Chasing Hope

by Dana Wayne

  He hesitated a moment, then folded her in his arms and kissed the top of her head, pulling the goodness she radiated into his shattered soul. How long they stayed that way, he didn’t know. He only knew how right it felt to hold her in his arms. At long last, he whispered, “Maddie’s going to be worried.”

  She nodded against his chest. “Yeah. I should get home.”

  He ran his hands up her back, enjoying the feel of her body against his, terrified his past would destroy her. Them.

  She pushed back enough to look up at him. “It’s been a long time since I met someone I wanted to be with. Someone who didn’t mind a woman with a child.” She brought her hands around and rubbed them on his chest. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with us, but I want the chance to see if it can be as good as I think it will.” She stretched up and lightly kissed him again. “Good night, Max.”

  She picked up her things and walked out, Cade’s words echoing through his mind. You aren’t good enough. You never will be.

  Sky went through the motions of work, but her mind kept returning to last night’s events. The warm atmosphere in Max’s kitchen as she put things away while he and Maddie chatted just seemed…right.

  And then Cade ruined it. Even now, his presumptuousness spiked her temper.

  “Morning, Sky.”

  The greeting from the local doctor, Samantha Delaney, Sam or Doc to most folks, broke into her musings. “Morning, Doc. What can I get you?”

  “Just coffee for now. Waiting on Coop to join me for lunch.” She settled into a booth. “How’s Maddie? Any new issues with her breathing?”

  “No, she’s fine. The inhaler worked great, and she hasn’t had any other episodes. But we keep it handy just in case.” Asthma, another side effect of Maddie’s premature birth, had not been an issue in some time. Recent episodes of shortness of breath dictated action. Doc thought the colder-than-normal weather was the cause, and the inhaler she prescribed worked well thus far.

  “I know it’s difficult to keep her inside,” said Doc, “but when it’s this cold and damp, it’s probably best.”

  “Yeah, she’s not much for being cooped up.”

  Sam sipped her coffee. “I know this isn’t really the time or place to ask, but have you given any more thought to my proposition?”

  Once Sam discovered Sky was a registered nurse whose license was inactive, she offered to help her get reinstated. In return, Sky would work for her at the clinic. Sky understood there would be hoops to jump through, but Sam was confident they could make it happen.

  “I would love to get back into nursing, Doc. I really would.”

  “But?”

  “I don’t know what all will be involved or if I could even do it.”

  “I’ve taken the liberty of looking into the process. As for any cost involved, including any classes you may have to take, that’s on me till you get on your feet. Then we’ll work something out.” Sam’s eyes sparkled with sincerity. “And, to be perfectly honest, I asked some people I know who still work at your old hospital about you. They had nothing but high praise for you. You can do this, Sky. I know you can. And I’ll help make it happen.”

  To be a nurse again would be a dream come true, but having to depend on someone else to help her, well, that had never worked to her advantage. “I’ll think about it and let you know after Thanksgiving. Will that be all right?”

  “Of course. Ah, here comes Coop, and he has that I-need-coffee-now look.”

  The lunch crowd filtered in, then it was the afternoon coffee and pie group. The constant activity kept her busy, but Sam’s offer remained foremost in her mind. Common sense said take it; lack of confidence made her hesitate. What if she had to go back to school? Was she up to that? Plus, the closest one was over an hour away. And she was thirty-three years old now; would she be competing with twenty-somethings? What about Maddie? How could she work it all out?

  By the time her shift ended, she was no closer to a decision than before.

  Head bent against the cold wind, she didn’t see Cade until he touched her arm, making her jump. “What is it, Cade?”

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to apologize for last night. I was out of line.”

  “Yes. You were.”

  He took a breath and ducked his head. “I’m sorry. I should not have talked to Louise without asking you first. I’ll tell her never mind.”

  “Don’t bother. I already did.”

