The Sergeant's Unexpected Family

by Carrie Nichols

  Brody rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension that had settled there as he trudged toward the house. Maybe he should’ve found a motel for Mary and Elliott. He was under no obligation to look after his brother’s...his brother’s what?

  And that was the heart of the problem. What was Mary to Roger? And what was he to her? Had they had a fight and she left, hoping his brother would chase after her the way his father did his mother? If that were true, then he’d be smack-dab in the middle of all that family drama—a place he swore he’d never be again.

  And if this wasn’t family drama, he didn’t know what was. This wasn’t just any woman or any baby staying with him. This was fallout from Roger’s callous actions. Sure, he’d picked up after Roger in the past, but this wasn’t the same as paying to replace the neighbor’s busted mailbox or getting Roger’s car from the impound when his parking tickets had mounted up.

  Brody wasn’t any more responsible for Roger’s actions than he’d been for their father’s, and yet here he was, disrupting his life to pick up the pieces. He’d done so in the past to shield his mother or appease his father, but they were both gone and he’d washed his hands of Roger years ago. So why did he have an alluring stranger and her baby in his house?

  Stretching his neck, he made a conscious effort to relax his tensed muscles. The situation was temporary. Concussions didn’t last forever, and if her car couldn’t be repaired, he and Ogle would help her find a replacement. A few days and Mary would move out and he’d get to know his nephew without the distraction of her sleeping across the hall. He could withstand anything for a few days—his time in the army had taught him that. The gossip chain was already started, so he might as well do right by his nephew.

  Entering the house, he toed off his dirty Roper boots in the mudroom. A welcoming aroma and Mary’s voice drifted from the kitchen, and he stood on socked feet in the doorway. Mary sat at the antique oak table with her back to him, spooning something into Elliott’s mouth as he sat in the high chair. The baby seemed as intent on pushing the food back out with his tongue as he was with eating it.

  “C’mon, sweetie, you like rice cereal. You gotta eat if you want to grow up big and strong.”

  Brody’s breath caught in his chest at the scene. Don’t get used to her presence in the house. Remember, this is temporary.

  Clearing his throat, he stepped into the kitchen. Mary glanced over her shoulder. Her welcome smile tightened his belly and he tried to remember the last time he’d had a woman in his kitchen. The few he’d gotten involved with for any length of time had either complained about the mess when he was in the middle of restoring this room or disliked being so far from town. Would Mary feel the same? You can soldier through a couple of days.

  “I was giving Elliott some supper,” she said before turning back to her task.

  The scent of garlic and tomatoes filled the kitchen, reminding him he’d skipped lunch. “That’s not his supper I smell, is it?”

  She laughed. “No. I found a lasagna casserole in the refrigerator and put it in the oven. I hope that’s okay... I mean, you said you were going to have to look for something.”

  “Lasagna? You found lasagna in my refrigerator?”

  “I’m sorry, was I not—”

  He held up his hands. “No, it’s okay. I have no idea how—oh, wait, I’ll bet Tavie sent it with Ogle. I saw him come into the kitchen with something, but I was busy helping Danny and Kevin get the baby things into the house and set up.”

  “I thought you might be hungry after working all afternoon. The foil covering the casserole dish was dated with reheating instructions on it and I wanted to help, since it looks like we’ve been dropped on you for a few days.”

  He washed his hands in the sink. When was the last time he’d shared supper with anyone? Huh, maybe Jan was right and he was an ogre. Watching Mary, he would be hard-pressed to remember why he wanted isolation. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better. I took a nap while Elliott slept. That and some ibuprofen helped take the edge off the headache.”

  He threw the towel onto the counter. “I’m glad.”

  She glanced over at him, the spoon poised in midair. “If we get in your way, just tell me. I know we must be a distraction, but I don’t want to be a burden, too.”

  “You’re not.” A complication? Yes. A distraction? Yes. A burden? No. “Don’t worry, having to wear clothes walking around the house isn’t as disruptive as I’d feared.”

