. All in all, it felt like the same thing she’d been doing with her life.
Daniel was out forever.
She was keeping Gran’s house, except it’d be her house now. Ethan’s and her home. She’d come to a peaceful place with her mom and dad. Not a perfect place. Never would be. But it didn’t cut and gnaw at her as it’d done in the past.
In short, things were perfect.
Texas on My Mind Page 25