A Marine for His Mom

by Christy Jeffries

  He tossed the spoon in the sink, grabbed a clean one, then dipped it into the bowl and took another taste. She could sit here all day and watch him do that, but the dusky rays peering through the front shop window reminded her that the rest of the world would be waking up soon.

  “So, Bo...” he started, leading her back on track.

  She sighed. “Bo was what some people would call a big fish in a little pond.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, he grew up here in Sugar Falls, star football player and the apple of his overindulging mother’s eye. He’d been handed everything his entire life and told that he was the best and should expect big things. He even had me convinced he was greater than life—for a short time, at least. But in college, he couldn’t live up to the perceived hype. He never even started in a game, and there certainly wasn’t any interest from the NFL, as he’d expected.”

  “That must have been a blow to his ego.”

  “It was. He would tell his mom and his friends back home that the coaches had it in for him or that the next game would be his big breakthrough. But honestly, he really wasn’t all that great. I mean, he wasn’t horrible—he’d made the team as a walk-on player, but I was on the football field every Saturday and had a good understanding about the game, and he didn’t have what it took to start for a top-ranked university.

  “When we were still at college, he knew he didn’t have to play the big man about campus with me. But the minute he moved back to Sugar Falls, with a pregnant wife in tow, he started putting on the show again. He was back to his small pond, and he no longer needed me to keep him from getting lost in the big sea that was college. He started drinking a lot and spending more time with people who didn’t know he wasn’t the big deal he thought he was.”

  “Did he cheat on you?”

  Maxine was so absorbed in mixing her dough that she didn’t mind the personal nature of the question. Of course, she was in the safe haven of her kitchen, and it was hard not to be herself in here. “Probably.” She shrugged. “But by that point, I honestly didn’t care enough to know one way or the other. I’d had Hunter, and he was the true love of my life. In fact, we barely saw Bo unless Cessy forced him to clean up his act and think about his family. His mother likes to remember only what she wants. I get so frustrated when she tries to sell her son as some standout pillar of the community, especially since she was the one who always had to find him new places to work whenever his bosses would get sick of him not showing up or for drinking on the clock. In fact, she’d just used her last connection to get him a job at a used car dealership outside of Boise when he drove one of the cars off the lot after a three-martini lunch. He crashed into a guardrail, dying instantly. And now Cessy is rewriting history. But I guess if I were her, it would be easier to focus on what could have been. All of us mothers like to think the best about our kids.”

  Maxine finished the first batch of dough and started another. She no longer had to work on the weekends, but Fridays were their biggest baking days and she needed to get everything prepped for her staff.

  “So Bo got a big head and couldn’t deal with not being who he thought he should be on or off the football field?”

  “In a nutshell.”

  “Is that why you have a problem with Hunter playing sports?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. Maybe one of them.” She looked up from her prep area, afraid of the disapproval she’d see in his eyes. Instead he gave her a look of understanding.

  “I can see where that comes from.” Cooper settled in more comfortably against the counter. “In the sporting world, it’s a thin line between friendly competition and inflated egos.”

  “Exactly!” For once, someone finally got it.

  “So you were left alone and needed to find a way to earn some income.” He steered her back to the cookie business, and she wondered how he’d gotten her to reveal so much. He must be a good cop.

  “Yes. I was down to my last twenty dollars and was going to a mommy-and-me play group at the community center. I was supposed to bring a dessert and didn’t have much in the fridge—just a couple of eggs and some heavy whipping cream that I’d accidently grabbed instead of milk when I’d been at the store with a crying toddler who had the flu and had kept me up all night. I didn’t want to waste the cream or spend any more money, and I remembered seeing a documentary about the history of butter. So I looked online to learn how to churn the cream. I made the cookies and everyone went crazy for them. A couple of moms asked me to make them for different parties and they paid me. Within a few months, I was hauling dozens of them—and a wild toddler—down to the farmers market in Boise.

  “A year later, Kylie had just gotten her CPA license and helped me start a business model. I was approved for a loan, probably with the help of some of Cessy’s contacts down at the bank, and rented out half of this space. The upstairs apartment was perfect because it allowed me to work down here while Hunter napped. A couple of years ago, I bought the building and remodeled it and the apartment. When we got busier, I hired more help. And now I’m finally able to sit back and let loose on the reins. Although...” She shoved the second bowl to the side and started on the third. “I still like to make the dough every morning by myself. It’s kind of a private ritual that reminds me of how far I’ve come.”

  “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a remarkable job with your company and with Hunter. He really is a neat kid, Maxine.”

  And since they were finally to a point where they could exchange kind words, she let her appreciation flow. “Thank you for saying that. And thank you for helping Mia. I know that’s why you came over this morning, and here I am droning on and on about my life story.”

  “Actually, I liked hearing it, even if I think it’s just the tip of the iceberg. And like I told you last night, I hate seeing anyone victimized. So this is how I think we should handle Mia’s situation...”

  There he went. Back to his man-in-charge position even though he acted as if he wanted her opinion. She lifted a skeptical eyebrow, ready to shoot down his idea as soon as it was out of his mouth. But she bit her tongue while she waited for him to continue.

