To Love, Honor and Defend

by Beth Cornelison

  A chill prickled his scalp. As a teenager, he’d seen that fear in his mother’s eyes.

  “But if you didn’t put it in that box, then where did it come from?” Her voice trembled, and the first sparkle of tears glistened in her eyes, landing a sucker punch in his gut. Damn.

  More than anything, he wanted to tell her what she wanted to hear, whatever would chase away the shadow of fear and sadness that stole over her. Why the hell did a stupid notepad warrant tears? He flexed and balled his hands at his sides, hating that he didn’t know how to ease her worry. “I don’t know. Libby, what’s going on?”

  The sheen of tears in her eyes grew brighter. Wrenching inside, he stepped toward her, wanting to draw her into his arms, comfort her. But she spun away.

  Holding her back stiff, she tossed the notepad aside and raked her fingers through her sleep-tousled hair. “That’s what I thought. It wasn’t logical that you’d do something like this to antagonize me. You’d never do anything to hurt your case to get Ally. But…I had to be sure.”

  He watched her as she jammed a slice of bread in the toaster, her hands shaking. Hell, her whole body trembled. A cold dread knotted his stomach.

  “I don’t follow. Had to be sure about what, Libby?”

  Finally, she turned, drawing a deep breath into her lungs. “Remember when I told you that I’ve been receiv—”

  Her eyes darted to a spot over his shoulder, and she schooled her face, wiping it of emotion. “We’ll talk later.”

  Puzzled, he turned and found Ally standing in the doorway and rubbing her eyes. When his daughter raised her head, a tiny smile flickered across her lips. “Daddy’s here.”

  Ally’s grin sent gooey warmth straight to his heart.

  “Hey, kitten.” He stepped over to scoop her into his arms and give her a bear hug. “D’you sleep okay in that big new bed?”

  Ally bobbed her head and scanned the room. “Where’s kitty?”

  “Jewel is eating her breakfast, sweetie,” Libby said, her tone now void of the anguish that had tangled him up moments ago. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he’d imagined the tears in her eyes, the quaver in her voice.

  The poised, detached prosecutor was back.

  What would it take to penetrate those defensive walls and get her to open up to him? The physical intimacy they’d shared five years ago had shaken him to the core, but he wanted more. He wanted the spiritual connection he’d only seen glimpses of before he’d had to give her up. Before Libby, he’d never seen himself spending his life with one woman. After Libby, he’d couldn’t imagine his life with anyone else.

  Yet here they were, married, living under the same roof—but still miles apart. Cal grimaced. Somehow he had to win back Libby’s trust, find the woman he’d fallen in love with before life had thrown him a curveball.

  He turned his focus from his new wife to his daughter. “I bet you’re ready for some breakfast, too. Huh, kitten?”

  He stroked the rumpled curls away from her eyes and kissed her cheek. “What’ll it be? Cereal? Toast? I bet Libby’s got some eggs.”

  While Cal greeted Ally with a morning hug, Libby watched the father and daughter, her heart in her throat. She’d known that a man who was this gentle and loving with his little girl couldn’t be sending her ugly, threatening letters. Not only was Cal not the type to terrorize a woman, but his stalking her would serve no purpose, would hurt his chances of winning custody of Ally.

  Still, hearing Cal confirm her belief that the pad wasn’t his did little to calm the icy fear that had kept her awake through the night. It left only two possibilities she could see.

  Either her stalker was trying to frame Cal, or the creep was toying with her emotions, leaving proof that he’d breached the sanctity and safety of her home.

  When Cal had moved his possessions to her house, his boxes had been outside, in the bed of his truck as he’d unloaded. While Cal carried a load into the house and unpacked, her stalker could have easily sneaked up to Cal’s truck and slipped the notepad into an unguarded box. And he’d have had time to get away or hide before Cal came back out again. So simple. Too simple. Libby shuddered and swallowed the bile that rose in her throat.

  “You smell funny,” Ally told Cal, wrinkling her nose.

  Cal chuckled. “Gee, thanks.”

