The Bachelor's Unexpected Family

by Lisa Carter

  Kristina nodded. “I’m sure Jade can successfully pass the class with extra tutoring.”

  “If it were only the one class.” Mrs. Savage’s mouth thinned. “Her grades for tenth grade so far are abysmal, too.”

  Jade knotted her fingers in her lap. His heart lurched. He’d been here. If it hadn’t been for Hap in his life...

  Mrs. Savage moved behind her desk. Sitting down, she sifted through a folder. “Jade’s standardized scores are actually very high. She’s simply not performing to her potential.”

  He sank into the chair nearest Jade. He reached for her hand. She resisted at first but then unknotted her fingers. “It’s hard to concentrate on doing your best in school when you don’t know where your next meal is coming from. Believe me, I know.”

  Over Jade’s head, he saw Kristina’s blue eyes cloud.

  He threaded Jade’s hand in his. “That is no longer the case for Jade, I promise you. And I personally guarantee to put in the time to make sure she’s up to speed with her classes.”

  Kristina stroked Jade’s hair. “I’ll do everything I can to help her, too.”

  Mrs. Savage’s eyebrow rose into a question mark. “You’re suggesting Jade juggle her already demanding tenth-grade curriculum on top of trying to complete what she didn’t master last year? That’s a lot for anyone to handle.”

  He met the principal’s gaze. “Jade won’t be handling this alone. She’s got me. We won’t let you down, Mrs. Savage, if you’ll give us this one chance.”

  “We? Us?” A smile relaxed Mrs. Savage’s stern features. “You believe in her that much?”

  His grip tightened on Jade. “I do.”

  Mrs. Savage scrutinized Jade. “Are you willing to put in the extra effort, Miss Collier? This isn’t going to allow you much time for anything else. And there won’t be any margin for error. One bad grade...”

  Jade’s head bobbed so hard her magenta feather fluttered. “I’m not afraid of hard work, Mrs. Savage. Please give me another chance. I won’t disappoint you. Or my uncle, either.”

  He jutted his jaw. “I assure you, Mrs. Savage, Jade will be writing a note of apology to you and the guidance counselor. And apologizing to both of you in person tomorrow.”

  Jade stiffened.

  “I will not allow disrespectful behavior.” He never broke eye contact with Mrs. Savage. “My girl is better than that. Colliers are better than that.”

  Mrs. Savage pursed her lips. “I believe you, Mr. Collier.” She pushed away from the desk and rose. “Jade has a test in World History next week.”

  He let go of Jade’s hand and stood, too.

  Mrs. Savage came around the desk. “I also expect to see great improvement in her biology lab.” She stuck out her hand.

  He grasped the woman’s hand. “We won’t let you down.”

  “Fine.” Mrs. Savage became brisk. “I think we should call it an early day for Jade. She can hit the ground running tomorrow.”

  But a small, pleased expression lifted the principal’s face. And he suddenly wondered whether she’d intended this satisfactory resolution from the start. To test his commitment as a guardian. To prove something to Jade herself.

  “Well played, Mrs. Savage,” he murmured.

  Mrs. Savage kept her gaze lowered as she shuffled a pile of folders on the edge of her desk. But her lips curved. “Why don’t you retrieve your books from your locker, Miss Collier, and then go home with your uncle?”

  Jade rose. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And Jade?”

  She paused, midstep, on her way out the door.

  “I hope you won’t give me a reason to regret this decision.”

  “No, ma’am. I promise I won’t.”

  After thanking the principal, he and Kristina went into the hall to wait for Jade.

  Kristina bit her lip. “I hope you don’t think I was interfering, Canyon. But when Jade called so upset, I rushed over here without stopping to think.”

  He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I’m glad you were here.”

  She gestured toward the office. “I’m not sure if I helped or not. The situation seemed to be escalating.”

  He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I was escalating. You were the voice of calm. I’m sorry for getting so defensive.”

