by Gina Wilkins
Torn between offering reassurance and telling the kid the hard truth, he said merely, “I’ll tell them you want them to be careful.”
Jacob nodded, apparently settling for what he could get. “So, how long are you staying here?”
“Until Sunday. I’ll be here for the party Saturday, but after that I have to get back home.”
“Where’s home?”
“East Tennessee.” Funny how quickly it had come to be home to him, Kyle mused.
“You got family there?”
“I have friends.”
“So you’re not, like, married or anything?”
“No.”
“Oh. So maybe you and Molly…?”
Kyle raised an eyebrow in the young, would-be matchmaker’s direction. “That’s not likely. I like my life there, and she’s happy here.”
Not to mention all the more significant differences between them, he thought. But the kid didn’t need to hear about that.
Still young enough to be satisfied with relatively simple answers when it came to male-female relationships, Jacob nodded. “I don’t think Molly would like living anywhere else. She and her family are pretty tight.”
“I know.” And because he knew, he wondered why hearing it confirmed by someone else made his gut tighten. It wasn’t as if he’d have asked Molly to go back with him even without that obstacle, he reminded himself, thinking of all the other differences he had just mentally listed.
“Besides,” Jacob added around the last mouthful of cookie, “I guess I—I mean, the guys and me—wouldn’t really want you to take her away, anyway.”
“Even if she is a homework tyrant?” Kyle teased, forcing a smile.
Jacob shrugged and scuffed a sneaker toe against the patio bricks. “At least she cares about us,” he muttered.
“Yeah,” Kyle said, letting out a slow breath. “She cares very much.”
Jacob set his empty glass on a table and jumped to his feet. “Speaking of Molly, I’d better go. I’m supposed to have an essay written before she comes in to tutor later, and I’m only half-finished.”
“Better get with it, then.”
“Okay. See you, Kyle.”
“See you, Jacob.”
Kyle found himself oddly drained after the boy left. Funny how a relatively brief conversation with a gawky kid was more wearying—at least mentally—than a couple of hours of hard manual labor.
Kyle was sitting in the den, reading one of Jared’s ranching magazines, when Molly entered the room later that evening. They’d had dinner earlier, and then she had gone back to the dormitory to work with Emilio. That had been more than an hour ago.
Kyle glanced up when she came in. “Hi.”
“Hi. Sorry I took so long. The boys had a lot of extra schoolwork tonight.”
Kyle shrugged. “I can entertain myself. I figured you were busy.”
He watched as she crossed the room to sit in a chair near his. “How’s the cane working out for you?”
“Much better than the crutches. Joe said I shouldn’t even need the cane in another couple of weeks if I’m faithful about the ankle exercises.”
“You should make sure you do them, then.”
“Trust me, I will. I can’t wait to be back to full speed.” He nodded without looking at her. She bit her lip, wondering if he was thinking about how he would never fully recover from his own much more serious injuries.
As relatively minor as her own injury was, it had been both painful and frustrating to be incapacitated for even a short time. She couldn’t imagine how much worse it had been for Kyle.
“I hear you talked to Jacob this afternoon,” she said, deciding to change the subject.
“He told you?”
“He mentioned it.”
“Did he, uh, say what we talked about?” Something about the way he asked made her won der just what she had missed. “No. He just said you gave him a glass of lemonade. He was very cool and casual about it—you know, as if it were no big deal. I’m sure he was trying to make the other boys jealous.”
Kyle looked startled. “What would they be jealous about?”
She smiled a little in response to his cluelessness. “You’re older, you were a marine, you left here to have adventures like the ones they read about in books. Or at least, that’s the way they think of you.”
“Yeah, well, they’ve got the wrong impression.”
“They’re troubled boys in search of male role models,” she reminded him. “Dad and Shane and Memo all represent different qualities to them, but you’re a little more exotic, in their eyes, than the settled, married men who live here on the ranch.”
“They’d do better to look to your father and brother,” he muttered. “I don’t even know what I’m going to do from this point. I’m sure as hell in no position to serve as a role model for anyone.”
“Apparently, you did just fine with Jacob. He seemed a bit more relaxed than usual this evening.”
“He told me what’s been bothering him this week. He knows his father was here,” Kyle said bluntly. “He’s been worrying himself sick about it. I told you someone should have talked to him.”
Molly shook her head regretfully. “I had no idea. How did he find out?”
“He saw him through the dorm window. He asked me to warn the family to be careful. He seems to be worried that his father will hurt someone here.”
“He wouldn’t dare.”
“It’s still a good idea to be on guard. Especially for
Lucy and Annie’s sake.”
Molly could almost feel the blood drain from her face. It had never even occurred to her that Hayes could be so angry about having his son taken away from him that he would be tempted to turn the tables on Jacob’s foster family. “I’ll talk to Shane.”
“Do that.”
Pushing her uneasiness to the back of her mind by assuring herself that Hayes had more sense than to risk anything that reckless, she glanced toward the kitchen. “Can I get you anything? A cup of herbal tea, maybe?”
