A Mother's Claim

by Janice Kay Johnson

  * * *

  IN THE KITCHEN, Nolan flattened both hands on the wall and let his head fall forward. Damn it. He didn’t let his temper loose often. He’d come a lot closer than he liked just now. He had no idea whether he’d handled that well, in a way a boy could respect, or whether he’d screwed up royally.

  Or whether the call he was about to make would be a monster mistake.

  Dana’s “Hello” was careful. As it so often was, and for good reason.

  “It’s Nolan,” he said. “I’m sorry—”

  She cut him off. “No. You’re not responsible for how he responds to me.” Pause, and then more slowly, “At least, I hope not.”

  Her implication that he was influencing Christian against her should have made him mad, but it didn’t. How could she not wonder, especially given this week’s backsliding on Christian’s part?

  “You and I have a deal. I’m doing my best to uphold my end.”

  He strained for any sound in the long silence, even a breath.

  “Thank you,” she said then, so softly he barely heard.

  “Ah... Is there any chance you’d like to hang out with us at Wind & Waves again? Say, Sunday?” That would give him a day to prepare his bratty—and, yes, wounded and bewildered—kid.

  “Is this another invitation from you and Christian?”

  Nolan winced at her dry tone. He hesitated a little too long.

  “I thought so. Thank you, but no. Good night, Nolan.”

  And, damn, she was gone. Nolan closed his eyes. Now what?

  * * *

  SHE’D MOWED HER own lawn.

  At a stop in front of Dana’s rental on Saturday evening, Nolan cranked the steering wheel to ensure his SUV didn’t roll down the steep hill before killing the engine.

  He gritted his teeth at the sight of the smooth, short grass. No, it wasn’t a big job, and, yes, she was in good physical condition. It was the principle of the thing that took a nibble out of his heart.

  What am I doing here?

  He didn’t have a good answer but grabbed the food he’d brought and got out, anyway. A moment later, he rang her doorbell. Waiting, he didn’t let himself glance toward the front window. If she peeked out and then decided to pretend she wasn’t home, he’d rather be left thinking she wasn’t here.

  But the door did open. Dana was scruffier than usual in faded jeans with grass stains around the hems, an old T-shirt that molded to her breasts and slim torso, and a blue bandanna that held back her hair. He liked her this way, just as he’d liked seeing her wet and wild-haired after helping out at Wind & Waves.

  It occurred to him that he probably looked a little ragged, too, since he hadn’t gone home to shower after work.

  She studied the bag in his hand before raising her gaze to meet his. “I take it this is in lieu of the fun time I was supposed to have with you and my son?”

  He grimaced. “You could say that.”

  “I did.” She sighed. “Fine.” And stood back.

  Doubting himself, he still stepped over the threshold. “I hope you haven’t eaten.”

  “No.” She led the way to the kitchen. “I suppose Christian is at the official birthday party for his ax-wielding friend.”

  “Yes, and spending the night.”

  “You sure there won’t be any bloodshed?”

  He chuckled. “Oh, yeah. Jason’s dad came down hard on the kid. I suspect he thinks about it every time he so much as picks up a pair of scissors.”

  “I suppose I ought to be grateful for what he did,” she said, sounding thoughtful. She opened the refrigerator. “What would you like to drink?”

  They both went for soda. As he opened the half-dozen takeout boxes of Chinese food, she brought plates, silverware and napkins to the table.

  “Why grateful?” Then he got it and winced. “Because otherwise we might not have known.”

  “It could have been years before he had reason to find out his blood type. And then, if he was an adult, he would have been unlikely to understand the significance.”

  “Do you ever have moments when you wish you hadn’t found him?” Nolan asked.

  She kept her head bent, as though deeply pondering whether she’d help herself to spicy pork with bell peppers or cashew chicken. When she finally looked up, she still hadn’t succeeded in burying all of her pain. Nolan had never seen eyes as expressive as hers.

  “No.” Her voice was small and husky. “No, never.”

  Throat thickening, he said, “I’m sorry.” He had to say that too often to her.

  She shook her head. It took everything he had to make himself stay on his side of the table. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to hold her. He even thought she needed to be held, but he was unlikely to be the man whose arms she would want around her. Not yet, anyway. He refused to believe he couldn’t change how she felt about him.

  Clear now and disconcertingly sharp, her eyes met his. “Why are you here?”

  “Because, once again, Christian was a shit to you.” At least this was partial honesty. “I understand his turmoil and I know you do, too. That doesn’t mean I can excuse the way he’s been acting. I damn near kept him home from Jason’s party, but...”

  When he hesitated, she finished, “Trying to compel him to be nice to me might have him digging in his heels even deeper.”

  “That’s what I figured.” Nolan nodded at the food. “It’s getting cold.”

  She started with a couple of spring rolls, and they ate in silence for a few minutes. “What will you do with him come summer?”

  “Encourage him to spend as much time as possible with me at work. He does teach some lessons, and a couple of his friends are as into windsurfing as he is, so they spend time out on the river.”

  In the act of dishing up sweet-and-sour prawns, Dana stopped with her hand suspended above the box. “Is that...safe?”