  He ruffled Ally’s hair then set her in a chair, which he scooted over to the open cabinet. “I stink because I haven’t gotten a chance to shower since I got home from work. So tell me what you want for breakfast, and I’ll go get cleaned up. Okay?”

  Libby tried to quiet the anxious flutter in her gut, wanted to enjoy the relaxed rapport between Cal and his daughter, but she couldn’t. The stalker’s threat had invaded her safe haven, her home. The danger was that much closer to Cal and Ally.

  She’d underestimated the stalker’s potential, the lengths he’d go to. Or perhaps she’d just been in denial. Either way, she should have insisted they wait to get married.

  As soon as Cal got Ally her breakfast, she’d talk to him, tell him about her chilling discovery.

  Ally stood in the chair and studied the shelf’s contents.

  After a moment she pointed and said, “Chips!”

  “Potato chips?” Cal made a comical face of exasperation and buzzed his lips in dismissal. “Chips aren’t for breakfast!”

  Ally pouted and pointed again. “Chips!”

  “Hey, Libby likes this stuff,” he said taking down her box of bran cereal. “And this is what Jewel is having. Want some cat food?” He grinned, obviously thinking he was clever, but Libby could see the wheels start turning in the child’s head, the gleam of challenge in her eyes.

  Uh-oh.

  “Cat food!” Ally grabbed the box and hugged it to her chest.

  Cal rolled his eyes and grimaced. “Uh, honey, daddy was just kidding. Little girls don’t eat cat chow.”

  “No!” Ally wailed when he tried to pry the box from her hands. “Cat food!”

  Libby almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Let him learn the hard way what happens when you offer a young child too many choices, wrong choices. Life was simply easier within the framework of basic guidelines. Limited decisions between black-and-white options. Structure. Reason.

  “How about a piece of toast?” Cal asked over his daughter’s howl of protest as he put the cat food back on the shelf.

  The girl’s cries did little for Libby’s jittery mood. She gulped her coffee, needing the caffeine reinforcement.

  Cal pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “Will you handle this? I’m going to get my shower.”

  Her coffee went down the wrong pipe, and she sputtered. “Me handle it? But you—”

  “I’m sorry. But I’m too tired to think straight, much less appease a screaming four-year-old.”

  She gaped in disbelief as he backed toward the door with an apologetic smile. “Wait! You can’t leave me to deal with this.”

  “Please, Lib. Will you just…make her some cereal or something?” Cal turned his back and walked out of the kitchen, already tugging off his shirt.

  His retreat chafed already raw emotions, scraped old wounds that had hovered close to the surface in recent days.

  Libby, I’m sorry, but I have to marry Renee. It’s over between us.

  Resurrected pain and resentment swept through her veins with a blindsiding force. Shoving away from the counter, she marched into the hall, trailing him.

  “I should have known it would be like this,” she growled. “When things get tough, you walk away.” The sharp edge in her voice surprised even her.

  Cal stopped. Turned. His dark brows furrowed in consternation. “Excuse me?”

  “I know how it feels to have you walk out, and I know that your daughter deserves better than that. She needs to know she can depend on you to be there for her!”

  He scowled and raised a hand. “Hey, hold it down. I don’t want Ally to hear us and think we’re fighting.”

  Guilt pinched her. Sh
e didn’t want to argue in front of his daughter, either. She kicked herself mentally for letting Cal rile her, for letting him under her skin. For letting him make her feel enough to lose control.

  In a calmer voice, she said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. But did it occur to you that Ally was testing you? Your daughter needs someone she can count on for the rough times, for the long haul. When are you going to realize that when you balk, when you shirk your responsibility, people get hurt?”

  “Hell.” He dragged a hand over his face then rubbed the scar on his chin with his thumb. “You know that’s what this marriage is about. I fully intend to be there for Ally.”

  For Ally. But what about for her?

  Libby shoved that thought aside. She didn’t need Cal. She’d taken care of herself for too long to rely on anyone else now.

  Cal closed the distance between them, a troubled gaze narrowed on her. “Is this really about Ally, or is it about whatever had you upset earlier?”

