THE RE-ENLISTED GROOM

by Amy J. Fetzer

  "You know he's going to be gone in a week or so, honey." How was she going to deal with this?

  Mimi yawned hugely. "Yeah. I know."

  Maxie scooted off the bed and tucked Mimi under the covers. She was half-asleep.

  "Is he a good kisser, Mom?" she said softly.

  "That's none of your business, madame."

  Mimi opened one kelly green eye and let it rake over her mother. "He is—I can tell."

  Maxie had the irresistible urge to straighten her clothes. "Kissed many boys, have you?"

  "Yuck," she said with feeling and a sour face. "But you haven't kissed a man in a loonngg time."

  Maxie didn't need to be reminded of that. Especially by a six-year-old. "Go to sleep, child. Before I ground you for playing possum in the truck."

  Mimi squeezed her eyes tightly shut, and Maxie turned off the lights, backing out of the room, closing the door. She turned and stopped short.

  Kyle was leaning against the frame of his bedroom door, his gaze moving over her with positive intent. He'd discovered a few things about himself in the past few moments. The least of which was that he felt like an outsider and he didn't want to, that he liked being with them both. Yet as much as he wanted to remain unbiased, he wanted to know—no, needed to know—whom she'd betrayed him with, enough to get Mimi and still be single after all these years. That she'd been married was still a bit of a shock, especially since she couldn't manage the feat with him. But why didn't she have her ex's name? Hell. Why didn't Mimi have her father's last name, at least? And neither female mentioned Mimi's dad, so what was the big mystery? He'd rehashed the question so much in the past few minutes, his brain was smoking.

  But one thing he needed to prove to both of them right now was that old passion and new were one and the same. Seven years or seven hours and a lot of soul searching wouldn't change it.

  Before she could react, he crossed the hall, slipping his arm around her waist with gentle purpose. She didn't back away and the instant she tipped her face up, he covered her mouth with his. His kiss was brief and hard, a liquid slide of lips and tongue, utterly savage.

  "Good night, Max." He liked that her breathing quickened and her eyes were still closed. He stepped back and slipped into his room, closing the door.

  Maxie sighed against the wall, brushing her hair off her face. Okay, she thought. What were you expecting? For him to lift you in his arms and carry you off to his bed?

  As Maxie moved through the house, switching off lights and locking doors, she realized that was exactly what she was hoping. And she was hoping that in the morning everything would be fine, no heartache, no deceptions or recrimination—no secrets that threatened their feeling for each other. Damn, she thought as she walked past his bedroom and into hers. She couldn't get the flicker of hope out of her mind. Don't want, she told herself. It will never work. She'd screwed up—everything—again. And they still had another week to go. Her past, she thought, had definitely come back to haunt her.

  Two days later, Maxie held on to the leads of the horse she'd been training, staring across the paddock to the pair just beyond the fence. "A ride in your chopper? I don't know," Maxie said uneasily, eyeing her daughter and the man beside her. Since Mimi met Kyle, she'd been waiting for this moment.

  "C'mon, Mom," Mimi said, climbing onto the lower rail, then swinging her leg over to straddle it.

  "No daredevil tricks, I swear." Kyle crossed his heart convincingly, aware this was one past flaw she was having trouble getting over. But he was suffering from having his own chaotic thoughts for company and terminal boredom. And since Maxie stopped him from his latest try at ranch work—something he would discuss with her later—he thought he could help out by keeping an eye on Mimi. "A short ride, fifteen minutes' air time tops. Nowhere near the canyon."

  "Oh, rats," Mimi said, huffing. "I wanted to see the river from the air."

  Kyle leaned toward her and whispered out of the side of his mouth. "Cool it, short stack. Let's not push our luck." Mimi grinned and winked.

  Kyle climbed up onto the rail beside Mimi, and they looked at Maxie with innocent expressions. She wasn't fooled. That they were becoming fast friends unnerved her, yet seeing them together, or rather Kyle willingly in her daughter's company again, created a wealth of hope Maxie didn't have a right to feel. She couldn't keep them apart without Kyle becoming suspicious. Although Mimi seemed to accept that Kyle wasn't sticking around, Maxie wasn't satisfied.

  But Mimi appeared as if her world depended on this one ride. And if truth be told, she'd been more underfoot than help since she came home from school.

