“I can handle him,” Annie said, as she boosted the sleepy boy higher on her hip. But she had to wonder. When Micah was an infant, she’d carried him in a backpack on the rare occasions she’d had time to hike. With him topping thirty-five pounds now, it put too much weight on her shoulders.
Drew seemed to think better of arguing. “Let me know if you change your mind. This way.”
A power struggle averted, they hiked up the trail in companionable silence. The trees rustled in the breeze. Even Micah was unusually quiet, his eyes bright as he took in his surroundings.
Annie breathed deeply, enjoying the fresh air and the warm autumn sunshine. “There’s absolutely nothing better than Arizona in the fall.”
“Yeah, one of the reasons I never moved back to Michigan after college. My folks have already had snow. They keep threatening to become snowbirds—half the year in Arizona and half in Michigan. Of course, that may become more than talk when they learn about this guy.” He cupped Micah’s head with his palm.
The tenderness in his expression made her wistful, wishing they’d met under different circumstances. She hoped all the snowbird talk was simply that—talk. Otherwise, she might start worrying about a set of pushy grandparents overrunning her neatly ordered life.
She shifted Micah’s weight. He was starting to get heavy. “You haven’t told your family about him yet?”
“No. I wanted to make sure I had things straight in my mind before I talked to them.”
“And had the paternity test results,” she finished, disappointed that he still didn’t seem to know her better than that.
“I don’t want to get their hopes up, then pull the rug out from under them.”
As the trail started to climb, Annie mulled over what Drew had said as she admired a single orange butterfly making the most of the waning season. It fluttered and coasted, a bright spot of color against the muted sage and brown around them.
She started to see the situation from Drew’s perspective. There were so many people who could get hurt if this went wrong. Only she knew the truth.
“Your parents have wanted grandkids for a while?”
“Only forever. And they’d prefer my younger sister finish grad school before marriage and a family. So, yeah, sometimes the pressure is on me.”
They rounded the bend and found an ideal picnic spot, shaded by a cluster of mesquite trees.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.
Except for driving to her mom’s place in Payson, it had been a long time since Annie had ventured outside the urban sprawl. City parks were nice, but nothing like being in the rugged outdoors. They had yet to even run into the hikers who belonged to the cars in the parking lot.
“How about under that tree?” Drew pointed to a lush area. “It looks like the desert wash isn’t running. No water this time of year.”
“Perfect.”
She followed him and waited while he spread the old blanket.
Micah squirmed to get down. “Picnic?”
Drew laughed. “Your timing is impeccable, buddy. You’re like me, any hint of food and I’m wide-awake and raring to go.”
Annie set Micah on his feet before kneeling on the blanket next to the picnic basket. “I feel bad. All I brought were snacks and a dessert.”
“I told you not to worry about a thing. I figured you’d have your hands full getting Micah ready. Besides, I picked the stuff up at the deli.”
Unable to resist, she lifted the lid and peeked inside the picnic basket. The thought of food made her stomach growl.
Micah squatted next to her and looked inside, too. “Brownies.”
Annie laughed. “Yes, you and I made brownies, and Drew put them in here. But those are for dessert. We’ll have sandwiches first. And it looks like there’s some fruit salad in here.”
“Sounds like everyone’s hungry.”
Soon, they each had a paper plate loaded with food.
“How’d you know Micah liked peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?”
“It was a pretty safe bet. It was a favorite of mine at that age and I figured all kids liked them.”
“Most. But there’s a girl in Micah’s class who’s allergic to peanuts.” Annie didn’t want him to think she wasn’t grateful for his effort. “But that’s extremely rare. PB and J is a great choice.”
Grinning, Drew said, “Don’t worry, I had a backup plan. There’re cheese sandwiches in there, too.”
Annie refrained from mentioning that some kids were sensitive to dairy products. And some were lactose intolerant.
“Isn’t Be Prepared the Boy Scout motto? Were you an Eagle Scout?”
“No. I had a hard time following rules when I was a kid. The army pretty much forced me to look ahead and prepare for eventualities.”
“Was it…bad in Iraq?”
He hesitated. “Yeah, it was.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s okay. They say it’s good to talk about it.”
“But you’re not so sure?”
“It’s one of those things where you had to be there to understand.” His eyes grew shadowed. He fiddled with his sandwich, but didn’t take a bite.
His sadness tugged at her heart. Something terrible had happened to him. His injury?
She picked up one of the cheese sandwiches. “I’d like to try to understand.”
He glanced at Micah, who seemed fascinated by a caterpillar crawling across the blanket.
Annie made a mental note to make sure Micah didn’t stick the caterpillar in his mouth.
“Drew? We can change the subject if it’s too difficult.”
Taking a deep breath, he said, “No, it’s something I’ve been trying to face up to.”
She pretended to concentrate on unwrapping her sandwich, giving him time to gather his thoughts.
