She'd slammed the door on him again, Kyle thought, but he kicked it open a crack. "I scare you, don't I? The past frightens you." He shifted his stance, bringing his body closer to hers, smothering her. "Why, Max?"
She wrenched her arm free. "The matter is dead, Kyle. Quit trying to revive it," she said, then left, the close of the door a soft click in the big house.
"The discussion is far from over," he said to the kitchen walls. He wasn't going to get a clear explanation from her, and Kyle considered giving up and maintaining a congenial silence. What was the use in dredging up the past? He stared out the kitchen window as she stomped across the yard to the barn, zipping her jacket and adjusting her hat as she went. No, he couldn't let it go, her evasions magnifying his need to know exactly why she'd left him. He had a right to know, didn't he?
Even after you ignored her letters and calls? a voice pestered.
Well, he was here now and he wasn't leaving until he exorcised Maxie from his system. The time was long overdue.
In the barn, Maxie saddled a horse and led it from the stall. She mounted, digging in her heels and letting the impatient beast have its head. Pulling her hat low on her brow, she leaned forward, feeling the power of the animal as it charged across open country, the wind thrashing at her jacket. The thunder of hooves, coupled with her heartbeat, sang hard in her veins. She'd gone two or three miles before the horse tired and she slowed, turning back toward the ranch. And Kyle.
Why did he have to open up this can of worms? He would never understand why she couldn't marry him then. And yet she knew he would keep harping on the subject until he got some answers. She was already weary of his prodding, and he'd only been here a few hours.
As she returned to the barn, the phone extension inside rang. She quickened her pace, riding directly into the barn and leaning out to reach the receiver anchored near the entrance. She heard his voice on the other end.
"Wind Dancer Ranch," Kyle said.
"Who is this?"
Her mom. Great. Now it starts, Maxie thought, listening, then wondered if something was wrong with Mimi. "Who is this?"
"Mrs. Lacy Parrish." The dignity Mom possessed even came through the phone, Maxie thought.
She heard his breath come in a tired sigh. "Hello, Mrs. Parrish," came almost reluctantly. "This is Kyle."
"Hayden?" High-pitched surprise colored her mother's voice.
"Yes, ma'am."
There was a long pause before her mother asked, "What are you doing there, son?" Mom's compassionate tone annoyed her.
"My chopper's on lease to the rescue association."
"Oh."
Did Mom think she'd actually called him? No, she wouldn't, Maxie thought. Not Mom. She knew everything. Well, almost everything.
"And there were no hotel rooms available?"
Go, Momma.
Kyle chuckled softly. "Don't I wish…?"
"Yes, son, I imagine you would," came softly. "She out with the mounts?"
"Yeah, I guess," he said. "I'll tell her you called."
Her mom said goodbye and hung up. Maxie waited until Kyle had, too, before she did. In twenty minutes, her sister would know who was in town, Dad would have checked out his story with Jackson, considering he was her dad's friend, discreetly of course, since no one but her family knew the identity of Mimi's father. Maxie briefly closed her eyes.
Her sisters would call, then her dad and, Maxie didn't doubt, her mom would make an "I was just happening by" visit tomorrow. Mom had adored Kyle, a soft spot for a man in uniform, she supposed. But Mom had stood by her when she'd made her decision to have her baby and raise her daughter alone. Again Maxie thanked God for her parents and their understanding. If they had rejected her, her entire life would have been different. Even though her dad had mixed feelings about Kyle, he'd always felt she should have told Kyle about his daughter, returned letters or not. Mom had sided with her. Kyle's ignorance was her and Mimi's bliss.
Dismounting, she drew the horse into a stall, removing the saddle and hefting it over the separation between the enclosures. She curried the hot animal, then went to the next stall and pulled open the gate. One by one she led the mares and geldings into the corral, leaving the docile mules and letting the horses work off some of the anxiousness punctuating the cold air. After she moved several horses to the corral, she exercised each one in turn.
