“You’re welcome.” Kyle thought of adding My pleasure again but restrained himself. He didn’t want anyone, especially Rachel Fielding, making too much of his efforts. He’d have done the same for any of his techs. It just so happened that this particular airman was beginning to seem special, which was no problem as long as he didn’t break regulations and try to date her. The rules against officers and enlisted personnel getting together for romance had never concerned him before.
“And they don’t bother me now,” he told himself firmly as he drove toward the BX, base exchange, to go shopping for Natalie. There were good reasons for strictness in regard to separation of ranks. Promotions were earned on merit, not based on who an airman knew or who their family happened to be. Every new enlistee was tested and placed according to skills and aptitude. He, for instance, would have made a lousy pilot because of a childhood injury to his inner ear and thus his balance.
Maybe that was why he’d empathized so readily with Rachel and her sister, Kyle reasoned. It had been a long time since he’d thought about the fights his younger brother, Dave, used to get into. And even longer since he’d remembered being injured sticking up for him. Their older sister, Gloria, had already left home by that time and neither of the boys had told their parents about the beatings Kyle had taken defending Dave. Not that it mattered anymore. Gloria was stationed overseas in the army, and Dave had cut all ties after their parents had relocated to Florida. In a way, his family was no closer than Rachel’s had been. He’d hoped to change that pattern with Sue and Wendy until their lives had been snatched away so unfairly.
Mad at himself for allowing such maudlin thoughts, Kyle pulled into the parking lot of the base exchange, climbed out and slammed the door. Cold wind hit him in the face. He zipped his jacket and wished he’d thought to bring a hat. To say he was out of sorts was an understatement. This was just the beginning. Now he was going to have to look at children’s clothing and that would make him think about how precious his daughter had been.
The mall entrance was festooned with garlands and blinking colored lights. Christmas. A season that was supposed to make him feel joyous. Peaceful. Loved.
He clenched his jaw. Love was overrated. So was the holiday. Oh, he respected the spiritual aspects of it: the celebration of the coming of the Savior. It was the ho-ho-ho and all the other folderol that he could do without.
Electronic doors slid open. Kyle stomped in. As long as nobody wished him a Merry Christmas he could probably get through this task without too much trouble.
He went straight to the children’s-clothing section, then paused in front of a display of warm coats. His Wendy had had a red one a lot like this, with a fake-fur collar and white earmuffs to match. No way could he bring himself to buy that same outfit.
Mumbling to himself, he turned away to look elsewhere. His gut was in knots and he was beginning to perspire. Four long years had passed since his family had been wiped out.
It wasn’t supposed to hurt this much anymore.
FIVE
Rachel’s bravado faded as she surveyed her apartment and considered her new responsibility. What should she do first? What did kids need? “Are you hungry, Natalie? I’m sure I have the makings of a grilled-cheese sandwich.”
The shy child nodded.
“Would you rather have something else?”
“Ice cream.”
Rachel smiled. “Of course. Silly me. Tell you what. Let me make you something regular to eat and then we’ll talk about dessert. Okay?”
Another nod.
“Besides, didn’t you have ice cream with Maria and Kyle?”
“Uh-huh.” She brightened. “He got me two scoops.”
“Wow, that’s great.”
“Is he coming back?”
“Of course he is.”
“Really truly?”
“Honest.” Rachel dropped into a crouch and cupped Natalie’s thin shoulders. “Oh, you feel chilly. Would you like to wear one of my sweaters?”
“I had a sweater. A pink one. It’s ruined.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” She stood and held out a hand. “Come on. Let’s go look in my room and pick out something you like. It’ll be big but warm.”
Tears filled the wide blue eyes and Rachel imagined looking into Angela’s. “I promise I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart.”
“I miss Mommy.”
Scooping the little girl up, Rachel held her tight and bit back her own sorrow. “I do, too, honey. I do, too.”
Natalie’s thin arms encircled Rachel’s neck. “I’m scared.”
“Don’t be scared. I’ll look after you.”
“Peter’s mean.”
Rachel started to carry Natalie toward the bedroom. “I know. But you’re safe here with me. I have lots of friends like Kyle and a whole bunch of wonderful dogs that will protect us both.”
“You do?”
“Uh-huh. As soon as Captain Roark—Kyle—gets back, maybe we can go visit the kennels. There’s one special dog who’s a tripod. I know you’ll like him.”
“What’s a tripod?”
“That means he only has three legs. Stryker is very brave. He was hurt so he got to come home to get better. Kyle is a doctor who fixes injured animals, and he’s helping Stryker get well.”
“Was he beated like Mommy?”
Rachel pulled the thin body closer to offer more comfort as she said, “No. Not like Mommy. Stryker was in a war a long way away when he got hurt.”
The child’s voice was thin and reedy when she asked, “Is he gonna die, too?”
“No, baby, no. Stryker is getting better. He’s going to be fine. We just have to teach him to walk with a new leg called a prosthesis. But he doesn’t have to go back and fight anymore.”
“Is he mean?”
“Not at all. You don’t have to worry. I won’t let you play with any dogs I think are dangerous.”