  "So what'll it be, Max?"

  "Yeah, what'll it be, Mom?" Mimi piped up, her hands on her thighs like Kyle, her head cocked to one side like Kyle's.

  Seeing the resemblance drove a hard punch to Maxie's chest and she swallowed. Individually they were hard to resist; together, she was sunk. "All right. One ride, a short one."

  Mimi squealed, bouncing up and down on the rail.

  Kyle grinned, hopping off the fence and crossing the distance to Maxie. He held her gaze and could tell she was scared. "I won't let anything happen to her, Max," he said softly. "Trust me."

  Maxie searched his features, the sincerity in his dark eyes, then glanced past him to her daughter before bringing her gaze back to his. "I already am, Kyle." Her vision blurred a little. "She's all I have."

  His eyes softened, and he helped the wind brush her hair off her cheek, his fingers lightly stroking her cool jaw. Immediately he recognized the shuttered look in her eyes, her stiff posture. She'd been giving it to him since that afternoon in the barn. "You're wrong, Max." Before she could respond to that, he spun on his heels toward Mimi. "Let's get in the air, short stack." He vaulted the fence, then helped Mimi down. "We're losing good flying time."

  "Yeah, good flying time," Mimi mimicked, and they raced across the field toward the chopper.

  Maxie watched them until they lifted off, heading away from the canyon, as promised. It was really hard to see them together, she thought, and though Mimi didn't miss what she never had, Maxie recognized their growing attachment. It didn't surprise her. Father and daughter were more alike than she cared to admit. Maxie dreaded Kyle's inevitable departure.

  For who, a voice asked. You or Mimi?

  Maxie dismissed the notion. She would be fine. Although every hour was a struggle to be near him, she couldn't give in. It had to be this way, she silently insisted. It had to. She would just hurt him again, and Mimi would get caught in the middle. She glanced at the clock, then went back to work, determined to be finished before they landed.

  Inside the chopper, Kyle belted Mimi in, gave her his ball cap and adjusted the headset around her thick braids. "Ready?" he said into the mike.

  She gave him a thumbs-up. "You bet!" Her wide eyes scanned the dials and switches before she looked at him.

  That smile was going to split her face in half, Kyle thought, turning over the engine. The blade rotated faster, and she crooked her head to watch, then looked downward as they lifted off.

  "Cool!"

  She wasn't the least bit afraid, and he admired that, but then, kids didn't know what real fear was at that age. Hell, he didn't until he'd felt his first enemy bullet whiz past his ear, miss him and kill the man beside him. Still, Kyle didn't know what to think of Mimi. Yet every time she spoke, every time she grabbed his hand and dragged him along to show him her doll collection or her turtles, Christine and Louise, his heart smiled. He was fascinated by her, the adult way she talked, her uncanny logic and blunt speech. Yet when he looked at this little girl, in the recesses of his mind, he wanted her to be his—even thought about it a half dozen times but Maxie had used birth control and all his mind could muster was seeing her and the faceless man she'd given herself to after abandoning him.

  He shook off the thought and let the chopper gain altitude.

  Mimi shrieked happily.

  "You okay, short stack? Too high?"

&n
bsp; "Nah. Go higher!" He did, smiling at her bubbling description of the ground below. "How does it work, Mr. Hayden?"

  Kyle glanced at his gauges, checking altitude and airspeed before looking at her. "How does what work?"

  She rolled her eyes. "The helicopter, silly. How does it get off the ground, straight up?"

  Inwardly Kyle groaned and spent the next twenty minutes fielding questions on aerodynamics so a child could understand.

  Twenty minutes later, Maxie was standing in the field when the chopper landed, and she could see Kyle hurrying to unstrap Mimi before she busted out of the chopper. The door opened, and her daughter raced toward her, launching into her arms.

  Her excitement was contagious. "That was so cool! You shoulda come along, Mom. Everything looks like toys! People waved to us, and Mr. Hayden rocked the chopper. That's saying hello in chopper talk."

  Maxie's lips twitched. "Chopper talk, huh?" Maxie set her down.

  "Yeah. And guess what?"

  "What?" She tried to sound excited when Kyle was standing a few feet away, his gaze boring into her.