  He shuffled his feet and extended his hands out, palm up in a pleading manner. “Look, I just want us to get to know each other better. I’m sorry if I overstepped my bounds. It won’t happen again.”

  His contrite manner probably worked on most women.

  Sky wasn’t most women.

  “Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to pick my daughter up at school.”

  He tried to put his hand over hers as she gripped the door handle, but she jerked it away in time.

  Unruffled, he continued as though nothing happened. “How about we all go out for pizza tonight? You, me, and the kid.”

  It wasn’t the first time he referred to her daughter as the kid, and it ticked her off. “The kid’s name is Maddie.”

  “Fine. Okay. You, me, and Maddie. How about it? I’ll pick you up at six.”

  His smile said he thought he’d won.

  He hadn’t. Not by a long shot.

  “Maddie has something at school tonight.” She yanked on the door handle.

  “Great. I’ll take you, then we can go for pizza afterwards.”

  She took a deep breath. “My answer hasn’t changed, Cade. No.”

  His jovial expression turned sour. “You going with Logan? Is that it?”

  The instant change in his attitude caught her off guard for a moment. Relying on her combative patient training, she straightened and faced him. “As I said before, none of your business. Now, please remove your hand.”

  “Everything all right, Miss Sky?”

  The question came from Big John Andrews, a local handyman, who stood at the back door holding a narrow piece of wood trim. At least six five with a huge barrel chest and tree-trunk arms, he dwarfed the door’s narrow opening. Snow-white hair hung below a worn toboggan, his weathered face covered by a peppery beard that reached mid-chest. His age could have been fifty or seventy, the lines and scars on his face attesting to a life lived hard. Rumor had it the only thing he liked better than a good fight was Ruby’s pecan pie.

  To Sky, though, he was a gentle giant of a man who looked out for those he cared for. Happily, she and Maddie fit that category.

  John inclined his head toward Cade. “He bothering you?”

  “No. He’s just leaving.”

  Big John dropped the trim and took a step forward. “He need some help?”

  Cade’s jaw clinched and relaxed. “Logan’s nothing but trouble, Skylar.” He tipped the brim of his western hat. “I’ll be around when you come to your senses.”

  John watched until Cade was out of sight. “He gives you any more sass, Miss Sky, just let me know. I’d love to have a chat with him.”

  She released the breath she held and jerked on the door handle again. “Thanks, John, but I don’t think that will be necessary.”

  “Guys like him don’t like being told no.” His battle-scarred face was grim as he picked up the discarded piece of wood. “My offer stands.”

  “You’ve made great progress, Max, so I was a little surprised at your call today. What’s going on?”

  From their first session over a year ago, Dr. Oscar Bellamy’s smooth cadence, coupled with a deep southern accent and calm demeanor, put Max at ease. Pale blue eyes radiated compassion and understanding, seeing past a multitude of hurts and anger that made it easy to talk.

  The faux leather on his chair squeaked as Max sat up straighter. “I had it again…the nightmare—a few days ago. Not as bad as before, but…”

  “But…?”

  He pulled in a ragged breath. “I
thought I was past that.”

  “Even though you may no longer experience the nightmares, Max, the memories of the event are still there. Consequently, certain situations or people or even thoughts can cause them to resurface.” He leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him. “We can’t eliminate the memory itself, but we can reduce its effect on your life by continuing to practice the coping skills we’ve developed for you.”

  Max nodded. “I had a conversation with another vet. Afghanistan was a walk in the park compared to what he went through in ‘Nam.” He paused and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “You think maybe that dredged up the other?”

  “It’s possible. Did you experience any discomfort when you were talking with this man?”

  “Surprisingly no, I didn’t. I listened to Big John talk about being over there and what he went through when he got home, and all I felt was anger that he had to go through that alone.”

  Over the next half hour, Max was relieved to discover that what he faced was part and parcel of his new normal. He had not regressed in his treatment.

  Dr. Bellamy removed his glasses and wiped them with a tissue from the box on his desk. “I get the impression there’s something else on your mind, son. What is it?”