“I wish he was mean,” Natalie said. “I’d tell him to go bite Peter real, real hard.” With that, she buried her face against Rachel’s shoulder.
There was nothing appropriate for rebuttal. Anger was a part of grieving, as was sorrow. Just because Natalie was a five-year-old didn’t mean she wouldn’t have the same feelings of bereavement that adults suffered. Healing of her wounded spirit would take a while.
For the first time, Rachel realized that she and her niece were probably both suffering from a form of post-traumatic stress. If she understood anything, she understood that. Medical professionals used to refer to it as a disorder, hence the initials PTSD. Recently, however, many had begun to see it as more of a syndrome. Semantics aside, she thought it was better to keep from saddling sufferers with a label. Some found post-traumatic stress had to be fought daily. In others, it eventually subsided enough for the patients to carry on normal lives.
Would she ever get over losing her sister? Rachel wondered. Yes, and no. Angela had been a part of her life that she’d never forget. As with the loss of their parents, there would be confusion and undeserved guilt until she was able to accept the inevitable. The same went for Natalie.
Except now they had each other. If that wasn’t enough, she’d arrange for counseling. Whatever she had to do, she’d do. There was no maybe about it. She who had despaired of ever having a family had just become an instant mother. And the responsibility scared her witless.
* * *
As Kyle had hoped, he didn’t encounter anyone from the K-9 unit before he got the child’s clothing to his car. He didn’t want to have to explain that he had special permission from Lieutenant General Hall to spend so much off-duty time with an enlisted airman. Besides, the next few days and weeks were going to be critical for Rachel and her niece and they didn’t need more trouble. If Peter chose to go to the police and claim abduction, as a normal father would, Rachel could end up in jail and the child sent to
foster care despite all their efforts.
Kyle huffed, realizing he was almost glad VanHoven was the kind of person likely to avoid the cops. Except that meant he’d be more apt to act on his own, meaning he’d do whatever it took to get even with Rachel and reclaim his daughter. Kyle could actually identify. He’d have done anything to get Wendy back.
He slammed a fist against the steering wheel. “Stop it. Just stop it. They’re gone. Get over it.”
That was impossible, of course. During the past four years he had mellowed and stopped experiencing sharp pangs of grief that stopped him in his tracks. But the ache lingered. Being mixed up in Rachel Fielding’s dilemma was sure not helping, particularly so near to Christmas.
As he climbed out of the SUV with his purchases, he steeled himself for what he was about to face. A moment’s pause was enough for “Father God. Why me? And why now?” Yes, he wanted to be released from the responsibility he felt. And yes, he was ashamed of himself. That didn’t keep him from asking.
Sighing, he knocked on Rachel’s door. There was no answer. He tried the knob. The door was locked. “Rachel?”
No reply.
Kyle raised his voice. “Rachel! Open up. Let me in.”
Still no one called back to him. He dropped the plastic shopping bags, grabbed his cell phone and dialed the private number she’d given him on the way to the hospital.
Instead of the voice on the phone he’d expected, he heard a tentative response through the locked door. “Kyle?”
“Yes. It’s me.”
“Prove it. What’s your rank?”
“Captain. What’s going on?”
She threw open the door, grabbed his sleeve and tried to yank him inside before he had a chance to gather up his purchases. Her eyes were so wide they looked surreal. He brought everything in and closed the door. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“It’s been ringing, but nobody is ever there when I say hello.”
Kyle heard the ringing again and took the phone from her, not saying anything when he answered. Just as he was about to hang up, a gruff voice said, “You’ll be sorry, Rachel,” then abruptly broke the connection.
“Was that him? Was it Peter?”
“I assume so, yes.”
“What—what did he say?”
“Nothing earth shattering. Just that you’d be sorry.”
With a gasp, she was in Kyle’s arms before he had a chance to give her back her phone. Not only that—Natalie had grabbed onto his knee and was hanging on as if he were her only lifeline from a sinking ship. “Easy, easy,” Kyle said. “Don’t panic. He probably got your number from somebody at the hospital.”
“No.” Speaking with her cheek pressed to his shoulder, Rachel was trembling. “The hospital called the base, not me. Remember? My cell is unlisted. On purpose.”
He turned her, encircling her shoulder with one arm after he’d picked up the little girl with the other. “Then he must have gotten it from your sister’s old phone. How long has it been since you changed your number?”
“I—I kept it the same so Angie could reach me.”
He felt some of the tension leaving her, so he gestured to the sofa. “Sit down and take a deep breath. Empty threats can’t hurt you.”
“I know Peter, okay? There’s nothing empty about his threats.”
“Okay. I believe you. Now, think. If he’d been able to get on base he would have shown up, not called you. Right?”
“I guess.”
“So, he’s a nasty piece of work but you’re safe here.”
“If you say so.”
“You don’t sound convinced. Tell you what. How about we go get Stryker and see how he does bunking with you? He’s been introduced to some of the older children at the base day care and there was no problem, plus you’ve bonded well. You’ll just need to keep an eye on Natalie to make sure she’s not too hard on him.”
“The doggie Aunt Rachel told me about?” Natalie was almost smiling, something Kyle had not seen her do before.