  “That’s a relief,” she said and that grin—the one that made his heart thump against his chest—skipped across her face.

  “I’m glad I could set your mind at ease.” Danger signs flashed in his head, but he ignored them.

  “Let me check on the lasagna.” She set the cereal bowl on the table and rose.

  Elliott must’ve thought she had stopped feeding him, because his face scrunched up and he started to fuss. His fingers splayed, he reached for the cereal bowl.

  “Oh, sweetie.” Mary turned back toward the baby, but Brody waved her off.

  “I got it.” He took Mary’s place in the seat, picked up the spoon and began feeding his nephew, who decided he was done spitting the cereal back out and ate with gusto while intently tracking his mom.

  Elliott wasn’t the only one keeping an eye on her. Brody watched as she puttered around the kitchen. He couldn’t help but admire how great she looked in the figure-hugging jeans and snug hot pink T-shirt. Dragging his attention back to his task, he scraped the bowl and spooned the last bit into Elliott’s mouth. Such a cute kid, with Mary’s dark hair and eyes.

  “Thank you.” She wiped Elliott’s face and hands with a washcloth. She even managed to get him clean, despite the squirming protests. “The lasagna should be done by the time I get him bathed and into his pajamas. I can give him a bottle while we eat, if that’s okay. You must be hungry after farming all afternoon.”

  Damn, but he didn’t want to be charmed by her. He needed to remember some families didn’t have cheerful, welcoming kitchens at the end of the day. His certainly hadn’t. Don’t let that smile make you stupid. “Don’t worry about it. As you said, this isn’t like a regular farm.”

  “I hope you know I was teasing about the animals or lack of.” She folded the wet cloth and wiped the plastic high-chair tray. “As a matter of fact, I would have given anything to stay someplace like this during the summer for a week or two when I was a kid.”

  “On a farm?” Was she still teasing?

  She licked her lips. “You laugh, but when you’ve spent your life in a city, a farm with live animals can sound exotic.”

  His gaze went to her mouth, and he had to concentrate on following their conversation. “I hate to disappoint you, but my cow and chickens aren’t very exotic.”

  “You have alpacas.” Her eyes sparkled with humor. Blushing, she turned away and went to the sink.

  He suppressed an urge to pull her onto his lap and kiss her. Or hold her and celebrate their playful moment. “True, but their names don’t make my alpacas exotic. Just proves I’m a bit of a nerd.”

  Turning around, she made a tsking sound. “Oh, believe me, you’re not like any nerd I’ve ever known, and I have a degree in accounting.”

  “What about farmers? Know any?”

  “You’re my first. Although I’ve had a dream of—” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

  He needed to know what had put that faraway look on her face. “Tell me.”

  She glanced around as if checking to see who might be listening. “I’ve had a dream of opening a summer camp on a farm for city kids who have no idea places like this exist or kids whose home life is rough...you know, kids like Kevin and Danny.” She pulled in her lower lip. “Although I suspect Kevin and Danny would argue that they’re too old for camp.”

  “How do you know so much about Kevin and Danny?” He suspected s
he was the type of person who drew people to her. Whereas you do your best to push them away.

  “Ogle told me about Kevin’s father’s drinking and neglect and Danny dropping out of school. He explained how Deputy Cooper and his wife were mentoring the two boys. I’d like to be a part of something like that.”

  “There’s plenty of ways you can help. Programs are already in place.” He wasn’t into volunteering, but there were several opportunities in town. “The church on the green—the one we passed on our way through town—they run a soup kitchen. Meg Cooper helps with that.”

  “Thank you.” She swallowed. “I’ll be sure to ask her about it when I thank her for the clothes.”

  “Opening and running a summer camp...” He wanted to kick himself for the closed expression on her lovely face. “There must be a ton of paperwork, regulations and bureaucracy involved in that sort of undertaking.”

