The Road to Reunion
The Road to Reunion
GINA WILKINS
NEVER TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWERThat had always been Molly Walker's motto. So when Kyle Reeves refused to come to the Walker Ranch for a celebration, Molly set out to bring Kyle back one way or another….Bruised and battered, the last thing Kyle needed was a reminder from his past…especially from the redheaded beauty who landed on his doorstep. Kyle knew he wasn't the man Molly remembered from long ago, nor could he give her what she deserved–love, family and a Texas home.But when faced with a woman who wouldn't take no for an answer, would Kyle say yes to the passion and love he'd been searching for?
“C’mon, Kyle, there’s no need for you to go.”
Molly’s chatty, no-one-could-doubt-that-we’re-just-buddies attitude was beginning to get on his nerves. Sure, it was the safest strategy—but she was starting to carry it too far.
“I doubt your brother or your parents would like us spending this much time together in a motel room.”
“Don’t be silly. Daddy and Shane wouldn’t care. After all, you’re—”
If she called him “like family” one more time, he was liable to do something incredibly stupid. Like shut her up with his own mouth….
Dear Reader,
Well, if there were ever a month that screamed for a good love story—make that six!—February would be it. So here are our Valentine’s Day gifts to you from Silhouette Special Edition. Let’s start with The Road to Reunion by Gina Wilkins, next up in her FAMILY FOUND series. When the beautiful daughter of the couple who raised him tries to get a taciturn cowboy to come home for a family reunion, Kyle Reeves is determined to turn her down. But try getting Molly Walker to take no for an answer! In Marie Ferrarella’s Husbands and Other Strangers, a woman in a boating accident finds her head injury left her with no permanent effects—except for the fact that she can’t seem to recall her husband. In the next installment of our FAMILY BUSINESS continuity, The Boss and Miss Baxter by Wendy Warren, an unemployed single mother is offered a job—not to mention a place to live for her and her children—with the grumpy, if gorgeous, man who fired her!
“Who’s Your Daddy?” is a question that takes on new meaning when a young woman learns that a rock star is her biological father, that her mother is really in love with his brother—and that she herself can’t resist her new father’s protégé. Read all about it in It Runs in the Family by Patricia Kay, the second in her CALLIE’S CORNER CAFÉ miniseries. Vermont Valentine, the conclusion to Kristin Hardy’s HOLIDAY HEARTS miniseries, tells the story of the last single Trask brother, Jacob—he’s been alone for thirty-six years. But that’s about to change, courtesy of the beautiful scientist now doing research on his property. And in Teresa Hill’s A Little Bit Engaged, a woman who’s been a bride-to-be for five years yet never saw fit to actually set a wedding date finds true love where she least expects it—with a pastor.
So keep warm, stay romantic, and we’ll see you next month….
Gail Chasan
Senior Editor
The Road to Reunion
Gina Wilkins
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
GINA WILKINS
is a bestselling and award-winning author who has written more than seventy books for Harlequin and Silhouette. Ms. Wilkins has appeared on the Waldenbooks, B. Dalton and USA TODAY bestseller lists. She is a three-time recipient of the Maggie Award for Excellence, sponsored by Georgia Romance Writers, and has won several awards from the reviewers of Romantic Times BOOKclub.
It’s Jared and Cassie Walker’s twenty-fifth wedding anniversary and you are cordially invited to the biggest bash in Texas!
After decades of caring and support for their friends and family, we want to honor these two lovebirds. So, come one, come all to celebrate on the Walker Ranch, Saturday, October 15!
RSVP with Molly and Shane Walker
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Prologue
“Molly, give it up. Kyle isn’t coming.”
Molly Walker crossed her arms and glared at her half brother. “I want to try one more time to convince him.”
Shane swept his Stetson off his head and wiped his dripping forehead with a bandana he had pulled from the back pocket of his well-worn jeans. Even at the end of September, it was still blistering hot in central Texas, and he had been working all day on the ranch he owned with their father, Jared Walker. Molly had caught him just as he was putting away the last of his gear for the day. She knew he was eager to join his wife, Kelly, and their two young daughters for dinner, but he was patient, as always, with his younger sister.
“You’ve sent two representatives to talk to him since we located him in late July. He sent them both back to you with a very clear message that he wants to be left alone. I know taking hints isn’t one of your strong points, Molly, but even you can get that message.”
“I’m just not sure he understands exactly what I’m trying to do for Mom and Dad. Having all their former foster boys together for a surprise silver anniversary party would mean so much to them. I know there are a few who can’t make it, but we’ve got nearly everyone. Kyle’s presence would make the party almost perfect.”
“Not if he doesn’t want to be here.”
“Why wouldn’t he? I know he was wounded over seas, but all the reports are that he seems to be almost fully recovered now, so that shouldn’t be a problem. He was close to Mom and Dad, especially Mom. They were very fond of him. They went to his high school graduation. Mom sent cookies when he went to boot camp, for Pete’s sake. He was a member of our family.”
“No, honey. He just lived with us for a couple of years when he was a kid. Things change. Kyle changed. Maybe it was the war, or maybe just the passage of time, but he stopped calling, answering letters, making any attempt to stay in touch. Mom was disappointed, but she knew she had to let him go. Just as you have to do now.”
She felt her lower lip start to protrude, and she made a deliberate effort to draw it back in. She would be twenty-four in just over a month. It wasn’t particularly becoming for a twenty-four-year-old woman to pout. “I can’t believe Kyle never wants to see us again. I just want to ask him one more time.”
“So write him a letter.”
“I’m not sure a letter would work. But he admired you, Shane. Maybe if you—”
“I can’t go to East Tennessee to browbeat Kyle right now.” He spoke gently, but firmly, his tanned face set into implacable lines that made him look very much like their father. “Dad and Cassie are leaving Friday for that cruise, and they’ll be gone for three weeks. I’ve got more than I can handle here.”
She sighed and nodded reluctantly. Shane would be extremely busy with Jared and Cassie gone for that long. It had been hard enough to talk Jared into taking his first long vacation with his wife. Only the knowledge that Shane would be here to keep the ranch running had made him finally agree.
“Send Kyle a letter, Molly.” Shane squeezed her shoulder. “Tell him how much it would mean to you— and to Mom and Dad. But if he still chooses not to come, you’re going to have to accept his decision. Don’t let it ruin your pleasure in the party. You’ve already done so much. Dad and Cassie are going to be so surprised, and so pleased to see everyone you’ve found all together.”
Molly wished she could be content with what she had accomplished in the past few months. But she couldn’t get past the feeling that something was still unfinished. Something she was obviously going to have to handle personally—though she knew better than to express that sentiment to her overprotective and notoriously bossy older brother.
Chapter One
“Sixteen…ow…seventeen…damn it…eighteen…hell.”
The weights clattered against the concrete floor when Kyle Reeves dropped his legs and let the bar fall. He had increased the resistance today and the pain was too intense to go any further. The result was that he was now in a very bad mood—not that there was anything new about that. This particular bad mood had lasted eight months, three weeks and four days—give or take a couple of hours.
A clap of thunder rattled the windows, followed by another ominous rumbling that seemed to echo his disposition. Rain had started to fall, not very heavily yet, but steadily. It was supposed to storm this evening, and storms were always dramatic in the mountains. He rather enjoyed them.
Pushing himself off the weight bench, he limped across the stark, white-walled room and stepped into a short hallway with oak plank floors and unadorned walls, also painted white. His cabin in the Tennessee Smoky Mountains wasn’t large—two bedrooms, one of which served as his exercise room, one bath, a small living room and an eat-in kitchen. The furnishings were minimal, the decor Spartan, luxuries nonexistent.
The place needed some work—a few boards on the front porch had rotted, and cold air poured through numerous cracks around doors and windows—but the roof didn’t leak, and the view from the redwood deck attached to the back of the house was spectacular. And best of all, as far as Kyle was concerned, there were no neighbors within sight.
Reaching the kitchen, he picked up a bottle of prescription pain pills, glanced at it, then tossed it back onto the butcher-block countertop. He shook two ibuprofen into his palm instead, popped them into his mouth and washed them down with a few swallows of bottled water.
He pushed a hand through his sweaty brown hair, leaving it standing in spikes. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the shiny door of the refrigerator when he put away the water. In addition to his messy hair, he had a four-day beard growth, which didn’t quite conceal the scar that ran down his left jawline. His sweat-stained gray T-shirt was paired with black knit shorts that bagged on his too-thin frame. No socks, but he wore a good pair of athletic shoes because he needed the support. He looked like hell—but since there was no one around to see him, he didn’t really care.
As if in response to that thought, someone knocked on his front door.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was hardly expecting company, and he doubted that his only real friend in the area, Mack McDooley, would have ventured up the mountain in an approaching storm on this Thursday afternoon. He was even more surprised that he hadn’t heard a car engine, but he blamed that on the noise of the worsening weather.
The knocking came again. Sighing heavily, he limped into the living room and jerked open the door without bothering to see who was on the other side. “What?”
He’d have been hard-pressed to guess who looked more surprised at that moment. His visitor, in response to his curt greeting, or himself, at his first sight of the woman on his doorstep.
Even in the deepening darkness of the rainy afternoon, he could tell that she was stunning. Masses of red hair, dotted with moisture, tumbled past her shoulders to the middle of her back. Dark lashes surrounded large green eyes emphasized by smudgy eyeliner. Her perfect nose was decorated with a smattering of golden freckles, and her mouth was full and glossy. She was of average height, with a slender figure packaged in a snug green pullover and dark jeans that made her legs look a mile long.
He couldn’t imagine what a woman like this was doing on his doorstep. “Are you lost?”
She eyed him speculatively before responding, and he had the uncomfortable suspicion that she didn’t miss one detail of his grubby appearance. Not that he cared, of course. She would be on her way as soon as he gave her directions to wherever she was supposed to be.
But she shook her head, causing gold highlights to glimmer in her hair. “I’m not lost—at least, I don’t think I am. I mean…are you Kyle Reeves?”
Hearing his name spoken in a distinctly Texan accent drew his frown even deeper. “Look, I’ve tried to be polite with you people, but you’re carrying it too far. Tell Shane and Molly that it was nice of them to think of me, but I won’t be attending their reunion thing. Make it clear this time that I won’t be changing my mind—and I don’t want to have to repeat the message again.”
Though he’d spoken tersely, he could have been a lot less polite about it—and he was fully prepared to be, if she started getting pushy, regardless of her killer eyes and delectable mouth. It was only his lingering fondness for the Walker family and his reluctance to hurt little Molly’s feelings that kept his temper in check—though he couldn’t guarantee he could control it much longer.
Enough was enough.
Planting her hands on her hips, the woman cocked her head to study him more closely. Something about that gesture looked vaguely familiar to him, but before he could pin it down, she spoke again. “Do you mind if I come in for a few minutes? I didn’t expect it to be so chilly here, and to be honest, I’m sort of cold.”
Her three-quarter-sleeve shirt and jeans would probably have been plenty warm enough back in Dallas in early October, but on a rainy day at this altitude, a light jacket would have been appropriate. Still… “You don’t need to come in. Go back to Texas where it’s warm, and give Shane and Molly my regrets. It’s that simple.”
Lightning lit the purple sky behind her, flashing behind the distant mountains and making her damp hair seem to come alive for just a moment. And then the sky dimmed, leaving her in shadows again. “All I want is five minutes of your time. Surely you can spare that much, Mr. Reeves.”
If he were really as hard-hearted as he was trying to be, he wouldn’t be in the least affected by the slight tremor in her voice. He didn’t know whether it was caused by cold or nerves, but it got to him. He wavered a few moments more, then mentally cursed himself for being a fool and stepped out of the doorway.
“You’ve got five minutes. Say your piece, but you might as well know I won’t be changing my mind. At the end of your spiel, I’ll expect you to leave and make sure that no one else bothers me about this.”
“Thank you.”
He noticed her taking in every detail of his living room, which was neat, if a bit dusty, and equipped with only the most basic of furniture, other than his treasured big-screen TV. A big fireplace dominated one wall, but he hadn’t started any fires yet this season, so it was dark and empty behind the functional black screen.
The place probably looked stark and primitive to this hothouse flower. Good. Maybe she wouldn’t be tempted to stay beyond her allotted time.
Though he didn’t invite her to sit, she settled onto the battered, secondhand, brown leather couch, anyway. Much too conscious of her gaze on him, he made an effort to control his limp as he moved to the nearest of two brown-and-tan plaid recliners and sank into it.
“Let me save you a little time. You want to extend an invitation for me to attend a surprise anniversary party for Jared and Cassie Walker next week. All their former foster boys are invited. Shane and Molly are putting the whole thing together and little Molly will be very disappointed if I don’t make an appearance. Has that pretty well summed up what you were planning to say?”
She laid one arm across the back of the couch, looking as comfortable as if she were a regular visitor to his home. “You’ve stated it pretty well.”
“I’ve heard the pitch a couple of times before.”
“I know.”
“Molly and Shane are persistent, I’ll give them that. I’ve never been so aggressively ’invited’ to a party before.” “You were special to the family, and they’ve missed you. It would mean a great deal to them for you to be there.”
“The Walkers have had a whole string of foster boys at the ranch. They won’t miss one at their reunion.”
“Everyone will have a good time even if you don’t come,” she conceded. “But it will be even better if you’re there.”
“I’m sorry, that isn’t possible.”
She studied his face a moment, then sighed lightly. “Then you’re right. We should leave you alone.” Finally. He nodded curtly. “I appreciate it.”
“Is there a message you would like to send to the family—other than to leave you alone?”
He found himself looking at her mouth. If she was particularly chagrined that she hadn’t coaxed a commitment out of him, she wasn’t letting it show. Her luscious lips curved into a slight smile as she gazed at him through those thick, dark lashes. A jolt of awareness shot through him, reminding him of the first moment when he had seen her and had been body-slammed by unexpected attraction.
He mentally shook his head and tried to concentrate on something other than how much time had passed since he’d been with a woman. “A message? I guess you can tell them happy anniversary for me. And you can tell Molly I’m sorry she went to so much trouble on my behalf.”
One slender eyebrow arched in question. Her smile widened. “Why don’t you tell her yourself?”
“I don’t—” He eyed her expression. “Oh hell. Surely you’re not—”
“You never asked my name,” she reminded him. “Have I really changed so much?”
He felt himself sink more deeply into his chair. An uncharacteristic warmth flowed up his neck and onto his face. Kyle wasn’t often embarrassed—and he was even more rarely taken completely by surprise—but she had just accomplished both. “You’re Molly?”
She ran her fingers through her curtain of hair, never taking her gaze off him. “I believe you called me ’little Molly’ earlier. Did you think time had stopped since you left the ranch almost a dozen years ago, Kyle?”
“How old are you?”
She seemed more amused than offended by the ques tion. “I’ll be twenty-four in a few weeks.”
Twenty-four. He shook his head slowly in disbelief. Maybe he had thought time had stopped. On the rare occasion when he had pictured Molly, he’d remembered a freckle-faced carrottop with gaps in her teeth and dirt on her face. She had been a bundle of energy, chattering a mile a minute, tagging at her father’s heels whenever he would let her—which was often, since Jared had been able to deny little to his only daughter.
Having no experience with gregarious little girls, Kyle had been rather intimidated by her then. He willingly admitted that she terrified him now. Talk about trouble in a nicely wrapped package….
“You’re twenty-nine,” she murmured. “You were almost seventeen when you came to us. You stayed a couple of months after your eighteenth birthday to finish high school, and then you left for boot camp. I was twelve when you went away. I was heartbroken, you know. It always broke my heart when anyone left us.”
“I remember you cried your eyes out when the kid before me left not long after I got there. His name was Daniel, wasn’t it?”
“Daniel Castillo—though he uses the last name Andreas now.” Her smile turned radiant. “He’s back in the family now. He recently married my cousin B.J.”
“No kidding.” He tried to focus on the conversation rather than the way her smile pushed tiny dimples into the corner of her mouth. “I remember her. Her name was Brittany, but she wanted everyone to use her initials, instead.”
“Everyone pretty much does now—except her mother, who still insists on calling her Brittany.”
“So she married Daniel.”
Molly nodded. “It was a whirlwind courtship, and I think it’s fantastic. They’re perfect together—they always were, even when they were teenagers.”
Kyle suddenly scowled, wondering what the hell he was doing sitting here listening to family gossip from Molly Walker—no longer “little” Molly Walker. If they kept this up, he would find himself all duded up for a silver anniversary party he’d had no intention of attending.
He shifted in his chair, and pain shot through his left leg and up into his back. The feeling was so familiar, he was able to hide his reactions from Molly—or at least, he thought he had, though her sharp green eyes had suddenly narrowed speculatively.
“Your five minutes are over,” he reminded her, his bad mood returning with a vengeance.
Molly thought she had done a pretty credible job of hiding her shock at Kyle’s appearance. She couldn’t help comparing the man in front of her to the photograph that sat in a place of honor in her parents’ living room, along with photos of the other foster sons Jared and Cassie had nurtured during their marriage.
Kyle’s portrait had been taken at his high school graduation. Wearing a black cap and gown, a gold tassel dangling at one side of his tanned face, he had looked young and healthy. His thick brown hair had been freshly cut, and his amber-brown eyes gleamed with satisfaction. During her teen years, even as her memories of Kyle faded, Molly had found herself studying that photograph occasionally, wondering about Kyle, thinking that of all the nice-looking boys who had passed through her family home, his face had intrigued her the most.
Had she not known who he was when he had opened his door to her this afternoon, she might never have recognized him as the same person in the photograph. He was almost painfully thin, and he walked with a pronounced limp. The tan had been replaced by a rather scruffy pallor. His day-old beard did little to conceal the uneven scar that now marred his left cheek along the jawline. His hair was disheveled, and needed a good shampooing and styling.
