by Helen Brenna
The bathroom door opened behind him and the sheets rustled as Kate climbed into bed. With his luck, she was in some skimpy tank top and shorts and he’d get a good eyeful in the morning. The sheets and pillow rustled a little more as she seemed to be getting comfortable. Then the room was quiet.
This is great. He could look forward to several more days—and nights—of close quarters with Kate. You were too old for her ten years ago. You’re still too old.
Soon there were more sounds of movement. Quiet footsteps.
Do not come out here. Please, do not—
“Can I join you?” Her voice came from the sliding door.
He shifted, took in the sight of her shiny, clean face, dark, wet hair and thanked his lucky stars that the T-shirt she’d bought to sleep in was at least an entire size too big for her. Add a pair of baggy sweats to the picture and there should’ve been nothing to stimulate his imagination. That was, until he found himself wondering what lay beneath all that excess fabric. But that wasn’t her fault.
“Sure,” he said quietly, hoping to avoid any discussion about the kiss.
She sat in the other chair, a rusting, wobbly hunk of metal similar to the one he was sitting in, and looked out at the twinkling lights of the old city. The moon shining over the ocean. “It might be a crappy hotel, but the view is spectacular.”
He said nothing. Small talk was okay. No talk would be better. Especially once he caught sight of those tiny blue butterflies on her wrist and his mind immediately tracked to the ones on her side.
“Look,” she said, swallowing, “what happened earlier—”
“Nothing happened earlier.” Reaching behind him, he pushed the sliding door closed so their conversation wouldn’t wake Ally.
“That’s funny, because I thought we kissed.”
Silently he looked up into the sky.
“It’s my fault,” she whispered. “All those years ago. When you escorted me home from Greece. You were the first grown man… Well…I’ve always wondered…Let’s say I had quite a crush on you.”
Say what? He wasn’t the kind of guy women developed crushes over. “Like I said. Nothing happened.”
“That’s the way you want to play it?”
“You got it.”
Her sigh was soft, impatient. “Okay. Fine. It never happened.”
For a while she sat silently glancing out toward the ocean. He was beginning to think he was going to get away without any deep conversation when she opened her mouth again. “What was she like?” she asked. “Your wife.”
He did not want to go there. Not now. Not ever. And definitely not with Kate.
“Tell me about her. What did she look like? Was she similar to Ally? Or to Jenny?”
It had been more than ten years since Amy had died, and Riley could still conjure her image in his mind in less time than it took his heart to beat. “She looked like an angel,” he said before thinking better of it. “Clear blue eyes. Long blond hair, like Ally’s, only curly. Yes, she and Jenny were very similar.”
He felt his expression soften at the memory of his wife. “Amy was the sweetest woman I’ve ever known. Never raised her voice. Never swore. Always had a kind word on the tip of her tongue. That woman stuck her neck out anytime for anyone, but she was soft-spoken about it. I don’t think we ever once got into a fight.”
She’d been Riley’s complete opposite. As kind, generous and forgiving as he was stoic, judgmental and harsh.
“It must’ve been hard to lose her,” Kate whispered. “How did she die?”
He considered shutting her out as he had back in D.C., but there no longer seemed to be a point. “Amy had something called rheumatic heart disease. For the most part, she was pretty healthy. You never would’ve known she was sick.”
“Is that something she was born with?” Kate curled her legs underneath her, as if settling in.
“No. The doctors thought an untreated case of strep throat from when she was about twelve, only a little younger than Ally, damaged her heart valves. It had some impact on her life going forward, but it wasn’t crippling. She couldn’t play basketball or soccer, that kind of thing, but she didn’t care about any of that. For her, the worst thing was knowing she should never have children.”
“Why not?”
“Pregnancy puts a lot of strain on the heart. Too much for her condition.”
“Did you know she had this disease?”
“Not right away, no. Her family was pretty quiet about it. Then we started dating in high school. Got pretty serious, I thought, but every time I tried talking about a future together, she’d clam up. She knew I’d always wanted to be a soldier, so I figured she didn’t want to be a military wife.”
He sighed, the memories flooding his senses. “About the time I started getting ready to head off into the marines her dad pulled me aside and made her health situation crystal clear. If Amy got pregnant, most likely either she or the baby would die, probably both.” He swallowed and looked away.
“Scared you, didn’t he?” she whispered.
“I imagine that was his intention. He knew I cared for Amy, but he wanted to make sure we didn’t do anything stupid before I went off to boot camp.”
“So you never…”
“No. There was no way I was going to take the chance of getting her pregnant,” he said, lowering his head. “But by the time I came home on my third or fourth leave…well, let’s just say I wasn’t a virgin of much of anything anymore.”
“Did you tell her?”
He nodded. “We had long talks. About our future. Her health. I was fine with not having kids, but not having sex…wasn’t going to happen. I loved her. I asked her to marry me, got fixed and three months later we were husband and wife.”
“How did she get pregnant?”
“I went in for all the scheduled tests, thought I was shooting blanks, but apparently my vasectomy didn’t take.”
“But the doctors would’ve told you.”
“They told Amy.”
