A Mom for Callie

by Laura Bradford

  “A problem?” He stole a glance at his partner, confirming that he, too, was clueless as to the direction of this particular conversation.

  “Rumblings have been called to the department’s attention.”

  “Come to think of it, I could use some food myself.” Tom smacked his hand into Kyle’s arm. “Hot dogs sound good to you, Ky?”

  Shaking his head, he kept his attention focused solely on the lieutenant as reality overshadowed his friend’s futile attempt to lighten the mood. “Does this have something to do with the perp from the bank?”

  Doug raked a hand through his crop of salt-and-pepper hair, nodding as he did. “You were right. About all of it. The two of them were part of a gang. One that appears to have fairly long-reaching arms.”

  “How long?”

  “Long enough to keep you on your toes, Brennan.” The lieutenant walked over to the window that overlooked Cedar Creek’s town square and spun around, his gaze a mixture of anger and concern. “Word on the street has it that you ruined their fun. And now they’re wanting to repay the favor.”

  “Repay the favor?” Tom repeated.

  Doug ignored Tom’s question and focused, instead, on Kyle. “Home number still in your mother’s maiden name?”

  He shifted foot to foot, his stomach tightening as the implications of his boss’s words took root. “Yes, sir.”

  “You have a security system in your home?”

  “The best kind,” he answered as his hand instinctively fell on the handle of his gun.

  “But what about when you’re not there? Is there a security system wired to your doors and windows?”

  “No.”

  “We’re gonna change that.”

  “We’re?” Tom asked.

  “The department, Murphy.”

  “The department, sir?” Kyle echoed.

  “That’s right, Brennan. When we feel the safety of an officer’s family may be in jeopardy, we’ll take whatever precautions are necessary to correct the situation.”

  “You think Callie—” He stopped, his mouth unable to put words to the thought squeezing his heart.

  Doug’s hand shot up in the air, his palm faced toward them. “We’ve got no reason to believe they know where you live. But Cedar Creek is a small town. Most people know where our officers live. Whether that information can be coaxed out by a stranger remains to be seen.”

  “But why Kyle?” Tom asked.

  “Because Kyle was the one who arrested one of their own. The one who messed things up for them, so to speak.”

  “But what about Logan? He cuffed the other one.”

  The lieutenant waved Tom off. “But Kyle was the one caught in the camera lens with one hand on one of their buddies. And it was that perp who was working the camera…sending whatever message he was sending to his fellow thugs.”

  “Oh, man—” Tom turned to look at Kyle. “Your name tag was in that shot, wasn’t it?”

  Kyle simply nodded, his mind racing to corral the implications of what he was hearing. Should he send Callie and his mom on a vacation for a while? Should he pack up her dolls and clothes and send her to live with Lila?

  The last thought made his teeth clench, his hands fist in anger.

  “Look, we’ve got no reason to believe these guys know where you live or that you have a daughter. None whatsoever. I’m just saying to be aware when you’re at home. Keep the security system on when you’re not. And if you hear anything…anything at—”

  He knew the lieutenant was still talking, could see the man’s mouth moving, but it was all lost on Kyle, drowned out by the sound that had cut short his kiss with Betsy less than twelve hours earlier.

  At the time it had sounded like a stick snapping under the weight of a body, but when he’d jogged to the break in the hedge between the two properties, there’d been nothing.

  Had it truly been a squirrel or a raccoon as he’d justified to himself at the time? Or could it have been someone outside his home…waiting, watching? The thought made him shiver.

  “You holding something back, Brennan?” the lieutenant asked sharply.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What happened?”

  He looked from his boss to his partner and back again, still unsure whether what he’d heard was something pertinent or absolutely nothing at all. “Last night. I walked my neighbor home after a little backyard barbecue and while we were…while we were saying good-night, I heard a sound. Like someone was walking around my house. But when I looked, I saw nothing. Chalked it up to an animal.”

