by Lois Richer
“A mystery man.”
“He’s very good to Tillie and Margaret and he always lets us girls know if there’s an issue, though by the time we get here, he’s usually taken care of what needs doing,” she added with a smile. “The church family is very protective of them, too. You met Mrs. Marsh?”
“A very determined housekeeper. Refused to allow me to launder Mikey’s and my clothes.” Ben arched one eyebrow. “I think she believes I’ll wreck the machines.”
“She has her—”
“Standards,” Ben finished with a chuckle. “So she’s said. Repeatedly.” He rolled his eyes at Victoria’s amusement.
“Anyway, my aunts have many good friends nearby, but the reality is they’re still alone in the boonies. For now.” Victoria tossed him a frown. “Your talk with the aunts this time seemed to go long. Was there an issue?”
“The prospective parents they suggested interviewing aren’t suitable. They already have their own family. Mikey would be competing. But I was actually detained by your Aunt Margaret and her computer.” He didn’t want to tattle but—
“Don’t tell me she’s downloading games again.” Exasperation colored Victoria’s voice. “She always insists a new game is going to be better than the fifty she already has.”
“Don’t worry.” Ben waved to Mikey who was skiing down an incline toward them and apparently loving it, if the grin on his face was any indication. “I sorted it out for her,” he said.
“How?” Victoria frowned.
“Mostly I cleaned up the drives but it’s still not very fast. Patience isn’t your Aunt Margaret’s strong suit, is it?” When Victoria snorted with laughter, he nodded. “That’s why I suggested she buy a new computer, one that will run her games at the proper speeds.”
“You didn’t?” For the first time since she’d met him, Victoria ignored Mikey, who now skied toward them. Instead she glared at Ben. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done, Major?”
“No,” Ben admitted, now completely confused and wishing he hadn’t interfered. “What?”
“Thanks to you, Margaret is now going to want me to take her to Edmonton to shop for a new computer. The process will take days because she’ll have to research each one to ensure she’s getting the best deal.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “Aunt Maggie researches everything. In that regard, she is very patient.”
“But—”
“Tillie will want to come along. Quilt fabric is her weakness,” she explained, her voice tight.
“But—” Ben bit his lip when she again interrupted.
“I’m supposed to get The Haven ready for this onslaught of kids. I don’t have time to waste shopping in the city.” Victoria shook her head. “I wish you’d talked to me before you suggested Aunt Maggie shop for a new computer, Ben.”
“I didn’t suggest she do that,” he said loudly then felt a wash of shame as Mikey’s eyes stretched in surprise. “No shopping trip is necessary. She picked one out online. It’s already ordered,” he added quietly.
“No shopping trip?” Victoria blinked. “Really?”
“Really. I set up a spreadsheet to compare different models. She studied it and chose one. We’ve also packed up a lot of the, er, junk that won’t work with her new computer. We’re going to take it to the seniors’ center in town to see if they can use it.” Ben gulped when Victoria threw her arms around him and hugged him as if he’d saved her life. He’d never particularly liked invasion of his personal space, but he liked her hug. “Don’t thank me yet,” he warned.
She stepped back, face wary. “Why?”
“Her new computer comes with a gift certificate for seven games.” He waited, but Victoria only laughed.
“Good.”
“That’s it?” He couldn’t believe it. “After reaming me out—”
“Sorry. I should be thanking you.” Victoria’s eyes sparkled, giving life to her pale face. After a moment, she asked in a troubled tone, “How do you feel about meeting new parents for Mikey? Are you hesitant? And what about when you have to explain it to him?”
“I’ll make him understand,” Ben assured her. Somehow. “I think your aunt feels her old board games might make her seem out of step with the younger generation.”
He worried she wouldn’t take the bait and change of subject when she gazed at him with that probing stare that made him nervous. Then she shrugged.
“I will gladly light the match to burn those old board games in a campfire, just to be rid of them.” Victoria’s eyes narrowed. “How do you come to know so much about computers, Major?”