  “Yes. I mean, it’s both. I—” His proximity rattled her concentration. Waves of body heat shimmered off him, spurring an answering warmth that wound through her blood. The subtle musk of man and sweat mingled with the remnants of his aftershave, scents she remembered from their lovemaking.

  With effort, she reined in her errant thoughts for more immediate concerns. “I need to talk to you. Something’s happened you should know about.”

  His taut, bare chest filled her line of sight, and she tried to ignore the play of muscle and sinew when he rolled his shoulders in fatigue and sighed. “Something to do with Ally?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then will it keep?”

  Pain sliced through her. Dismissed. Again.

  Ally rated his attention, but her concerns didn’t. She’d never been a priority. Not for Cal. Not for her mother. She battled the suffocating pressure squeezing her lungs. “Guess it’ll have to.”

  His eyes darkened, and he brushed a finger along her jaw. “Look, I want to talk. I want to understand why you’re so upset, but…I really need a shower and a few hours of shut-eye first.”

  Libby backed away from his touch. “Ally’s waiting for her breakfast.”

  Cal hesitated, studying her with his damnably perceptive gaze. She wished she could believe that the concern in his eyes meant he really cared, but she knew better than to harbor false hopes with Cal.

  Finally, with a tight nod, he disappeared into the bedroom.

  Libby sighed and steeled herself to face the four-year-old challenge he’d left her. She’d lost her temper too easily with Cal, and she prayed Ally hadn’t overheard. Cal’s daughter deserved better. She needed security, not fighting.

  Besides, letting Cal stir up her emotions was dangerous to her own peace of mind. Better to keep the old hurts locked away in the same box where she’d shoved her more tender feelings for him.

  “Ally, honey, I think I’m going to have a scrambled egg.” Her stomach revolted at the thought of food, but for Ally, she’d force down a little breakfast. “Will you eat an egg with m—”

  Libby came to an abrupt halt and scanned the empty kitchen. “Ally?”

  Panic fluttered to life in her chest as she checked under the table and behind the door. Nothing.

  Ally was gone.

  Chapter 7

  “Ally?” Libby called as she hurried into the living room. “Ally, where are you?”

  Jewel sat on a windowsill, licking her paw and grooming after her meal. But no Ally.

  Don’t lose control.

  Exhaling a bit of the breath she held, Libby checked the front and back doors and assured herself they were locked. At least Ally hadn’t left the house.

  She heard the shower start down the hall and considered getting Cal to help search for his daughter. An image of him, naked, with soap and water streaming down the hard planes and angles of his body, popped into her mind. Along with a more scintillating picture of an encounter in a shower she’d shared with Cal before…

  She groaned.

  Deep breaths. She filled her lungs slowly, clearing her mind.

  She couldn’t face Cal naked. No way.

  What would she say, anyway?

  Excuse me, Cal, but I, um, lost your daughter. Libby winced. Guilt and regret were not a palatable morning brew.

  Think like a frightened four-year-old. Libby gritted her teeth, and her stomach pitched. She’d vowed long ago to leave the past and all its troubles and uncertainties firmly behind her, yet Ally’s plight had resurrected all the skeletons she’d thought were securely locked in her closet.

  In her closet…

  A rustle from the front hall confirmed her suspicion. Relief rushed through her, left her muscles weak and shaky.

  “Ally.” She rapped lightly on the closet door. “Come out of there, sweetie. It’s okay.”

  “No!” the child wailed. “Stop yelling!”

  Libby’s chest tightened. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry about yelling in front of you. I’m not mad at you.”

  A muffled sniff was her only reply.

  Libby knelt at the closet door and pulled it open. She could see the little girl sitting in the back corner, just out of arm’s reach. “Everything’s okay now, Ally. You can come out.”

  Ally shook her head and scrunched farther away from Libby’s outstretched hands.

  She would have to go into the closet to get the child out. An icy ball of fear settled in Libby’s gut. As much as she identified with Cal’s daughter, her opinion of closets differed greatly. Ally ran to the tiny, dark space to feel safe. Libby took one look into the narrow, shadowed interior and wanted only to run. Far and fast. A cold sweat beaded on her lip.