  “Maybe it was. And…maybe it wasn’t. Let’s hope it was the latter but be prepared for the former.” The lieutenant dropped back into his chair, planting his elbows on the top of his desk. “Now, get back to work…the both of you.”

  With barely more than a nod, Kyle followed Tom back into the hallway and out into the parking lot that housed the department’s fleet of patrol cars, the chief’s warnings replaying their way through his mind. As they reached their car, Tom broke the silence, his usual joke-a-second attitude surprisingly muted. “You okay, dude?”

  He shrugged then slid into the driver’s seat of the patrol car while his partner took the passenger seat. “At this point it’s all speculation—a bunch of ifs. Of course I’ll be vigilant for Callie’s sake. But I don’t even know if that sound I heard last night was an animal or what.”

  “You mean, the sound you heard while you were—” Tom’s voice changed, morphed into a near dead-on impression of Kyle’s “—saying good-night to your next-door neighbor?”

  He laughed, his partner’s mimic a much-needed break after a tense conversation with their lieutenant. “Betsy is my next-door neighbor and we did say good-night.”

  “I notice you didn’t mention she’s also hotter than hell.”

  Kyle started the car. “I didn’t mention the kiss, either.”

  “Whoa hoa hoa…a kiss?” Tom’s hand shot into the air in celebration only to come back down and punch Kyle in the shoulder. “Man, you move fast.”

  “Fast was the other night…after pizza with you and Ang.” He stole a sidelong glance in his partner’s direction as he steered the car out of its parking space and toward the main road that led through Cedar Creek. “Last night was much more slow. And hot. And—”

  “And I’m just hearing about this now?”

  “I didn’t think I should kiss and tell.”

  “Like she’d find out?” Tom asked, his voice echoing with stage-worthy indignation.

  Kyle stared at Tom. “I love Ang, I really do. But she’s not exactly adept at keeping secrets.” With anyone else, Kyle would worry that his words would offend. But with Tom, he knew he was safe.

  “Because keeping secrets would mean having the ability to keep one’s mouth closed.”

  Kyle laughed. “Something like that.”

  They rode in silence for a few blocks, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Tom spoke, his words jetting Kyle right back to Betsy’s back stoop. “Was it good?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t play coy with me, dude. Was it good?”

  A knowing smile tugged at his lips as he turned the car onto Gander Street on the western edge of town, his foot instinctively letting off on the gas pedal as they approached the row of empty warehouses that dotted the area. “It was incredible.”

  “When are you gonna see her again?”

  A warm feeling spread throughout his body as the answer succeeded in chasing away the dread ushered in by his lieutenant. “At three o’clock. We’re taking Callie to Paxton Park for a picnic.”

  “Sounds good. I like her…she’s a sweetheart.”

  Tom’s description rolled around in his thoughts as they pulled in and out of each and every empty lot, looking for any signs of criminal activity. A favorite spot for restless teenagers and the occasional small-time drug dealer, the derelict warehouses had become a bone of contention during many mayoral races over the past decade.

&
nbsp; “Do me a favor when you’re at the park today?”

  He glanced over at his partner. “Be on my toes? Trust me, I’m already there.”

  Tom shook his head. “I was thinkin’ more the other way.”

  “The other way?”

  “Look, I realize you’ve got to keep your eye open after what Grady said…I get that. But don’t let it ruin the picnic. Use that time to relax. With Betsy.”

  Tom was right. What the lieutenant said certainly bore consideration and extra vigilance but it didn’t have to consume him. Today was about him and Callie…and getting to know Betsy even more.

  Inhaling the memory of Betsy’s lips on his, Kyle smiled. “Roger that, partner.”

  “DADDY, CAN I KNOCK?”

  Kyle smiled down at his daughter, the excitement in the little girl’s eyes impossible to miss. “Absolutely.”

  Callie knocked, the sound surprisingly loud against the door. “Did you remember the Frisbee?”