  She patted his jacket sleeve. “You have nothing to apologize for. I think you’ve passed the second hurdle in Parenthood 101.” She smiled. “A parent has to be their child’s advocate. And you stood your ground on Jade’s behalf.”

  “I wasn’t going to let them railroad her. Holding her back would devastate Jade.”

  “And you did the right thing in refusing to allow Jade to continue with unacceptable behavior.” Kristina’s eyes welled. “Discipline with a whole lot of love.”

  His pulse jackknifed. Her approval meant so much.

  She punched his bicep lightly. “We’ll make a parent out of you yet.”

  “Not too bad for a sky jockey, huh?”

  She blushed. “Now that we know each other better, I’d never call you that again.”

  Canyon jammed his hands into his pockets. “Better, but not nearly as well as I’d like.”

  Her cornflower eyes lifted. Their gazes locked. They shared a long look, fraught with awareness and tenderness. A heart-stopping moment.

  Then she took a ragged breath and looked away. “I’m pretty good at math. Feel free to send her over anytime.”

  He gave Kristina a mock salute to ease the tension. “Roger that. Thank you, Kristina.”

  She turned to go.

  “And Kristina?”

  She stopped. “Yes?”

  “Thanks for being our friend.”

  A wistful look crossed her features. “Right back at you.”

  “Shall we try again?”

  Kristina gulped. “W-what do you mean?”

  “Lesson three. Tomorrow. Same time, same airstrip?”

  Her face shadowed. “I—I...” She wheeled toward the exit. “I have to check my schedule. I’ll call or leave you a message.”

  Not what he’d been hoping to hear. For a moment, when they gazed at each other just now, he’d dared to hope that—

  He ran his hand over his face. That’s what came from hoping and believing. He was an idiot.

  Disappointment flooded him as he watched Kristina’s Subaru pull out of a visitor space while he waited for Jade. Ten minutes later, she joined him with a bag full of textbooks.

  Jade scuffed the toe of her combat boot on the sidewalk. “I apologized in person to the guidance counselor. She gave me this.”

  He skimmed through the computer printout of assignments. “Good.” He held Jade’s door open for her.

  She scooted inside the Jeep. Going around, he’d inserted the key into the ignition when—

  “Did you mean what you said to Mrs. Savage?”

  His hand dropped.

  Jade stared out the windshield, not making eye contact. “About believing in me?”

  “You can be anything you want to be, Jade. And I’d be proud to be a part of making it happen.”

  Her eyes glistened, but she kept her gaze fastened on the row of cars. “No one’s ever believed in me before.”

  “It only takes one person to make the difference. For me, that person was Hap Wallace.” Canyon’s throat constricted. “If it hadn’t been for him living next door to my grandmother and taking an interest in a sullen, throwaway kid like me, I shudder to think where I’d be now. Most likely dead or—”

  “In jail like Beech.”

  Canyon’s mouth twisted. “I tried to be that person for your dad, Jade. I want you to know that. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I failed him. But after what happened, Hap enco
uraged me to join the Coast Guard. All I’d ever wanted to do was fly planes.”

  She looked at him then. “You earned your pilot license while still in high school working for Hap?”

  He nodded. “The first of several licenses. The Coast Guard offered an escape from the family. Hap died the year before Grandma Eileen. No one was more surprised than me when he left me his airfield. I finished my tour and came home. But by then Grandma was already gone, too.”

  “So, in a way, you’re repaying him. Paying it forward with me.”

  Canyon clenched the wheel. “It’s not a matter of paying it forward. You’re family, Jade.”

  Her eyes watered. “I haven’t ever been anybody’s girl until now.”

  Canyon reckoned she hadn’t. “I love you, Jade.”

  With no small sense of amazement, he realized it was true. Mr. Emotional High Wall’s heart had been breached. And by this mixed-up teenage niece of his. He saw much of himself in her.

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. Before he knew what hit him, she flung herself across the seat. Raising his hands off the wheel, he wasn’t sure what to do as she sobbed into his leather jacket.