  "Mr. Hayden let me fly the chopper! Wait'll I tell Dana!"

  Maxie's gaze flew to Kyle's. "You did what!"

  "Now, hold on, Max—"

  "When can I do it again, Mom? When?"

  Maxie looked down at Mimi and didn't want to crush the happiness in her eyes. "We'll talk about it later, okay?" Mimi's lips curled down, and Maxie smoothed her bangs back, touching her under her chin. "Why don't you go call Dana and tell her all about it?"

  Mimi nodded and looked back at Kyle. "Thanks, Mr. Hayden."

  He winked at her. "You're welcome, short stack. You make a great copilot."

  She beamed, then took off toward the house in a dead run.

  And Kyle knew he was a dead man. He could tell by the look on Maxie's face. "You let her fly?"

  He stopped inches from her, his hands on his hips, his expression sour. "Give me some credit, Max. I had control all the time. I'm not a complete fool, you know." Though why he didn't just grab this woman and kiss the anger right out of her was beyond him. "I let her put her hands on the stick for a couple minutes, that's all."

  Her skin colored. "Oh."

  "You really think I'd do something that stupid?"

  "Wed, no—"

  "But you're not convinced."

  Her chin lifted, her gaze clashing with his. "I know you. You love danger."

  Resentment rose to the surface. "No," he snapped. "You don't know me, Max. Seven years changed you, and it changed me, too. Eighteen months overseas showed me more danger and death than I needed for a lifetime." And the past few days showed him all he'd really lost.

  Her features tightened. Maxie couldn't imagine what he'd been through in the desert, but from the look in his eyes, it had scared him. "I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me. I know you'd never do anything to hurt her."

  He touched his finger along her jaw, and for an instant, her eyes flared. "Or you, Max."

  But you did hurt me, she thought, stepping back. You stopped loving me when all I wanted was to slow down. Instantly she called herself a whining pansy for even thinking that and stiffened her posture. He had to see she wasn't good for him. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Kyle. And what about you? Aren't you afraid of getting hurt? I did it to you once." She shrugged. "Hey, I could do it again."

  "Yeah." He rocked back on his heels. "I suppose you could." With this coldhearted Maxie, it was almost expected, Kyle thought.

  His blasé attitude annoyed her. "And that fact doesn't bother you? Warn you off?"

  He took a step closer. "This isn't a war to see who can hurt the other first, you know." His brows knitted. "I know you're thinking of Mimi all the time, and now so am I, but come on, Max, when are you going to step out from behind her and let your feelings go?"

  She wasn't going to deny the truth of his words. "I can't."

  "Why?" he asked, his gaze searching hers.

  Her shoulders drooped. "Because it's pointless."

  His anger flared. "Well, thanks a heap, Max. I can see I still mean nothing to you, except for maybe a little distraction in the back of a barn."

  She slapped him, hard.

  His gaze darkened.

  "How could you believe that?" Her voice broke.

  He threw his hands up. "For crying out loud, I can't believe anything else around you. One minute you're so wild in my arms it's as if time stood still, and the next, it's like talking to a wall."

  Maxie shored up the crack in her emotions. "Then don't try anymore. Okay?" She headed toward the barn. Kyle met her stride, and she could feel his gaze raking over her. She wasn't going to get into this with him. She couldn't, not after seeing him with Mimi. All afternoon she'd been remembering how much of his daughter's life he'd missed—her birth, her first steps, first words. Maxie never once questioned her decision not to go hunt him down and tell him about their child. In refusing her letters, her calls, he'd told her that she wasn't worth the effort anymore, that his love had quickly died, and she saw no reason to reopen a wound then. Loving her daughter had gotten Maxie through the worst pain of her life. Yet seeing them together made her question her choices. Why was she dredging this up now, she thought, reaching for a bridle. It was too far gone to revive.

  From close behind her, she heard his soft whisper. "Mimi is six, I asked her."

  Maxie bowed her head, refusing to face him. "Damn you for questioning her!"

  "You know what that means to me?" Maxie's heart jerked up to her throat. "For a split second I thought she was mine. But she couldn't be. We'd been making love for over a year, and you were on the Pill then," Kyle said. She heard him inhale a shaky breath. "The hard truth is that while I was knee-deep in sand and dodging bullets, you were giving to a stranger what you promised to only me." His voice wavered and his hoarse whisper revealed every fraction of his pain. "And for the rest of my life, Max, I'll wish it wasn't true."