For just a few moments he had seemed to relax a little with her, and she’d hoped that he was becoming more open to the possibility of attending the party. But then she had seen him flinch, as if in pain, and his expression had abruptly closed.
“I had hoped you would extend that five-minute deadline a bit once you figured out who I am,” she admitted with a wry smile.
He didn’t smile back at her. “I’m not trying to be rude, but you really should go before—”
A shatteringly loud clap of thunder drowned out his words, followed by a deluge of rain that hammered on the roof and rattled the windows.
“—before the storm gets worse,” Kyle finished with a sigh.
Molly stood and walked to the window, rather surprised by the violence of the downpour. “Wow. It’s a real gully-washer out there, isn’t it?”
“To say the least. This is what remains of the tropical storm that hit the coast of South Carolina a couple of days ago. Haven’t you been listening to the weather forecasts?”
She turned away from the window. “Actually, no. The radio is broken in my car, so I listened to CDs during the drive.”
Though she wouldn’t have thought it possible, his frown deepened. “You didn’t drive here from Dallas?”
“Well—yes, I did,” she admitted. “It’s about a sixteen-hour drive, so I left at noon yesterday, spent the night in Memphis, then started out again this morning.”
“Alone?”
She shrugged. “It was a pleasant drive. The weather’s been nice, at least until I reached Gatlinburg, and I don’t often have a chance to spend time by myself just to think and listen to my favorite music. And the scenery in this area is breathtaking.”
“I can’t believe your parents allowed you to make a drive like that by yourself.”
Now it was her turn to frown. “First, I’m almost twenty-four years old, and I no longer have to ask my parents’ permission to leave home for a few days. Second, I wouldn’t have asked them, anyway, because I’m planning a surprise party for them and I don’t want them to know I’m here. And finally, they left almost two weeks ago for a three-week Mediterranean cruise to celebrate their anniversary.”
“Your brother didn’t have a problem with you coming here?”
She cleared her throat, resisting an impulse to shuffle her feet like a kid caught in a fib. “I don’t have to answer to Shane, either—but he thinks I’m spending a few days shopping in Houston with a friend from college.”
“So he wouldn’t approve.”
“He didn’t want me to pester you about coming to the party after you’d already declined a couple of times. And, no, he probably wouldn’t like the idea of me driving so far by myself—but Shane tends to be overprotective.”
“He always was when it came to you—and he didn’t hold a candle to your father. I have a feeling Jared would pop a vein if he knew what you’ve done.”
Molly was getting seriously defensive now. She had been trying for the past few years to convince her family that she was no longer a little girl to be indulged and watched over, but a competent young woman who could make her own decisions. She certainly hadn’t expected to have that same battle with Kyle Reeves.
“I’ll worry about my family’s reactions,” she informed him a bit curtly. “Obviously, I thought it was worth the effort for the chance to talk to you about the party.”
“I’m sorry you wasted the trip. If you had accepted the answer I sent back by way of your representatives, you would have saved yourself a lot of trouble.”
“I don’t take no for an answer very easily.”
His mouth quirked in what might have been the merest hint of a smile, though there seemed to be little humor in it. “From what I remember, you never did.”
She waited through another rumble of thunder, which seemed to echo her annoyance that he still thought of her as the little girl he had known more than eleven years ago. “My parents were very fond of you, Kyle. Your senior picture still sits in the living room, and Mom mentions you every so often with such wistfulness in her voice. It would mean a lot to them if you would come to their party.”
“I’m really just not a party kind of guy.”
She didn’t doubt that, especially now that she had seen the isolated cabin where he lived without even a telephone to connect him to the outside world. “I can understand that you might not like large groups of people—even though this will be a casual, no-pressure party where everyone will be welcome and should be comfortable. I think you might even have a good time there, if you would let yourself. But if you can’t make it to the party, at least think about coming to visit Mom and Dad sometime, will you? It’s important to them to know that their boys turned out all right.”
An odd expression briefly crossed his face, as if it had startled him to be referred to as one of “their boys.” He masked it swiftly as he stood and crossed to the window to look out at the worsening storm. She thought he walked with extra care, perhaps trying to control his limp.
For several long minutes, neither of them spoke, so that the storm seemed even louder inside the quiet room. It was obvious that she hadn’t gotten through to Kyle at all; he had made it clear that he wanted to be left alone to brood about whatever had happened to him. She was beginning to feel guilty for having come at all, invading the privacy he seemed to value so greatly, ignoring the messages he had already sent.
She could almost hear her brother saying, “I told you so.” She was sure she would hear those words as soon as she returned to the ranch and told him what she had done. “Maybe I’d better be going. It doesn’t look as though the rain is going to let up anytime soon.”
“I’m afraid you can’t leave just yet.” He looked glum as he made the announcement in a resigned voice. “You don’t know how dangerous these roads can be in storms like this. Rain falling this hard and this heavily overfills the creeks that run next to the roads, causing them to wash over the pavement. The rushing water can sweep you right off the mountain if you don’t know what you’re doing—or even if you do, in some cases.”
Molly looked at the window again, which was being pounded by windswept rain so hard it looked as if it were falling horizontally. She couldn’t even see her car now. “Do you think it will last long?”
His silence was an answer in itself. She bit her lip and wondered how long she was going to be stuck here with a man who wished she were anywhere else.
Chapter Two
Resisting an impulse to curse, Kyle pushed away from the window. “I’ve been working out and I’m sweaty. I’ll take a shower and then we’ll decide what to do.”
He didn’t give Molly a chance to respond. Making an effort to control his limp, he crossed the room toward the hallway. Maybe he’d feel more in control of this situation once he had showered and taken a few minutes to recover from the surprise of finding little Molly Walker all grown up on his doorstep.
It was just his luck that she had arrived right in the middle of a storm. As much as he wished he could send her on her way, he couldn’t allow her to head out in this weather. The steep, winding roads around here were tricky enough, but the risk of flash flooding was very real under these circumstances. He wished she hadn’t come, but since she had, it looked as though he was going to have to play reluctant host for a few hours.
At least, he hoped that was all it would take until the roads were safe again. Unfortunately, it was late afternoon, and wet asphalt in the dark wouldn’t exactly be ideal traveling conditions, either.
Though he was well aware that he was procrastinating, he took his time showering, shaving and dressing in a clean gray T-shirt and comfortably faded jeans. He even ran a comb through his wet hair—not because it mattered particularly how he looked, he assured himself. But being caught off guard had put him at a disadvantage earlier, and he wanted to regain the upper hand in this situation as quickly as possible.
Finally reassured that he looked presentable, he headed back down the hallway. He was having little success controlling his limp now. He had probably overdone the workout that afternoon. Had Molly not been here, he might have pulled out his cane for the rest of the evening, just to give the leg a rest. Needless to say, her presence meant that wasn’t going to happen.
Molly wasn’t in the living room. Since he knew she wasn’t in the back of the cabin, that left only the kitchen. But the kitchen, too, was unoccupied and he felt his stomach tighten with nerves. If she had tried to leave, driving down the mountain in this storm…
The back door was ajar. Muttering a curse, he moved toward it, jerked it open and stepped outside. Protected from the downpour by the overhang that shaded half the deck, Molly stood with her arms crossed, watching the rain sweeping over the cloud-draped mountains. Dark, heavy clouds hid the afternoon sun, turning the landscape into a gray, impressionist scene that seemed to fascinate her.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said, though he hadn’t realized until then that she’d heard him step out beside her.
He was tempted to agree with her. But because he was all too aware that he wouldn’t have been talking about the scenery, he scowled and motioned toward the door. “Go back inside. You’re so cold your lips are blue.”
He wasn’t exaggerating much. He could see the goose bumps on her arms, and the tip of her nose was pinkened by the damp, chilly air.
She gave him a look that told him she didn’t like being given orders now anymore than she had when she was a spunky kid. “I’m fine.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Maybe she felt as though she had made her point. Molly was only a few steps behind him when he walked into the kitchen. Kyle set the teakettle on a burner and pulled two mugs out of a cabinet. “I don’t drink caffeine, but I have several blends of herbal tea,” he said, waving a hand toward the assortment of boxes arranged for easy access. “Pick what you like.”
He tossed an orange spice tea bag into a mug for himself, then stood aside so Molly could make her own selection. She debated for what he considered to be an absurdly long time over the six selections available to her before finally choosing cinnamon apple. By that time, the kettle was whistling.
Kyle carried his steaming mug into the living room, leaving Molly to follow if she wanted. She did—and her next comment indicated she had been watching him more closely than he liked.
“What happened to you, Kyle? How were you injured?”
“A close encounter with a bomb in the Middle East,” he answered shortly. “I don’t like to talk about it.”
“How long has it been?”
“Eight months.” And three weeks, and four days. And counting.
“I’m sorry,” she offered quietly.
He shrugged with practiced nonchalance. “Don’t be. I was luckier than the three guys who were with me and didn’t make it back.”
It had taken him a while to come to that conclusion, and there were still days when he wondered if his friends had been the lucky ones. He had learned very soon after the attack to hide those feelings, which always drew far too much attention from the military shrinks.
“Is that why you don’t want to come to the party? Because you were hurt?”
“No.”
She seemed completely undaunted by his curt tone.
“Because if you’re worried that anyone there will think less of you or pity you or anything like that, that would just be silly.”
Kyle set his mug down with a thump and glowered at his uninvited guest. “Either you like living dangerously, or you’re totally oblivious when it comes to taking hints.”
Molly sighed and spread her free hand, cradling her tea mug in the other. “It’s the latter, I’m afraid. Shane always says it takes a two-by-four upside the head for me to recognize a hint. He jokes, of course, but he’s not exaggerating by much.”
“Then let me put it in short, simple words you’ll be sure to understand—I don’t want to talk about this.”
Molly blinked at him for a moment, then absolutely floored him by smiling broadly. “You sounded just like Daddy when he’s in one of his grumpy moods. Maybe he rubbed off on you more than you realize.”
Kyle was rendered almost speechless by that artless observation. Grown men had been known to pale when he had spoken to them the way he’d just snarled at Molly. And she just grinned and compared him to her daddy?
He wondered grimly how much longer it would be before the rain stopped and he could send her safely on her way.
The visit with Kyle was not going as well as Molly had hoped. She supposed she had been rather arrogant in thinking she could charm him into changing his mind about attending her party. She had thought a little friendly reminiscing, accompanied by a couple of soulful looks and maybe a few winsome smiles would accomplish exactly what she wanted.
That sort of thing always worked for Shane, she thought with a slight pout.
Amazingly enough, she didn’t think even Shane could get through to Kyle at this point. It was a shame, too. Molly suspected that Kyle was a lonely, unhappy man who was just too stubborn to admit he needed anyone else.
She glanced at her watch. It was just before 6:00 p.m. and still raining heavily. Deepening shadows blurred the corners of the room now as dark gray clouds obscured the skies outside. Kyle reached out to turn on a lamp on a table between the two recliners. “Are you hungry?”
She was, actually. She had stopped for a light lunch and a stretch break at just before noon, and she hadn’t had anything since. “I’m a little hungry.”
He put his hands on the arms of his chair and pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll see what I’ve got.”
Maybe this was his way of apologizing for snapping at her—not that an apology was necessary, since she was the one who’d tried to push him into talking about something that he’d already said made him uncomfortable. “There’s no need to go to any trouble on my behalf.”
He shrugged and kept walking. “I’m hungry. I’m going to eat, anyway—you might as well have something, too.”
It was hardly a gracious invitation, but considering she had arrived unannounced and uninvited on his doorstep, she considered herself fortunate that he was being even somewhat tolerant of her presence. She followed him into the kitchen. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
He opened the refrigerator door. “I can handle it.”
“I’m restless, Kyle. I’d like something useful to do to take my mind off the weather.”
He sighed gustily and tossed something onto the counter with a thump. “You can clean the lettuce and chop tomatoes and cucumbers for a salad. I’ve got a package of pasta and a jar of pesto sauce we can have with it.”
“That sounds good.”
With one of his characteristic shrugs, he said, “I eat a lot of prepackaged stuff. I’m not much of a cook.”
“Neither am I.” She stuck the lettuce under running water to wash it. “I’m sure you remember how Mom is about her kitchen. She loves to cook, and doesn’t like anyone underfoot when she’s busy. Since I was always happier outside with Dad and Shane anyway, I never did much cooking. A few years ago, Mom decided belatedly that I should learn how. Maybe she waited too late, but it was not a raving success. After eating a few of my meals, Dad and Shane begged me to go back out to the barns.”
She was babbling—but then Shane had always accused her of seeing silence as a vacuum begging to be filled.
Kyle didn’t chuckle in response to her story, nor did he pause in his dinner preparations. For a moment she wondered if he had been listening to her at all, but then he spoke. “Do you still live with your parents?”
Something about the way he asked annoyed her. She had told him she was almost twenty-four. Did he think she had accomplished nothing for herself since he’d left? Oh, right—he still thought of her as “little Molly.”
“I live on the ranch at the moment. I moved back full-time after I obtained my master’s degree in education last spring at Rice University in Houston. I’ve been tutoring the foster boys we’re housing now to bring them up to grade level while I wait for a full-time teaching position to open up in the local schools. I’ve been told a position should become available in January, and if it does, I’ll look for an apartment then.”
Again, she had given him way more information than he’d asked for. Maybe she was just the tiniest bit defensive about being unemployed and still living at home at almost twenty-four. She could easily have found a teaching job in the Dallas metroplex, probably, but the small school district closer to the ranch tended to have less turnover.
Her father had talked her into coming back to the ranch, rather than moving more than an hour away to live in Dallas. He had told her he needed her assistance now that he’d begun to take in more foster boys, turning the small ranching operation into a full-time group home for at-risk teenage boys. The truth was, Jared would be perfectly happy to have her live at home indefinitely.
“Shane still lives on the ranch, too,” she added when Kyle didn’t comment. “He added on to his house when he and Kelly had their two girls. Now he handles most of the livestock and general maintenance chores so Dad can concentrate on the day-to-day business aspects of running a group home.”
“How many boys are in residence there now?”
She was pleased that he had asked a question. Surely that meant she’d piqued his interest, right? “There are four now, but we’re approved to accept up to six. It isn’t officially a therapeutic foster home, since we don’t take boys with serious emotional or behavioral problems, just the ones who don’t seem to fit in anywhere else. I know when you were there we could only take one or two at a time, but we’ve made some changes. One of the barns has been converted into a dormitory, complete with a dining room and a study area with computers for homework. That’s where I spend most of my time with the boys.”
“Still no girls?”
“No. They’ve decided to focus solely on boys, since having girls there would open up a whole new set of challenges.”
He grunted, and she assumed that was an assent.
“So Shane has kids of his own now, huh?” he asked after working a few more minutes in silence.
“Two girls. Annie and Lucy. They’ve taken my place as the little girls all the boys become big brothers to.”
Fifteen years older than Molly, Shane had been a grown man when Kyle lived on the ranch. Shane had already built his house on the property and had been busy with his own life and friends—among them, Kelly Morrison, whom he had married not long after Kyle left.
“The girls have Shane—and Daddy—wrapped around their little fingers,” she added with a chuckle.
“That doesn’t surprise me. So did you.”
“I know.” She smiled unrepentantly. “I was shamelessly spoiled—and now Shane’s girls are being treated the same way. It’s a good thing Kelly is more like my mom when it comes to being the disciplinarian, or Annie and Lucy would be little brats.”
Kyle poured the strained, hot pasta into a bowl. “I saw your dad lay down the law to you a few times.”
“Let’s just say I knew exactly how much I could get away with before he drew the line. He got a bit more strict with me as I got older.”
“I’ll bet.”
Had that been a note of amusement in his voice? Encouraged, she carried the salad to the round oak table that sat at one end of the narrow kitchen. “It’s funny, but when it comes to the foster boys, Dad’s the disciplinarian and Mom’s the one who spoils them.”
“I remember that, too.”
“He knows so well what it was like to be an angry teenager, separated from his family and shuffled from one foster home to another. He knows what it takes to get through that anger and give the boys hope for their futures. His record of success has been amazing.”
Kyle had the table set now with plain, mismatched dishes and sturdy flatware. Without asking, he filled two glass tumblers with ice and water, setting them on the table along with the bowl of pasta and a plate of bread.
The rain was still falling heavily outside, and for some reason the sound of it hitting the windows made their simple dinner seem more intimate. Falling back on her usual habit, Molly started talking again to ward off any awkward silence.
“I’ve never been to this part of the country before. It’s really beautiful. How did you happen to end up here?”
Concentrating on his dinner, he shrugged. “I visited the area with a buddy and I liked it. When I had to choose a place to live after I got out of the Marines, I decided to come here.”
“I like your house.”
“It’s small,” he said. “Needs some repairs. A little isolated for some people’s tastes. But it was affordable and it suited me.”
“I think it’s great,” she assured him, entirely sincere. “The view alone is priceless. As for the location, it’s not so very far from Gatlinburg.”
He glanced at the window and the storm that raged outside. “Sometimes it seems farther than at other times.”
Like now, for example, his tone implied. With the storms making the roads so hazardous, the closest town might as well be hours away.
After they’d cleared away the dishes, Kyle looked at the window again. “It looks to me as though you have two choices. I can try to drive you back down the mountain, or you can spend the night here and leave in the morning.”
She crossed her arms and frowned at him. “You neglected to mention the third choice. I can drive myself down the mountain.”
“Not an option.”
“Why not? If it’s safe for you to drive…”
“I didn’t say it was safe. It would be a reckless and foolhardy drive with me at the wheel—and I know this mountain like the back of my hand. You’d never make it down. The best solution is for you to stay here tonight—but if that’s unacceptable to you, I’ll drive you.”
“Why would it be unacceptable to me?”
He looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t blame you if you have reservations about spending the night in a house with someone you barely know….”