  “I—I love you, too.” She draped her arms around his neck. “Nobody’s ever told me they loved me.”

  Another sad fact. Still unsure what to do with his hands, he wrapped his arms around Jade and hugged her back.

  “I’m always going to be in your corner, Jade. You and me are in this for the long haul. Pilot and copilot.”

  She inched back to peer into his face. “Flyboy and Goth Girl?”

  “Not quite the call signs I had in mind, but that’ll work, I guess.” He swiped his hand across his cheek and sniffed. “Allergies must be bad this time of year.”

  Settling into her seat, she tilted her head. “Ex-Coastie crop dusters aren’t allowed to cry, huh?”

  He cranked the ignition. “This ex-Coastie aerial application specialist wants lunch. How about hitting Tammy and Johnny’s before we hit the books?”

  Jade groaned. “Why do I get the feeling you’ve enrolled me in the Collier version of boot camp?”

  He headed for the highway. “Hoo-ah, Seaman Recruit Collier.” He fist-pumped the air.

  “Ugh...” The back of her head fell onto the headrest, but she raised her arm, too.

  Although not as high or as enthusiastically as his.

  “Hoo-ah,” she grunted.

  Canyon grinned. “There’s that fighting Collier spirit.”

  She gave him a sidelong look. “Maybe you should thank Kristina for coming to my rescue. Take her out to lunch tomorrow.”

  His insides squeezed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because we’re neighbors. Because Gray works for me. Because—”

  “’Cause you’re a big chicken.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t go getting any foolish notions in your magenta-colored head. Kristina and I aren’t going to happen, not the way you’re hoping. Good fences make good neighbors.”

  She rolled her eyes. “There’s no fence between her property and yours.”

  “There’s fences that you can’t begin to comprehend, Jade.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “The biggest fence of all is the one Kristina has erected herself. She’s a widow.” He rapped the side of his thumb against the wheel. “Women like her don’t just get over that kind of loss.”

  “So help her get over it.” Jade threw out her hands. “You like her, I know you do. You get funny-looking when she walks in a room. Where’s your fighting Collier spirit?”

  “Funny-looking?” he growled. “And for your information, Miss Know It All, some things can’t be changed no matter how you wish they could.”

  “And some things are worth fighting for, Uncle.”

  “Stubborn you got in spades.”

  “I think you need to go for it with Kristina. What’ve you got to lose?”

  He could think of several things—his pride, his mind and, most of all, his heart. But for now, he’d settle for getting Jade off his case. He didn’t like being rushed or pushed—another Collier family trait.

  “I’ll think about what you said.”

  “Better think fast.” She cocked her head. “The good ones don’t stay unclaimed long.”

  Chapter Nine

  A few weekends later, nearing dusk, Kristina pulled into a parking space alongside the Kiptohanock square.

  Unsure what to expect, she’d nevertheless volunteered to help with the pancake supper. She waved to Gray as he and the youth group unfolded tables and chairs on the green.

  Standing on the gazebo steps like a carved figurehead on the prow of a ship, Margaret Davenport supervised the teens, in particular, and everyone else in general. Including Seth Duer, fastening a string of lights around the gazebo railing.

  As Kristina approached, he paused long enough to roll his eyes.

  Ignoring them, Margaret hastened down the steps and sailed across the square to harangue the Coast Guard auxiliary retirees. They’d made the mistake of loitering a second too long outside the fellowship hall.

  Removing a handkerchief from his jeans, Seth wiped his brow. “I’m getting too old to deal with the likes of Margaret Upshur Davenport.”

  Slipping her keys into her coat pocket, Kristina realized the two must be about the same age. “Margaret is certainly enthusiastic.”

  “No need to sugarcoat it.” He lifted his ball cap and resettled it on his graying head. “Margaret’s just plain bossy.”

  Kristina smiled. “She runs this village with an efficiency corporations would envy.”