Her gaze turned quizzical. “And she didn’t tell you?”
“I’d just left on a mission when the lab called with the test results. I was gone three months. She had a lot of time to think and things changed for her. At least, that’s what she told me after we found out she was pregnant. She started believing the possibility of having a child was worth the risks of pregnancy.” He paused. “So she didn’t tell me we were risking her life every time we made love.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Sure it was. There were signs. I should’ve seen them. Besides, I made love to her. My baby. My fault.”
“That’s harsh.”
“Not as harsh as what she had to deal with afterward.” He shook his head. “The doctors recommended she terminate the pregnancy. It was the only way to guarantee she’d live.” He took a deep breath. “She refused.”
Riley completely understood, accepted and respected Amy’s death-sentence decision. Put in the same position, it was exactly what he would’ve done, but that didn’t make the consequences any easier to live with. “What is it with women and kids, anyway?” he said, shaking his head.
Warily she glanced at him. “The desire for family to nurture and love is pretty strong in a lot of women.”
“Even in you?”
She sat a little straighter. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t seem…generally speaking…like the mothering type.”
Her amber eyes flashed with moonlight and irritation. “So strong-willed, independent women can’t have families, is that it?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I could be as good a mom as any other woman.”
Obviously he’d hit a nerve. “I’m sure you could,” he said, hoping to drop the conversation.
“So then what did you mean by the comment?”
Oh, hell. He truly couldn’t picture this tough cookie as a mother, and there was no doubt that if he kept talking he’d keep dig
ging his hole deeper and deeper.
“I’m waiting,” she said, with no intention of letting him off the hook.
“I meant…only that you seem more balanced,” he said slowly. “As if you understand that there’s more to life. That’s all.”
“Is there more to life?” Kate studied him. “Maybe you hadn’t given much thought to kids. Maybe you didn’t want them at all. But when you first looked into Ally’s little face, how did you feel then?”
Like the scum of the earth. It was, after all, his fault Amy had gotten pregnant. His fault that Ally’s mother had died. He’d done his best to be a good husband, but he’d barely gotten the chance. And being a single father? Wasn’t in the cards.
“The first time I looked into Ally’s eyes,” he said, “I felt…humbled. Completely out of my league. A baby. What was I supposed to do with a baby? Kids were Amy’s forte.
“I remember sitting in the dark in the hospital room, right before she gave birth to Ally. The last thing she said to me was ‘I want to see her face. Just once.’ She never got the chance.” Riley’s throat tightened with emotion. “Ally was six weeks premature,” he whispered. “Amy died during the delivery.”
The helplessness he’d felt back then enveloped him. Every day, Amy worsened. Every day, she was one day closer to death. There was no weapon in the world that could fight off that particular threat, no armor heavy-duty enough to protect the sweetest woman he’d ever known. All of Riley’s military training had been worthless. In the end, there hadn’t been a thing he could do to save her. Proving to him once and for all that a soldier had no business falling in love and making families. No business raising children.
“All my training, all those years of holding lives in the balance, and I couldn’t do a thing to save my own wife.”
“You’re a soldier, Riley, not God.”
“Doesn’t matter. I knew right then and there…” He paused. “I had no right being a father.”
“So that’s why Jenny’s been raising Ally?”
Riley nodded. “Ally hadn’t been out of the hospital a week before she got sick and ended up back in intensive care.” He stared out at the lights of Ostia Antica. “Jenny was single, unmarried and distraught over Amy’s death. And she was about as attached to Ally as an aunt could be. Spent every day at the hospital.”
Leaving Ally in his sister-in-law’s care had seemed like the right answer for everyone concerned. Jenny would have a baby in her life, and Riley was able to go back into the military where he belonged without having to worry about messing up in caring for an infant.
“That had to be hard for Ally,” Kate said. “Growing up without her mother or father.”
Riley glanced at her. “She was better off with Jenny.”
“I’m sure that’s what you’ve had to tell yourself.”
His defenses rose. “Hold on there.”
“You grew up with your parents, right? And they’re both still alive?”
“Yeah,” he said cautiously.
“Well, I grew up without either of mine. Not having a dad was hard, but manageable. My mom dying when I was eight tore me apart. I can’t tell you what I would’ve given as a kid for a complete family.” Quiet for a moment, she glanced at her wrist.
“The tatt. It’s for your mom, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Maggie got one first. Shannon was next. Then me. We all have different colors and designs, but we all chose butterflies. Mom loved them. Moths, too. She even hatched a cecropia from a cocoon one year.”
“One of those big, brown prehistoric-looking things?”
“Yeah. It was amazing. One of my last memories of her is of an afternoon she spent with us three girls at the park picnicking and chasing butterflies with a net.” She paused, as if reliving the memory. “Maggie did the best she could for being only sixteen when my mother died, but barely a day went by that I didn’t wish for Mom back in my life. For a full and complete family. For all of us to be together again. I missed her so much.” She glanced at Riley. “I’m sure Jenny does her best, but no one can love Ally the way you can.”
“Ally knows I love her.”
“You sure about that?”
Riley said nothing. What could he say? With the way Ally had been acting toward him lately, Kate could be right.