She couldn’t help laughing, though she doubted he would share her amusement. “Give me a break. I’m not worried about being here with you.”
His sigh seemed to hold sheer exasperation. “Do you have no sense of self-preservation? You set off on a crazy, solo drive halfway across the country without telling anyone, then have no qualms at all about spending the night with a total stranger in an isolated house on a mountainside?”
“Kyle, you are not a total stranger. You were a member of my family for more than a year.”
“I was never a member of your family. I just lived there for a while when I had nowhere else to go.”
With that, he turned on one heel and stalked into the other room. Molly took a moment to admire how fluidly he moved, despite the limp—kind of a sexy, rolling gait that made her pulse rate increase before she shook her head and started after him. “So are you telling me I should be worried about staying here with you?”
“No, of course not,” he snapped impatiently, throwing himself into a chair. “You’re perfectly safe with me.”
“So, what’s your point?” She planted her hands on her hips to study him.
“The point is—hell, I can’t remember.” Slouching in the chair, he glared at his feet.
“Okay, then.” She dropped her arms. “Since I have no intention of risking either of our lives on the road, I might as well crash here until the storm’s over. I’ll take the couch.”
“Damn straight.”
She giggled, even though she knew he wasn’t joking. Funny how he could annoy her at one moment and amuse her at the next. Rather like Shane—except that she didn’t in any way think of Kyle as a brother.
“I have a computer in my bedroom,” he said, still looking grumpy. “You can send your brother an e-mail, if you want to.”
“That’s not necessary. He isn’t expecting to hear from me today.”
He shrugged. “Whatever you think best.”
Exactly what she liked to hear—that someone thought she knew what was best for her. “I’ll call him tomorrow morning, as soon as I have a cell phone signal.”
“Fine.” He glanced at a clock on the wall—the only thing he’d bothered to hang on the white-painted Sheet-rock. “I don’t know if you’re interested in football, but there’s a college game starting, and I was planning to watch.”
“Go ahead and watch your game. You don’t have to entertain me.”
“I didn’t intend to,” he replied, reaching for the remote to the big-screen TV in one corner of the room— the only luxury he had apparently treated himself to. A few minutes later, he was engrossed in the game, leav ing Molly to wonder if he was even aware that he still had company.
She wondered if his rudeness was his odd way of reassuring her that she really was safe from any unwanted advances from him. If so, she could have told him it wasn’t necessary. Maybe her libido had kicked into overdrive when she had watched him cross the room, but he seemed totally oblivious to her, other than as an inconvenience.
She stood and wandered toward the windows, debating whether she wanted to risk going out to her car for her bag. A painfully loud clap of thunder and a gust of wind-driven rain answered that question.
One corner of Kyle’s living room held a small bookcase, overflowing with paperbacks stacked two deep on the shelves. Since he was making so little effort to play the gracious host, she figured that relieved her of some of the rules of etiquette, as well.
Without asking, she knelt to scan through the titles. Thrillers, mysteries, science fiction, a little fantasy. No real surprises there, except for the sheer number of books. Living alone here as he did, so isolated in his mountain cabin, he probably turned to his books for company.
She plucked a promising-looking novel from the selection. “D’you mind if I read this while you watch your game?”
Without glancing at her, he gave a grunt that she assumed was an assent.
She curled up on one end of the couch and opened the book. She managed to read a page and a half during the next half hour. The writing was fine, the premise interesting—but when it came to holding her attention, the story could not compete with the reality of the man in the recliner a few feet away from her. He sat without moving, his full attention seemingly focused on the game playing on the screen, proving again that she wasn’t nearly as distracting to him as he was to her.
He fascinated her.
Granted, her memories of him were hazy. She had been so young when he left, and there had been several boys in her family since. He had been quiet even then, standing apart from group activities. So many of the boys had arrived rebellious and angry at the circumstances that had landed them in foster care, but Kyle had kept his emotions carefully locked away. From what Molly had been told, he’d been obedient and cooperative, though so obsessively guarded that it had taken Cassie and Jared several months to coax a genuine smile from him.
Molly remembered his smiles. Perhaps because they had been so rare, and because she had been so accustomed to winning over everyone she met, she had been thrilled the few times Kyle had actually smiled in her direction.
Whatever their challenges, Molly had considered each of the foster boys brothers. Even though she had known from the start that their stays would only be temporary, she had still grieved each time one of them moved on. Her parents had protected her from physical dangers during her childhood, but they hadn’t been able to prevent the heartaches that accompanied each departure. Instead, they had shared them—and then all of them had opened their home and hearts again to the next boy who needed them.
During the past year or so, she had realized that her childhood had set a pattern for the way she interacted with the men she’d met as an adult. She had never had a serious relationship. It seemed that anyone who initially expressed a special interest in her had ended up seeing her more as a kid sister or close pal.
Her girlfriends had accused her of manipulating the situations to ensure just that outcome. They had suggested that she was commitment-phobic, or had her standards set too high. Her response had been that she was too young to get tied down to one guy.
While that had been the truth, she suspected there had been more to her reluctance to give her heart completely to anyone. But for some reason, she had always shied away from examining her skittishness more closely.
Oddly enough, it had been easier for her to see those potential suitors as brother figures than it was to think of Kyle that way now, even though he’d once been a part of her family. She had thought of the others as nice boys. Kyle was a man battered by experience, a soldier hardened by battle. He was only a little more than five years her senior, but she was painfully aware of the vast differences between his life and her own decidedly sheltered existence.
Did he still see a little girl when he looked at her? Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be the only one who did.
Though he didn’t look at her, Kyle was all too aware of Molly’s eyes on him during the evening. He focused fiercely on the game, though he was unable to enjoy it as much as usual.
Why did she keep staring at him? He wasn’t doing anything entertaining. He certainly wasn’t that interesting to look at. Was she studying his scars, wondering how he’d gotten them? Was she comparing the man she saw now to the boy she remembered?
He could have told her she might as well stop looking for similarities. As far as he was concerned, that boy had died in a fiery blast in the Middle East.
When he could stand her scrutiny no longer, he gave a silent, mental curse and shoved himself to his feet. “I’m getting something to drink. You want any—”
Before he could complete the question, he stumbled, almost taking a nosedive straight down to the floor. His bum leg had locked up while he’d been sitting so self-consciously motionless, and now it refused to cooperate, punishing his too-sudden movement with a jawclenching wave of pain. He knew the spasm would subside if he stood perfectly still for a few minutes, then swallowed a couple of pain pills. He’d certainly had enough experience.
Soft hands clutched his arm. “Are you all right?”
He shook her off. “I’m fine. Just a cramp. What do you want to drink?”
“Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get us something?”
She could almost feel the embarrassment, frustration and anger seething in the look he gave her.
She took a hasty step backward, raising both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay. Fine. You go. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
It took every ounce of strength he had to force his feet to move and his legs to support him as he headed for the kitchen. Pain slammed through him with every step, but he kept his head high and his shoulders squared.
Life and war had left him with very little, but he still had his pride. It refused to allow him to show any further weakness in front of Molly Walker.
Chapter Three
It was all Molly could do not to rush to help Kyle into the kitchen. As the minutes crept by after he disappeared into the other room, the urge to check on him was almost overwhelming. Only the memory of the glare he had given her kept her in her chair.
He had looked hard and sort of aggressive, and she suspected most people would have been intimidated. Maybe a little annoyed that their instinctive offer of help had been so coldly rebuffed. Molly’s reaction had been just the opposite. Her heart had twisted in sympathy for him, an emotion she had known better than to let him see.
A lifetime of experience with angry and bitter young men had made her quite skilled at reading pain—physical and emotional. She had seen both when she looked into Kyle’s eyes.
A good fifteen minutes passed before he returned, carrying two cans of caffeine-free cola. Most of the color had returned to his face, she noted, but his eyes were still dark. Deep lines had settled in around the corners of his mouth, as though he held his facial muscles clenched.
She wondered what it was costing him just to keep moving. She would bet that if she wasn’t there, he would be flat on his back and moaning right now.
Her knowledge of the male ego kept her from voicing any of her concerns aloud. She thanked him for the soda, then pretended to read again while he walked with carefully measured steps to the recliner.
She let a few more minutes pass, and then she yawned delicately, but audibly. “Gosh, I’m getting tired. It was such a long trip here.”
After a pause, Kyle said almost offhandedly, “I’ll go back to my room so you can get some rest in here.”
She kept any hint of satisfaction out of her voice when she replied, “I don’t want you to miss your game.”
He shrugged. “It’s pretty one-sided, anyway.”
Pleased that she had come up with a way to send him to bed without a loss of pride—and making him think it was his idea in the process—she said, “Just don’t leave on my account. I can wait until you’re ready to turn in.”
He gave her a look that might have held a hint of suspicion, but she kept her expression as unrevealing as her voice. His shoulders seemed to relax when he nodded. “I’ll get you some sheets and a blanket. You can bunk down here on the couch, and I’ll read in my room until I’m ready to turn in.”
A very short time later, Molly lay on the couch listening to the rain that fell more gently against the roof now. With only a very brief “good-night,” Kyle had retired to his room. She hadn’t heard a sound from that direction since.
She hoped he had gone to bed—and that he had taken a pain pill or two while he’d been in the kitchen earlier. She knew he had some; she had seen the prescription bottles on his counter.
She supposed she would head back to Texas first thing tomorrow. If she left early, she might make the trip in one day. She would be worn-out when she got home, but satisfied that she had done absolutely everything she could to make sure her parents’ anniversary party was perfect. She wasn’t content with the results of her efforts, of course, since Kyle still refused to attend-but she had given it her best shot. That was all she could do.
Shane had accused her of being obsessed with Kyle Reeves during the past few weeks, so determined to convince him to attend the party that she couldn’t think straight. This impulsive trek to Kyle’s home probably proved her brother right about her mental condition. But now that she had made the trip and had a definitive answer, she should be able to put it behind her.
The funny thing was, now that she had actually spent time with Kyle, she seemed to be even more obsessed with him than she had been before.
Kyle’s first thought when he woke the next morning was that the pain had mercifully subsided to a more manageable—and all-too-familiar—dull ache. The sleep and medication had done their stuff, letting him get out of bed with a minimum of discomfort and grumbling.
It was only when he reached the closed bedroom door, which he usually left open at night, that he remembered he wasn’t alone in his house. Grinding out a curse, he turned back toward the dresser to pull out a pair of gray sweats. He doubted that Molly would appreciate the sight of him in his underwear first thing in the morning.
Grateful to find the bathroom empty, he showered, but didn’t bother with shaving. He had just shaved the afternoon before, and he saw no need to do so again.
Dried and dressed, he moved toward the kitchen. He found himself walking with much the same quiet caution he’d used in the military when he’d been braced for a surprise attack. Maybe he would find that observation amusing later. After Molly was on her way.
He stopped in the doorway of the living room. Molly was still asleep on the couch. Her long, red hair tumbled around her face and onto the pillow he had provided for her. She had kicked off her blanket, revealing the fact that she had slept in her clothes, removing only her shoes and socks.
It couldn’t have been comfortable spending the night in her shirt and jeans. He should have offered her something to change into—a big T-shirt or something. But the thought of Molly sleeping on his couch wearing nothing but one of his shirts made his entire body clench.
Maybe it was just as well that he hadn’t offered. He reminded himself of who she was, and the way she had looked the last time he’d seen her. But, damn, it was hard to visualize a little girl when Molly was lying on his couch all warm and flushed and curvy. Those full lips that could go so quickly from sexy pout to blinding smile were slightly parted in sleep, and he could imagine all too well how sweet they would taste.
She sighed and nestled into the sofa cushions, drawing one leg up into a more comfortable position. Which, of course, only made him imagine how comfortably those long legs would fit around him.
That jarring mental image made him stumble backward, a near panicky retreat. He must have made some sort of sound. Molly stirred and opened her eyes. She smiled when she saw him. “Good morning.”
Between the effects of her smile and the sleepy huskiness of her voice, it was all he could do to respond without stammering. “Morning,” he said curtly. “Sorry I woke you.”
With a rather feline stretch that drained the last of the moisture from his mouth, she swung her bare feet to the wood floor, then quickly lifted them again with a little yelp. “Cold floor,” she explained.
He scowled toward the front door. “The weather stripping is shot. I keep meaning to work on that.”
She had already retrieved the chunky clogs she’d worn the day before. Sliding her feet into them, she stood, tugging her shirt down over the waistband of her jeans. “You look as though you slept well.”
He was glad now that he’d taken the time to shower and comb his hair. He hadn’t liked showing any weakness in front of her the night before. “Not bad. You?”
“Surprisingly well,” she said cheerfully.
The rain had stopped during the night and sunlight streamed through the east-facing windows. Kyle figured she could safely be on her way at any time, since the water ran quickly down the mountain once the rains ended. Cheered by the awareness that he would soon have his house to himself again—and would be spared any more inappropriate fantasies about Molly Walker— he decided he might as well feed her before ushering her out.
“Want some breakfast?”
She nodded eagerly. “Sounds good. Just let me freshen up and I’ll help you prepare something.”
“I can handle it. Take your time. There are clean towels in the bathroom cabinet if you want a shower.”
Because just the passing thought of Molly in the shower was enough to make him sweat again, he turned toward the kitchen. He needed to busy his mind and his hands. Immediately.
Mesmerized by the beauty of the washed-clean mountain scenery around Kyle’s cabin, Molly was tempted to linger for a while outside when she retrieved her bag from her car. The air was chilly, but so fresh and clean it was almost intoxicating. Pearl-gray clouds hung low over the mountaintops, clearly demonstrating why they were called the Smoky Mountains. Rushing water tumbled over huge boulders in the creek that ran alongside the gravel road leading away from the cabin, and a full orchestra of birds performed in the treetops.
Forcing herself back inside, she showered and dressed quickly. As she checked her reflection in the steamy mirror over his bathroom sink, she mused that she could certainly understand why Kyle had chosen this place to hide himself away and heal.
She hadn’t brought many clothes with her on this hasty trip, but she was satisfied that the pumpkin colored, three-quarter-sleeve T-shirt and low-slung, boot-cut jeans flattered her. Not that she was trying to impress Kyle or anything, she assured herself as she fluffed her freshly washed and dried hair and checked her makeup.
By the time she joined him in the kitchen, he had breakfast already on the table. Her tummy rumbled in response to the scent of food filling the room. He was just setting out a container of orange juice when she walked in.
Something about the way he looked, standing there with the morning sunlight washing over him, his shaggy brown hair tumbling onto his forehead, his too-thin-but-all-male body encased in a gray sweatshirt and loose jeans, made her brain shut down. Before it kicked back into gear, she heard herself blurting, “No coffee?”
She answered herself as she belatedly remembered what he had said the night before. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t drink coffee.”
“No. But I can make you a cup of herbal tea, if you want.”
“Orange juice is fine.” She crossed the room and slid into the chair he indicated for her. “I’m not all that crazy about coffee, anyway. I just drink a cup in the mornings out of habit. Daddy, now, has to have his coffee—entirely too much of it. Mom finally talked him into switching to decaf after noon.”
She was babbling again. And as far as she could tell, Kyle hadn’t heard a word of it. He had already started eating his simple breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast.
Molly drew a deep breath to steady herself and reached for the condiments he’d set out. Her spirits rose when she saw the container of Cajun seasoning—a mixture of salt, black and red peppers and garlic.
She reached for it eagerly and sprinkled it over the fluffy scrambled eggs. “Obviously you learned a few things while you were on the ranch—like how to season eggs.”
“I learned a lot more than that.”
She would have liked to follow up on that mumbled response with a barrage of questions about exactly what lessons he had learned from her parents, and about the memories he had carried away with him, but she knew better. Kyle would volunteer what he wanted her to know and that, apparently, wasn’t much.
“Don’t push them,” her mother had once said when Molly asked how Cassie managed to connect with so many emotionally withdrawn young men. “You have to treat them like wild animals, in a way. Respect their fears and suspicions, knowing they’ve come from experience. Show them kindness and let them come to you in their own time.”
It had worked for Cassie, as she’d had amazing success with her foster sons. Yet Molly had heard that Cassie’s strategy had been a bit different when it had come to another wary, emotionally guarded male. According to Molly’s aunts, Cassie had gone after Jared with a relentless, single-minded determination, giving him no choice but to fall in love with her and make her his wife.
Molly studied Kyle across the table, free to do so because he was pointedly not looking at her. If—hypothetically, of course—a woman wanted to catch Kyle Reeves, which method would be more effective? The patient, wait-until-he-comes-to-you approach? Or the no-holds-barred pursuit?
“Eat your eggs before they get cold,” he muttered, letting her know he was aware of her scrutiny.
“I’m eating.” She forked another bite of spicy eggs into her mouth to prove her point, then swallowed them hastily so she could ask, “Just one more question?”
He sighed. “What?”
“Don’t you ever get lonely up here on your pretty mountaintop?”
“I’ve only lived here a little more than five months. Haven’t really had time to get lonely yet.”
“And when you do?”
He shrugged. “If I do—I’ll find some company. In the meantime, I’m considering what to do now that I’m out of the Marines earlier than I’d planned.”
It sounded as though he had planned to retire from the military. “Do you have any other ideas yet?”
“A couple.”
When it became clear that he wasn’t going to expand on that, she spoke again. “Do you plan to stay here in Tennessee or will you go back to Texas eventually?”
“There’s nothing for me in Texas,” he said bluntly. She tried to recall what she had been told about his past. She remembered that his mother had died when he was a teenager, and that he’d had no other family willing to take him in. She didn’t know anything about his father.
She thought he’d been assigned to a couple other foster homes before he’d come to the ranch. Cassie had said that Kyle was never a behavioral challenge, just so deeply withdrawn and introverted that his social worker had thought it would do him good to be placed with the easygoing and gregarious Walker family.
“When will you—”
“I thought you said there was just one more question,” he cut in before she could finish asking more about his plans for the future.
