The Soldier and the Single Mom

by Lee Tobin McClain

  “No. I want you to take afternoons off like you’re supposed to and go work on your sister’s guesthouse. Why are you even here, come to think of it?”

  Buck shrugged. “I meant to, but...”

  “But what? What’s going on?”

  Buck blew out a sigh. He’d told himself he was needed here, but the truth was more complicated.

  “Avoiding Gina and Bobby?” Troy sat down in the rolling chair and crossed his arms.

  “Might be.” Of course he was. He’d convinced his sister to give the new situation with Gina a try, and now he wasn’t sure it had been the right thing.

  “How come? You gotta deal with stuff, man, not let it slip under the rug.”

  And this was the bad thing about working for Troy: he was a little too insightful. “She’s kicking up some memories, and not just for Lacey.”

  “Go home,” Troy ordered.

  “You’re sure—”

  “I’m sure.”

  * * *

  So that was how, the next morning, Buck found himself just outside a smallish bedroom, listening to Bobby’s baby chatter and Gina’s murmurs.

  He was almost wishing he hadn’t talked Lacey into allowing Gina to stay and help. “Until the Freedom Festival and not a moment longer,” Lacey had said.

  Even that amount of time might be too long.

  He, Lacey and Gina had talked last night, figuring out a plan. Lacey would open half of the house for the Freedom Festival, so people could see the progress and get excited about coming to stay, and then work on the rest of the house throughout the summer and possibly into the fall.

  And right now, his role was to work afternoons—and possibly evenings—with Gina to finish the three rooms. Mornings, when he was working at the clinic, she’d be figuring out the historical-landmark paperwork and setting up a website to publicize the guesthouse.

  Bobby was on hands and knees next to a table Gina had set up in the middle of the room. As Buck watched, the sturdy baby grabbed the leg of the table, hauled himself to his feet and then fell right back down on his diaper-clad behind. Undaunted, he reached for the table leg and began to repeat the process.

  Gina bent over a book that lay open on the table. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and looked from the book to a can of something—paint, maybe—and then back at the book again.

  Man, she’s pretty. Buck’s heart kicked up to a faster rate. Ignoring that, he tapped on the door frame.

  “Hey.” Gina smiled when she saw him, eyes sparkling, and his heart rate jumped up another notch. “I thought we’d start with the simplest project,” she said. “Come see what I...I mean, we...have planned.”

  Calm down, buddy—she’s not for you. He walked into the room, deliberately not focusing on Gina.

  It was a corner bedroom with windows on two sides, and Gina had opened them. Birds chittered madly outside and a fresh breeze cooled his face.

  “It’s a little chilly in here, but I figure we’ll get warm as we work. I like having the windows open, because we’re going to be using primer today and I don’t like him breathing it.” She looked down at Bobby, her face curving into a smile, and Buck realized that the baby had pulled himself up again and stood, banging on the table leg, grinning.

  “The fresh air is no problem. If you want to work on filling nail holes and doing repairs, I can do the priming in a different room from where you and Bobby are.”

  “I’ve already done that. And I cleaned the walls. So now, it’s down to whether you prefer doing the edges with a brush or rolling.” She held up a paintbrush and roller.

  “Rolling is more fun for sure, but let’s both work on the edges a little. That takes twice as long.”

  “Great.”

  While Buck opened two cans of primer and stirred them up, Gina brought out a pack-and-play. She put Bobby inside, along with a stack of plastic blocks and vinyl-covered books. “That’ll keep him for a while, and when he gets bored, maybe he’ll take a little nap.” Gina bit her lip, her forehead wrinkling.

  “You’re short of toys for him.”

  She shrugged. “He’s used to having a lot more stuff to entertain him, but it’s okay. It’ll develop his imagination.”

  “I know where you can get a bunch of baby stuff, free.” He hadn’t known he was going to offer until it happened, and the moment the words were out of his mouth, he regretted it.