  “She runs this village like it’s her own personal kingdom.” He crimped the hat brim with his hand. “Still, she’s got the town’s best interests at heart, I guess.”

  “What doesn’t kill us will cure us?”

  He laughed. “Something like that.” His mustache drooped. “We’ve each got battles to fight and wars to overcome.”

  Kristina’s eyes cut to the sixtysomething woman marshaling the retirees into carrying bags of ice out of the church kitchen. “What kind of wars do you mean?”

  Seth leaned against the railing, taking a breather. “I wage war against depression. For some, it’s addictions and anger. Or grief.”

  Kristina swallowed.

  His gaze slid in Margaret’s direction. “For others, letting go of the past. How’s your war going, Kristina?”

  Shading her eyes with her hand, she contemplated the harbor and the docked watercraft. With the setting of the sun, the breeze had picked up. She was glad she’d brought her coat. “Some days are better than others.”

  “I hear that.”

  She shrugged. “It’s tricky getting the balance just right.”

  “I live that, darlin’.” He chuckled. “The struggle is real. Daily.”

  She tucked her hand inside the warmth of her coat to finger Pax’s dog tags. “It’s hard to let go without losing any of the good stuff. Stuff you don’t ever want to forget and yet at the same time...”

  “Taking hold of something new.”

  Kristina played with the cold, rounded edges of the metal. “Exactly.”

  Seth Duer spoke truth. Time to take another small step forward?

  He and Caroline had started GriefShare at the church about a year ago. Her sister-in-law had been quietly urging Kristina to attend since she moved to Kiptohanock.

  Kristina took a deep breath. “What night does GriefShare meet, Mr. Duer?”

  “Tuesdays. And it’s Seth. Come when you can, darlin’.”

  “Seth Duer!” Margaret bellowed across the square.

  He ducked as if dodging an incoming mo
rtar.

  “I don’t see any lights blazing yet!” Hands on her ample hips, she glowered. “I want to see lights blazing!”

  Seth grunted. “I’d like to set her lights—” But he zagged right as Margaret careened across the square. “Gotta go.”

  Kristina bit back a laugh.

  He tipped his cap. “No rest for the weary.” He disappeared behind the gazebo.

  Margaret advanced. And following his wise example, Kristina zipped left. Maybe the firefighters needed her help cooking pancakes.

  She scooted—okay, she ran—for the open bay of the white-painted brick fire station on the other end of the green.

  And almost collided with Canyon, his arms loaded with a stack of paper plates. The clean, soapy smell of him teased her nostrils. She flushed, wondering if he’d witnessed her inelegant flight across the square.

  His eyes crinkled. Lines fanned out from his swimming pool eyes. His well-muscled chest convulsed in the effort not to laugh. Apparently he had.

  Crossing her arms, she tapped her sneaker on the concrete. “Go ahead. Laugh. You know you want to, flyboy.”

  His lips twitched. “Retreat the better part of valor, huh?”

  She sniffed. “Live to fight another day.”

  “Is that what you call taking to your heels?”

  She raised her fist. “We fight for freedom.”

  “I can’t wait to hear you express that sentiment to Queen Margaret.” He smirked. “I’m sure Jade could give you a good deal on blue face paint.”

  Kristina laughed. “Your niece brings much-needed color to this town.”

  “She brings something, all right.”

  Kristina wagged her finger. “You don’t fool me, Canyon Collier.” She took the plates from him. “You’re so proud of her you can’t stand it.”

  “Yeah, especially after she volunteered me to work this fund-raiser. My former—emphasis on former—best friend Sawyer egged her on.”

  After the incident at the school, Kristina had only managed to hold out four hours before leaving a message saying she’d meet Canyon at the airfield the next day for another flying lesson.

  It had been an amazing few weeks with Canyon Collier in her life. February had rolled into March. She found herself excited about the start of each new day. Because of her flying lesson—the lesson, not the instructor.