  “Since you obviously know Mia better, I think you should tell her that I’ve made a few calls and it looks like the whole parole thing isn’t going to go through. You know, kind of ease her mind. Then, after the hearing, hopefully my buddy will have more information for me about how Nick got the pictures. Once she gets the official word that his parole was denied, I’ll talk to her about what they found and give her some tips and pointers for being on the lookout for suspicious people, although she seems to think everyone is suspicious.”

  Boy, he sure hit the nail on the head with that observation.

  “In the meantime, I’ll start poking around and see if I can figure out who’s been hanging around town and spying on her.”

  That seemed like a pretty solid plan and she was glad she’d kept quiet long enough to hear him out. “I know you don’t want my thanks, but it means a lot to me that you’re helping out with this, Cooper.”

  “It’s giving me something to do while I figure out what I’m going to be when I grow up.” He smiled, revealing those amazing dimples again. “Besides, I do have an ulterior motive.”

  Was this the part where he told her that he was interested in Mia? He’d denied it before, but Maxine wasn’t sure where she stood with him, and not knowing put her in a jealous mindset.

  “Which is...?”

  “Hunter and I have been playing a bit of catch after school, and he’s not too bad. Little League already did their tryouts, but one of the teams is a guy short. So they’ll let Hunter play if you’ll agree and sign off on the paperwork.”

  The wooden spoon she’d been using to mix the batter clattered out of her hand and onto the floor. But instead of looking down at the mess, she lifted her head
in surprise. She certainly hadn’t been expecting that to be his motive.

  “But you agreed with me about the sports,” she said. “About the thin line and the egos and all of that.”

  “I didn’t agree.” He held up his hand. “I just said that I understood where you were coming from. But Max, Hunter loves baseball. And he really wants to play and fit in with the other kids.”

  Ugh. He had her there because as much as she hated it, her poor son had slowly become an outcast.

  “Plus, he’s a kid,” Cooper added, driving his point home. “You still have control over how he sees the world and how he acts both on and off the field. Why not teach him the responsible way to play and let him enjoy it?”

  She braced her hands on the counter and met his pleading stare, locking steady gazes for several beats.

  “Can I think about it?” She knew she was stalling, but her heart and her mind were telling her two different things.

  “The league needs the forms by this afternoon so he can be on the roster for tomorrow’s opening game.”

  “Where are the forms?”

  “Out in the Jeep. I’ll go get them.”

  He was being more than presumptuous, but when he hurried out the door, any objections she wanted to voice died on her lips as she watched him from behind.

  Gunny Heartthrob certainly had a nice butt in the track pants that were designed to move fluidly over an athlete’s muscles. He was back in less than a minute and handed her the paperwork.

  “Let me look them over,” she said, feeling herself cave in. “If, and that’s a big if, I decide to sign them, who do I give them to today?”

  “Take them over to Alex Russell at the sporting goods store. He’s the league chairperson. And he can hook Hunter up with the team uniform and some cleats. I already got him a glove.”

  “I know Alex. He’s pretty big on following the rules and cutoff dates.” She couldn’t look at the marine without thinking of his backside in those pants so she stared down, trying to read the fine print that set the registration deadline for two weeks ago. “How’d you get him to agree to let Hunter play?”

  “Did I mention they were down a player?”

  “Yes, but couldn’t they pull an extra kid off another team to even things out?”

  “Did I mention they were down an assistant coach?”

  Her eyes shot up from the paper. “You volunteered?”

  “Volunteered. Was coerced. Depends on who you ask. But it’s not like I have a full schedule.”

  “So you’re sticking around for a while?” She bit her lip, calculating that the youth baseball season lasted until almost summer. That was still three months away.

  “I don’t have anywhere else to go. My physical therapy at Shadowview will take several more weeks.”

  “What about the police chief job here in town?” She held her breath, not sure what she wanted his answer to be.

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to make any permanent decisions yet. I’m not used to small towns, and I haven’t evaluated all of my options. I need to concentrate on getting my knee better first.”

  Before she could respond, Hunter’s voice sounded from upstairs. “Yeah, Gram, Mom’s right here.” Her son was still in his pajamas, the cordless phone in his hand when he reached the bottom step. “No, you’re not bothering us. She’s just in the kitchen with Cooper. Hey, Coop, are you staying for breakfast?”

  Oh, no. Maxine lunged for the phone, but the implication was already there. No telling what Cessy thought.

  Still, that didn’t solve her bigger dilemma. Cooper may not have spent the night, but he was certainly staying for the next few months.

  Chapter Eight

  The pain in Cooper’s knee pulsed all the way up his thigh and hip and was spreading into his back as the physical therapist at the Shadowview Naval Hospital maneuvered his leg. He’d rather deal with the pain, though, than have his thoughts cloud over, dulled from the drugs. He still didn’t remember what he’d said to Maxine when he’d last taken his prescription, but he wasn’t going to risk it again. It had taken a while, but they were finally in a good place.