  “Please, Ally, c—”

  Something soft brushed her arm, and Libby gasped.

  “Mrow.”

  Heart thundering, Libby scooped Jewel into her arms and hugged the warm body close, seeking solace in the cat’s rumbling purr.

  “Me.”

  Libby peeked into the closet. Ally had crawled forward, her gaze locked on Jewel.

  “You want to hold kitty?”

  Ally bobbed her head, her dark curls springing around her tear-streaked face.

  “You can. Come on out here. You can hold her on the sofa while I fix us some breakfast. Okay?”

  Biting her bottom lip and giving Libby a wary appraisal, Ally finally scooted out of the closet and wrapped her arms around the cat. Libby pulled both child and feline into her embrace.

  Thank you, Jewel!

  “Honey, you’re safe here. Okay? Even if I mess up and shout at your daddy. You don’t have to be scared.”

  Ally tipped her chin up and blinked damp eyes at Libby. “Did I make you mad at my daddy?”

  Libby’s breath hitched. “I’m not mad at your daddy, hon. Really.” Just hurt. Disappointed. “I know a lot of things are different for you right now, having your dad back and all. Things are different for all of us. We’re learning to deal with the changes. It will take all of us, even you, working together. Will you help your daddy and me make these changes work out?”

  Cal’s daughter seemed to consider her offer to make peace, then leaned into Libby’s chest, snuggling closer.

  Touched by the trust she’d somehow earned, Libby had to clear her throat before she could speak. “I’m making myself an egg for breakfast. Will you eat an egg and toast with me?”

  No multiple choice questions. One valid option to accept or decline. Keep it as basic and clear-cut as possible. Black-and-white. Yes or no.

  Ally nodded and sniffed. “Okay.”

  If only her relationship with Cal could be that simple.

  How had things gotten so complicated?

  Cal braced a hand on the shower wall and clenched his teeth, hearing the pain and resentment in Libby’s voice echo in his mind. When are you going to realize that when you balk, when you shirk your responsibility, people get hurt?

  Remorse needled him. He had hurt a lot of people in his life, let them down
—some failures bigger and more costly than others. His mom. Ally.

  And Libby. Libby’s pain ran deep. Because of him. Maybe marrying Libby had been a mistake. He didn’t want to cause her any more pain.

  Damn it, didn’t good intentions count for anything? He tried to do the honorable thing. Tried to take care of the people he loved.

  But it wasn’t enough. Had never been enough. Not when his mom had needed protection. Not when he’d defended the woman at the bar. Not when Ally needed a father in her life.

  Self-reproach lashed him with biting licks to his soul, hardening his resolve not to fail again. He’d prove to Libby he could be counted on. He’d prove it to himself.

  Cal tipped his face into the stinging, frigid spray and groaned.

  Despite the chilled water, his blood still ran hot. He couldn’t erase the image of Libby standing in the kitchen, rumpled and sleepy and sexy as hell.

  Her thin nightgown left nothing about her seductive curves a secret. The way she pursed her mouth in frustration, the sweet scent of her hair, had tempted him. Almost beyond endurance. He’d come so close to silencing her arguments with a reminder of what they could have together, what they had once shared.

  But the vulnerability he’d glimpsed in her eyes had stopped him. Cold. Vulnerability was not a trait he associated with Libby. Strength and resilience, yes. The scrappy fighter who’d overcome so much to work her way through college and law school, the passionate woman who took on the toughest challenges and won—that was the Libby he knew. What the hell had frightened her so badly? Whatever it was, he’d move heaven and earth to protect her. He’d never again make the mistakes he had with his mother.

  He rubbed the scar on his chin, remembering, and berating himself for his blindness, for his gullibility.

  I know how it feels to have you walk out. He’d heard a load of hurt in Libby’s voice as she’d chastised him for delegating his fussy daughter to her. So many regrets. He couldn’t undo the past, but maybe they could still have a future.

  If he could remind Libby of the times when nothing had come between them but a condom and passion-generated sweat, they might have a chance of making their marriage of convenience real. Making it last.