Kyle stood on the threshold of the front door, the screen shielding little of the wind as he watched her ride away for the eighth time that day. She looked good on a horse, and he realized he'd never seen her ride before. Nor work so hard. Even when her father had owned a couple of horses. Maxie had over twenty now, he estimated. Kyle wanted to lend a hand, but after this morning, knew she didn't want him around. Bored, he turned back into the house, and his attention caught on several pictures, each in a different wood frame. He leaned over the foyer table, examining them. They were family shots: her mother, father, sisters and, Kyle assumed, their husbands and children. He smiled, remembering how thunderous her dad could look. There was one of Maxie, a little redheaded girl standing behind her, tiny arms slung around Maxie's neck, their cheeks pressed together. Must be a niece, he thought, then glanced at the other photos. A favorite niece, he decided when he found more shots of the girl.
Kyle had never been around kids much. He and his brother were alone since they were adolescents, running wild when the orphanage counselors couldn't handle them. Or find them. Little kids made him nervous. Kyle looked down at his broad hand, closing it in a fist. He was a big man and was always afraid he would hold them too tight, raise his voice too loud. And he never knew what to say to them. Just as well he wasn't around them, he supposed, looking back at the shots. He envied the togetherness the photos radiated, the love and trust. Kyle and his brother had that between them, but never a family. Not since his mother had abandoned them and their dad split not long after.
His mood darkening too fast, Kyle forced the memory aside and entered the kitchen, did the dishes, wiping the counters before heading to the living room to stoke the fire. He called the rescue station to check in, and although there were no emergencies, he agreed to fly a search team over the canyon before the sun was completely down, to make certain nothing or no one was overlooked.
He checked his watch, calculating the time out and back. He had to leave now to be out of the canyon by dark. Night flying was no problem but in the blackness of the Grand Canyon, it was dangerous. Kyle thought about leaving Maxie a note, then remembered seeing an intercom by the front door. He walked to it, depressing the Talk button marked Stables and called her name.
She must still be out, he thought when she didn't answer, then grabbed some paper left by the phone, scribbling a note.
He was out the door in less than five minutes, his flight log tucked under his arm and his thoughts wandering over the Disney character toothbrush he'd seen in the bathroom.
Inside the chopper, Kyle traded his cowboy hat for the ball cap and started the engine, flipping on the heat as soon as he could. It was going to snow tonight, he decided, glancing at the low, thick clouds. Lifting off, he veered over the open land, his gaze searching for Maxie, half expecting to find her riding hell-bent for leather. But he found her near the edge of the canyon, the horse gnawing at the grass beside her. She looked up as he passed overhead, and Kyle rocked the craft. She put up her hand, waving. For a moment, he considered flipping on the loudspeaker, then decided against it. The noise would scare the horse and he had nothing to say. He banked on a curve and headed for the horizon.
Still a daredevil, Maxie thought as he maneuvered the chopper to dip and dart through the canyon. Just watching him made her stomach flip. Swinging up onto the saddle, she clicked her tongue and her horse backed away from the rim. She turned toward the ranch. One more mount to exercise before she could call Mimi.
Though she looked forward to talking to her baby, it was her mother's questions she had to answer.
"Grandpa bought me a sled," her
daughter said into the phone an hour later.
"Did he?" Maxie tossed her hat aside, ruffling her hair and bracing her back against the kitchen counter.
"Yup, and when it snows we're going to hitch it to Blue Bell and ride behind it."
"Oh, really?" she said in her best "did you ask permission" voice.
"Grandpa says!" came rebelliously, and Maxie could almost see the determination in her daughter, her hand fisted on her skinny hip.
"Hey? Who's the mom here?"
"You are," Mimi said sullenly.
Maxie's heart softened. "We'll see, princess. Let me talk to Grandma."
Mimi shouted for her grandmother yet forgot to hold the phone away from her mouth. "Mimi Anne!"
"Sorry, Momma."
"You're forgiven, sweetie."
"Well, you're not," her mother said, a smile in her voice. "How could you not tell us—?"
"I didn't know until he arrived."
A stretch of silence and then, "How are you with this, honey?"