“You know the night we met? I told you I had a hunch I might not make it back?”
She wasn’t expecting the intensity of his gaze when she looked up at him. Or how it brought back memories of being his sole focus, if only for a few hours.
“Yes, I remember.”
“It wasn’t just a way to play on your sympathy.”
Annie swallowed hard. That’s exactly what she’d been thinking. “It did, though.”
“Yeah.” His smile twitched as he glanced at their son. “Better than I ever imagined.”
She wished he wouldn’t act like Micah was a dream come true. It put pressure on her to let him into their lives on a more meaningful basis.
“Your premonition obviously didn’t come true.” She gestured. “You’re here, alive and well.”
He stared at the horizon for a moment, his jaw working. “It did come true. Every last detail. Except one.”
“You survived?”
“Two things then. I survived…and the wrong man died.”
CHAPTER SIX
DREW TRIED DESPERATELY not to be sucked in by the memories of that awful day in Iraq. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t evade the image burned into his brain.
Orion’s playful smirk when he beat Drew to the Humvee seat that was always his when the team escorted the chaplain to an outpost.
The shock waves radiating through the vehicle as an IED exploded, sending shrapnel tearing through flesh and bone. The surreal creaks and groans as the Humvee settled on its axles. The choking dust and smoke.
Then, as his vision cleared, Drew saw Orion pinned to the seat by a twisted fragment of metal pipe. Drew was at his side in seconds.
“Hang on, you’re going to be fine.”
Orion’s slight smile told Drew he knew otherwise. “Tell…Beth…I love her.”
“No, man, you tell her yourself.”
Sweat dripped in Drew’s eyes, making them sting. Or maybe it was blood. There was a haze of red. He wiped his sleeve across his face.
“Not…gonna…happen.”
“You can’t leave her like this.” Can’t leave me like this.
&n
bsp; “Is okay…” His words were slurred. “She’s…great.”
“She sure is. Beth’s one in a million.”
“Look…after her.”
Drew’s throat was raw from dust and acrid smoke. Clearing it, he said, “You can count on that.”
“Take…care…of…my guys. Our guys.”
Orion’s breathing grew shallow. His mouth twisted with pain.
“Where’s the damn medic?” Drew shouted.
“On his way,” Jones called, applying pressure to a neck wound on Gibbs. “Hang on, Orion,” he called over his shoulder.
“Drew,” Orion whispered.
He leaned closer.
“Gift…is…yours.”
“Just stay quiet. Save your strength.”
Orion struggled to stand, apparently unaware that he was pinned.
Drew gripped his shoulder and held him still, his heart breaking.
“You…chaplain.”
If he could just hold on tight enough, Drew thought, Orion couldn’t die. He tried to keep his tone light, so his friend wouldn’t know how desperate the situation was. “Now I know you’re hallucinating. I’m no chaplain. That’s your job.”
“Yours.”
That was the last thing Orion said to him.
Drew wished he could trade places with the man who was more of a father than his real dad. Wished he could take on his pain as his own.
Pray for me.
He could hear the words as clearly as if Orion had spoken them aloud.
From memories of Bible school long ago, Drew recited, “Our Father, who art in heaven…”
“DREW? ARE YOU ALL right?” Annie asked.
He wiped his eyes, embarrassed that she’d seen him this way. “Yeah. I didn’t mean to tell you about Orion.”
“He must have been a very special man.”
“He was. The best.”
Drew glanced around for anything to provide a distraction. That’s when he saw Micah and realized what the child had done.
Drew reached out and scooped him up. “Don’t eat that.”
Annie shot to her feet, holding out her arms. “What does he have? Is it poisonous? Is he choking?”
“Spit it out,” he commanded.
Micah’s eyes widened innocently.
Drew swept his forefinger in the boy’s mouth and held out the wiggling caterpillar for Annie’s inspection. “No, not poisonous. But kinda gross.”
She paled. “It’s not toxic?”
“He’ll be fine. The caterpillar should be okay, too, though I’m sure it’s in shock.”
Drew placed the critter under a shrub far enough away that Micah wouldn’t be tempted to go after it. He grasped the boy under his arms and raised him over his head. “No eating bugs. They’re yucky.”
The kid had the nerve to laugh. “Yucky.”
“Micah James, no more eating bugs.” Annie shook her finger.
Drew tossed the boy in the air, then caught him.
He was rewarded by more laughter.
“Think that’s funny, do you?” He tossed him higher. It only added to the little daredevil’s glee as Drew caught him and cradled him to his chest like a football.
He was working up to his third throw when Annie’s voice cut through the laughter.
“Drew!”
Turning toward her, he said, “Let me guess. Too dangerous?”
“No. I mean, yes. But he just ate a big lunch. That’s not a good idea…”
That was when Drew noticed the kid looked a little green around the gills. He quickly set him on his feet.