  Hell, after the way he’d heard Cessy whoop it up on the other end of the phone receiver this morning, the whole town was going to assume that he and Maxine were in much more than a good place. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about that, although he’d hightailed it out of the cookie shop so that he wouldn’t have to hear her denials.

  “Are you taking any pain medications?” The shorter Asian man, who’d told Cooper to call him Jeffrey and looked as if he could bench-press a compact car, asked as he pushed Cooper’s knee almost into his chest.

  “No,” Cooper grunted out, not willing to swipe at the sweat dripping off his forehead.

  “Not even a little something to take the edge off, Gunny? It doesn’t make you less of a man or a marine. You just had two major surgeries rebuilding pretty much your entire leg. I promise you, when our session is done, you’re going to want something to ease the agony.”

  “Great. I’ll be looking forward to it.” His voice sounded labored even to his own ears, but he wasn’t being sarcastic. He really was looking forward to getting off his butt and running again. And if having this guy twist him up into a pretzel would speed things along, then bring on the pain.

  Being in the therapy wing brought back the memory of his recent hospital stay. The first surgeon at the naval base he’d been airlifted to said he was lucky the blast from the bomb hadn’t taken out his whole leg. Instead, he’d just shattered his kneecap, severely damaging his tendons and meniscus, when he landed on it following the impact that had knocked him off his feet. But he didn’t feel so lucky. They may have been able to replace his knee with an artificial one, but no military doctors could replace everything he lost. Not his dog. Not his squadron. Not his Corps.

  Not his life.

  Well, not his life as he’d once known it. Plenty of soldiers had lost a lot more than their stupid kneecaps, so his injury was nothing in the scheme of things.

  Cooper squeezed his eyes shut as he moved to a stationary bike, trying to tell himself the pain was of the physical variety and had nothing to do with the feelings he’d forbidden himself to think about.

  But listening to Maxine open up this morning had caused some sort of sympathetic crack in his own dam and, for the first time, he needed to take inventory of his emotions.

  Man, he hated dealing with any pain, physical or otherwise. He reverted to his standard operating procedure and switched gears from thinking with his heart to thinking with his mind. And his mind was telling him that he needed a job and a game plan. Maybe he was no longer fit for the military, but he could still be a cop somewhere. Sure, the government would most likely give him some medical benefits and a little disability money, but then what?

  If he was honest with himself, this Sugar Falls chief of police position would actually be a pretty good gig for him. He was more than qualified and Lord knew the town needed someone like him with honesty and integrity to lead them on this new venture. He’d been researching the idea and found out he’d have to do some training at a supplemental academy to learn the ins and outs of Idaho state law. But to have a department of his very own? To have a hand in selecting his own employees and forming the entire force from the ground up? That was a cop’s dream.

  Sure, the little town wasn’t what he was used to and it was a far cry from the poor, overcrowded neighborhood where he’d grown up. But he’d never fit in there, either.

  After Cooper finished ten minutes of pedaling on the bike, Jeffrey flipped the emotional switch back on when he said, “So I was reading your file before you came in. Man, it must be a hard thing for a man to lose his career and his dog all at the same time.”

  “Yeah, well he wasn’t really my dog.” Maybe if Cooper denied i
t out loud, he could deny it in his heart and it would help ease the pain.

  “Uh-huh.” Jeffrey motioned for him to follow to one of the blue cushioned tables. “From what I read, that dog followed you all around the base. Ran PT with you, ate with you, slept with you. Everything a man’s best friend should do.”

  Cooper still said nothing. He had no idea what a best friend should do. He’d purposely avoided making friends. Sure, there were men he liked, men he trusted, men he’d depended on. But that was where his personal connections ended.

  “The report said your dog saved your life.” The therapist continued, not taking Cooper’s silence as a hint that he didn’t want to talk about it. “That suicide bomber was headed straight for you when your dog attacked him and detonated the bomb.”

  He’d done his best to forget that fateful run and all that had followed.

  He’d been airlifted to the nearest military hospital. They’d stabilized him before transport to Okinawa, but his knee was shot. And as the memories resurfaced yet again, Cooper could still smell the singe of flesh in the air.

  “Yeah, well, they don’t call it a war zone for nothing.” Cooper didn’t know what to say. Before his hospital release, the counselors from the PTSD unit came by to see him, but he’d refused their services and their patronizing handouts.

  “So what’s your plan?” The body-builder-turned-wannabe-shrink wrapped his knee in hot towels. “Is Idaho home for you now?”

  That was the thing. Cooper didn’t know where home was. Yet. But he was starting to get an idea of where he wanted it to be.

  “I’m staying with some...uh...friends up in Sugar Falls.” Well, one friend, singular, but after this morning, when Maxine had finally let down her guard, Cooper was hoping to make it plural. Hell, who was he kidding? He wanted to be way more than just friends with the sexy cookie queen.

  “Ah, man, I love that town. We try and do a kayaking trip up there every year, and my girlfriend is crazy for this bakery up there. Have you been to the Sugar Falls Cookie Company?”