“Sorry. I’m just curious about you,” she admitted. He grabbed his breakfast dishes and stood, his chair rattling against the floor. “Trust me. I’m not that interesting.”
She didn’t believe that for a minute. But she knew when to back off—at least, for now—so she pushed the rest of her questions to the back of her mind and gathered her own plate and fork. “Please let me do the dishes. It’s the least I can do to repay you for your hospitality.”
He looked for a moment as though he was going to argue, but then he nodded shortly. “Fine. Just leave them in the drainer to dry. I’ll put them away later.”
He didn’t stay to keep her company while she worked. A few minutes later, she heard the television come on in the other room. It sounded as though he had tuned in a cable morning news program. She wouldn’t have thought he was the type to be interested in politics. Maybe he would just prefer to listen to the Senate majority leader than to deal with any more of her questions.
The kitchen was spotless when she had finished. She tossed a damp paper towel in the trash can beneath the sink, unable to find an excuse to delay any longer. She might as well be on her way. She had a long trip ahead of her today.
She had just walked into the living room where Kyle was settled into his usual chair when someone knocked on the front door. Trying to hide her curiosity, she perched on the couch while Kyle crossed the room to answer. A stocky, gray-haired man stood on the doorstep, holding a large cardboard box in his hands.
“Morning, Kyle.”
Kyle didn’t seem surprised by his caller’s identity. “Morning, Mack.”
“I told Jewel I was coming up to see if you rode out the storm okay, and she sent a couple of casseroles for you to put in your freezer.”
Kyle reached for the box. “Tell her thanks for me. She knows I’ll enjoy them.”
“Her cooking has put a couple of pounds back on you, but not near enough,” the older man observed, eying Kyle critically.
Molly frowned. Kyle had gained weight? Wow, how thin had he been before?
“Come in, Mack, while I set these in the kitchen.” Kyle stepped out of the doorway, and Molly wondered if she was correct in thinking he did so a bit reluctantly.
“I wouldn’t turn down a cup of that herbal tea you like so much. It’s right chilly this morning.” Mack had gotten all the way into the living room before he spotted Molly. “Well, hello.”
She stood, giving him a friendly smile. “Hi.” “Molly Walker—Mack McDooley.” Apparently considering the introduction complete, Kyle disappeared into the kitchen with the casseroles.
Looking in the direction in which Kyle had just disappeared, Mack chuckled wryly before turning back to Molly. “Kyle’s not much for conversation.”
Molly laughed softly. “No, he’s not.”
Waving her to the couch, Mack took the nearest recliner and crossed his right leg over his left knee, looking completely at home. He wore a gray plaid cotton shirt and neatly pressed jeans with black socks and brown suede shoes. His skin was weathered, and his eyes were as gray as his hair and brows.
Molly guessed his age to be early to midsixties— maybe a couple of years older than her own father. Also like Jared, this man looked as though he was no stranger to strenuous physical labor.
“So, have you known Kyle long?” Mack asked, using a jovially paternal tone probably meant to soften the blatant curiosity behind the question.
“Since I was a child, actually.”
“Really.” That had obviously taken him aback. “I didn’t think Kyle had any living family members.”
“Oh, we’re not family—exactly.” Because she wasn’t sure how much Kyle told anyone about his past, she wasn’t comfortable mentioning that he’d once been in foster care. “Just friends.”
“I see.” But he obviously did not.
Figuring one good question deserved another, Molly asked, “Are you Kyle’s neighbor?”
“Not exactly. I live in Gatlinburg with my wife, Jewel. She just about fretted herself silly last night worrying about Kyle up here alone in that storm. She was half convinced a tree fell on him during the night, crushing him in his sleep.”
“Jewel shouldn’t worry so much,” Kyle said, coming back into the room. “It isn’t good for her.”
Mack reached for the steaming cup of tea Kyle offered. “You know how she is. Especially when it comes to you.”
Though he hadn’t asked if she wanted one, Kyle had brought tea for Molly, too. He handed her the mug, then settled into his recliner. She noted that he hadn’t brought tea for himself, and that he sat rather stiffly, self-conscious in his role as host—a role she would bet he didn’t play very often.
She was almost squirming with curiosity now. She wouldn’t have expected Kyle to make friends like this in his relatively short time living in this area. As introverted and grumpy as he tended to be, she certainly wouldn’t expect him to be all-but-adopted by a local couple.
No, there was obviously more to this relationship than a recently instigated friendship. “Your wife sounds like my aunt Layla,” she said in what she hoped was a subtle attempt to learn more. “She’s the official worrier in our family—and it’s a very large family, so we keep her busy all the time.”
She was guiltily aware that Layla would have hysterics if she knew about Molly’s long, solitary drive to eastern Tennessee. Of course, Layla would have to stand in line behind Molly’s parents, brother and a couple dozen other relatives to yell at her for her reckless trek. And if her aunt Lindsey found out she had driven right through Little Rock without stopping to say hello— well, that didn’t bear thinking about just now. Suffice it to say that Lindsey would not be pleased.
“Yes, well, Jewel doesn’t have that many people to worry about anymore,” Mack said quietly, giving Kyle a look that spoke volumes, if only she knew how to read it. “Kyle, here, is one of them.”
Molly glanced at Kyle, who was looking increasingly uncomfortable. “I’m sure he appreciates her concern.”
Her comment made Mack’s somber expression lighten. “I’m sure he does. Maybe someday he’ll even admit it to himself.”
“Either of you ever hear that it’s rude to talk about someone as if he weren’t in the room?”
Both Mack and Molly smiled in response to Kyle’s grumbling—not to mention the faint flush of embarrassment on his cheeks.
Mack took pity on him. “I didn’t see any damage on the drive up. Still some water on the roads, but no travel problems.”
Obviously relieved by the change of topic, Kyle nodded. “Good to hear.”
“Did your roof leak?”
“No. The guy you recommended did a good job.” Mack grunted in satisfaction and sipped his tea. After a moment, he turned back to Molly. “I think I hear more than a hint of Texas in your voice?”
She chuckled. “Guilty. I grew up on a ranch outside of Dallas.”
Mack’s brows rose. “The ranch where you lived for a while, Kyle?”
Kyle nodded, and once again Molly had to struggle to hide her surprise. So Mack knew at least a little about Kyle’s past. Interesting.
“I came to invite Kyle to a party—a reunion, of sorts—at the ranch next week.”
Kyle shot Molly a look of reproval even as Mack said hastily, “Well, that sounds like fun. I’m sure you’ll enjoy—”
“I’m not going.”
Mack shook his head in disapproval. “Why not? It would do you good to get away for a few days, see your old friends. You’re getting around real well now, so—”
“I’ve already informed Molly that I am unable to attend,” Kyle cut in stiffly. His tone made it very clear that the subject was not open to further discussion.
“Well, that’s a shame,” Mack replied frankly. “I bet you’d have had a good time—if you’d let yourself.”
“How’s the renovation on the cottage coming along?” Kyle asked, very deliberately changing the subject again. “Made any headway since last week?”
“All the rain we’ve had the past few days hasn’t helped.” Mack seemed resigned to allowing Kyle to lead the conversation. “I’m hoping the guys can get back to work by midweek.”
He turned to Molly, making an effort to keep her involved in the conversation. “My wife and I own a motel in Gatlinburg and a few cabins in the mountains. We rent them to tourists in summer and during winter ski season.”
“Have you lived in this area a long time?”
“We both grew up in these parts. Bought the motel thirty years ago, and picked up a few rental properties along the way. Our son—well, he was going to take it all over eventually. He loved these mountains, especially in the winter.”
His use of the past tense twisted Molly’s heart. “Do you have any other children?” she asked softly.
“No. We just had the one son. We were both in our thirties when Tommy came along. To say he blessed our lives would be an understatement.”
He had adored his son. It was written in the sudden softness of his face, and the deep sorrow in his eyes. Molly bit her lip, unsure what to say since she knew so few details.
Mack seemed to mentally shake himself out of his bittersweet memories. He smiled toward Kyle. “It’s been real good for Jewel to have Kyle here to fuss over since we lost Tommy. Kyle was Tommy’s best friend in the Marines, almost like brothers. We came to think of Kyle as a member of the family when he’d come home to visit with our boy. We were sure glad he let us talk him into buying this little cabin and staying close by where we could keep an eye on him while he recuperates.”
Kyle cleared his throat—hard—and pushed himself to his feet again. “I just remembered that I have a couple of Jewel’s empty casserole dishes in the kitchen. Let me get them for you, and you can be on your way, Mack. I know you’ll have things to do now that the storm’s over.”
He limped into the kitchen without giving Mack a chance to respond.
Chapter Four
After Kyle’s abrupt escape, Mack gave Molly a quizzical look that made her giggle. “Guess Kyle’s ready for me to go. He’s not exactly subtle with his hints.”
Nodding her head in agreement, she thought ruefully that Kyle would be pushing her out the door as soon as he’d gotten rid of Mack.
Mack studied her with frank appraisal. “It’s a shame you couldn’t talk him into going to the party. He spends too much time up here by himself. Not that I want you to take him back to Texas permanently, of course,” he added. “I’m too selfish to want to give him up—for my sake, as well as for Jewel’s.”
“When did you lose your son?” she asked tentatively, wondering if she already knew.
He confirmed what she had guessed. “Almost nine months now. He was in the same explosion as Kyle. It was tough for all of us,” he said, lowering his voice, “but Kyle’s having a difficult time dealing with the guilt of surviving when Tommy didn’t make it. Jewel and I are doing our best to convince him that we don’t blame him, and that he shouldn’t blame himself, but…well, it’s been hard.”
Molly reached out impulsively across the distance between the sofa and the recliner to lay a hand on Mack’s arm. “I’m so very sorry.”
He blinked a couple of times, then cleared his throat, set his tea mug on the coffee table and reached into his shirt pocket. “Want to see a picture of my boy? I always carry it.”
“I’d love to see it.”
Even though it had been encased in plastic, the snap shot was battered from much handling. Molly’s throat tightened as she studied it.
Kyle looked so much younger in the photo, though it probably hadn’t been much more than a year since it had been taken. He was smiling self-consciously for the camera, but he looked happy. Healthy. He stood beside a grinning young man with windblown sandy hair and Mack’s kind gray eyes. The scenery spreading behind them was local, so they must have been on one of those visits home Mack had mentioned.
Her voice was husky when she returned the photograph. “He was a very handsome man. Like his father.”
“I like this young lady, Kyle,” Mack said, sliding the much-treasured photo back into his pocket. “A smart man wouldn’t let her get away too easily.”
Kyle scowled as he entered the room, holding two clean casserole dishes. “Tell Jewel I said thanks for the food, and that I’ll be down to see her in a few days. And thanks for coming by, Mack. It’s always good to see you.”
Mack stood and held out his hand to Molly, who had risen when he did. “It was real nice to meet you, Miss Molly. Maybe we’ll have a chance to visit again someday.”
She smiled at him, liking him immensely. “Maybe we will,” she said, though they both knew it was unlikely. She doubted that she would have any reason to visit Kyle again after she left today.
It made her sad to think she would never see him again—so she decided to be optimistic, instead. After all, there was still a chance—however slim—that he would change his mind about attending the party.
Kyle escorted his friend to the front door, stepping out to chat for a few more minutes on the front porch. Molly couldn’t hear what they were saying, nor did she try to listen in.
Meeting Mack had made her feel a little better about Kyle, in some ways. Kyle had seemed so alone before; she was glad to know he had someone nearby who cared about him. And whom he obviously cared about in return. Despite his gruffness, he hadn’t been able to completely hide his fondness for Mack McDooley.
She understood a little better now why Kyle was so grim. Not only had he been seriously injured and forced to leave his chosen career, but he’d lost his best friend at the same time. It was no wonder he was angry with life in general just now.
Yet he had chosen to settle near his friend’s parents, so he hadn’t been able to cut himself off entirely from other people. Obviously, it had been a beneficial arrangement for all of them.
“I like him,” she said when Kyle came back inside and the sound of Mack’s car engine faded into the distance.
“He’s a good man,” Kyle said simply. “And his wife really is a jewel.”
“You were close to their son.” It wasn’t a question, but her tone invited him to tell her about his friend if he wanted to.
Kyle picked up the mug Mack had left on the coffee table. “He was the closest I ever came to having a brother.”
She swallowed, a little surprised he’d opened up even that much to her. “I’m sorry you lost him.”
He was silent for a long moment, perhaps to make sure his voice was uninflected when he said, “So am I.”
Without looking at her again, he carried the mug into the kitchen.
Remembering the two smiling friends in the photograph, Molly didn’t try to follow him immediately. The sizable lump in her throat made it doubtful that she’d have been able to speak steadily just then, herself.
Kyle wasn’t in any hurry to return to the living room where Molly waited. Though he was usually able to hold his emotions tightly reined around other people, seeing her looking at that photograph of him and Tommy with such sadness on her face had triggered his own grief again. He’d been able to push it back down, but it had taken a massive effort. He needed a few minutes to make sure the emotional barriers were firmly back in place before he rejoined her.
Before he could decide whether enough time had passed, she came to him.
“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, standing in the doorway watching him too intently for comfort.
Though he was well aware she wasn’t talking about housework, he shook his head. “I’ve got everything cleared away in here. But thanks, anyway.”
She bit her lower lip, and he found himself aching to smooth the faint marks her teeth left. With his own lips. Which only went to show, he thought in disgust, that he wasn’t nearly as much in control of himself as he had hoped. Standing here wanting to kiss Molly Walker? Apparently he had temporarily lost his mind.
He had the odd sensation that the air was slowly escaping the room, leaving it hard for him to breathe. He tugged at the neckline of his gray sweatshirt. Glancing toward the windows, he cleared his throat. “Morning’s slipping away.”
She looked at her watch, then nodded slowly. “I suppose I should get on the road. It’s a long drive back to the ranch.”
“Too far for you to be making the trip by yourself,” he grumbled, genuinely concerned at the thought of her making that long drive alone. But what the hell was he supposed to do about it?
“I’ll be all right. I’ve got a car charger for my cell phone in case the battery goes dead, and a credit card for gas and expenses. My car’s in good shape, and the tires are brand-new. The only thing that doesn’t work is the radio, and I’ve got plenty of CDs.”
CDs and a credit card, and she thought she was prepared for anything. Hell.
“Call your brother as soon as you get a cell phone signal,” he ordered her. “Let him keep track of your progress this time.”
She nodded. “I will. Kyle—”
He braced for the question he knew was coming.
“Won’t you please reconsider coming to the party? It would only be for a few hours, and it would mean a lot to my parents. It would mean a lot to me, too,” she added softly, her eyes so dark with emotion they were almost emerald.
It was more difficult to say it each time, but he managed to get the words out. “No, Molly. I can’t.”
“You can’t stay up here brooding forever. Even Mack thinks it would be good for you to get away for a few days.”
Not for the first time, it occurred to him that she was either the most courageous or most foolhardy woman he’d ever met. Didn’t she know that wounded strays were likely to lash out at anyone who reached out to them? If she had cornered him like this only a couple of months earlier, she’d have been lucky to escape unscathed.
Fortunately, he’d recovered somewhat since then— both physically and emotionally—so he simply gave her a cool look and said, “I know best what’s good for me.”
Her lips twisted into a little smile that looked very sad. “I’m sure you believe that.”
She’d always had a tender heart. He remembered how easily she had cried as a child—rarely for herself, that he remembered, but usually when someone else had been hurt or upset. Now she’d apparently decided that he deserved her sympathy. He could almost feel his male ego shriveling in response to the pity he was afraid he saw in her eyes.
But, because she was Molly, he couldn’t be angry with her. Anyone else, maybe—but not her. “I’ll help you carry your bags, out,” he offered, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.
She seemed to give herself a little shake. “I only have one. I can handle it.”
He remained where he was when she turned to go collect her things. She would be on her way very shortly. And then his life could get back to normal. And he was not sitting up here “brooding,” he assured himself with a touch of defiance. He stayed busy. He worked out, he did repairs on the house, he read and researched possible paths for his future.
He had offers—Mack was urging him rather persistently to join him in the rental business, for example. Or he could go back to school on the military’s tab, studying anything that interested him.
Maybe he had gotten a raw deal, but he wasn’t brooding and he didn’t need her to rescue him. It was bad enough that Mack and Jewel fretted over him so much, a situation he tolerated only because he knew they needed to do so.
No, he had enough people in his life for now. Molly had plenty of others to cater to her—her parents, her brother and his family, all those aunts, uncles and cousins he remembered, the other foster boys who had probably all stayed close to the Walker family.
She probably had a boyfriend. A lover, he corrected himself, belatedly remembering her age. At least one, considering the way she looked. Hell, guys were probably lined up at her door.
It must have been a new experience for her to have to drive across two and a half states to practically beg a man to visit her.
Her green overnight bag was slung over her shoulder, and her car keys were in her hand. She was going. And the fact that his first instinct was to throw himself in front of the door to bar her way was proof that she wasn’t leaving too soon.
“You’ll be careful?” He tried to speak brusquely, but he wasn’t sure he was entirely successful.
“I’ll be careful.” She moistened her lips, then held out a hand to him. “I wrote down all the numbers at the ranch and my own cell number. Our e-mail address is on here, too. Maybe you could call or drop us a line sometime—just to let us know how you’re doing.”
“You sent me all that information when you invited me to the party the first time.” But he took the folded sheet of paper, anyway, since she had gone to the trouble of writing it all out for him.
“Just hang on to the list.” She smiled faintly. “Maybe you’ll decide you want to use it someday.”