  “I’m sure it would take a lot of work to get it started. But what’s wrong with that?”

  She put a great deal of effort into wringing out the wet cloth. Was she imagining his neck between her hands? He laughed to himself. It would serve him right.

  “It would be a bureaucratic nightmare.” He regretted the callous remark as soon as it left his mouth. His upbringing might have been privileged in material wealth but when it came to emotional support, his experience was similar to Kevin and Danny. Which was why he’d done what he could for the teens. He tugged on his ear and reached for a toothpick, but his pocket was empty.

  “True.” She folded the washcloth, her movements slow and precise. “But just because something is difficult doesn’t mean it’s not worth pursuing.”

  Aw, man, was he some sort of special jerk or what? He’d pursued getting into the Deltas, even though the army put up rigorous roadblocks at every turn. How many people would consider spending weeks tracking down restoration hardware pieces instead of popping into the nearest home improvement store a waste of time?

  If she wanted to face all those hurdles to realize her dream, who was he to argue?

  She adjusted the high chair’s tray and lifted a droopy-eyed Elliott, who popped his thumb in his mouth and snuggled against her shoulder.

  Regret gnawed at his gut, and he struggled to explain. “Bureaucracy is...”

  “A special kind of hell?”

  He released a ragged breath. “You sound as if you’ve had experience.”

  “Something like that, yeah.” She hugged Elliott. “I’m going to get him ready for bed. Be back in a minute to get supper on the table.”

  He put a hand on her arm before she left the room. “I’ll have it ready when you’re done.”

  Brody snatched the pot holders off the counter and knocked the washcloth Mary had used onto the floor. He bent to pick it up and his muscles protested. Dang, but what little work he’d accomplished today couldn’t account for the fatigue. Mary’s hurt expression sprang into his mind’s eye. Swearing under his breath, he straightened and threw the wet cloth into the sink.

  Guilt was a heavy burden, and he was getting tired of lugging it around. And guilt was futile, since he couldn’t go back and change the events of that day, how his helplessness had put others in danger.

  He reached into his pocket before remembering it was empty. He damned Tavie and her concern for his health and went in search of a toothpick.

  Chapter Three

  It was two in the morning, and Mary was in the kitchen preparing a bottle with Elliott perched on her hip and swaying to a tune she hummed under her breath.

  “Is everything okay?” Brody hovered in the doorway.

  She turned, and her breath caught in her throat. Dressed in sleep pants and a faded T-shirt, a yawning, rumpled Brody was even more tempting than the man who’d sat across from her at supper that evening. Way too tempting. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, mussing it further as he strolled into the dimly lit kitchen. Her stomach fluttered. His feet were bare. Who knew that could feel so...so...intimate?

  “Sorry if we woke you. I tried to be as quiet as possible.” At Elliott’s first cries, she’d rushed to get him and come downstairs to fix him a bottle.

  “That’s fine.” He yawned again. “Elliott okay?”

  “Yeah, just wet and hungry. He’s started sleeping through the night, but...” She shifted him from one shoulder to the other as she got his bottle ready. “Between the accident and being in a strange place, it’s playing havoc with his schedule, I think.”

  “May I?” He approached and reached for Elliott. “You’ve got your hands full.”

  “Thank you.” Nice, but don’t get used to sharing and having an adult to talk to in the middle of the night, she cautioned herself as Brody took Elliott. As soon as she had a car, she’d be out looking for employment and a place to live. As exciting as that prospect was, she’d miss Brody’s farm and the welcoming farmhouse. One day and you’re becoming attached? But knowing this home had been here housing families for such a long time made her yearn for a history she’d never have, although she was determined to give one to Elliott. She glanced at Brody cradling her son against his shoulder. This farm could be a part of Elliott’s life, a place he’d remember from visits to his uncle—if that’s what Brody wanted.

  “How did you end up on a farm in Vermont?” As far as she knew, he and Roger had grown up in Hartford.