“No, I’m fine, thanks. It isn’t necessary for you to play the hostess. If I want tea, you’ve shown me where to find everything I need.”
She relaxed into her chair again—at least, as much as possible with Kyle sitting so close by. “Um, Kyle…?”
“I talked to Mack today,” he said suddenly, the change of topic startling her for a moment. “I called to check in and let him know what time my flight will arrive on Sunday. He agreed to pick me up at the airport.”
“So you’ve made your reservations?”
“Yeah. I got a pretty good rate by accepting a fairly long layover. I’ll take a couple of books to make the time pass more quickly.”
She nodded, making a massive effort to keep her expression nothing more than politely interested. “How are Mack and Jewel?”
A little frown creased his forehead. “Mack said he thinks Jewel’s coming down with a cold. But she said she’s fine, and for me not to worry about her.”
He would, though, Molly mused. Kyle felt responsible for the couple, as if he were trying to care for them the way their own son would have done. He was obviously anxious to get back home—and Tennessee was home to him now, she thought with a sigh. She wondered if he had realized yet, himself, just how deeply he’d already put down roots there.
“They both sent their best to you, by the way,” he added. “Jewel said to remind you of the advice she gave you.”
Molly smiled slightly, remembering their conversation about not letting other people run her life for her. “I’m working on it.”
“I don’t suppose you want to expand on that?”
“Not right now, no.”
He nodded. “Fair enough.”
The phone rang, and Molly reached for the cordless extension close to her chair. It was her aunt Michelle, calling to talk about last-minute party details and to ask about Molly’s ankle.
Assuring her aunt that she was fine—and yes, she knew she should have a
sked someone to accompany her to Tennessee—Molly managed to get through the well-intentioned lecture meekly enough. She changed the subject by asking about her cousin Carly’s new boyfriend. Richard Prentiss was divorced and several years older than twenty-year-old Carly, details that had given Michelle and Tony a few qualms about the relationship.
Before that conversation was over, she heard a beep that signified another incoming call. Michelle concluded her call with a promise to check in again the next day. Molly clicked over to the other caller—who turned out to be her aunt Layla, with much the same reasons for calling.
Molly listened dutifully to another lecture about how dangerous it was for a young woman to travel alone, assured her most worry-prone aunt that her ankle was healing nicely, then soothed Layla’s worries about the million last-minute details concerning the upcoming party. She was finally able to disconnect with yet another promise to be careful and take better care of herself.
She glanced at Kyle, who was still reading the magazine, though she had noticed he hadn’t turned a page in a while. “My aunts,” she said.
“So I gathered.”
“Everyone’s getting a little nervous about the party. You know, the last-minute details.”
“I thought you said it was going to be a casual affair. An informal outdoor cookout, at which everyone can just mingle and wish your parents a happy anniversary.”
He was quoting things she had said to him, which proved he’d listened to at least some of her babbling. “Yes, that’s exactly what we’re planning, but you know how it is when you’re hosting a party. You still want to make sure everything comes off okay.”
“I wouldn’t know, actually. I’ve never hosted a party. But I’ll take your word for it.”
“At least the weather is supposed to cooperate. Every forecaster I’ve listened to predicts sunny skies and temperatures in the high seventies.”
“What would you have done if it rained?”
She groaned. “Don’t even say that. However, we did have a contingency plan. The church Layla attends has a big fellowship hall that she reserved on a just-in-case basis until last week, when we were confident enough to let it go. I’m just so glad there’s almost no chance of rain, so we can have the party here.”
“So, how’s it all going down Saturday? Last I heard, you and Kelly were still working out the details.”
“I think we’ve got it all mapped out now. Shane’s picking up Mom and Dad at the airport Saturday morning at eleven-fifteen. I hope their flight isn’t delayed or anything. He’ll drive them back here, trying to arrive somewhere between twelve-thirty and one o’clock. In the meantime, everyone is supposed to gather here Saturday morning to get lunch preparations underway. Someone will stand lookout while everyone else waits in the backyard, grouped around the new kitchen. We’ll all yell ’surprise’ when Shane leads Mom and Dad around.”
Kyle looked amused. “I’ve participated in military operations that weren’t this well planned.”
“Yeah, well, there are about a zillion things that can go wrong, so we’ll just have to hope for the best.”
“So, how many people are you expecting?” Hearing the slight nervousness in his voice, she gave him a sympathetic smile before breaking the total to him. “Counting children, we’ve invited just over sixty people.”
She watched the color drain from his face. “I, uh, knew there would be a lot, but I didn’t realize…”
“Well, think about it. Dad has five siblings, all of whom are married and have kids of their own. Some of those kids are married, others involved in relationships, and everyone’s invited, of course. We contacted a dozen former foster boys—not counting the four here now. Counting you, nine are able to attend, and four of them are married with children. My mom’s brother and his wife are flying in from Alaska for the event. A few longtime friends couldn’t be left out, so the guest list grew pretty long, even though we tried to pare it down a little.”
He still looked dazed. “You mean there are people you didn’t invite?”