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GINA WILKINS
NEVER TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWERThat had always been Molly Walker's motto. So when Kyle Reeves refused to come to the Walker Ranch for a celebration, Molly set out to bring Kyle back one way or another….Bruised and battered, the last thing Kyle needed was a reminder from his past…especially from the redheaded beauty who landed on his doorstep. Kyle knew he wasn't the man Molly remembered from long ago, nor could he give her what she deserved–love, family and a Texas home.But when faced with a woman who wouldn't take no for an answer, would Kyle say yes to the passion and love he'd been searching for?
“C’mon, Kyle, there’s no need for you to go.”
Molly’s chatty, no-one-could-doubt-that-we’re-just-buddies attitude was beginning to get on his nerves. Sure, it was the safest strategy—but she was starting to carry it too far.
“I doubt your brother or your parents would like us spending this much time together in a motel room.”
“Don’t be silly. Daddy and Shane wouldn’t care. After all, you’re—”
If she called him “like family” one more time, he was liable to do something incredibly stupid. Like shut her up with his own mouth….
Dear Reader,
Well, if there were ever a month that screamed for a good love story—make that six!—February would be it. So here are our Valentine’s Day gifts to you from Silhouette Special Edition. Let’s start with The Road to Reunion by Gina Wilkins, next up in her FAMILY FOUND series. When the beautiful daughter of the couple who raised him tries to get a taciturn cowboy to come home for a family reunion, Kyle Reeves is determined to turn her down. But try getting Molly Walker to take no for an answer! In Marie Ferrarella’s Husbands and Other Strangers, a woman in a boating accident finds her head injury left her with no permanent effects—except for the fact that she can’t seem to recall her husband. In the next installment of our FAMILY BUSINESS continuity, The Boss and Miss Baxter by Wendy Warren, an unemployed single mother is offered a job—not to mention a place to live for her and her children—with the grumpy, if gorgeous, man who fired her!
“Who’s Your Daddy?” is a question that takes on new meaning when a young woman learns that a rock star is her biological father, that her mother is really in love with his brother—and that she herself can’t resist her new father’s protégé. Read all about it in It Runs in the Family by Patricia Kay, the second in her CALLIE’S CORNER CAFÉ miniseries. Vermont Valentine, the conclusion to Kristin Hardy’s HOLIDAY HEARTS miniseries, tells the story of the last single Trask brother, Jacob—he’s been alone for thirty-six years. But that’s about to change, courtesy of the beautiful scientist now doing research on his property. And in Teresa Hill’s A Little Bit Engaged, a woman who’s been a bride-to-be for five years yet never saw fit to actually set a wedding date finds true love where she least expects it—with a pastor.
So keep warm, stay romantic, and we’ll see you next month….
Gail Chasan
Senior Editor
The Road to Reunion
Gina Wilkins
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
GINA WILKINS
is a bestselling and award-winning author who has written more than seventy books for Harlequin and Silhouette. Ms. Wilkins has appeared on the Waldenbooks, B. Dalton and USA TODAY bestseller lists. She is a three-time recipient of the Maggie Award for Excellence, sponsored by Georgia Romance Writers, and has won several awards from the reviewers of Romantic Times BOOKclub.
It’s Jared and Cassie Walker’s twenty-fifth wedding anniversary and you are cordially invited to the biggest bash in Texas!
After decades of caring and support for their friends and family, we want to honor these two lovebirds. So, come one, come all to celebrate on the Walker Ranch, Saturday, October 15!
RSVP with Molly and Shane Walker
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Prologue
“Molly, give it up. Kyle isn’t coming.”
Molly Walker crossed her arms and glared at her half brother. “I want to try one more time to convince him.”
Shane swept his Stetson off his head and wiped his dripping forehead with a bandana he had pulled from the back pocket of his well-worn jeans. Even at the end of September, it was still blistering hot in central Texas, and he had been working all day on the ranch he owned with their father, Jared Walker. Molly had caught him just as he was putting away the last of his gear for the day. She knew he was eager to join his wife, Kelly, and their two young daughters for dinner, but he was patient, as always, with his younger sister.
“You’ve sent two representatives to talk to him since we located him in late July. He sent them both back to you with a very clear message that he wants to be left alone. I know taking hints isn’t one of your strong points, Molly, but even you can get that message.”
“I’m just not sure he understands exactly what I’m trying to do for Mom and Dad. Having all their former foster boys together for a surprise silver anniversary party would mean so much to them. I know there are a few who can’t make it, but we’ve got nearly everyone. Kyle’s presence would make the party almost perfect.”
“Not if he doesn’t want to be here.”
“Why wouldn’t he? I know he was wounded over seas, but all the reports are that he seems to be almost fully recovered now, so that shouldn’t be a problem. He was close to Mom and Dad, especially Mom. They were very fond of him. They went to his high school graduation. Mom sent cookies when he went to boot camp, for Pete’s sake. He was a member of our family.”
“No, honey. He just lived with us for a couple of years when he was a kid. Things change. Kyle changed. Maybe it was the war, or maybe just the passage of time, but he stopped calling, answering letters, making any attempt to stay in touch. Mom was disappointed, but she knew she had to let him go. Just as you have to do now.”
She felt her lower lip start to protrude, and she made a deliberate effort to draw it back in. She would be twenty-four in just over a month. It wasn’t particularly becoming for a twenty-four-year-old woman to pout. “I can’t believe Kyle never wants to see us again. I just want to ask him one more time.”
“So write him a letter.”
“I’m not sure a letter would work. But he admired you, Shane. Maybe if you—”
“I can’t go to East Tennessee to browbeat Kyle right now.” He spoke gently, but firmly, his tanned face set into implacable lines that made him look very much like their father. “Dad and Cassie are leaving Friday for that cruise, and they’ll be gone for three weeks. I’ve got more than I can handle here.”
She sighed and nodded reluctantly. Shane would be extremely busy with Jared and Cassie gone for that long. It had been hard enough to talk Jared into taking his first long vacation with his wife. Only the knowledge that Shane would be here to keep the ranch running had made him finally agree.
“Send Kyle a letter, Molly.” Shane squeezed her shoulder. “Tell him how much it would mean to you— and to Mom and Dad. But if he still chooses not to come, you’re going to have to accept his decision. Don’t let it ruin your pleasure in the party. You’ve already done so much. Dad and Cassie are going to be so surprised, and so pleased to see everyone you’ve found all together.”
Molly wished she could be content with what she had accomplished in the past few months. But she couldn’t get past the feeling that something was still unfinished. Something she was obviously going to have to handle personally—though she knew better than to express that sentiment to her overprotective and notoriously bossy older brother.
Chapter One
“Sixteen…ow…seventeen…damn it…eighteen…hell.”
The weights clattered against the concrete floor when Kyle Reeves dropped his legs and let the bar fall. He had increased the resistance today and the pain was too intense to go any further. The result was that he was now in a very bad mood—not that there was anything new about that. This particular bad mood had lasted eight months, three weeks and four days—give or take a couple of hours.
A clap of thunder rattled the windows, followed by another ominous rumbling that seemed to echo his disposition. Rain had started to fall, not very heavily yet, but steadily. It was supposed to storm this evening, and storms were always dramatic in the mountains. He rather enjoyed them.
Pushing himself off the weight bench, he limped across the stark, white-walled room and stepped into a short hallway with oak plank floors and unadorned walls, also painted white. His cabin in the Tennessee Smoky Mountains wasn’t large—two bedrooms, one of which served as his exercise room, one bath, a small living room and an eat-in kitchen. The furnishings were minimal, the decor Spartan, luxuries nonexistent.
The place needed some work—a few boards on the front porch had rotted, and cold air poured through numerous cracks around doors and windows—but the roof didn’t leak, and the view from the redwood deck attached to the back of the house was spectacular. And best of all, as far as Kyle was concerned, there were no neighbors within sight.
Reaching the kitchen, he picked up a bottle of prescription pain pills, glanced at it, then tossed it back onto the butcher-block countertop. He shook two ibuprofen into his palm instead, popped them into his mouth and washed them down with a few swallows of bottled water.
He pushed a hand through his sweaty brown hair, leaving it standing in spikes. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the shiny door of the refrigerator when he put away the water. In addition to his messy hair, he had a four-day beard growth, which didn’t quite conceal the scar that ran down his left jawline. His sweat-stained gray T-shirt was paired with black knit shorts that bagged on his too-thin frame. No socks, but he wore a good pair of athletic shoes because he needed the support. He looked like hell—but since there was no one around to see him, he didn’t really care.
As if in response to that thought, someone knocked on his front door.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He was hardly expecting company, and he doubted that his only real friend in the area, Mack McDooley, would have ventured up the mountain in an approaching storm on this Thursday afternoon. He was even more surprised that he hadn’t heard a car engine, but he blamed that on the noise of the worsening weather.
The knocking came again. Sighing heavily, he limped into the living room and jerked open the door without bothering to see who was on the other side. “What?”
He’d have been hard-pressed to guess who looked more surprised at that moment. His visitor, in response to his curt greeting, or himself, at his first sight of the woman on his doorstep.
Even in the deepening darkness of the rainy afternoon, he could tell that she was stunning. Masses of red hair, dotted with moisture, tumbled past her shoulders to the middle of her back. Dark lashes surrounded large green eyes emphasized by smudgy eyeliner. Her perfect nose was decorated with a smattering of golden freckles, and her mouth was full and glossy. She was of average height, with a slender figure packaged in a snug green pullover and dark jeans that made her legs look a mile long.
He couldn’t imagine what a woman like this was doing on his doorstep. “Are you lost?”
She eyed him speculatively before responding, and he had the uncomfortable suspicion that she didn’t miss one detail of his grubby appearance. Not that he cared, of course. She would be on her way as soon as he gave her directions to wherever she was supposed to be.
But she shook her head, causing gold highlights to glimmer in her hair. “I’m not lost—at least, I don’t think I am. I mean…are you Kyle Reeves?”
Hearing his name spoken in a distinctly Texan accent drew his frown even deeper. “Look, I’ve tried to be polite with you people, but you’re carrying it too far. Tell Shane and Molly that it was nice of them to think of me, but I won’t be attending their reunion thing. Make it clear this time that I won’t be changing my mind—and I don’t want to have to repeat the message again.”
Though he’d spoken tersely, he could have been a lot less polite about it—and he was fully prepared to be, if she started getting pushy, regardless of her killer eyes and delectable mouth. It was only his lingering fondness for the Walker family and his reluctance to hurt little Molly’s feelings that kept his temper in check—though he couldn’t guarantee he could control it much longer.
Enough was enough.
Planting her hands on her hips, the woman cocked her head to study him more closely. Something about that gesture looked vaguely familiar to him, but before he could pin it down, she spoke again. “Do you mind if I come in for a few minutes? I didn’t expect it to be so chilly here, and to be honest, I’m sort of cold.”
Her three-quarter-sleeve shirt and jeans would probably have been plenty warm enough back in Dallas in early October, but on a rainy day at this altitude, a light jacket would have been appropriate. Still… “You don’t need to come in. Go back to Texas where it’s warm, and give Shane and Molly my regrets. It’s that simple.”
Lightning lit the purple sky behind her, flashing behind the distant mountains and making her damp hair seem to come alive for just a moment. And then the sky dimmed, leaving her in shadows again. “All I want is five minutes of your time. Surely you can spare that much, Mr. Reeves.”
If he were really as hard-hearted as he was trying to be, he wouldn’t be in the least affected by the slight tremor in her voice. He didn’t know whether it was caused by cold or nerves, but it got to him. He wavered a few moments more, then mentally cursed himself for being a fool and stepped out of the doorway.
“You’ve got five minutes. Say your piece, but you might as well know I won’t be changing my mind. At the end of your spiel, I’ll expect you to leave and make sure that no one else bothers me about this.”
“Thank you.”
He noticed her taking in every detail of his living room, which was neat, if a bit dusty, and equipped with only the most basic of furniture, other than his treasured big-screen TV. A big fireplace dominated one wall, but he hadn’t started any fires yet this season, so it was dark and empty behind the functional black screen.
The place probably looked stark and primitive to this hothouse flower. Good. Maybe she wouldn’t be tempted to stay beyond her allotted time.
Though he didn’t invite her to sit, she settled onto the battered, secondhand, brown leather couch, anyway. Much too conscious of her gaze on him, he made an effort to control his limp as he moved to the nearest of two brown-and-tan plaid recliners and sank into it.
“Let me save you a little time. You want to extend an invitation for me to attend a surprise anniversary party for Jared and Cassie Walker next week. All their former foster boys are invited. Shane and Molly are putting the whole thing together and little Molly will be very disappointed if I don’t make an appearance. Has that pretty well summed up what you were planning to say?”
She laid one arm across the back of the couch, looking as comfortable as if she were a regular visitor to his home. “You’ve stated it pretty well.”
“I’ve heard the pitch a couple of times before.”
“I know.”
“Molly and Shane are persistent, I’ll give them that. I’ve never been so aggressively ’invited’ to a party before.” “You were special to the family, and they’ve missed you. It would mean a great deal to them for you to be there.”
“The Walkers have had a whole string of foster boys at the ranch. They won’t miss one at their reunion.”
“Everyone will have a good time even if you don’t come,” she conceded. “But it will be even better if you’re there.”
“I’m sorry, that isn’t possible.”
She studied his face a moment, then sighed lightly. “Then you’re right. We should leave you alone.” Finally. He nodded curtly. “I appreciate it.”
“Is there a message you would like to send to the family—other than to leave you alone?”
He found himself looking at her mouth. If she was particularly chagrined that she hadn’t coaxed a commitment out of him, she wasn’t letting it show. Her luscious lips curved into a slight smile as she gazed at him through those thick, dark lashes. A jolt of awareness shot through him, reminding him of the first moment when he had seen her and had been body-slammed by unexpected attraction.
He mentally shook his head and tried to concentrate on something other than how much time had passed since he’d been with a woman. “A message? I guess you can tell them happy anniversary for me. And you can tell Molly I’m sorry she went to so much trouble on my behalf.”
One slender eyebrow arched in question. Her smile widened. “Why don’t you tell her yourself?”
“I don’t—” He eyed her expression. “Oh hell. Surely you’re not—”
“You never asked my name,” she reminded him. “Have I really changed so much?”
He felt himself sink more deeply into his chair. An uncharacteristic warmth flowed up his neck and onto his face. Kyle wasn’t often embarrassed—and he was even more rarely taken completely by surprise—but she had just accomplished both. “You’re Molly?”
She ran her fingers through her curtain of hair, never taking her gaze off him. “I believe you called me ’little Molly’ earlier. Did you think time had stopped since you left the ranch almost a dozen years ago, Kyle?”
“How old are you?”
She seemed more amused than offended by the ques tion. “I’ll be twenty-four in a few weeks.”
Twenty-four. He shook his head slowly in disbelief. Maybe he had thought time had stopped. On the rare occasion when he had pictured Molly, he’d remembered a freckle-faced carrottop with gaps in her teeth and dirt on her face. She had been a bundle of energy, chattering a mile a minute, tagging at her father’s heels whenever he would let her—which was often, since Jared had been able to deny little to his only daughter.
Having no experience with gregarious little girls, Kyle had been rather intimidated by her then. He willingly admitted that she terrified him now. Talk about trouble in a nicely wrapped package….
“You’re twenty-nine,” she murmured. “You were almost seventeen when you came to us. You stayed a couple of months after your eighteenth birthday to finish high school, and then you left for boot camp. I was twelve when you went away. I was heartbroken, you know. It always broke my heart when anyone left us.”
“I remember you cried your eyes out when the kid before me left not long after I got there. His name was Daniel, wasn’t it?”
“Daniel Castillo—though he uses the last name Andreas now.” Her smile turned radiant. “He’s back in the family now. He recently married my cousin B.J.”
“No kidding.” He tried to focus on the conversation rather than the way her smile pushed tiny dimples into the corner of her mouth. “I remember her. Her name was Brittany, but she wanted everyone to use her initials, instead.”
“Everyone pretty much does now—except her mother, who still insists on calling her Brittany.”
“So she married Daniel.”
Molly nodded. “It was a whirlwind courtship, and I think it’s fantastic. They’re perfect together—they always were, even when they were teenagers.”
Kyle suddenly scowled, wondering what the hell he was doing sitting here listening to family gossip from Molly Walker—no longer “little” Molly Walker. If they kept this up, he would find himself all duded up for a silver anniversary party he’d had no intention of attending.
He shifted in his chair, and pain shot through his left leg and up into his back. The feeling was so familiar, he was able to hide his reactions from Molly—or at least, he thought he had, though her sharp green eyes had suddenly narrowed speculatively.
“Your five minutes are over,” he reminded her, his bad mood returning with a vengeance.
Molly thought she had done a pretty credible job of hiding her shock at Kyle’s appearance. She couldn’t help comparing the man in front of her to the photograph that sat in a place of honor in her parents’ living room, along with photos of the other foster sons Jared and Cassie had nurtured during their marriage.
Kyle’s portrait had been taken at his high school graduation. Wearing a black cap and gown, a gold tassel dangling at one side of his tanned face, he had looked young and healthy. His thick brown hair had been freshly cut, and his amber-brown eyes gleamed with satisfaction. During her teen years, even as her memories of Kyle faded, Molly had found herself studying that photograph occasionally, wondering about Kyle, thinking that of all the nice-looking boys who had passed through her family home, his face had intrigued her the most.
Had she not known who he was when he had opened his door to her this afternoon, she might never have recognized him as the same person in the photograph. He was almost painfully thin, and he walked with a pronounced limp. The tan had been replaced by a rather scruffy pallor. His day-old beard did little to conceal the uneven scar that now marred his left cheek along the jawline. His hair was disheveled, and needed a good shampooing and styling.
For just a few moments he had seemed to relax a little with her, and she’d hoped that he was becoming more open to the possibility of attending the party. But then she had seen him flinch, as if in pain, and his expression had abruptly closed.
“I had hoped you would extend that five-minute deadline a bit once you figured out who I am,” she admitted with a wry smile.