“Daddy said Unca Ben’s a ’puter genie,” Mikey chirped.
“Genius,” Ben corrected. “And I’m not.”
“Daddy said.” Mikey was firm. “Hey, c’n I ski over there?”
“You can go as far as that old burnt-out jack pine tree, then turn around and come right back. Okay?” When the boy hurried away, Victoria turned back to Ben. “A computer genius, huh? And you let us think you’re an ordinary peacekeeper,” she chided.
“I am. Computers are just a hobby. Actually, computer games are my hobby. I make them up,” he confessed.
“Really?” Victoria looked at him differently, but he couldn’t tell if it was with admiration or because she thought he was some sort of tech geek. “Do tell, Ben.”
“Not much to tell. There’s a lot of downtime with peacekeeping, so I spend it playing with computers.” Ben didn’t want to reveal too much about his solitary life, though he could see questions building in Victoria’s expressive eyes.
“How’d you get started?” she wanted to know.
“When they get off duty, most of the guys like to let off steam, relax by partying. I’m not much into that,” he admitted and wondered if she found him boring. “I shared quarters with a guy, Brian, who spent a lot of time on his computer. Long story short—he got me started.”
“That was nice. Do you still keep in touch?”
“Brian was killed on a mission.” Ben didn’t want to remember how he’d lost the best friend he’d ever had. Computers were much easier than emotions and relationships. “Turns out, I have more of an affinity with computers than I do with people.”
“I don’t believe that,” she said firmly. “You’re great with Mikey and the aunts.”
“Thanks,” Ben said, struggling not to feel too pleased by her compliment. “Anyway, Brian’s the one who started me thinking about my future, about when I leave the military.”
“Oh?” Victoria studied his face as if the answer lay there.
“Someday, I hope to open a little store to help people with their computer issues, kind of like I helped Margaret.” Ben shrugged. “So far it’s just a dream, but I’m socking away every spare dime in hopes of one day making it come true.”
“I think it’s a great idea.” She waved at Mikey, who’d reached the designated tree, then turned her pensive gaze back on him. “No reason why you couldn’t start your business now, is there, Ben? Then you could stay in Canada and raise Mikey.”
As if he hadn’t thought of that. And rejected it.
“You can’t?” Victoria’s frown demanded an explanation.
“I don’t have enough saved to withstand the first few years of building a business. That’s something a lot of start-up small businesses don’t plan for—the first few lean years of getting established are risky. I need to have lots of reserves and I don’t. Yet.”
“Hmm.” She studied him for a moment in that way he recognized as an internal debate on whether or not to speak her mind.
“Say it,” Ben said, heart sinking. He just knew she was going to bug him again about keeping Mikey, and he was already having second and third thoughts about his plan to find the boy a good home. Yet inside his deepest heart, he knew he couldn’t be Mikey’s dad. It wasn’t just the lack of money—it was the lack in him.
“The aunts would have my head for asking such an indelicate question, but—” Victoria paused then blurted, “Did
Mikey’s parents have insurance?”
“Yes. A little. But that’s for his future. College, to buy a home, whatever he wants.” He had to squelch the speculation he saw rising in her eyes. “I’m not touching it.”
“Not even to keep Mikey with you?” she asked softly.
“No.” Ben shook his head. “Anyway, I don’t believe having me as a parent is his best option.”
“He loves you, Ben.”
“I know that. And I love him.” He wanted to change the subject so Victoria wouldn’t see how desperately he wished he could be the kind of parent Mikey needed.
“You’re all he has now.” Her whispered comment struck straight at Ben’s heart, but he shoved away the pain with grim determination.
“I know. Poor kid. That’s exactly why I need to find him a better option,” he said. “Nobody should be stuck with me as their parent. I learned that long ago.” Turning away, he beckoned to Mikey. When the boy skied up to them, he asked, “Are you cold?”
“Nope.”
“Then let’s go for a walk. I want to test out my ankle.” A sense of loss almost overwhelmed Ben as Mikey quickly agreed. While he freed the boy of his skis, he wondered how many more chances he’d have to spend with his nephew before relinquishing his care to someone else. “Aren’t you coming with us?” he asked when Victoria hoisted the skis to one shoulder and turned toward the house.