“Oh, yes.” She sighed regretfully. “We couldn’t invite many of the D’Alessandro family, except for the two brothers who married Walkers, of course, and their parents, Vinnie and Carla. We’ve been friends with the whole family for years, but there are just so many of them….”
“Unlike your own family,” Kyle muttered ironically.
She couldn’t help laughing a little. “You sound as though this isn’t a usual type of thing for us. I know you were here for some of the big barbecues in the past.”
“I remember a couple of big parties, but I didn’t recall them being this huge.”
“The family has grown since you left.”
“No kidding.”
Her sympathy returned. She knew Kyle wasn’t accustomed to big social gatherings. He hadn’t met many of the guests who would be in attendance, and the ones he had met, he hadn’t seen in years. Both he and they had changed a great deal since then. “It will be fun. You’ll see.”
“If you say so.”
Suddenly tired, Molly pushed a hand through her hair. “As much as I’m looking forward to it, it will be nice when it’s all behind us.”
“I’ve heard you’ve been working on the party for a long time.”
She smiled weakly. “Seems like years, though it’s only been a few months.”
“I guess you’ll be relieved when your guests have gone home and your life is back to normal.”
Reading between his words, she knew he included himself in the guests who would soon be leaving. “I’m not in any hurry for you to be gone,” she answered candidly—the only way she knew how to reply.
He gave her a brooding look. “You’ll get over that soon enough.”
“I’m not so sure that I will,” she murmured. “And what about you, Kyle? Will you get over it quickly? Or is there anything for you to get over?”
He released a long breath. “I’ll carry a few new scars back with me,” he admitted after a pause. “But I’m getting used to that.”
A little annoyed by his response, she shook her head. Kyle was so accustomed to thinking of himself as a battered survivor that he couldn’t seem to visualize himself actually coming out a winner. When someone became that accustomed to disappointment, didn’t it become too easy to simply settle for whatever he could get?
Chapter Thirteen
Abruptly deciding that she didn’t want to be the temporary diversion Kyle settled for, Molly squared her shoulders with a sudden surge of pride. She had pretty much done all the pursuing in this awkward affair of theirs, promising not to ask for more than he was willing to give, keeping her own desires to herself, treading carefully to avoid stepping on his ego. But enough was enough.
“It’s too bad,” she said, “that I never learned to protect myself as carefully as you do. Even though I knew what to expect when we became involved, I don’t think it will be quite so easy for me to say goodbye as it will be for you.”
He looked surprised by her sudden curtness. “I didn’t say it would be easy.”
“No,” she agreed coolly. “You just implied that your familiarity with goodbyes makes it less difficult for you to accept.”
His face hardened. “Just hope you never have to learn the way I did.”
“I know you’ve been through some very hard times,” she replied, choosing her words carefully. “But that doesn’t mean you should just give up on ever having better times. Despite what you may think, I’m not talking about us, but about your attitude in general. You’ve become a defeatist.”
He took immediate offense at the word. “I am not a defeatist.”
“You always expect the worst. You sit up there alone in your mountain cabin, brooding about the past, afraid to say what you really want for your future in case that doesn’t work out, either—”
“You’re one to talk, aren’t you?” he snarled. “Sitting here safe in Mommy and Daddy’s house, letting everyone make your decisions for you so there�
�s no chance you’ll make any big mistakes on your own.”
She gasped. “That is so unfair. I told you I’m going to find a place of my own as soon as…”
“As soon as you find a job close enough so you’ll still be within minutes of daddy’s protection.”
She stood furiously, wincing when the movement jarred her injured ankle. But because she refused to show him how much her carelessness had hurt, she ignored the pain and kept her chin high. “I’m going to my room. If you need anything during the night—get it yourself. That’s the way you prefer to do things, anyway.”
She thumped rapidly out of the room without giving him a chance to respond. Only when she reached her own room and slammed the door behind her did she admit to herself how disappointed she was that he hadn’t even tried to detain her.
Tommy looked as young and healthy as he had during their last leave together. They stood in the living room of Kyle’s mountain cabin, both dressed in flannel shirts and jeans and hiking boots, ready for an outdoor adventure.
“Nice place,” Tommy commented, looking around the sparsely decorated room. He nodded toward the big-screen TV. “How’s the reception?”
“Not bad,” Kyle replied, aware that something was strange about this conversation, but unable to decide exactly what was wrong. “I catch most of the games.”
“I guess that’s good—in lieu of a real life.”
“Don’t start with me, McDooley.” Kyle crossed the room and sank into his favorite chair—only then realizing that he hadn’t limped at all. He lifted a hand to his face, fingertips tracing his smooth left jaw. Unscarred. Why had he thought it should feel different?
“You think I’m going to tiptoe around your sensitive feelings the way everyone else has been doing the past few months?” Tommy grunted. “Get real, Reeves.”
“Look, I’ve had a tough time, okay?” he snapped, though at the moment he couldn’t remember what had been so bad. “And I’m getting tired of everyone implying that I’ve been moping around feeling sorry for myself.”