He didn’t smile back at her. “I’m not trying to be rude, but you really should go before—”
A shatteringly loud clap of thunder drowned out his words, followed by a deluge of rain that hammered on the roof and rattled the windows.
“—before the storm gets worse,” Kyle finished with a sigh.
Molly stood and walked to the window, rather surprised by the violence of the downpour. “Wow. It’s a real gully-washer out there, isn’t it?”
“To say the least. This is what remains of the tropical storm that hit the coast of South Carolina a couple of days ago. Haven’t you been listening to the weather forecasts?”
She turned away from the window. “Actually, no. The radio is broken in my car, so I listened to CDs during the drive.”
Though she wouldn’t have thought it possible, his frown deepened. “You didn’t drive here from Dallas?”
“Well—yes, I did,” she admitted. “It’s about a sixteen-hour drive, so I left at noon yesterday, spent the night in Memphis, then started out again this morning.”
“Alone?”
She shrugged. “It was a pleasant drive. The weather’s been nice, at least until I reached Gatlinburg, and I don’t often have a chance to spend time by myself just to think and listen to my favorite music. And the scenery in this area is breathtaking.”
“I can’t believe your parents allowed you to make a drive like that by yourself.”
Now it was her turn to frown. “First, I’m almost twenty-four years old, and I no longer have to ask my parents’ permission to leave home for a few days. Second, I wouldn’t have asked them, anyway, because I’m planning a surprise party for them and I don’t want them to know I’m here. And finally, they left almost two weeks ago for a three-week Mediterranean cruise to celebrate their anniversary.”
“Your brother didn’t have a problem with you coming here?”
She cleared her throat, resisting an impulse to shuffle her feet like a kid caught in a fib. “I don’t have to answer to Shane, either—but he thinks I’m spending a few days shopping in Houston with a friend from college.”
“So he wouldn’t approve.”
“He didn’t want me to pester you about coming to the party after you’d already declined a couple of times. And, no, he probably wouldn’t like the idea of me driving so far by myself—but Shane tends to be overprotective.”
“He always was when it came to you—and he didn’t hold a candle to your father. I have a feeling Jared would pop a vein if he knew what you’ve done.”
Molly was getting seriously defensive now. She had been trying for the past few years to convince her family that she was no longer a little girl to be indulged and watched over, but a competent young woman who could make her own decisions. She certainly hadn’t expected to have that same battle with Kyle Reeves.
“I’ll worry about my family’s reactions,” she informed him a bit curtly. “Obviously, I thought it was worth the effort for the chance to talk to you about the party.”
“I’m sorry you wasted the trip. If you had accepted the answer I sent back by way of your representatives, you would have saved yourself a lot of trouble.”
“I don’t take no for an answer very easily.”
His mouth quirked in what might have been the merest hint of a smile, though there seemed to be little humor in it. “From what I remember, you never did.”
She waited through another rumble of thunder, which seemed to echo her annoyance that he still thought of her as the little girl he had known more than eleven years ago. “My parents were very fond of you, Kyle. Your senior picture still sits in the living room, and Mom mentions you every so often with such wistfulness in her voice. It would mean a lot to them if you would come to their party.”
“I’m really just not a party kind of guy.”
She didn’t doubt that, especially now that she had seen the isolated cabin where he lived without even a telephone to connect him to the outside world. “I can understand that you might not like large groups of people—even though this will be a casual, no-pressure party where everyone will be welcome and should be comfortable. I think you might even have a good time there, if you would let yourself. But if you can’t make it to the party, at least think about coming to visit Mom and Dad sometime, will you? It’s important to them to know that their boys turned out all right.”
An odd expression briefly crossed his face, as if it had startled him to be referred to as one of “their boys.” He masked it swiftly as he stood and crossed to the window to look out at the worsening storm. She thought he walked with extra care, perhaps trying to control his limp.
For several long minutes, neither of them spoke, so that the storm seemed even louder inside the quiet room. It was obvious that she hadn’t gotten through to Kyle at all; he had made it clear that he wanted to be left alone to brood about whatever had happened to him. She was beginning to feel guilty for having come at all, invading the privacy he seemed to value so greatly, ignoring the messages he had already sent.
She could almost hear her brother saying, “I told you so.” She was sure she would hear those words as soon as she returned to the ranch and told him what she had done. “Maybe I’d better be going. It doesn’t look as though the rain is going to let up anytime soon.”
“I’m afraid you can’t leave just yet.” He looked glum as he made the announcement in a resigned voice. “You don’t know how dangerous these roads can be in storms like this. Rain falling this hard and this heavily overfills the creeks that run next to the roads, causing them to wash over the pavement. The rushing water can sweep you right off the mountain if you don’t know what you’re doing—or even if you do, in some cases.”
Molly looked at the window again, which was being pounded by windswept rain so hard it looked as if it were falling horizontally. She couldn’t even see her car now. “Do you think it will last long?”
His silence was an answer in itself. She bit her lip and wondered how long she was going to be stuck here with a man who wished she were anywhere else.
Chapter Two
Resisting an impulse to curse, Kyle pushed away from the window. “I’ve been working out and I’m sweaty. I’ll take a shower and then we’ll decide what to do.”
He didn’t give Molly a chance to respond. Making an effort to control his limp, he crossed the room toward the hallway. Maybe he’d feel more in control of this situation once he had showered and taken a few minutes to recover from the surprise of finding little Molly Walker all grown up on his doorstep.
It was just his luck that she had arrived right in the middle of a storm. As much as he wished he could send her on her way, he couldn’t allow her to head out in this weather. The steep, winding roads around here were tricky enough, but the risk of flash flooding was very real under these circumstances. He wished she hadn’t come, but since she had, it looked as though he was going to have to play reluctant host for a few hours.
At least, he hoped that was all it would take until the roads were safe again. Unfortunately, it was late afternoon, and wet asphalt in the dark wouldn’t exactly be ideal traveling conditions, either.
Though he was well aware that he was procrastinating, he took his time showering, shaving and dressing in a clean gray T-shirt and comfortably faded jeans. He even ran a comb through his wet hair—not because it mattered particularly how he looked, he assured himself. But being caught off guard had put him at a disadvantage earlier, and he wanted to regain the upper hand in this situation as quickly as possible.
Finally reassured that he looked presentable, he headed back down the hallway. He was having little success controlling his limp now. He had probably overdone the workout that afternoon. Had Molly not been here, he might have pulled out his cane for the rest of the evening, just to give the leg a rest. Needless to say, her presence meant that wasn’t going to happen.
Molly wasn’t in the living room. Since he knew she wasn’t in the back of the cabin, that left only the kitchen. But the kitchen, too, was unoccupied and he felt his stomach tighten with nerves. If she had tried to leave, driving down the mountain in this storm…
The back door was ajar. Muttering a curse, he moved toward it, jerked it open and stepped outside. Protected from the downpour by the overhang that shaded half the deck, Molly stood with her arms crossed, watching the rain sweeping over the cloud-draped mountains. Dark, heavy clouds hid the afternoon sun, turning the landscape into a gray, impressionist scene that seemed to fascinate her.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said, though he hadn’t realized until then that she’d heard him step out beside her.
He was tempted to agree with her. But because he was all too aware that he wouldn’t have been talking about the scenery, he scowled and motioned toward the door. “Go back inside. You’re so cold your lips are blue.”
He wasn’t exaggerating much. He could see the goose bumps on her arms, and the tip of her nose was pinkened by the damp, chilly air.
She gave him a look that told him she didn’t like being given orders now anymore than she had when she was a spunky kid. “I’m fine.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Maybe she felt as though she had made her point. Molly was only a few steps behind him when he walked into the kitchen. Kyle set the teakettle on a burner and pulled two mugs out of a cabinet. “I don’t drink caffeine, but I have several blends of herbal tea,” he said, waving a hand toward the assortment of boxes arranged for easy access. “Pick what you like.”
He tossed an orange spice tea bag into a mug for himself, then stood aside so Molly could make her own selection. She debated for what he considered to be an absurdly long time over the six selections available to her before finally choosing cinnamon apple. By that time, the kettle was whistling.
Kyle carried his steaming mug into the living room, leaving Molly to follow if she wanted. She did—and her next comment indicated she had been watching him more closely than he liked.
“What happened to you, Kyle? How were you injured?”
“A close encounter with a bomb in the Middle East,” he answered shortly. “I don’t like to talk about it.”
“How long has it been?”
“Eight months.” And three weeks, and four days. And counting.
“I’m sorry,” she offered quietly.
He shrugged with practiced nonchalance. “Don’t be. I was luckier than the three guys who were with me and didn’t make it back.”
It had taken him a while to come to that conclusion, and there were still days when he wondered if his friends had been the lucky ones. He had learned very soon after the attack to hide those feelings, which always drew far too much attention from the military shrinks.
“Is that why you don’t want to come to the party? Because you were hurt?”
“No.”
She seemed completely undaunted by his curt tone.
“Because if you’re worried that anyone there will think less of you or pity you or anything like that, that would just be silly.”
Kyle set his mug down with a thump and glowered at his uninvited guest. “Either you like living dangerously, or you’re totally oblivious when it comes to taking hints.”
Molly sighed and spread her free hand, cradling her tea mug in the other. “It’s the latter, I’m afraid. Shane always says it takes a two-by-four upside the head for me to recognize a hint. He jokes, of course, but he’s not exaggerating by much.”
“Then let me put it in short, simple words you’ll be sure to understand—I don’t want to talk about this.”
Molly blinked at him for a moment, then absolutely floored him by smiling broadly. “You sounded just like Daddy when he’s in one of his grumpy moods. Maybe he rubbed off on you more than you realize.”
Kyle was rendered almost speechless by that artless observation. Grown men had been known to pale when he had spoken to them the way he’d just snarled at Molly. And she just grinned and compared him to her daddy?
He wondered grimly how much longer it would be before the rain stopped and he could send her safely on her way.
The visit with Kyle was not going as well as Molly had hoped. She supposed she had been rather arrogant in thinking she could charm him into changing his mind about attending her party. She had thought a little friendly reminiscing, accompanied by a couple of soulful looks and maybe a few winsome smiles would accomplish exactly what she wanted.
That sort of thing always worked for Shane, she thought with a slight pout.
Amazingly enough, she didn’t think even Shane could get through to Kyle at this point. It was a shame, too. Molly suspected that Kyle was a lonely, unhappy man who was just too stubborn to admit he needed anyone else.
She glanced at her watch. It was just before 6:00 p.m. and still raining heavily. Deepening shadows blurred the corners of the room now as dark gray clouds obscured the skies outside. Kyle reached out to turn on a lamp on a table between the two recliners. “Are you hungry?”
She was, actually. She had stopped for a light lunch and a stretch break at just before noon, and she hadn’t had anything since. “I’m a little hungry.”
He put his hands on the arms of his chair and pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll see what I’ve got.”
Maybe this was his way of apologizing for snapping at her—not that an apology was necessary, since she was the one who’d tried to push him into talking about something that he’d already said made him uncomfortable. “There’s no need to go to any trouble on my behalf.”
He shrugged and kept walking. “I’m hungry. I’m going to eat, anyway—you might as well have something, too.”
It was hardly a gracious invitation, but considering she had arrived unannounced and uninvited on his doorstep, she considered herself fortunate that he was being even somewhat tolerant of her presence. She followed him into the kitchen. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
He opened the refrigerator door. “I can handle it.”
“I’m restless, Kyle. I’d like something useful to do to take my mind off the weather.”
He sighed gustily and tossed something onto the counter with a thump. “You can clean the lettuce and chop tomatoes and cucumbers for a salad. I’ve got a package of pasta and a jar of pesto sauce we can have with it.”
“That sounds good.”
With one of his characteristic shrugs, he said, “I eat a lot of prepackaged stuff. I’m not much of a cook.”
“Neither am I.” She stuck the lettuce under running water to wash it. “I’m sure you remember how Mom is about her kitchen. She loves to cook, and doesn’t like anyone underfoot when she’s busy. Since I was always happier outside with Dad and Shane anyway, I never did much cooking. A few years ago, Mom decided belatedly that I should learn how. Maybe she waited too late, but it was not a raving success. After eating a few of my meals, Dad and Shane begged me to go back out to the barns.”
She was babbling—but then Shane had always accused her of seeing silence as a vacuum begging to be filled.
Kyle didn’t chuckle in response to her story, nor did he pause in his dinner preparations. For a moment she wondered if he had been listening to her at all, but then he spoke. “Do you still live with your parents?”
Something about the way he asked annoyed her. She had told him she was almost twenty-four. Did he think she had accomplished nothing for herself since he’d left? Oh, right—he still thought of her as “little Molly.”
“I live on the ranch at the moment. I moved back full-time after I obtained my master’s degree in education last spring at Rice University in Houston. I’ve been tutoring the foster boys we’re housing now to bring them up to grade level while I wait for a full-time teaching position to open up in the local schools. I’ve been told a position should become available in January, and if it does, I’ll look for an apartment then.”
Again, she had given him way more information than he’d asked for. Maybe she was just the tiniest bit defensive about being unemployed and still living at home at almost twenty-four. She could easily have found a teaching job in the Dallas metroplex, probably, but the small school district closer to the ranch tended to have less turnover.
Her father had talked her into coming back to the ranch, rather than moving more than an hour away to live in Dallas. He had told her he needed her assistance now that he’d begun to take in more foster boys, turning the small ranching operation into a full-time group home for at-risk teenage boys. The truth was, Jared would be perfectly happy to have her live at home indefinitely.
“Shane still lives on the ranch, too,” she added when Kyle didn’t comment. “He added on to his house when he and Kelly had their two girls. Now he handles most of the livestock and general maintenance chores so Dad can concentrate on the day-to-day business aspects of running a group home.”
“How many boys are in residence there now?”
She was pleased that he had asked a question. Surely that meant she’d piqued his interest, right? “There are four now, but we’re approved to accept up to six. It isn’t officially a therapeutic foster home, since we don’t take boys with serious emotional or behavioral problems, just the ones who don’t seem to fit in anywhere else. I know when you were there we could only take one or two at a time, but we’ve made some changes. One of the barns has been converted into a dormitory, complete with a dining room and a study area with computers for homework. That’s where I spend most of my time with the boys.”
“Still no girls?”
“No. They’ve decided to focus solely on boys, since having girls there would open up a whole new set of challenges.”
He grunted, and she assumed that was an assent.
“So Shane has kids of his own now, huh?” he asked after working a few more minutes in silence.
“Two girls. Annie and Lucy. They’ve taken my place as the little girls all the boys become big brothers to.”
Fifteen years older than Molly, Shane had been a grown man when Kyle lived on the ranch. Shane had already built his house on the property and had been busy with his own life and friends—among them, Kelly Morrison, whom he had married not long after Kyle left.
“The girls have Shane—and Daddy—wrapped around their little fingers,” she added with a chuckle.
“That doesn’t surprise me. So did you.”
“I know.” She smiled unrepentantly. “I was shamelessly spoiled—and now Shane’s girls are being treated the same way. It’s a good thing Kelly is more like my mom when it comes to being the disciplinarian, or Annie and Lucy would be little brats.”
Kyle poured the strained, hot pasta into a bowl. “I saw your dad lay down the law to you a few times.”
“Let’s just say I knew exactly how much I could get away with before he drew the line. He got a bit more strict with me as I got older.”
“I’ll bet.”
Had that been a note of amusement in his voice? Encouraged, she carried the salad to the round oak table that sat at one end of the narrow kitchen. “It’s funny, but when it comes to the foster boys, Dad’s the disciplinarian and Mom’s the one who spoils them.”
“I remember that, too.”
“He knows so well what it was like to be an angry teenager, separated from his family and shuffled from one foster home to another. He knows what it takes to get through that anger and give the boys hope for their futures. His record of success has been amazing.”
Kyle had the table set now with plain, mismatched dishes and sturdy flatware. Without asking, he filled two glass tumblers with ice and water, setting them on the table along with the bowl of pasta and a plate of bread.
The rain was still falling heavily outside, and for some reason the sound of it hitting the windows made their simple dinner seem more intimate. Falling back on her usual habit, Molly started talking again to ward off any awkward silence.
“I’ve never been to this part of the country before. It’s really beautiful. How did you happen to end up here?”
Concentrating on his dinner, he shrugged. “I visited the area with a buddy and I liked it. When I had to choose a place to live after I got out of the Marines, I decided to come here.”
“I like your house.”
“It’s small,” he said. “Needs some repairs. A little isolated for some people’s tastes. But it was affordable and it suited me.”
“I think it’s great,” she assured him, entirely sincere. “The view alone is priceless. As for the location, it’s not so very far from Gatlinburg.”
He glanced at the window and the storm that raged outside. “Sometimes it seems farther than at other times.”
Like now, for example, his tone implied. With the storms making the roads so hazardous, the closest town might as well be hours away.
After they’d cleared away the dishes, Kyle looked at the window again. “It looks to me as though you have two choices. I can try to drive you back down the mountain, or you can spend the night here and leave in the morning.”
She crossed her arms and frowned at him. “You neglected to mention the third choice. I can drive myself down the mountain.”
“Not an option.”
“Why not? If it’s safe for you to drive…”
“I didn’t say it was safe. It would be a reckless and foolhardy drive with me at the wheel—and I know this mountain like the back of my hand. You’d never make it down. The best solution is for you to stay here tonight—but if that’s unacceptable to you, I’ll drive you.”
“Why would it be unacceptable to me?”
He looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t blame you if you have reservations about spending the night in a house with someone you barely know….”
She couldn’t help laughing, though she doubted he would share her amusement. “Give me a break. I’m not worried about being here with you.”
His sigh seemed to hold sheer exasperation. “Do you have no sense of self-preservation? You set off on a crazy, solo drive halfway across the country without telling anyone, then have no qualms at all about spending the night with a total stranger in an isolated house on a mountainside?”