“No. I’ll take these back to The Haven and make us some cocoa. You guys go ahead.”
As Ben watched her walk away, he was aware of a growing distance between them. Had he disappointed her? Victoria’s opinion had come to mean a lot in the short time he’d known her. He wanted to see approval on her lovely face—approval for him. He wanted that very badly.
But not enough to risk Mikey’s future.
Maybe if she knew what…no. That memory was too ugly to share with anyone.
*
What was with Ben, anyway?
Victoria plodded through the snow toward The Haven, struggling to accept his refusal to stay and raise Mikey.
“Can’t You do something?” she prayed aloud. “It isn’t right that Mikey will be raised by someone else when he and Ben love each other so much.”
But as usual, it seemed her prayers hit an impenetrable ceiling. She had a hunch there was something else going on with Ben, something more than his feelings of inadequacy to the task of fatherhood. Something that added to the burden he carried about his brother. But what?
Frustrated, Victoria stored Mikey’s skis in the garage and went inside. Tillie and Margaret sat at the big kitchen table, snuggling steaming mugs.
“How did the skis work?” Margaret asked as she poured Victoria a cup of cocoa.
“Great. I don’t know how Jake got such a great trail made.” She shed her outdoor gear, accepted the cup and sat down, too.
“Ben helped him create some sort of gizmo he attaches to the snowmobile. It’s quite ingenious,” Margaret mused.
“Are you all right, dear?” Tillie asked. “You looked troubled when you came in.”
Victoria decided to probe. Her aunts had a gift for learning what was in the hearts of the service men and women to whom they wrote.
“Ben loves Mikey. I can’t figure out why he feels compelled to find him another family. Why doesn’t he want to raise Mikey himself?”
“Why don’t you ask him?” Tillie said, but she didn’t look at Victoria.
“I did. All he says is that he won’t make a good father because he failed his brother.” The aunts’ placid faces gave nothing away, so she pressed on. “But his brother straightened up, built a life for himself. He got past his mistakes. So why can’t Ben now be the father his nephew needs?”
“We can’t answer that, dear.” Tillie rose and placed her cup in the dishwasher. When she turned to face Victoria, tears glittered on her eyelashes. “You have to ask Ben.”
“Oh,” she whispered, heart pinching at her aunt’s tender heart.
“Get him to talk about his work overseas,” Margaret suggested. She rose, wrapped her arm around her sister’s waist and together they walked from the room. “Let’s work on a crossword, sister. That always helps soothe the heart.”
“Why overseas?” Victoria frowned at the dogs curled up on the floor on top of a heat register. “I thought Ben said he couldn’t parent Mikey because of his brother.”
She was so lost in her questions about handsome Ben that she was startled when the back door opened and Ben and Mikey burst inside.
“I saw a deer, Vic! It was he-uge.” Mikey almost tore off his snowsuit in his excitement. “I gotta tell Miss Tillie and Miss Margaret. Where are they?”
“In the study, I think.” Victoria smiled as he raced from the room. “He’s a bit excited.”
“You think?” Ben hung up the clothing, removed his boots and then padded to the table. A shake of the carafe made him smile. “Just what I need.” He poured a mug of cocoa and sat down across from her. “You looked pensive when we came in. Anything wrong?”
Victoria was about to deny it when she had second thoughts. She could at least ask Ben about his work.
“I was just thinking. You said you were posted in Africa?” She watched him nod as her brain chose and discarded words to ask what she desperately wanted to know. “Can you tell me about it?”
“Why?” He frowned, blue eyes turning navy.
“So I’ll know something about what you do.” She ducked her head, pretending to study the contents of her almost-empty mug. “You stand guard, is that it?”
“Among other things.” Did he relax just a little? “It’s not glamorous or exciting, Victoria. It’s day after day of trying to keep the peace.”