He crouched in front of the sofa. “That’s right. He’s kind of big but he’s very nice. And he’ll bark if anything is wrong so you won’t have to be scared when he’s being quiet. How does that sound?”
“Maria has a kitty. She scratches.”
“Stryker won’t scratch you. But you will have to be careful to not bump his shoulder. It’s still a little sore.”
“He got hurted, huh?”
“He did. But I fixed him.”
The child’s smile faded. “I wish you could fix my mommy.”
Kyle nodded as his heart broke for her. “I wish I could, too, honey. But sometimes, no matter how hard we try, we can’t fix everything.”
“That’s what Maria said when we prayed. I guess God is mad at me.”
Rachel spoke up and drew her closer. “No, honey, no. God isn’t mad at you. He loves you.”
Cuddling against her, Natalie whispered, “I love you, too.”
The child’s voice was soft, gentle and full of trust. Just the way Wendy’s used to be, Kyle thought. Children loved without reason or argument. They simply opened up and let it flow.
There was a time when he’d believed his heart had done the same, but those days were over. As a sensible adult he realized that love was far too complex, hard to find and impossible to hang on to. All it did was leave behind painful scars. That was why he’d had no trouble remaining single. No trouble at all.
Sensing that Rachel was staring at him, he stood and turned away. Whatever clues she thought she’d seen on his face were his business, not hers. The sooner he could get in touch with an attorney and set up her defense for taking the child the way she had, the sooner he’d be able to back off and resume their former employer-employee relationship. Yes, he had permission to help her, but he knew he’d be in hot water if the general suspected they were on the verge of becoming romantically involved, as well. Too bad she wasn’t also an officer.
That thought struck Kyle a blow that nearly staggered him. If Rachel were an officer, then she and he could date openly. Or more. What in the world was the matter with him? Was he crazy? He hadn’t thought about dating anybody in years. Oh, he wasn’t brain-dead. He still noticed attractive women. But that didn’t mean he made any moves to court them.
The difference was the child-mother scenario. It had to be. He was merely equating Rachel and Natalie with the loved ones he’d lost so tragically. Those memories must be coloring his current emotions and throwing off his logic. If he intended to stay in the air force he’d better get a handle on those rampant emotions before he risked his rank and maybe his entire career.
Once in a while there were exceptions made, of course. Even strict rules could be broken with proper permission, such as that which he was currently operating under. It was the possible consequences of carrying things too far that concerned him. And speaking of concerns, there were more immediate ones that needed seeing to.
“I’ll leave you two to try on the new clothes,” he said flatly, turning to her. “I’ll go to the office and do preliminary paperwork on Stryker, then bring him back with me.” He started for the door. “Lock everything behind me.”
Pausing with his hand on the knob, he added, “And the next time I call you, check the number that comes up on your screen and answer, will you? I almost kicked your door in.”
“I don’t think I have your cell number,” she said, grabbing her phone to page through the contacts file.
He was back to her in three long strides, helped himself to her cell phone and entered his number. “You do now. We’ll need to see if we can pull Peter’s number off incoming call records when I get back, so don’t erase anything.”
Rachel stood, her spine straight, her eyes narrowing. “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me today but despite the mess I happen to be in, I�
��m not clueless. I took care of myself just fine until Peter showed up and fooled my sister, and I’ve gotten plenty of commendations for my work in the air force. Don’t sell me short. Okay?”
Despite her anger he found himself wanting to smile. With a curt nod he turned away and said, “That’s more like it.”
* * *
Shocked by Kyle’s response, Rachel stared at the closing door for a few moments, then hurried to double lock it. When she started back to Natalie she found the child curled into a fetal position on the sofa. Her little arms were pulled in, her hands poking out of the rolled-up sleeves of the bulky borrowed sweater and shielding her head and face. Clearly, that was her typical reaction to adult dissension.
She flinched as Rachel approached and perched on the edge of the cushions next to her. “You don’t have to be scared, honey. I’m not mad at you. Neither is Kyle.”
When there was no tangible response Rachel began to gently stroke the thin back through the cable knit. “I’m so sorry, Natalie. I didn’t mean to sound upset. I just wanted Kyle to stop babying me.”
“He—he’s nice,” the little girl whispered.
“Yes, he is. And I shouldn’t have lost my temper with him. I’m sorry for that, too.”
“He’ll be mad when he comes back.”
“No, he won’t. He’s not like Peter, I promise. And in a lot of ways, I’m not like your mama, either. She let Peter hurt her. I left when he started to hurt me. We don’t have to let anybody hurt us. Ever. We can always tell someone, like you probably told Maria. Right?”
A slight nod.
“See? There are lots of nice, friendly people who will be glad to help you if you ask them.”
In the back of her mind, Rachel realized she was preparing Natalie for the possibility of being put in foster care, at least temporarily. The more she pondered her dilemma, the more she realized she had few good options. What she’d done at the hospital had been necessary for personal protection and to safeguard the innocent child. What she would have to face in the future to continue doing the same thing was not going to be nearly that easy.
Military K-9 Unit Christmas: Christmas Escape ; Yuletide Target Page 4