“Kyle, you are not a total stranger. You were a member of my family for more than a year.”
“I was never a member of your family. I just lived there for a while when I had nowhere else to go.”
With that, he turned on one heel and stalked into the other room. Molly took a moment to admire how fluidly he moved, despite the limp—kind of a sexy, rolling gait that made her pulse rate increase before she shook her head and started after him. “So are you telling me I should be worried about staying here with you?”
“No, of course not,” he snapped impatiently, throwing himself into a chair. “You’re perfectly safe with me.”
“So, what’s your point?” She planted her hands on her hips to study him.
“The point is—hell, I can’t remember.” Slouching in the chair, he glared at his feet.
“Okay, then.” She dropped her arms. “Since I have no intention of risking either of our lives on the road, I might as well crash here until the storm’s over. I’ll take the couch.”
“Damn straight.”
She giggled, even though she knew he wasn’t joking. Funny how he could annoy her at one moment and amuse her at the next. Rather like Shane—except that she didn’t in any way think of Kyle as a brother.
“I have a computer in my bedroom,” he said, still looking grumpy. “You can send your brother an e-mail, if you want to.”
“That’s not necessary. He isn’t expecting to hear from me today.”
He shrugged. “Whatever you think best.”
Exactly what she liked to hear—that someone thought she knew what was best for her. “I’ll call him tomorrow morning, as soon as I have a cell phone signal.”
“Fine.” He glanced at a clock on the wall—the only thing he’d bothered to hang on the white-painted Sheet-rock. “I don’t know if you’re interested in football, but there’s a college game starting, and I was planning to watch.”
“Go ahead and watch your game. You don’t have to entertain me.”
“I didn’t intend to,” he replied, reaching for the remote to the big-screen TV in one corner of the room— the only luxury he had apparently treated himself to. A few minutes later, he was engrossed in the game, leav ing Molly to wonder if he was even aware that he still had company.
She wondered if his rudeness was his odd way of reassuring her that she really was safe from any unwanted advances from him. If so, she could have told him it wasn’t necessary. Maybe her libido had kicked into overdrive when she had watched him cross the room, but he seemed totally oblivious to her, other than as an inconvenience.
She stood and wandered toward the windows, debating whether she wanted to risk going out to her car for her bag. A painfully loud clap of thunder and a gust of wind-driven rain answered that question.
One corner of Kyle’s living room held a small bookcase, overflowing with paperbacks stacked two deep on the shelves. Since he was making so little effort to play the gracious host, she figured that relieved her of some of the rules of etiquette, as well.
Without asking, she knelt to scan through the titles. Thrillers, mysteries, science fiction, a little fantasy. No real surprises there, except for the sheer number of books. Living alone here as he did, so isolated in his mountain cabin, he probably turned to his books for company.
She plucked a promising-looking novel from the selection. “D’you mind if I read this while you watch your game?”
Without glancing at her, he gave a grunt that she assumed was an assent.
She curled up on one end of the couch and opened the book. She managed to read a page and a half during the next half hour. The writing was fine, the premise interesting—but when it came to holding her attention, the story could not compete with the reality of the man in the recliner a few feet away from her. He sat without moving, his full attention seemingly focused on the game playing on the screen, proving again that she wasn’t nearly as distracting to him as he was to her.
He fascinated her.
Granted, her memories of him were hazy. She had been so young when he left, and there had been several boys in her family since. He had been quiet even then, standing apart from group activities. So many of the boys had arrived rebellious and angry at the circumstances that had landed them in foster care, but Kyle had kept his emotions carefully locked away. From what Molly had been told, he’d been obedient and cooperative, though so obsessively guarded that it had taken Cassie and Jared several months to coax a genuine smile from him.
Molly remembered his smiles. Perhaps because they had been so rare, and because she had been so accustomed to winning over everyone she met, she had been thrilled the few times Kyle had actually smiled in her direction.
Whatever their challenges, Molly had considered each of the foster boys brothers. Even though she had known from the start that their stays would only be temporary, she had still grieved each time one of them moved on. Her parents had protected her from physical dangers during her childhood, but they hadn’t been able to prevent the heartaches that accompanied each departure. Instead, they had shared them—and then all of them had opened their home and hearts again to the next boy who needed them.
During the past year or so, she had realized that her childhood had set a pattern for the way she interacted with the men she’d met as an adult. She had never had a serious relationship. It seemed that anyone who initially expressed a special interest in her had ended up seeing her more as a kid sister or close pal.
Her girlfriends had accused her of manipulating the situations to ensure just that outcome. They had suggested that she was commitment-phobic, or had her standards set too high. Her response had been that she was too young to get tied down to one guy.
While that had been the truth, she suspected there had been more to her reluctance to give her heart completely to anyone. But for some reason, she had always shied away from examining her skittishness more closely.
Oddly enough, it had been easier for her to see those potential suitors as brother figures than it was to think of Kyle that way now, even though he’d once been a part of her family. She had thought of the others as nice boys. Kyle was a man battered by experience, a soldier hardened by battle. He was only a little more than five years her senior, but she was painfully aware of the vast differences between his life and her own decidedly sheltered existence.
Did he still see a little girl when he looked at her? Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be the only one who did.
Though he didn’t look at her, Kyle was all too aware of Molly’s eyes on him during the evening. He focused fiercely on the game, though he was unable to enjoy it as much as usual.
Why did she keep staring at him? He wasn’t doing anything entertaining. He certainly wasn’t that interesting to look at. Was she studying his scars, wondering how he’d gotten them? Was she comparing the man she saw now to the boy she remembered?
He could have told her she might as well stop looking for similarities. As far as he was concerned, that boy had died in a fiery blast in the Middle East.
When he could stand her scrutiny no longer, he gave a silent, mental curse and shoved himself to his feet. “I’m getting something to drink. You want any—”
Before he could complete the question, he stumbled, almost taking a nosedive straight down to the floor. His bum leg had locked up while he’d been sitting so self-consciously motionless, and now it refused to cooperate, punishing his too-sudden movement with a jawclenching wave of pain. He knew the spasm would subside if he stood perfectly still for a few minutes, then swallowed a couple of pain pills. He’d certainly had enough experience.
Soft hands clutched his arm. “Are you all right?”
He shook her off. “I’m fine. Just a cramp. What do you want to drink?”
“Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get us something?”
She could almost feel the embarrassment, frustration and anger seething in the look he gave her.
She took a hasty step backward, raising both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay. Fine. You go. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
It took every ounce of strength he had to force his feet to move and his legs to support him as he headed for the kitchen. Pain slammed through him with every step, but he kept his head high and his shoulders squared.
Life and war had left him with very little, but he still had his pride. It refused to allow him to show any further weakness in front of Molly Walker.
Chapter Three
It was all Molly could do not to rush to help Kyle into the kitchen. As the minutes crept by after he disappeared into the other room, the urge to check on him was almost overwhelming. Only the memory of the glare he had given her kept her in her chair.
He had looked hard and sort of aggressive, and she suspected most people would have been intimidated. Maybe a little annoyed that their instinctive offer of help had been so coldly rebuffed. Molly’s reaction had been just the opposite. Her heart had twisted in sympathy for him, an emotion she had known better than to let him see.
A lifetime of experience with angry and bitter young men had made her quite skilled at reading pain—physical and emotional. She had seen both when she looked into Kyle’s eyes.
A good fifteen minutes passed before he returned, carrying two cans of caffeine-free cola. Most of the color had returned to his face, she noted, but his eyes were still dark. Deep lines had settled in around the corners of his mouth, as though he held his facial muscles clenched.
She wondered what it was costing him just to keep moving. She would bet that if she wasn’t there, he would be flat on his back and moaning right now.
Her knowledge of the male ego kept her from voicing any of her concerns aloud. She thanked him for the soda, then pretended to read again while he walked with carefully measured steps to the recliner.
She let a few more minutes pass, and then she yawned delicately, but audibly. “Gosh, I’m getting tired. It was such a long trip here.”
After a pause, Kyle said almost offhandedly, “I’ll go back to my room so you can get some rest in here.”
She kept any hint of satisfaction out of her voice when she replied, “I don’t want you to miss your game.”
He shrugged. “It’s pretty one-sided, anyway.”
Pleased that she had come up with a way to send him to bed without a loss of pride—and making him think it was his idea in the process—she said, “Just don’t leave on my account. I can wait until you’re ready to turn in.”
He gave her a look that might have held a hint of suspicion, but she kept her expression as unrevealing as her voice. His shoulders seemed to relax when he nodded. “I’ll get you some sheets and a blanket. You can bunk down here on the couch, and I’ll read in my room until I’m ready to turn in.”
A very short time later, Molly lay on the couch listening to the rain that fell more gently against the roof now. With only a very brief “good-night,” Kyle had retired to his room. She hadn’t heard a sound from that direction since.
She hoped he had gone to bed—and that he had taken a pain pill or two while he’d been in the kitchen earlier. She knew he had some; she had seen the prescription bottles on his counter.
She supposed she would head back to Texas first thing tomorrow. If she left early, she might make the trip in one day. She would be worn-out when she got home, but satisfied that she had done absolutely everything she could to make sure her parents’ anniversary party was perfect. She wasn’t content with the results of her efforts, of course, since Kyle still refused to attend-but she had given it her best shot. That was all she could do.
Shane had accused her of being obsessed with Kyle Reeves during the past few weeks, so determined to convince him to attend the party that she couldn’t think straight. This impulsive trek to Kyle’s home probably proved her brother right about her mental condition. But now that she had made the trip and had a definitive answer, she should be able to put it behind her.
The funny thing was, now that she had actually spent time with Kyle, she seemed to be even more obsessed with him than she had been before.
Kyle’s first thought when he woke the next morning was that the pain had mercifully subsided to a more manageable—and all-too-familiar—dull ache. The sleep and medication had done their stuff, letting him get out of bed with a minimum of discomfort and grumbling.
It was only when he reached the closed bedroom door, which he usually left open at night, that he remembered he wasn’t alone in his house. Grinding out a curse, he turned back toward the dresser to pull out a pair of gray sweats. He doubted that Molly would appreciate the sight of him in his underwear first thing in the morning.
Grateful to find the bathroom empty, he showered, but didn’t bother with shaving. He had just shaved the afternoon before, and he saw no need to do so again.
Dried and dressed, he moved toward the kitchen. He found himself walking with much the same quiet caution he’d used in the military when he’d been braced for a surprise attack. Maybe he would find that observation amusing later. After Molly was on her way.
He stopped in the doorway of the living room. Molly was still asleep on the couch. Her long, red hair tumbled around her face and onto the pillow he had provided for her. She had kicked off her blanket, revealing the fact that she had slept in her clothes, removing only her shoes and socks.
It couldn’t have been comfortable spending the night in her shirt and jeans. He should have offered her something to change into—a big T-shirt or something. But the thought of Molly sleeping on his couch wearing nothing but one of his shirts made his entire body clench.
Maybe it was just as well that he hadn’t offered. He reminded himself of who she was, and the way she had looked the last time he’d seen her. But, damn, it was hard to visualize a little girl when Molly was lying on his couch all warm and flushed and curvy. Those full lips that could go so quickly from sexy pout to blinding smile were slightly parted in sleep, and he could imagine all too well how sweet they would taste.
She sighed and nestled into the sofa cushions, drawing one leg up into a more comfortable position. Which, of course, only made him imagine how comfortably those long legs would fit around him.
That jarring mental image made him stumble backward, a near panicky retreat. He must have made some sort of sound. Molly stirred and opened her eyes. She smiled when she saw him. “Good morning.”
Between the effects of her smile and the sleepy huskiness of her voice, it was all he could do to respond without stammering. “Morning,” he said curtly. “Sorry I woke you.”
With a rather feline stretch that drained the last of the moisture from his mouth, she swung her bare feet to the wood floor, then quickly lifted them again with a little yelp. “Cold floor,” she explained.
He scowled toward the front door. “The weather stripping is shot. I keep meaning to work on that.”
She had already retrieved the chunky clogs she’d worn the day before. Sliding her feet into them, she stood, tugging her shirt down over the waistband of her jeans. “You look as though you slept well.”
He was glad now that he’d taken the time to shower and comb his hair. He hadn’t liked showing any weakness in front of her the night before. “Not bad. You?”
“Surprisingly well,” she said cheerfully.
The rain had stopped during the night and sunlight streamed through the east-facing windows. Kyle figured she could safely be on her way at any time, since the water ran quickly down the mountain once the rains ended. Cheered by the awareness that he would soon have his house to himself again—and would be spared any more inappropriate fantasies about Molly Walker— he decided he might as well feed her before ushering her out.
“Want some breakfast?”
She nodded eagerly. “Sounds good. Just let me freshen up and I’ll help you prepare something.”
“I can handle it. Take your time. There are clean towels in the bathroom cabinet if you want a shower.”
Because just the passing thought of Molly in the shower was enough to make him sweat again, he turned toward the kitchen. He needed to busy his mind and his hands. Immediately.
Mesmerized by the beauty of the washed-clean mountain scenery around Kyle’s cabin, Molly was tempted to linger for a while outside when she retrieved her bag from her car. The air was chilly, but so fresh and clean it was almost intoxicating. Pearl-gray clouds hung low over the mountaintops, clearly demonstrating why they were called the Smoky Mountains. Rushing water tumbled over huge boulders in the creek that ran alongside the gravel road leading away from the cabin, and a full orchestra of birds performed in the treetops.
Forcing herself back inside, she showered and dressed quickly. As she checked her reflection in the steamy mirror over his bathroom sink, she mused that she could certainly understand why Kyle had chosen this place to hide himself away and heal.
She hadn’t brought many clothes with her on this hasty trip, but she was satisfied that the pumpkin colored, three-quarter-sleeve T-shirt and low-slung, boot-cut jeans flattered her. Not that she was trying to impress Kyle or anything, she assured herself as she fluffed her freshly washed and dried hair and checked her makeup.
By the time she joined him in the kitchen, he had breakfast already on the table. Her tummy rumbled in response to the scent of food filling the room. He was just setting out a container of orange juice when she walked in.
Something about the way he looked, standing there with the morning sunlight washing over him, his shaggy brown hair tumbling onto his forehead, his too-thin-but-all-male body encased in a gray sweatshirt and loose jeans, made her brain shut down. Before it kicked back into gear, she heard herself blurting, “No coffee?”
She answered herself as she belatedly remembered what he had said the night before. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t drink coffee.”
“No. But I can make you a cup of herbal tea, if you want.”
“Orange juice is fine.” She crossed the room and slid into the chair he indicated for her. “I’m not all that crazy about coffee, anyway. I just drink a cup in the mornings out of habit. Daddy, now, has to have his coffee—entirely too much of it. Mom finally talked him into switching to decaf after noon.”
She was babbling again. And as far as she could tell, Kyle hadn’t heard a word of it. He had already started eating his simple breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast.
Molly drew a deep breath to steady herself and reached for the condiments he’d set out. Her spirits rose when she saw the container of Cajun seasoning—a mixture of salt, black and red peppers and garlic.
She reached for it eagerly and sprinkled it over the fluffy scrambled eggs. “Obviously you learned a few things while you were on the ranch—like how to season eggs.”
“I learned a lot more than that.”
She would have liked to follow up on that mumbled response with a barrage of questions about exactly what lessons he had learned from her parents, and about the memories he had carried away with him, but she knew better. Kyle would volunteer what he wanted her to know and that, apparently, wasn’t much.
“Don’t push them,” her mother had once said when Molly asked how Cassie managed to connect with so many emotionally withdrawn young men. “You have to treat them like wild animals, in a way. Respect their fears and suspicions, knowing they’ve come from experience. Show them kindness and let them come to you in their own time.”
It had worked for Cassie, as she’d had amazing success with her foster sons. Yet Molly had heard that Cassie’s strategy had been a bit different when it had come to another wary, emotionally guarded male. According to Molly’s aunts, Cassie had gone after Jared with a relentless, single-minded determination, giving him no choice but to fall in love with her and make her his wife.
Molly studied Kyle across the table, free to do so because he was pointedly not looking at her. If—hypothetically, of course—a woman wanted to catch Kyle Reeves, which method would be more effective? The patient, wait-until-he-comes-to-you approach? Or the no-holds-barred pursuit?
“Eat your eggs before they get cold,” he muttered, letting her know he was aware of her scrutiny.
“I’m eating.” She forked another bite of spicy eggs into her mouth to prove her point, then swallowed them hastily so she could ask, “Just one more question?”
He sighed. “What?”
“Don’t you ever get lonely up here on your pretty mountaintop?”
“I’ve only lived here a little more than five months. Haven’t really had time to get lonely yet.”
“And when you do?”
He shrugged. “If I do—I’ll find some company. In the meantime, I’m considering what to do now that I’m out of the Marines earlier than I’d planned.”
It sounded as though he had planned to retire from the military. “Do you have any other ideas yet?”
“A couple.”
When it became clear that he wasn’t going to expand on that, she spoke again. “Do you plan to stay here in Tennessee or will you go back to Texas eventually?”
“There’s nothing for me in Texas,” he said bluntly. She tried to recall what she had been told about his past. She remembered that his mother had died when he was a teenager, and that he’d had no other family willing to take him in. She didn’t know anything about his father.
She thought he’d been assigned to a couple other foster homes before he’d come to the ranch. Cassie had said that Kyle was never a behavioral challenge, just so deeply withdrawn and introverted that his social worker had thought it would do him good to be placed with the easygoing and gregarious Walker family.
“When will you—”
“I thought you said there was just one more question,” he cut in before she could finish asking more about his plans for the future.
“Sorry. I’m just curious about you,” she admitted. He grabbed his breakfast dishes and stood, his chair rattling against the floor. “Trust me. I’m not that interesting.”