“But what’s it like?” she pressed, realizing she really did want to know. “Are there families living there? Are there kids?”
Ben winced. “Both,” he muttered.
“It’s always the most helpless that suffer in war, isn’t it?” she said. “Talk to me, Ben.”
“Bambari is a town in the Central African Republic. The United Nations Peacekeeping force is tasked with the protection of civilians and also supports the transition process to new government, facilitates humanitarian assistance, promotes and protects human rights, disarmament, reintegration and repatriation processes.” He stopped, looked at her and then gulped. “Sorry. That’s the official line we’re told to give.”
“Sounded like it.” Something told Victoria to keep him talking. “Is it very hot most of the time?”
“It’s warm, but mostly it’s muggy and frequently cloudy. December and January are the most comfortable.” Was Ben becoming less tense?
“The official language is French, right?” At his nod she asked, “So you’re bilingual?”
“I’m fully fluent in French and English, but I can get by in several languages. Turns out I have a facility for them,” he said in a self-deprecating tone. What a lot she didn’t know about this intriguing man.
“What do you like best about Bambari?” Victoria held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t shut down as shadows crossed his face.
“The people. Their smiles. The kids—” He stopped, clamped his lips together.
“Aunt Tillie and Aunt Margaret had a soft spot for the kids they ministered to in Africa, too. Watch out if anyone hurt one of them. My aunties are tigers for kids.”
“I know.” Something was wrong. Victoria could tell from the muscle flickering in Ben’s rock-hard jaw.
“What did I say?” She reached out and covered his fisted hand with her fingers. “What’s wrong, Ben?” He didn’t respond, so she let go, cleared her throat and said, “You know my secret. Can’t you confide in me?”
He lifted his head and stared at her for a very long time. Victoria had almost given up hope, when he finally spoke.
“His name was Issa.” Ben’s face was inscrutable. “I think he was about six years old.”
She said nothing, held her breath and prayed he’d continue.
&nbs
p; “We were on patrol when I spotted him under an acacia tree.” Ben’s mouth tightened. “He was dying of starvation.”
Victoria drew in her breath, aghast at the thought.
“I carried him to the hospital.” For a moment, a spark lit Ben’s blue eyes. “They kept him for several months, and he began to thrive.”
“That’s great.” But Victoria knew there was more.
“He was such a sweet kid. I was concerned about finding his family so I visited him as often as I could. When I learned his family had all been killed in the civil war, I started to bring him things—a little toy to amuse him, a shirt to replace his ruined one, whatever he needed. The day Issa finally spoke to me was a big deal. We became real pals.”
Ben cleared his throat and blinked several times. He seemed riveted by something outside the window but she knew it was a facade, a space of time to find the control he seldom lost.
“Tell me what happened, Ben,” she begged when it seemed he’d never speak again.
“There were so many kids to treat. When Issa was deemed healthy enough, they sent him about seventy miles away to a camp for displaced persons, to make room for other sick children.” His voice choked up. He paused before continuing. “I did all I could but Issa was taken away. The only thing I had time to do was slip him a few francs.”
“But Issa was fed at the camp, right? Taken care of?” Victoria didn’t like Ben’s sideways glance.
“You’d think so.” He simply stared at her.
“Something bad happened.” Her throat tightened. “Tell me.”
“I tried hard to keep track of Issa, to make sure he was being cared for.” Ben pushed away his mug. “He knew how to read a little so I wrote to him. I never heard back. I wasn’t allowed to visit the camp, either. All I could do was pray for him.”
“Oh, Ben.” Victoria’s heart ached for the situation he’d been in and for the child she knew he’d loved.
“One day, Issa appeared at our base. He’d walked for days to see me. He was so thin and bedraggled, but he was so proud. He had a gift for me.” A heartbreaking smile filled with sadness flickered across his lips. “He could barely stand up on his thin little legs, but he’d brought me something.” Ben’s voice cracked. He took a minute to recover before continuing. “I insisted he eat something before I opened it. I was on my way back to him with food when an explosive device went off. Issa was killed.”