"Lousy, but I don't have much choice."
"How's he look?" Pure female fascination lit her mother's voice.
"Good, Mom real good." His image blossomed in her mind, the lines at the corners of his eyes that gave his face more character, his broad chest and thick arms that called out to be explored. Yeah, she thought, an exceptional hunk of man.
"Still dangerous?"
Maxie laughed. "Yeah. How's Dad taking it?" She didn't think her father would be at all pleased.
"You know him, ready to protect his little girl from heartache."
Maxie sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I don't think he can this time, Mom. Kyle's different." It saddened her that his quick smiles and sexy teasing were missing, and for a moment, she longed for the old Kyle. "Seeing each other again has only opened up his pain." Maxie pinched the bridge of her nose. "I feel like such a creep." The backs of her eyes stung suddenly, and she wondered how long she could keep her guilt hidden from him. "I never thought it would last this long."
"That's a man for you, not caring when it counts and feeling slighted when it shouldn't." In the background, she heard her father tell his wife she wasn't a man, so how would she know what one should feel. Her mom ignored her dad, wisest tactic when he was on the defensive.
Her mother asked her several more questions, reminded her that Mimi was sleeping over at her friend Dana's house tonight, then said, "You're a grown woman, Maxine, dear, trust your judgment. I do."
Warmth sprang inside Maxie, and her anxiety eased a little. "Thanks, Mom, love you."
She hung up, grabbed a soda from the fridge, then headed to the bathroom for a long hot shower. A good hour later, she was leaving the bathroom in a wake of steam when she heard Kyle curse. Frowning, Maxie made certain her robe was sashed and wrapped to her throat before she opened the door, peering out. Empty.
An instant later, Kyle jerked open the second bathroom door, a towel wrapped around his hips and something clenched in his hand. Water dripped from his hair, trickled down his chest and for a moment, she let her gaze absorb the carved muscle, the clean, bare skin, the center of his chest sprinkled with dark hair. Oh, this was dangerous, she thought, then lowered her gaze to the Grecian doll dwarfing his palm.
"Oh, good." She crossed the hall, holding out her hand. "I've been looking for that."
He didn't give it to her, arching a sable dark brow. "You play with dolls in the shower?"
"Well, actually…" Her sudden smile was wistful, hitting him in the gut and he gave over the doll. "I collect them—" She adjusted the tiny diaphanous toga, watching her movements. "But this one is Mimi's."
Kyle swallowed tightly. "And Mimi is…?" Kyle had a strong feeling he didn't want to hear this.
She lifted her gaze. "My daughter."
"You have a child!" he roared, learning closer.
Maxie roared back, a mother grizzly protecting her cub. "Yeah. Got a problem with that?"
* * *
Four
« ^ »
The betraying little witch.
She'd been pregnant, round with life growing inside her. With another man's child. The redheaded child in the pictures. Yet she wouldn't marry him.
"Didn't take you long, huh?" he sneered, his gaze raking over the thick black velour robe, hunting for changes in her body.
Maxie lifted her chin, clutching the garment at her throat. "Long for what?"
"To hop in bed with another man after I left." No wonder she wrote only once, he thought, unquenchable anger racing over his thoughts.
Her gaze thinned, a shaft of pain driving through her chest. He seriously believed she was that shallow? And why the hell did he care now? He never answered her calls or her letters.
"How long were you going to keep the fact that you had a kid from me?" he said before she could respond.
"Mimi is not a kid. She is a child and I wasn't keeping her from you." She leveled him a righteous look, motherhood screaming from every cell and said, "It didn't matter whether you knew or approved. And by your distasteful reaction, I'm glad she wasn't around to hear it!"
She spun away and ducked into her bedroom, shutting the door in his face.
Kyle blinked, staring at the closed door, her barb hitting its target with deadly accuracy. If Mimi had heard him, Maxie would be soothing the hurt feelings of an innocent little girl. God, he felt lower than dirt.
"Max?" he said to the closed door. "I—ah—"
"Go away, Kyle," she warned. "I'm getting dressed."