“I’m sorry,” Kate whispered. “That you lost Amy.”
“Nothing for you to be sorry about. Wasn’t your fault. Anyway, life goes on.”
“Seems like it didn’t for you,” she whispered. “You might’ve carried on with your military career, but you lost your connection with your daughter.”
“I’m a soldier. It’s my life. My choice.” He sighed, thinking again of those retirement papers. If he signed them, what would he do with himself? He didn’t know how to be anything but what he was. “I had no business being married in the first place. No business having a child. Things worked out, in the end, the way they needed to be.”
“How can you say that? You have a daughter. You shouldn’t turn your back on her.”
He’d never turned his back on anyone in his life. He’d simply accepted his limitations where Ally was concerned. “Jenny’s been the best thing for Ally.” And with that, he’d better get his ass off to bed before he did something really, really stupid. Like kiss Kate again or worse. He pushed back his chair, suddenly exhausted. Now he could sleep.
“About that kiss—”
“What kiss?” He stood and walked toward the sliding door.
Riley had been with plenty of women since Amy had died, but not one of them had been the kind looking for a relationship. Fly-by-night, no ties let alone commitments had been all he’d been interested in. Kate had made it crystal clear tonight that she wasn’t that kind of woman. Not by half. She’d expect nothing less than everything—a home, family, the whole shebang—from a man, and she’d deserve it, too. A big fat nothing was all Riley had to offer.
“You want a family, Kate. But I’m not a family man. Been there. Done that. Will never do it again.”
CHAPTER NINE
Wednesday, 4:30 a.m.
“KATE, WAKE UP.”
The voice, soft but commanding, seemed a great distance away.
“Kate, we have to go.”
“No,” she whispered, snuggling deeper into the pillow. “Must sleep.”
“Must steal the statues,” the deep voice said. “Then sleep.”
Riley.
She sat up, blinked and cleared the sleepy fog from her brain. Since she’d never been a morning person, it was not an easy thing to do. The room was illuminated with moonlight. She glanced at the clock. “You said we were leaving in the morning.”
“It is morning.”
“Maybe in boot camp.”
Riley was dressed completely in black, and she could barely make out his shape as he moved to the other bed.
“Time to move, Ally,” he whispered.
She moaned.
“Let’s go.”
“I’m tired,” she murmured. “Come back and get me when you’re done.”
“Don’t have the time for that. We need to hit the road as soon as I’ve got the statues. Come on, Al. This is for Jenny, remember?”
At that Ally opened her eyes, sat up and dropped her feet onto the floor. In two minutes flat they were all heading out to the car. Riley threw their packs into the trunk and drove without headlights toward the church. He pulled off on a side street facing the rear of the church, parked and immediately shut off the engine.
Kate glanced into the backseat at the same time as Riley. Ally looked as if she’d fallen asleep again.
“I’m going in alone,” he whispered, clearly trying not to awaken his daughter. “I want you to stay out here with Ally.”
“But—”
“No buts, Kate.” He held her gaze. “Any number of things could go wrong in there, and you’ve done what I’ve needed you to do inside the church. You’ve identified the statues. The most helpful place for
you right now is keeping an eye on Ally.”
She knew he was right, but it still didn’t sit well.
“Kate, I don’t have time to argue.”
“Then don’t,” she whispered. “Go. And be careful.”
He’d opened his car door when a thought occurred to her. “Riley? Maybe I should have a gun.”
“No.” He gave a short and brisk shake of his head. “I don’t want you pointing a weapon at anyone, because I don’t want anyone else pointing one at you or Ally. This will take me fifteen minutes. Tops. If you hear police sirens, you drive away. Immediately. And you don’t look back. Understand?”
Like that was going to happen.
“Kate.”
“All right, fine,” she said, pretending to go along with him.
He held her gaze for a long, still moment as if he knew what was going through her mind but also knew there was no point in continuing to argue. With a final glance back at Ally, he left the car, disappearing into the shadows along the street. The first few minutes ticked by slowly. Other than one car passing by two blocks ahead on the main thoroughfare, nothing moved.
Bored and fidgety, Kate flipped down the mirror, smoothed her hair and pulled it into a ponytail. Out of nowhere, her conversation with Riley on the hotel balcony started eating at her. His wife’s death had thrown him for more of a loop than he was willing to admit, probably even to himself.
The sweetest woman he’d ever known.
So why had he kissed Kate? Why had that moment last night as they were passing each other at the bathroom door turned hot and bothered in the blink of an eye?
Nothing had happened. Right.
She studied her reflection in the mirror and tried to imagine what Riley saw when he looked at her. She was pretty, she supposed, but not beautiful. Not a blue-eyed blonde with curly hair. She wasn’t half as pretty as Jenny, or most likely Amy. And she certainly was not angelic. More like a dark-haired devil. A mouthy, mulish, outspoken shrew.
No. That’s not who she was. She was intelligent, strong willed and independent. She didn’t have it in her to be anything or anyone else. And if that meant there was no man who could love her as she was, so be it. She refused to lose herself for any man. She refused to settle. Ever.