She didn’t believe that for a minute. But she knew when to back off—at least, for now—so she pushed the rest of her questions to the back of her mind and gathered her own plate and fork. “Please let me do the dishes. It’s the least I can do to repay you for your hospitality.”
He looked for a moment as though he was going to argue, but then he nodded shortly. “Fine. Just leave them in the drainer to dry. I’ll put them away later.”
He didn’t stay to keep her company while she worked. A few minutes later, she heard the television come on in the other room. It sounded as though he had tuned in a cable morning news program. She wouldn’t have thought he was the type to be interested in politics. Maybe he would just prefer to listen to the Senate majority leader than to deal with any more of her questions.
The kitchen was spotless when she had finished. She tossed a damp paper towel in the trash can beneath the sink, unable to find an excuse to delay any longer. She might as well be on her way. She had a long trip ahead of her today.
She had just walked into the living room where Kyle was settled into his usual chair when someone knocked on the front door. Trying to hide her curiosity, she perched on the couch while Kyle crossed the room to answer. A stocky, gray-haired man stood on the doorstep, holding a large cardboard box in his hands.
“Morning, Kyle.”
Kyle didn’t seem surprised by his caller’s identity. “Morning, Mack.”
“I told Jewel I was coming up to see if you rode out the storm okay, and she sent a couple of casseroles for you to put in your freezer.”
Kyle reached for the box. “Tell her thanks for me. She knows I’ll enjoy them.”
“Her cooking has put a couple of pounds back on you, but not near enough,” the older man observed, eying Kyle critically.
Molly frowned. Kyle had gained weight? Wow, how thin had he been before?
“Come in, Mack, while I set these in the kitchen.” Kyle stepped out of the doorway, and Molly wondered if she was correct in thinking he did so a bit reluctantly.
“I wouldn’t turn down a cup of that herbal tea you like so much. It’s right chilly this morning.” Mack had gotten all the way into the living room before he spotted Molly. “Well, hello.”
She stood, giving him a friendly smile. “Hi.” “Molly Walker—Mack McDooley.” Apparently considering the introduction complete, Kyle disappeared into the kitchen with the casseroles.
Looking in the direction in which Kyle had just disappeared, Mack chuckled wryly before turning back to Molly. “Kyle’s not much for conversation.”
Molly laughed softly. “No, he’s not.”
Waving her to the couch, Mack took the nearest recliner and crossed his right leg over his left knee, looking completely at home. He wore a gray plaid cotton shirt and neatly pressed jeans with black socks and brown suede shoes. His skin was weathered, and his eyes were as gray as his hair and brows.
Molly guessed his age to be early to midsixties— maybe a couple of years older than her own father. Also like Jared, this man looked as though he was no stranger to strenuous physical labor.
“So, have you known Kyle long?” Mack asked, using a jovially paternal tone probably meant to soften the blatant curiosity behind the question.
“Since I was a child, actually.”
“Really.” That had obviously taken him aback. “I didn’t think Kyle had any living family members.”
“Oh, we’re not family—exactly.” Because she wasn’t sure how much Kyle told anyone about his past, she wasn’t comfortable mentioning that he’d once been in foster care. “Just friends.”
“I see.” But he obviously did not.
Figuring one good question deserved another, Molly asked, “Are you Kyle’s neighbor?”
“Not exactly. I live in Gatlinburg with my wife, Jewel. She just about fretted herself silly last night worrying about Kyle up here alone in that storm. She was half convinced a tree fell on him during the night, crushing him in his sleep.”
“Jewel shouldn’t worry so much,” Kyle said, coming back into the room. “It isn’t good for her.”
Mack reached for the steaming cup of tea Kyle offered. “You know how she is. Especially when it comes to you.”
Though he hadn’t asked if she wanted one, Kyle had brought tea for Molly, too. He handed her the mug, then settled into his recliner. She noted that he hadn’t brought tea for himself, and that he sat rather stiffly, self-conscious in his role as host—a role she would bet he didn’t play very often.
She was almost squirming with curiosity now. She wouldn’t have expected Kyle to make friends like this in his relatively short time living in this area. As introverted and grumpy as he tended to be, she certainly wouldn’t expect him to be all-but-adopted by a local couple.
No, there was obviously more to this relationship than a recently instigated friendship. “Your wife sounds like my aunt Layla,” she said in what she hoped was a subtle attempt to learn more. “She’s the official worrier in our family—and it’s a very large family, so we keep her busy all the time.”
She was guiltily aware that Layla would have hysterics if she knew about Molly’s long, solitary drive to eastern Tennessee. Of course, Layla would have to stand in line behind Molly’s parents, brother and a couple dozen other relatives to yell at her for her reckless trek. And if her aunt Lindsey found out she had driven right through Little Rock without stopping to say hello— well, that didn’t bear thinking about just now. Suffice it to say that Lindsey would not be pleased.
“Yes, well, Jewel doesn’t have that many people to worry about anymore,” Mack said quietly, giving Kyle a look that spoke volumes, if only she knew how to read it. “Kyle, here, is one of them.”
Molly glanced at Kyle, who was looking increasingly uncomfortable. “I’m sure he appreciates her concern.”
Her comment made Mack’s somber expression lighten. “I’m sure he does. Maybe someday he’ll even admit it to himself.”
“Either of you ever hear that it’s rude to talk about someone as if he weren’t in the room?”
Both Mack and Molly smiled in response to Kyle’s grumbling—not to mention the faint flush of embarrassment on his cheeks.
Mack took pity on him. “I didn’t see any damage on the drive up. Still some water on the roads, but no travel problems.”
Obviously relieved by the change of topic, Kyle nodded. “Good to hear.”
“Did your roof leak?”
“No. The guy you recommended did a good job.” Mack grunted in satisfaction and sipped his tea. After a moment, he turned back to Molly. “I think I hear more than a hint of Texas in your voice?”
She chuckled. “Guilty. I grew up on a ranch outside of Dallas.”
Mack’s brows rose. “The ranch where you lived for a while, Kyle?”
Kyle nodded, and once again Molly had to struggle to hide her surprise. So Mack knew at least a little about Kyle’s past. Interesting.
“I came to invite Kyle to a party—a reunion, of sorts—at the ranch next week.”
Kyle shot Molly a look of reproval even as Mack said hastily, “Well, that sounds like fun. I’m sure you’ll enjoy—”
“I’m not going.”
Mack shook his head in disapproval. “Why not? It would do you good to get away for a few days, see your old friends. You’re getting around real well now, so—”
“I’ve already informed Molly that I am unable to attend,” Kyle cut in stiffly. His tone made it very clear that the subject was not open to further discussion.
“Well, that’s a shame,” Mack replied frankly. “I bet you’d have had a good time—if you’d let yourself.”
“How’s the renovation on the cottage coming along?” Kyle asked, very deliberately changing the subject again. “Made any headway since last week?”
“All the rain we’ve had the past few days hasn’t helped.” Mack seemed resigned to allowing Kyle to lead the conversation. “I’m hoping the guys can get back to work by midweek.”
He turned to Molly, making an effort to keep her involved in the conversation. “My wife and I own a motel in Gatlinburg and a few cabins in the mountains. We rent them to tourists in summer and during winter ski season.”
“Have you lived in this area a long time?”
“We both grew up in these parts. Bought the motel thirty years ago, and picked up a few rental properties along the way. Our son—well, he was going to take it all over eventually. He loved these mountains, especially in the winter.”
His use of the past tense twisted Molly’s heart. “Do you have any other children?” she asked softly.
“No. We just had the one son. We were both in our thirties when Tommy came along. To say he blessed our lives would be an understatement.”
He had adored his son. It was written in the sudden softness of his face, and the deep sorrow in his eyes. Molly bit her lip, unsure what to say since she knew so few details.
Mack seemed to mentally shake himself out of his bittersweet memories. He smiled toward Kyle. “It’s been real good for Jewel to have Kyle here to fuss over since we lost Tommy. Kyle was Tommy’s best friend in the Marines, almost like brothers. We came to think of Kyle as a member of the family when he’d come home to visit with our boy. We were sure glad he let us talk him into buying this little cabin and staying close by where we could keep an eye on him while he recuperates.”
Kyle cleared his throat—hard—and pushed himself to his feet again. “I just remembered that I have a couple of Jewel’s empty casserole dishes in the kitchen. Let me get them for you, and you can be on your way, Mack. I know you’ll have things to do now that the storm’s over.”
He limped into the kitchen without giving Mack a chance to respond.
Chapter Four
After Kyle’s abrupt escape, Mack gave Molly a quizzical look that made her giggle. “Guess Kyle’s ready for me to go. He’s not exactly subtle with his hints.”
Nodding her head in agreement, she thought ruefully that Kyle would be pushing her out the door as soon as he’d gotten rid of Mack.
Mack studied her with frank appraisal. “It’s a shame you couldn’t talk him into going to the party. He spends too much time up here by himself. Not that I want you to take him back to Texas permanently, of course,” he added. “I’m too selfish to want to give him up—for my sake, as well as for Jewel’s.”
“When did you lose your son?” she asked tentatively, wondering if she already knew.
He confirmed what she had guessed. “Almost nine months now. He was in the same explosion as Kyle. It was tough for all of us,” he said, lowering his voice, “but Kyle’s having a difficult time dealing with the guilt of surviving when Tommy didn’t make it. Jewel and I are doing our best to convince him that we don’t blame him, and that he shouldn’t blame himself, but…well, it’s been hard.”
Molly reached out impulsively across the distance between the sofa and the recliner to lay a hand on Mack’s arm. “I’m so very sorry.”
He blinked a couple of times, then cleared his throat, set his tea mug on the coffee table and reached into his shirt pocket. “Want to see a picture of my boy? I always carry it.”
“I’d love to see it.”
Even though it had been encased in plastic, the snap shot was battered from much handling. Molly’s throat tightened as she studied it.
Kyle looked so much younger in the photo, though it probably hadn’t been much more than a year since it had been taken. He was smiling self-consciously for the camera, but he looked happy. Healthy. He stood beside a grinning young man with windblown sandy hair and Mack’s kind gray eyes. The scenery spreading behind them was local, so they must have been on one of those visits home Mack had mentioned.
Her voice was husky when she returned the photograph. “He was a very handsome man. Like his father.”
“I like this young lady, Kyle,” Mack said, sliding the much-treasured photo back into his pocket. “A smart man wouldn’t let her get away too easily.”
Kyle scowled as he entered the room, holding two clean casserole dishes. “Tell Jewel I said thanks for the food, and that I’ll be down to see her in a few days. And thanks for coming by, Mack. It’s always good to see you.”
Mack stood and held out his hand to Molly, who had risen when he did. “It was real nice to meet you, Miss Molly. Maybe we’ll have a chance to visit again someday.”
She smiled at him, liking him immensely. “Maybe we will,” she said, though they both knew it was unlikely. She doubted that she would have any reason to visit Kyle again after she left today.
It made her sad to think she would never see him again—so she decided to be optimistic, instead. After all, there was still a chance—however slim—that he would change his mind about attending the party.
Kyle escorted his friend to the front door, stepping out to chat for a few more minutes on the front porch. Molly couldn’t hear what they were saying, nor did she try to listen in.
Meeting Mack had made her feel a little better about Kyle, in some ways. Kyle had seemed so alone before; she was glad to know he had someone nearby who cared about him. And whom he obviously cared about in return. Despite his gruffness, he hadn’t been able to completely hide his fondness for Mack McDooley.
She understood a little better now why Kyle was so grim. Not only had he been seriously injured and forced to leave his chosen career, but he’d lost his best friend at the same time. It was no wonder he was angry with life in general just now.
Yet he had chosen to settle near his friend’s parents, so he hadn’t been able to cut himself off entirely from other people. Obviously, it had been a beneficial arrangement for all of them.
“I like him,” she said when Kyle came back inside and the sound of Mack’s car engine faded into the distance.
“He’s a good man,” Kyle said simply. “And his wife really is a jewel.”
“You were close to their son.” It wasn’t a question, but her tone invited him to tell her about his friend if he wanted to.
Kyle picked up the mug Mack had left on the coffee table. “He was the closest I ever came to having a brother.”
She swallowed, a little surprised he’d opened up even that much to her. “I’m sorry you lost him.”
He was silent for a long moment, perhaps to make sure his voice was uninflected when he said, “So am I.”
Without looking at her again, he carried the mug into the kitchen.
Remembering the two smiling friends in the photograph, Molly didn’t try to follow him immediately. The sizable lump in her throat made it doubtful that she’d have been able to speak steadily just then, herself.
Kyle wasn’t in any hurry to return to the living room where Molly waited. Though he was usually able to hold his emotions tightly reined around other people, seeing her looking at that photograph of him and Tommy with such sadness on her face had triggered his own grief again. He’d been able to push it back down, but it had taken a massive effort. He needed a few minutes to make sure the emotional barriers were firmly back in place before he rejoined her.
Before he could decide whether enough time had passed, she came to him.
“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, standing in the doorway watching him too intently for comfort.
Though he was well aware she wasn’t talking about housework, he shook his head. “I’ve got everything cleared away in here. But thanks, anyway.”
She bit her lower lip, and he found himself aching to smooth the faint marks her teeth left. With his own lips. Which only went to show, he thought in disgust, that he wasn’t nearly as much in control of himself as he had hoped. Standing here wanting to kiss Molly Walker? Apparently he had temporarily lost his mind.
He had the odd sensation that the air was slowly escaping the room, leaving it hard for him to breathe. He tugged at the neckline of his gray sweatshirt. Glancing toward the windows, he cleared his throat. “Morning’s slipping away.”
She looked at her watch, then nodded slowly. “I suppose I should get on the road. It’s a long drive back to the ranch.”
“Too far for you to be making the trip by yourself,” he grumbled, genuinely concerned at the thought of her making that long drive alone. But what the hell was he supposed to do about it?
“I’ll be all right. I’ve got a car charger for my cell phone in case the battery goes dead, and a credit card for gas and expenses. My car’s in good shape, and the tires are brand-new. The only thing that doesn’t work is the radio, and I’ve got plenty of CDs.”
CDs and a credit card, and she thought she was prepared for anything. Hell.
“Call your brother as soon as you get a cell phone signal,” he ordered her. “Let him keep track of your progress this time.”
She nodded. “I will. Kyle—”
He braced for the question he knew was coming.
“Won’t you please reconsider coming to the party? It would only be for a few hours, and it would mean a lot to my parents. It would mean a lot to me, too,” she added softly, her eyes so dark with emotion they were almost emerald.
It was more difficult to say it each time, but he managed to get the words out. “No, Molly. I can’t.”
“You can’t stay up here brooding forever. Even Mack thinks it would be good for you to get away for a few days.”
Not for the first time, it occurred to him that she was either the most courageous or most foolhardy woman he’d ever met. Didn’t she know that wounded strays were likely to lash out at anyone who reached out to them? If she had cornered him like this only a couple of months earlier, she’d have been lucky to escape unscathed.
Fortunately, he’d recovered somewhat since then— both physically and emotionally—so he simply gave her a cool look and said, “I know best what’s good for me.”
Her lips twisted into a little smile that looked very sad. “I’m sure you believe that.”
She’d always had a tender heart. He remembered how easily she had cried as a child—rarely for herself, that he remembered, but usually when someone else had been hurt or upset. Now she’d apparently decided that he deserved her sympathy. He could almost feel his male ego shriveling in response to the pity he was afraid he saw in her eyes.
But, because she was Molly, he couldn’t be angry with her. Anyone else, maybe—but not her. “I’ll help you carry your bags, out,” he offered, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.
She seemed to give herself a little shake. “I only have one. I can handle it.”
He remained where he was when she turned to go collect her things. She would be on her way very shortly. And then his life could get back to normal. And he was not sitting up here “brooding,” he assured himself with a touch of defiance. He stayed busy. He worked out, he did repairs on the house, he read and researched possible paths for his future.
He had offers—Mack was urging him rather persistently to join him in the rental business, for example. Or he could go back to school on the military’s tab, studying anything that interested him.
Maybe he had gotten a raw deal, but he wasn’t brooding and he didn’t need her to rescue him. It was bad enough that Mack and Jewel fretted over him so much, a situation he tolerated only because he knew they needed to do so.
No, he had enough people in his life for now. Molly had plenty of others to cater to her—her parents, her brother and his family, all those aunts, uncles and cousins he remembered, the other foster boys who had probably all stayed close to the Walker family.
She probably had a boyfriend. A lover, he corrected himself, belatedly remembering her age. At least one, considering the way she looked. Hell, guys were probably lined up at her door.
It must have been a new experience for her to have to drive across two and a half states to practically beg a man to visit her.
Her green overnight bag was slung over her shoulder, and her car keys were in her hand. She was going. And the fact that his first instinct was to throw himself in front of the door to bar her way was proof that she wasn’t leaving too soon.
“You’ll be careful?” He tried to speak brusquely, but he wasn’t sure he was entirely successful.
“I’ll be careful.” She moistened her lips, then held out a hand to him. “I wrote down all the numbers at the ranch and my own cell number. Our e-mail address is on here, too. Maybe you could call or drop us a line sometime—just to let us know how you’re doing.”
“You sent me all that information when you invited me to the party the first time.” But he took the folded sheet of paper, anyway, since she had gone to the trouble of writing it all out for him.
“Just hang on to the list.” She smiled faintly. “Maybe you’ll decide you want to use it someday.”
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GINA WILKINS
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: NEVER TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWERThat had always been Molly Walker′s motto. So when Kyle Reeves refused to come to the Walker Ranch for a celebration, Molly set out to bring Kyle back one way or another….Bruised and battered, the last thing Kyle needed was a reminder from his past…especially from the redheaded beauty who landed on his doorstep. Kyle knew he wasn′t the man Molly remembered from long ago, nor could he give her what she deserved–love, family and a Texas home.But when faced with a woman who wouldn′t take no for an answer, would Kyle say yes to the passion and love he′d been searching for?