  “I did. The wiffle ball and bat, too.” He gestured toward the door. “Give it another one, I don’t think she heard.”

  Callie knocked again, this time even louder. Still there was no response.

  “Why don’t you try the doorbell?” he suggested.

  The doorbell, too, went unanswered.

  Her eyebrows furrowed as Callie peered up at Kyle. “I thought you said she was coming to the park with us…that she was packing a picnic.”

  “I did. Because she said she was.” Stepping away from his daughter, Kyle peeked through a narrow window beside the door, the empty hallway providing no clues to the woman’s whereabouts. Had she fallen ill? Had something happened?

  The thought was no sooner through his mind when fear gripped his heart, squeezed it in time with the memory of his lieutenant’s words. Stepping to the left, Kyle pressed his face to the window, scanning the small yet tidy living room but to no avail.

  “Daddy, is everything okay?”

  Waving away his daughter’s question, Kyle stepped to the right, his gaze traveling around the front parlor and down a second hallway that led to—

  Betsy.

  Squinting, he stared at the woman in his sights, her petite body hunched over her laptop as she tapped away at her keyboard, completely oblivious to their presence at her door and their plans to spend the day together….

  Was it possible she simply hadn’t heard Callie’s knock?

  He tried again. Still, she didn’t move. Didn’t look up. Didn’t acknowledge his presence in any way, shape or form.

  Grabbing hold of his daughter’s hand, Kyle fairly dragged her down the stairs and over to his car, anger coursing through his body where anticipation had been just moments earlier.

  “Where are we going, Daddy?”

  “I told you. Paxton Park.” He knew his words were clipped, his tone angry, but he couldn’t help it. He was furious.

  “But what about Miss Anderson? I thought you said she—”

  He yanked the car door open and gestured Callie into the backseat, his reply bringing an end to her parade of questions. “I made a mistake, Callie. About the picnic…and about our neighbor.”

  Chapter Eight

  If there was any chance he simply hadn’t heard her, it disappeared the moment their eyes locked through the windshield of his car. Kyle Brennan was mad, of that there was no doubt.

  But she hadn’t intended to forget their date. She’d looked forward to it from the moment he’d asked her to join them at the park, had planned their picnic meal down to the color napkins she would bring. Yet it had all faded away as she sat at the keyboard with Marsha’s grueling deadline ringing in her ears.

  When she’d started, she’d been aware of the time, planning to write until one and then shutting down for the day. Her intentions had been good, however her execution had been awful. As the words poured from her fingertips she’d gotten caught up in the story that was beginning to unfold.

  Before she knew it, the natural light that streamed through the windows of the sunporch had all but faded, the necessity of lamplight failing to alert her to the mistake she’d made—a mistake that hit her between the eyes as she opened the refrigerator for a midnight snack and saw the makings of their forgotten picnic dinner.

  In an instant her ravenous hunger had dissipated only to be replaced by a wave of nausea that left her shaking. She’d considered apologizing right then and there but the midnight hour had convinced her otherwise. Instead, she’d set her alarm for an early-morning wake-up that would allow her to catch Kyle on his way to work. She just hadn’t counted on his refusal to hear her out, or to even acknowledge her presence, for that matter.

  Her shoulders drooped as she watched him back his car onto Picket Lane and speed away, her apology lodged in her throat so tightly it posed a viable choking hazard. She’d hurt him. That was obvious.

  What wasn’t quite so obvious was how to fix it short of rewinding the hands of—

  “That’s it,” she whispered as Kyle’s car disappeared from her line of vision once and for all. There was nothing she could do about yesterday. She, of all people, knew that. Yesterday was over, done. All she had was today and tomorrow.

  Glancing at her watch, she jogged across her front lawn and onto her front porch, a sense of hope propelling her through the door and straight to her laptop which stood open, waiting for another day’s work. Only this time she’d set an alarm for noon, a gentle nudge to get showered and dressed for what she hoped would be an apology Kyle Brennan would never forget.