  “You mean him being out there without adult supervision?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “He doesn’t go alone. They always wear life vests.” Some rules, there was no give, and this was one of them. If he ever found out Christian left off the PFD, the kid wouldn’t be going out again. Period. “Weekends, nice summer days, there’s always a crowd out there. The locals and the regulars all know him. They keep an eye on each other, anyway. Is the sport a hundred percent safe? No, but what is?”

  She wrinkled her nose but didn’t argue.

  “A commuter driving the freeway to work in any major metropolitan area is probably in more danger than a skydiver or a BASE jumper,” he pointed out. “Never mind a windsurfer.”

  Dana lifted her eyebrows at that, and he smiled crookedly.

  “Okay, maybe not the BASE jumper.”

  “You haven’t done that, have you?”

  “Nope. Jumping out of airplanes, sure. It was part of the job.” He hesitated. “Not my favorite part.”

  Amusement softening her face, she said, “Bet you never said so then.”

  He smiled. “Big tough army ranger? Not a chance.”

  The ripple of her laughter stirred thoughts about what her fingers would feel like, touching him delicately. And not so delicately.

  Whatever his expression showed made her stare, humor gone and pupils dilating. They looked at each other for longer than was comfortable.

  She was the one to wrench her gaze away. He made himself take a bite and chew mechanically. Had he just scared her? Or had he seen a hint of yearning to match his?

  “Why did you go into the military?” she asked suddenly. “Was it a family tradition, or...?”

  Conversation. Not his strength, but he could do this.

  “Not family tradition, although my dad did serve in Vietnam. Involuntarily. He was drafted. Given his memories, Dad wasn’t hap
py with my decision.” Nolan had been too young then to understand that his parents would live in a state of suspended fear for months and years at a time when he was deployed. Waiting for that knock on the door, opening it to find an army chaplain in full uniform there to give them the worst news.

  “I can understand that,” Dana said, nodding. “I...have to admit I hope Christian won’t decide to follow in your footsteps, not that way.”

  Nolan hadn’t really thought about it before. Now that he did, he hoped the same. The only regrets he had about his military service were the impact on his parents and the years of Christian’s life he’d missed. He’d had good times and bad. Made lifelong friends. He was proud of his service. But modern warfare had gotten increasingly vicious, lacking any traditional battlefield or sense of decency and humanity. Soldiers in Iraq or Afghanistan never knew who carried a bomb, which stretch of road was mined, what shadow atop a roof hid a sniper. The stress was unrelenting. No, he didn’t want that for Christian.

  He told Dana so and, pushed by gentle questions from her, kept talking. He shared some of the good, told funny and heartwarming stories about his buddies, and even told her some of the bad—but not the worst. Not about the nightmarish moments that would never leave him.

  In turn, she told him her brother had been career army until he came back from his second deployment in Afghanistan and decided he’d had enough.

  “I don’t know if he has PTSD, exactly,” she said, “but he spent a lot of time alone in the mountains for a while. Soaking up the peace and grandeur, I guess.”

  “Needing to be free of noise and movement and the demands of other people.”

  “You...don’t wish you could have done the same?”

  He shook his head. “I’m a guy who needs a mission, I guess you could say. I tend to focus on a goal and not deviate. Sometimes that’s a strength, but I force myself to be conscious that sometimes the plan really should change.” Now, why had he told her that? “I wasn’t ready to retire from the military, but, see, I had a mission.”

  “Taking care of your sister and Christian.”

  “Yep.”

  Dana’s brows knit as she studied him, looking deep. “But then your sister died.”

  He didn’t say a word. Wasn’t sure he could. Nolan was well aware he hadn’t begun to deal with his sense of failure and of guilt.

  “Now I’m sorry,” she murmured.

  He dipped his head and concentrated on putting away another helping of the Szechuan beef. He’d come over here tonight to soften the blow Christian had struck and maybe to get a sense of whether his latest plan had any chance of succeeding. But laying bare the agony he’d locked behind high walls? No.

  Eventually, she poured coffee and offered cookies from the bakery downtown. He had a feeling she took one only to encourage him to eat some. She nibbled on the edges and crumbled the rest of it. Maybe she was a closet eater, but he thought it likelier she was keeping goodies on hand in case Christian showed up again.

  How many stale cookies had she thrown out this week?

  They kept talking. She told him about her new job. As a former officer, he understood her current focus. Even generals were prone to imagining troops on the ground could accomplish too much, thereby guaranteeing they failed at the core goals.

  “Core goals,” she mused. “That’s a good way to put it.” Her face brightened. “I’m lucky because the director had already realized there was a problem and is open to change and to ideas that don’t necessarily come from her. If you knew how rare that is...”

  He grunted, recalling a particular colonel. “Oh, I know, all right.”

  “One irony is that I’ll be teaching some parenting classes. I’ve done it before, but—” her smile twisted “—I’ve become a teeny bit aware how unqualified I am.”

  “I can’t believe that’s true.” The instinct to defend her came so fast he realized it had become a default. Didn’t matter that she was dissing herself. He couldn’t let her. “In your years in the profession, you must have seen a lot of parenting, from great to terrible.”