Kyle looked down at the wet towel around his hips, then darted into the bathroom to grab his jeans. He couldn't let this drop, he thought, hurriedly hopping into his jeans as he returned to the hallway. He had her trapped, and she couldn't ignore him anymore.
"Max, I'm sorry."
No answer. He yanked up his jeans and managed the zipper before pounding on her door. "Open up."
"Or what? You'll kick it in and insult my intelligence and my daughter again?"
He frowned. Her voice sounded funny, strained. "Come on, Maxie. You know I didn't mean it like that. I was caught off guard." That was an understatement! He rapped again, determined to stay here all night if he had to. Yet she was stubborn enough to hold out in there for days. "Maxine Parrish, for once, quit taking the easy way out and talk to me!"
Seconds later, she flung the door wide open. "Damn you, Kyle Hayden," she said, glaring up at him. "You had no right to say those things to me."
Her glassy eyes softened his anger. "We were going to be married. That gives a man—"
She was in his face. "Were. Past." She poked his bare chest with every word. "And an engagement seven years ago does not give you any rights—let alone the right to question my life now!"
He caught her fingers, trapping them against his chest. "I loved you, damn it!"
She inhaled sharply and tried to wrestle free, but he caught her around the waist, slamming her against him, thigh to thigh, hip to hip, their clothing a woefully inadequate barrier between them.
"I loved you," he rasped again, his gaze scouring her features.
Maxie's heart skipped to her throat, her body suddenly aware and blistering with untamed sensations. He still said it with conviction, still had the same possessive look in his eyes and she thought of all the hurt he had a right to feel, then and now. "I know," she said sadly, reaching up to brush back a lock of sable hair. "I thought I loved you, too."
Thought. Never sure. Hearing her say it, look him in the eye and say it, drove a dagger of pain through his chest and for an instant, Kyle doubted the tangled feelings he'd harbored these years. He didn't know which hurt more—the lie she'd lived then or that he might have been in love alone.
His expression was like an open wound, stripped and bleeding. Oh, Kyle, Maxie thought. How much heartache had he wasted on her? His naked emotion made her keenly aware of how easily she could weaken for him again. Don't trust me. She wasn't good for him then, and she wasn't now. And for her daughter's sake, sh
e had to make him see they were finished years ago.
Suddenly she pushed out of his arms. "Have you been celibate since we last shared a bed?"
He scowled and Kyle didn't want to think of the women he'd tried to make into Maxie. Nor how empty he felt right now. "Of course not."
"Then don't expect me to have been, either. It's not your business what I did after we broke up, Kyle. Just like it's not mine to know what you did."
He was eighteen months in a hot desert, not giving a damn if he got shot, he thought, while she was sliding between the sheets with some stranger. "Yeah, that's right." His lips pulled in a tight humorless smile, the look offering a parade of women who didn't exist. "It isn't."
She gazed up at him, her brow furrowing before it stretched taut. "This isn't about my daughter or your broken heart," she said in a voice draped with wonder. "It's about your bruised pride. You're still mad because I left you at the altar."
"You're damn right I'm mad," he growled softly, heartache suspended for years rushing forward in a cold wave. "I stood there in that church, in full dress blues, holding some stupid bouquet with a ring worth two months' pay in my pocket and I waited for you." He loomed over her, his voice gaining steam. "And then I waited some more." He advanced, forcing her to back-step into her bedroom. "But when your parents arrived without you, I knew something was wrong. God," he rasped, "I felt like an idiot, but love-struck marine that I was … I kept telling myself, no…" He shook his head, still holding her gaze. "Maxie wouldn't do this to me. Maxie wouldn't make me wonder if she was in an accident bleeding somewhere—" His voice fractured with old misery, striking her in the chest pulling tears to the surface. "She loved me. I would have sworn on my soul to it!" Briefly, he looked away, shoving his fingers through his hair, simmering an instant before boiling over. "But you didn't give a damn!"
"That's not true!" she cried.
THE RE-ENLISTED GROOM Page 5