  He brushed past her, out of the barn, and Maxie stared, brushing the tears from her cheeks. Oh, Kyle. What have I done?

  * * *

  Eight

  « ^ »

  Kyle had taken about twenty steps when he stopped, turning and covering the distance to where she stood on the threshold of the barn's open double doors.

  Maxie back-stepped, and Kyle drew on sheer will to ignore her tears, her stricken look, and ask, "You married this Davis guy because you were pregnant." It was more of a statement than a question.

  Lord, how it stung that he thought she'd turned into a bed-hopping tramp after leaving him. Maxie wanted to wound him back. "My daughter was two when I married Carl."

  His eyes rounded. Davis wasn't Mimi's father! Good God, she'd been unmarried until four years ago. Kyle yanked her inside the privacy of the barn. "Why did you let me believe otherwise?"

  "Gee, Kyle," came acidly. "I don't know—maybe because you were so receptive to the idea that I even had a child!"

  Kyle flushed, ashamed. He'd kept her from telling him the truth with his attitude.

  "You were on the Pill," he said.

  "I forgot to take one! It happens."

  "Why'd the marriage end?" he said softly.

  Still steaming, Maxie folded her arms over her middle and glared at him. The chill radiating from her was worse than the one outside. "He cheated on me three weeks after the wedding. I kicked him out. Satisfied?"

  His brows tightened. "You think I like that you got hurt?"

  "Would be justice, wouldn't it? I hurt you, then I get hurt." She shrugged, bitterness in her tone. "Actually I wasn't that upset for myself, but for Mimi."

  Kyle hated to think of sweet Mimi being hurt like that and he wanted to smash something. "Did you love him?"

  "No."

  His scowl deepened. "You say that so easily." And coldly, he thought.

  "It's the truth. He was nonthreatening. I don't even know why I married him." Her gaze thinned on him. "Maybe because I thought it was my last chance at
what I wanted. Or he was the first man to accept my daughter without a ton of questions and accusations." Her shoulders moved restlessly, and her voice softened. "I still don't know what he had in mind, keeping me and a mistress, but I think I married more for comfort than emotion."

  "You couldn't marry me for love and passion, but this jerk," he exploded, "you married for simple companionship!"

  "Don't you dare yell at me, Kyle Hayden," she snapped. "And why do you want to know all this—why are you prying into my past?"

  His voice was a dark growl. "Because I still have feelings for you, Max, and I feel betrayed every time I look at you and your daughter together."

  Her eyes narrowed. She knew there was nothing left for them if he couldn't accept her past. "Too bad. Get over it."

  His expression fell. "God knows I'm trying, but damn, Max." He moved away and paced, rubbing the back of his neck. "It still tears at me to know you got over me so quickly—" he paused and faced her down "—when it took months for me to even think of you without feeling pain."

  She went incredibly still. How could he believe that? How could he stare her in the eye and not see that she never got over him? It hurt deeply that he thought her so shallow. But he needed to see her life from her perspective, without revealing her secrets.

  "How I got over you isn't the problem, Kyle. It's whose genes Mimi has that upsets you," she said up in his face. "Don't sweat it. She's mine. Her father doesn't know Mimi exists. I tried to tell him, but he wasn't interested in anything to do with me. Ever again. He chose to cut me out. And he cut his child out of his life, too." Her voice wavered, the agony of needing him then, of loving him so much and knowing he'd never come back, rushed through her with a force that threatened her breathing, yet bravely she held his gaze. "So I had my baby alone, and we made it work together. We were better off without him, anyway."

  "Are you, Max?" Her gaze narrowed. "Are you better off?" She looked away, and he caught her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Have you closed yourself off to everyone, or is it just me?" She stared blandly back, her lips pressed tight, and Kyle felt helpless. So what held her back? What kept her from just telling him what she was even feeling? For one horrible second, he thought that it was him she was talking about. An instant later he dismissed it. She wouldn't lie about a thing like that. "Living like a recluse isn't protecting your little girl, Max—it's protecting you. And this closed-hearted attitude is going to affect her."