  Her forehead smoothed out. “I would love it, if you’re serious. It’s a challenge to entertain an active baby in the workplace.”

  “You’ve been doing fine.” Maybe she’d decide she didn’t want the loan.

  “I’m fortunate that Susan Hayashi brought over the pack-and-play and a few toys. Apparently, they belonged to her fiancé and were just stored in his basement.”

  “I’m sure Sam Hinton had nothing but the best for Mindy. He’s a pretty wealthy guy.” But Buck didn’t envy the CEO of Hinton Enterprises for his millions. The man had lost his wife and had struggled for a couple of years to deal with issues related to his daughter’s disability and reaction to losing her mother. He’d only recently started looking happy and energetic again, since Susan Hayashi had come into his life last summer.

  “So, where’s this cache of baby toys?” she asked as she turned on the radio. “Is it your old stuff? GI Joes?”

  “No...though I did have my share of those, and don’t you dare call them dolls.” He was hoping to distract her, and it worked.

  “You grew up here in Rescue River, right? What did your parents do?”

  Buck dipped his brush and started to paint a careful edge, finding the meticulous work soothing. “Yeah. Dad sold cars and Mom...” He paused, thinking how to explain it. “Mom taught piano when she could.”

  “Sounds like a story.” Gina knelt to apply primer around a window frame.

  “Yeah.” Buck let out a mirthless chuckle. “It’s a real old story. When Lacey and I were little, she just had a couple of cocktails before dinner. By the time we were teenagers, it was pills to get going in the morning and wine with lunch.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Gina glanced his way, compassion in her eyes, and shook her head. “That’s so hard to deal with.”

  “Your husband had similar issues, right?”

  She nodded, but didn’t bite at the change of subject. “Is your mom still living?”

  “No. Died when I was twenty-one.” He was so used to saying it that he felt just a twinge of sadness, nothing more. Mom had been too talented for a small town, and too East Coast for Ohio, and actually, she’d been absent to him and Lacey for several years before her death.

  The quick squeeze of his shoulder surprised him. “I’m sorry for your loss. And for having to grow up that way.”

  Quickly, Buck shook his head. “It wasn’t like that. Lacey and I were blessed. Dad’s a great guy. Everyone in town loved him. And his parents—my gram and gramps—they filled in the gaps when Mom wasn’t doing well. It was hard on Lacey, not having a mom who could help her with the girl things. But for me, it was a real good childhood.”

  “So how come you started drinking?”

  Just like that, Buck’s easy mood shattered into pieces. Bobby was standing in the pack-and-play, waving his arms, and Buck put down his brush and went over to pick the boy up, craving the comfort. “Drank a little during the war. And a lot after. It would’ve taken a better man than I am to do two tours in Afghanistan without drinking.”

  She nodded, moving over to the next window frame and running the paintbrush along it with easy skill.

  The fact that she wasn’t looking at him, and the comfortable feel of Bobby in his arms, made him go on. “Got worse when I lost my wife and child. They say there’s a genetic factor with alcoholism, and it looks like I inherited it.” Gently, he set Bobby down in the playpen and, when
the boy started to fuss, located his binky and popped it into his mouth. Then he pulled out the stepladder that had been lying along one wall and set it up. “What about you? Did you grow up in California?”

  “Yes. Sacramento.”

  “What do your parents do?” He wondered why she hadn’t gone to them when she’d had the trouble with her in-laws.

  “I never knew my mom,” she said. “And Dad...well, he’s got his own life. He’s homesteading in Alaska with a group of friends. Kind of a back-to-nature thing.”

  She said it carelessly, similar to the way Buck talked about his own mother. “I didn’t think homesteading even existed anymore.”

  “It doesn’t, not the way it used to be, land for work. They’re subsistence farming on public land. No electricity, no cell phones... It’s pretty basic.”

  “Does he know you’re in trouble? Can he help you?”

  Gina just shook her head a little, a smile curving her lips. “Dad’s not the type to rush in and save his daughter. He’s a dreamer, always broke. I’m actually just glad he’s got these friends to stay with. That way, I don’t have to worry about him.”