  “My father’s family had a farm and I enjoyed spending time there as a kid. While I was in Afghanistan I thought about that place a lot but by the time I got out of the army, the farm had been sold.” He shrugged. “It’s now a subdivision full of tract homes.”

  He may have brushed it off, but she could see his disappointment. “You’re doing a great job of preserving this one.”

  “Maybe big guy here will want to farm it someday,” he said and laughed.

  She laughed, too, but Brody’s words made the back of her eyes burn. Blinking, she finished readying the bottle and was prepared to take Elliott back, but Brody reached for the bottle.

  “You want to feed him?”

  He pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “If you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not,” she said, but Brody’s offer stirred up mixed feelings. This was what she’d wanted, the whole reason she’d come to Loon Lake, so Brody could bond with his nephew. And she was glad he was jumping in and even speaking in terms of Elliott and the future. She was...and yet, placing Elliott in someone else’s care was like handing over her heart.

  After giving Brody the bottle, she poured herself a glass of water at the sink, not because of thirst, but because she had to move to help release some of the building tension. Seeing Brody holding, feeding and talking with Elliott turned her insides to mush, made her think things she had no business thinking. This moment wasn’t a happy family moment, but two strangers thrust together because of circumstances.

  Brace your backbone and forget your wishbone.

  A child services worker had given her that piece of advice when she’d been in foster care and it still held true today. Maybe she should have followed that advice and proceeded with greater caution with Roger. But then she wouldn’t have Elliott, and she couldn’t imagine her life without her son. She slammed the door on what-ifs and sipped her water. What did Brody think? He hadn’t said much about his brother.

  She ran her finger along the rim of the glass. “It didn’t last long.”

  “Hmm?” Brody looked up.

  “Roger and I.” Mary took her glass and sat at the table across from Brody and Elliott. “He...he wasn’t the man I thought him to be, but I guess maybe I wasn’t what he was looking for, either.”

  “Oh?” He adjusted the bottle when it began to slip from Elliott’s hands.

  “I think for him it was all about the pursuit, not making something lasting.” She rolled the glass between her palms. “In my defense, Roger knows how to
turn on the charm.”

  “He does, but don’t sell yourself short. I’m sure you’re what most men are looking for.”

  Most? What about you? Could I be what you’re looking for? “Thanks, but I have this little guy here to consider in every decision from now on. Whom I’m with also affects him. Lots of guys don’t want the responsibility of another man’s child, but Elliott and I do fine.” She drew circles with her index finger on the table. “It’s just that I have no family, and I want my son to know his.”

  “Tell me that at least Roger stepped up financially.” When she didn’t reply, he blew out his breath and swore. “Wait till I get my hands on that—”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “Why not? He needs to step up.” Although he was whispering, Brody’s anger was loud and clear.

  Elliott had fallen asleep, the bottle slipping out of his mouth, so she reached over. “Here, let me take him.”

  Brody placed him back with Mary, and she put him on her shoulder and rubbed his back. “I can support both of us. I’m a CPA. I’m sure I can find work. I have a solid employment history. A company buyout was the reason I lost my job. They’ll give me good references.”

  At least a concerned caseworker from her time in the foster care system had convinced her to take full advantage of educational opportunities and she’d gone to college on grants and scholarships, keeping student loans to a minimum. It hadn’t been easy, but she’d done well financially. And would continue to.

  Brody frowned. “That’s not the point.”

  “If you must know, when I approached him regarding child support, he threatened me with a custody battle.” Frightened by his threats, she recalled feeling helpless despite swearing to not get into a situation like that as an adult. Roger having the means to hire high-powered attorneys didn’t mean he deserved his son.

  “And you let him get away with it?”

  “What could I do? I won’t take the chance of losing Elliott under any circumstances. If he wanted to be involved in Elliott’s life, I would do everything in my power to see that happen, but he doesn’t and that’s the end of it.” Her voice rose an octave, and Elliott stirred.