  Max rubbed his hands together, not sure how to begin. He wanted to talk about Sky and Maddie but didn’t know what to say.

  “Is it the upcoming holiday? Just talk, Max. The right words will find their way out.”

  He took a deep breath. “I met someone. A woman.” He met the man’s attentive gaze. “She has a child. A little girl named Maddie.”

  “And?”

  Consumed with nervous energy, Max stood and paced the area behind his chair. “They’re awesome. Sky is kind and compassionate with a beautiful smile. And Maddie.” He shook his head lightly and grinned. “She’s a terrific kid.” He braced his arms on the back of the chair, head downcast. “I’m better, I know that, but…I’m still a mess.” Thoughts of Cade’s parting insult warred with Maddie’s unconditional acceptance. And Sky. She wanted to be with him. “I’m no good for them. Or anyone else.”

  Dr. Bellamy waited until Max looked at him to reply. “So, you don’t think you’re worthy to have them in your life?”

  “Yes. No. I mean…hell I don’t know what I mean.”

  “Have you told her about your PTSD?”

  He shook his head and shoved his hands in his back pockets. “Just that Afghanistan screwed me up.”

  “What did she say to that?”

  He sighed. “She wants a chance to see if we can make it.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  Max’s short laugh held no mirth. “Hell, Doc, you know what a mess I was. Just because the nightmares have all but stopped, and I’m able to hold down a job, doesn’t mean I’m cured.”

  “No, it doesn’t. That takes time. And support. But you’re a strong young man, Max. You want to get better and work hard to do so. I know you’ll succeed.” Dr. Bellamy placed his glasses on the desk and folded his hands together. “What’s her name?”

  “Sky. Skylar. She’s a waitress at Ruby’s Diner.” He smiled as the memory of their recent dinner and shopping together washed over him. “She used to be a nurse but had to give it up when Maddie was younger.” He gazed at the array of awards and certificates on the wall along with photos of what appeared to be his family. “I bet she’d be a good nurse.”

  “How do you feel about the child?”

  “Maddie? She’s a pistol.” He laughed. A genuine laugh that made Bellamy smile. “She wants me to be her mother’s male companion.”

  By the time Max finished the story, the psychiatrist had joined in the laughter.

  “What if I mess up, Doc? What if something happens, and I go off the deep end or, God forbid, hurt one of them?”

  “You can’t live your life worrying about what-ifs, son. You take it one day, one thing at a time.”

  “That’s what Sky said.”

  “Sounds like a smart woman.”

  Max dropped into his chair. “I won’t lie, Doc. I like her. A lot. Since the first time I ever saw her. Maybe too much. And Maddie, too. We…we all…fit, you know?” He scrubbed his face with both hands. “They’ve been through a lot. Sky has had to struggle to get by. It would kill me if I did something to hurt them.”

  Bellamy walked around the desk and sat in the chair beside him. “Look at me, Max.”

  When he complied, the psychiatrist continued. “Be honest with her. Tell her the truth. All of it. From what you told me, I don’t see her backing away. But if she does, it wasn’t meant to be, and the sooner you know that, the better for all of you.” He placed one hand on Max’s shoulder. “I think you need her, Max. She could be good for you.”

  He stiffened. “I won’t use her just to get well.”

  “That’s not what I meant, son. You need someone in your life who cares about you. Someone you care about in return, to be beside you on this rough path you have to walk.”

  Max struggled to keep the tears stinging his eyes from spilling out. Marines don’t cry. “I want it to be her, Doc,” he whispered. “And Maddie. I want it so damn bad.”

  “Then you have to work for it. Talk to her. My guess is, her answer will make you smile again.”

  He pulled in a lungful of air and blew it out through pursed lips. “She’s cooking Thanksgiving dinner at my house.”

  Bellamy patted his shoulder and smiled. “Something tells me this will be a new beginning for you, Max. You have my cell number. Call me. I want to know how it goes.”