  SHE WAS WAITING IN THE backyard when he pulled into the driveway, the sound of his parking brake making her pulse race. For the umpteenth time in the past thirty minutes, Betsy looked around, her gaze taking in the wineglasses for them and the princess cup for Callie.

  Everything had come together perfectly right down to the traditional red-and-white checked blanket she’d found on sale at a department store in town. She’d stopped writing long before the alarm had sounded, the promise of seeing Kyle and Callie motivating her to accomplish far more than she’d expected in far less time than she’d planned.

  Pushing off the blanket, she ran a nervous hand down the sides of the flowered skirt she’d chosen for their picnic, its tiny lilac flowers a perfect complement to the delicately laced lilac camisole she wore. Ordinarily she might have considered the outfit a bit too dressy for a backyard picnic, but not today. Today’s picnic was about so much more than just eating. It was about admitting when you were wrong and making amends to people who mattered. People like Kyle and Callie.

  For a moment she remained silent as she watched him walk up the driveway, his attention focused on his feet. There was something about Kyle Brennan that excited and calmed her all at the same time.

  Maybe it was the simple fact that his inner confidence and outward strength left her feeling as if nothing would ever go wrong under his watch. It was an aura he exuded in spades.

  Today, though, there was more. Like tension and sadness and even worry. Had she caused that? Had her carelessness brought him that much unhappiness?

  Exhaling the sudden urge to run the other way with her tail between her legs, she stepped forward, her sudden movement making him jump and reach for his hip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I—” And then she stopped, the fury in his eyes making her unsure of her words.

  For a long moment he studied her, his hand finally falling to his side. “What do you want? Run out of paper or something?”

  “Paper? No I…” Her voice trailed off as the meaning behind his statement became crystal clear. He didn’t need her to explain anything. He knew she’d missed their outing because she’d been writing.

  “Look, Betsy…or Elizabeth Lynn…or whoever you are today…I’m really not in the mood for playing games. Especially with someone who makes up rules to serve her own needs.” Kyle stepped around her and headed toward the backyard, his shoulders rigid, his pace quick. She turned in her place and followed his movement with her eyes, the col
dness of his words bringing a stab of pain to her chest.

  And then he saw it—the blanket, the glasses, the basket, the cutting board, the pan of still-warm brownies. Stopping in his tracks, he said nothing for what seemed like an eternity, her heart thudding inside her ears.

  “What’s this?” he asked, his voice husky.

  “It’s my apology for a yesterday I ruined. A yesterday that slipped between my fingers because of sheer carelessness on my part. I stuck my earbuds in, turned on my music and started writing. And I wrote, and I wrote and I wrote.” She caught her breath as he turned around, his gaze locked on hers as she continued, the words pouring from her lips of their own volition. “I lost track of time, Kyle. I know how lame that sounds. I know how lame it is to say it. But it’s the truth. I didn’t stop—for anything—until midnight. And when I realized what I’d done, I wanted to come over right then and there and beg you and Callie to forgive me.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because it was midnight and I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “You wouldn’t have. I was awake.”

  She swallowed over the lump that threatened to render her speechless. “I didn’t know that. Instead, I set my alarm for five this morning. So I could catch you before you left for work.”

  He looked away, a pinkish hue appearing in his cheeks.

  “But I hurt you. And Callie. I know that. And I can understand why you didn’t want to see or talk to me this morning.” Sensing a slight break in his rigidity, she took a step forward, the distance between them still too wide. “I realized, all over again, how badly I messed up. But if I’ve learned one thing in the past twelve months it’s that no matter how awful you may feel about yesterday, you can’t change it. It’s done. All you can do is make today better.”

  “The past twelve months?” he asked as he cocked his head and studied her, his expression softening as he took in her attire.

  Shaking her head, she took another step forward, her voice breaking. “Can we take a rain check on that question?”