  “That’s true, of course—”

  A but was coming. He cut her off before she could say it. “Good teaching requires distance. You know what you’ve observed. The last thing the struggling people who come to your classes need is for you to let your own turmoil impact what you have to say.”

  For a long, quiet moment, she only studied him. At last, she gave a small nod. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He caught a glimpse over her shoulder of her wall clock, jarred to realize he’d been here two hours, and too much of the time, it had been his mouth flapping. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. “I’d better get going.”

  Her mouth curved. “In case you have to respond to a frantic call reporting bloodshed.”

  Nolan laughed. “Can’t let that go, can you?”

  “Have you?”

  “No.” He patted his pocket. “Believe me, I’m keeping the phone close. I’ve never been that scared before.”

  Of course, she understood. He didn’t have to ask to know the most frightening moment of her life: when she stepped into her baby’s bedroom and saw an empty crib and a wide-open window.

  She encouraged him to take the leftovers home. Obviously, she’d already noticed the amount of food Christian could put away. As big a man as Nolan was, the kid could outeat him.

  On her doormat, he turned back. “Hang in there, Dana.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  He didn’t like knowing how alone she must feel. “Good.”

  The penetrating way she looked at him always made him twitchy, as if he had something to hide. Or maybe just a new dose of guilt at how this was playing out.

  “I don’t understand you,” she confessed.

  He stood half a step below her, allowing their eyes to meet straight on. His gaze lowered to her mouth. He wouldn’t even have to bend his head...

  “That’s because I have this problem,” he said huskily. “My first loyalty needs to be to Christian. But you’re stirring a lot up in me. Right now—” his voice became ragged “—I want to kiss you.”

  Once again, her pupils flickered, large and then tiny. Her lips parted as if she thought she should say something but had no idea what.

  He took a chance and caressed her cheek with his knuckles, ending with a stroke of his thumb over her lower lip. “So what do you think?”

  “I—” Her tongue touched her lip right where his thumb had been. “I don’t know.”

  This time he slid his hand around her nape, squeezing gently. He bent slowly, watching for a rejection. Instead, she seemed to sway toward him and her eyes closed. He could tell she was holding her breath. He thought he was, too. Why else would he already feel light-headed?

  Her lips beneath his were as soft as he’d expected. He brushed his mouth over hers, nibbled a little, then lifted his head to see her expression.

  Her lashes swept up at the exact moment her chest rose and fell. “Oh,” she whispered.

  “Oh?”

  “It...felt nice.”

  He smiled. “It did. I’d like to do it again. And more.”

  “More?” She looked stunned.

  “Good night, Dana.” He didn’t want to go but knew he had to. Right now he had a tactical advantage. He’d be a fool to relinquish it. Giving her something to think about was enough.

  Walking toward the street, Nolan heard the door close quietly behind him.

  Unfortunately, he’d given himself something to think about, too. He shouldn’t be so aroused from a kiss so chaste, but he had to lower himself carefully behind the wheel of his SUV.

  Nice? Not the way he would have described that kiss. Maybe he’d been wrong not to push it a little.

  No
, she had a quality of innocence that made him doubt she often kissed men passionately. The idea that she might not have had sex in eleven years worried him even though he found he didn’t like the idea of her in bed with another man. Had she met a single one who understood what she had gone through? Saw her shadows, guessed at the vast empty place inside her? Or had the men she met seen only a beautiful woman, lonely enough to be vulnerable?

  He swore softly. He was an idiot to think he really understood her. Considering his original intention had been to fight dirty, he should be wondering if he wasn’t being manipulated. He was so damn torn now Christian’s anger and accusations were justified.

  Sleep wouldn’t come easily tonight, for a lot of reasons.

  CHAPTER TEN

  HE’D KISSED HER. He’d have liked to do more.

  She’d have liked that, too.

  Dana stood staring at her front door. She heard the engine outside fire up, followed by the subdued roar as he drove away.

  Why had he kissed her? Was it possible Nolan really was attracted to her? That...he had genuinely come to be conflicted about the battle they were waging for Christian’s affections?

  Gabriel’s. In the privacy of her own mind, he should be Gabe. Her Gabe.

  Except...he wasn’t. She realized she was wringing her hands in distress because she thought about her own son as Christian. A name given to him by the crazy woman who’d stolen him.

  Calmed by the necessary reminder, Dana returned to the kitchen. Cleanup took no time at all.

  He kissed me. The memory sang to her. It had been so long. She had been so lonely, without knowing she missed physical affection. Sex.

  But the numbness had worn off, either because she’d found Gabriel—or because she’d set eyes on Nolan Gregor.

  Grabbing the local newspaper she had been about to read when the doorbell rang, Dana analyzed her initial reaction to Nolan and had to admit that she’d been rocked. Then she’d believed it was all about Christian—Gabriel—damn it, Christian. Because she was going to see him. The tall man with the massive shoulders and sharp blue eyes, he was both her adversary and her fairy godfather. If he hadn’t put Christian’s DNA online, she never would have known. She would have lived her entire life not knowing.