  Interesting. Gina was in a tight spot herself, but she talked about her father like the man was another child, not someone she could turn to. “Have you been up there to visit?” He was wondering if it would be a viable place for Gina to go and stay with Bobby for a while. She seemed to want to hide.

  The thought of her leaving Rescue River, though, put a very alarming pressure on his heart.

  “I surprised him on his fiftieth birthday. Took a bunch of books and supplies. It was kind of fun.”

  “What was it like?” For whatever reason, he wanted to keep her talking. Her voice was low for a woman, a little husky, and the sound of it sent a pleasant sensation rippling down his spine.

  “Well, fishing for our dinner was an adventure. And hauling water really is good exercise.” She flexed her arm, making a muscle, and tossed a saucy grin his way.

  The air whooshed out of his lungs. She was, quite literally, breathtaking when she smiled that funny, relaxed smile.

  “But there was a downside.” She wrinkled her nose. “I really prefer indoor plumbing, especially when it’s cold outside.”

  “I can imagine. And it doesn’t sound like a good place for a baby.”

  “No. I never even considered it.” Gina stretched her back and shoulders, flipped her ponytail and returned to work.

  Which Buck needed to do, too. He didn’t need to think about how lively and pretty Gina was, how her attitude toward what sounded like a pretty neglectful dad wasn’t bitter. How she saw the humor in a situation that some would have resented.

  Bobby had been pulling himself up at the edge of the pack-and-play, and now he started to climb. He fell back and immediately tried again.

  “It’s just a matter of time until he figures out how to escape,” Gina said, watching him. “If you were serious about finding him some other toys, sooner might be better than later.”

  “Um, sure.” Be a man, he told himself. But dread filled his heart.

  Chapter Six

  Buck really, really didn’t want to do this.

  And if he had to visit the place he’d avoided for a year and a half, he didn’t want an audience. “Are you sure you want to come along? I can do it myself,” he offered again as his stomach knotted tight.

  “No, it’s fine. I’d like to come. I know what kind of stuff Bobby likes, and if he has an outing now, he’ll settle down better later on. We haven’t gotten out much since I sent away my SUV.” She was fastening Bobby into his car seat as she talked. Then she climbed into the passenger seat of the truck.

  Which left Buck no choice but to get in and drive. He turned on the radio so he wouldn’t have to talk.

  All too soon, they approached the little cottage, set back from the road with a big grassy yard, a garden on one side. He looked away from the house and the memories.

  Tightening his jaw, he drove down the rutted driveway to the garage, took his time about turning the truck around so it would be easy to load things into the back.

  Then he couldn’t postpone getting out any longer, so he cut the engine and opened the door.

  The sound of the rushing creek and chirping birds filled his ears, and the smell of earth rose up to him. He couldn’t help but glance at the garden, notice it was turned over. The tenant must be eager to get to gardening.

  Like Ivana had always been.

  “Who lives here?” Gina asked as she freed Bobby from his car seat and set him down, holding his hands so he could toddle. “See the bird?” she asked, kneeling and pointing to a robin that was hopping through the shining green grass.

  “A single mom,” he said noncommittally. “Couple of kids, I think.”

  “Don’t you have to talk to her first?”

  He paused, hand on the garage door handle. “It’s my place. She rents the house, but not the garage.”

  He didn’t look at her, but he heard her soft “oh.”

  The sooner he raised the garage door, the sooner he could get done and get out of here. “It’s a mess,” he warned and slid the door open.

  He stared at the ground for a minute, not wanting to look. Not wanting to kick up the memories of the day when he’d cleaned out their house, alone, in a drunk frenzy of pain. He felt ashamed, now, of how he’d thrown everything in here. He’d probably broken some stuff that would have been perfectly useful to someone in need.