  By the time Max exited the building, not even the cold north wind could douse the fire inside.

  For the first time in his life, he allowed himself to hope for a brighter future.

  Max turned into the drive, noting Sky’s Taurus in its usual spot, but the house was dark. Disappointment turned to delight when he saw her through his kitchen window. He didn’t really think she would use the key. A rare smile tugged up one corner of his mouth, and his heart rate escalated. He couldn’t remember the last time he was happy to be home.

  The aromas assailing his nostrils stopped him cold when he entered the kitchen. “I don’t know what you’ve been cooking, but it smells wonderful in here.”

  She whirled around at his entrance. “I’m sorry. I thought I’d be done before you got home.” She glanced at the clock and then back at him.

  Her voice held a note of unease he hadn’t heard before. She stood in front of his seldom-used stove, an apron tied around her waist and a small towel tossed over one shoulder, hands encased in what looked like oversized mittens. Her face glistened with a light sheen of perspiration, and several curls escaped a lop-sided ponytail and clung to her neck. Her cheeks boasted a bright shade of pink, whether from the heat or something else, he couldn’t say.

  She was a beautiful sight to behold.

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, they closed early. The holiday and all.”

  She jumped when something dinged behind her, then twisted around and opened the oven door.

  He watched in fascination as those mitten-clad hands reached inside and pulled out a rectangle dish and placed it on top of the stove.

  His mouth watered as the enticing smell of cinnamon and sugar wafted toward him. “Is that what I think it is?”

  A tentative smile greeted his question. “Peach cobbler. You said it was your favorite, so I made a big one. Thought you might be able to eat on it for a couple of days.”

  With two long strides, he stood in front of the stove, head bent, inhaling deeply. “If it tastes half as good as it smells, it may not last that long.”

  She chuckled as she removed the mittens and placed them on the counter. “Well, I hope you like it.”

  “I’m sure I will.” He glanced around the kitchen. “Where’s Tink?”

  The smile vanished and worry knitted her brow. “She’s watching TV in the living room.” She folded her arms around her middle. “She’s not been hersel
f today. I thought she might be getting sick again, but she’s not running a fever. I hope you don’t mind. About the TV, I mean.”

  “Of course not. Is there anything I can do?” He didn’t know much about Maddie’s history beyond that she had some medical issues. The thought of her being ill made his mouth go dry.

  Sky straightened and shook her head. “No. We’re fine. Sometimes cold weather causes her asthma to act up. I’m sure that’s all it is.” She looked around the kitchen as though cataloging what she saw, then turned back to Max. “I think I have everything ready for tomorrow. I’ll put the turkey on at my house, and we’ll get it when it’s time.”

  “Is there anything you need me to do?” He kept his expression neutral as he added, “besides test that peach cobbler?”

  The smile froze on her face as their eyes met.

  The connection was so strong, the pull so magnetic, he had to force himself not to close the distance between them.

  When her gaze dropped to his lips and jerked up again, he reminded himself to breathe.

  Do I have the right to do this? What if Dr. Bellamy is wrong? “…Sky…”

  Before he could force the words out, Maddie entered the kitchen. One look at her usually cheerful face, and Max understood Sky’s concern. He took a step toward the table. “Hey, Tink. You okay?”

  Red-rimmed sapphire eyes darted from Sky and then to him. She drew in a jerky breath and paused. “Is PTSD like cancer, Max? Are you gonna die?”

  “Maddie!”

  Even Sky’s sharp tone didn’t penetrate the roar in his ears.

  Maddie ran to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I don’t want you to die!”

  “Madeline Adele—”

  Maddie squeezed tighter, the words pouring out as her tiny body trembled with sobs. “Miss Gail said it was like cancer and sucked the life out of you.”

  Max couldn’t move. Didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t prepared for this conversation. Especially not with a kid. His heart pounded, and he forced himself to focus on controlling the encroaching panic.