  “It’s actually kind of neat.” Gina walked past him to stand in the doorway of the garage, squinting to see, and he looked up and realized she was right. Toys were stacked along one wall, alongside some labeled boxes. Furniture and more boxes lined the rest of the garage.

  There was a sound behind them, and they both turned. A pretty redhead stood there with a couple of kids behind her, one probably first grade, the other littler, maybe three. “Hi, I’m Cassie. And you must be Buck Armstrong? I hope you don’t mind. Your sister and I straightened everything out a couple of months after I moved in. We were afraid it was a fire hazard.”

  “It’s fine.” He introduced himself and Gina, welcoming the distraction. Then Gina introduced Bobby and showed him to the little kids, doing that instant bonding thing women—especially women with kids—were so good at doing.

  Ivana hadn’t been that good at it, and she’d complained about feeling left out at the playground and swimming pool. It was part of the reason they’d chosen to live out here: she’d been more of a loner.

  “Would you like me to take Bobby into the backyard for a little bit, so you can focus?” Cassie asked. “It’s fenced in and we have some fun climbing toys.”

  “Um...” Gina hesitated, obviously reluctant to leave Bobby with a stranger. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

  “Just bring him over if you’d like.” Cassie started walking back toward the play area in the backyard, surrounded by a white picket fence.

  He’d put in that fence himself, so Mia could play safely as she grew.

  He clenched a fist and forced that thought away. “She’s safe. A nice lady. Lacey checked her references.”

  “It would be so good for Bobby to be able to climb and play with her kids. And I can watch him from here... Okay. I’ll be right back.”

  Grimly, Buck strode into the garage and pulled out the two biggest boxes labeled Toys. He was going back in for more when Gina returned. “Go ahead and look through the boxes,” he said as he pulled out a high chair. Mia’s high chair. He put it down and turned to Gina. “Take whatever you think he’d like. We should do this quick.”

  She glanced up at him speculatively. “Look, I didn’t realize... I totally understand if—”

  “It’s fine.” It had been almost three years. He could deal with this. To prove it,
he knelt beside the nearest box and started pulling stuff out randomly.

  There were some toys he didn’t even remember, a shape-sorter thing full of triangles and squares, a little phone, some dolls. Stuff that looked new. Gifts, probably, meant for when Mia got older.

  Gina pulled an empty box out of the truck and sat down beside him on the grass. She started inspecting the toys he’d gotten out, murmuring almost to herself. “This one’s got some little parts—better not take that. But he’d love that light-up ball. He doesn’t play with dolls, not yet, but I think it’s fine for boys to play with dolls. Maybe if there’s a boy one...”

  Her words soothed him. He was doing fine. He was handling this.

  He pulled out a bucket and shovel, and an image of the week they’d spent at the beach came back to him. Sitting with Mia in the sand, showing her how to dig, watching her giggle as the water touched her toes. Ivana hurrying over with an umbrella, scolding him, but mildly. They’d gotten along great that week.

  “Go ahead and take anything.” He got up quickly and walked back into the dark garage.

  He found the ExerSaucer he’d had in mind when he’d first proposed this harebrained idea. Beside it was a little seat on cables, and he remembered that it was a door jumper Mia had loved. He swallowed and grabbed that, too.

  As he came out of the garage into the sunlight, Gina looked his way and her eyes lit up. “Oh, wow, that’d be so great if we could borrow the ExerSaucer!”

  This was worth it, to see that happiness in her eyes, to find a way to lighten her burden.

  And then he saw what she had in her hand.

  Mia’s pink elephant. Her lovey. The toy she’d slept with every night and nap time. She’d just started insisting that they take it everywhere, a new phase, when she and Ivana had disappeared that last, fateful time. When he’d seen it lying on the couch, he’d figured they’d be right back, had stopped worrying about them.

  Mia hadn’t even had her lovey in those scary, horrible final moments.

  Without realizing he’d moved, he had the elephant in his hands. He turned it over to look at the toe she’d always sucked on. Held the slightly dirty-looking creature to his face.