“Sweetie…” Annie hustled Micah to the base of a shrub, where he promptly lost his lunch.
Drew was dangerously close to losing his. The day had been a disaster, from start to finish. Not only had he shared his greatest shame with a woman he wanted, no, needed to impress, but then he’d managed to make Micah sick.
“I think it’s time to go home.” Annie’s tone brooked no argument.
Drew suspected it would be a long, long time before she would consider him fit to have unsupervised visits with Micah. And at this point, he couldn’t really blame her.
ANNIE’S WEDNESDAY LUNCHES with Kat usually provided a welcome workday break, but today she wasn’t enjoying the conversation. She glared at her best friend while they waited for the counter person at Some-burros to fill their drink order. “What do you mean, I’m being too hard on Drew? The man has no common sense where children are concerned. I’ve given him opportunity after opportunity to prove he’s mature and capable. And every time I think he might be coming around, he does something stupid.”
Kat accepted the plastic tray with their drinks and their order number. “I’ll grab that booth before someone else gets it. Then you can tell me what you really think.”
Annie’s indignation didn’t wane as she made her way to the island to get the utensils and condiments, her job in the division of labor she and Kat had determined long before Micah was born.
After weaving through the crowd of tables, almost every one occupied, she sat opposite Kat. “I’m not being unreasonable. Any mother would be disturbed.”
“Okay, I’ll agree it wasn’t too bright to toss the kid up in the air after he’d eaten a couple sandwiches and a caterpillar….”
A man dressed in a suit at the next table gave them an odd look.
“Shh. He didn’t eat the caterpillar, he just put it in his mouth.”
Kat rolled her eyes. “Whatever. It wasn’t life or death. Drew had it under control. And let’s face it, disturbing though it may have been, a child vomiting from excitement and roughhousing is not in immediate danger. If he was, there would be a lot more fathers in prison.”
“But if those are the stunts Drew pulls when I’m around, just think of what he’ll do when I’m not there.”
Kat’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “There’s the William Tell archery game my brothers played with me as a kid. I think I still have a scar on my scalp.”
“You’re not making things easier.”
“No, I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m really not trying to make light of this. But Drew will always be a part of Micah’s life. Wouldn’t it be better to help him be successful at parenting instead of making the poor guy think he sucks as a father?”
“I don’t want him to fail.” Did she?
Just then their food arrived and Annie refrained from adding any more opinions of Drew’s parenting skills.
When the server left with their trays, Kat leaned forward. “Okay, I’m going to throw an idea out here. Have you thought that maybe it’s you making him so nervous that he does stupid stuff?”
“Me? I’m one of the least threatening people on the planet.”
Kat coughed. “Um, yeah, you can’t see your protective mama-bear-side, I guess. It’s completely awesome. As long as I’m not the target of all that protectiveness.”
“I’m supposed to feel guilty? As if I don’t already have enough guilt being a single parent?”
“No, but the guy was sharing a pretty intense personal moment with you—that’s a sign of maturity. Maybe you can cut him some slack.”
Annie regretted telling Kat about Drew’s confession. But she’d been overwhelmed, not sure she’d done the right thing by letting him pretend he hadn’t confided about Orion’s death. Granted, the caterpillar had been an effective distraction.
She raised an eyebrow, cutting her pollo fundido. The aroma of chicken and green chilies made her realize it had been a long time since her hurried bowl of oatmeal this morning. “I suppose you know just how I should do that?”
“As a matter of fact, I have a suggestion.”
“Why does that not surprise me? It always seems to be the childless people have the most suggestions about how to raise kids.”
Kat’s smile faded.
Annie regretted the words the minute they were out of her mouth. “I’m sorry, Kat, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Especially with your maternal clock ticking.”
“No big deal.”
But Annie could tell by the hurt in Kat’s eyes it was a big deal. She was mortified. “You are absolutely the last person on the planet I’d want to hurt. Please forgive me for sticking my foot in my mouth.”
Kat hesitated. Finally, she pointed her plastic fork at Annie. “I will forgive you only if you allow me to interfere at will in my godson’s life.”
“What do you have in mind?” Annie suspected she was being maneuvered.
“Drew mentioned having kind of a flexible work schedule. Since you make him nervous, why don’t you see if he might be able to hang out while I take care of the little terror on football practice days? It might take the pressure off both of you. And to be honest, I wouldn’t mind the backup. You have no idea how exhausting it is to be the fun godmother.”
Not nearly as exhausting as being the responsible single mother.
They ate in silence for a few minutes before Annie ventured, “You’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything dangerous?”
“Cross my heart. I’ll even fill Drew in on the finer points of child care.”
Annie suppressed a sigh. It might turn out to be a case of the blind leading the blind.
“I guess…”
“You won’t regret it.”
Somehow, Annie suspected regrets would be the least of her problems.
DREW TRIED TO IGNORE the hint of nerves as he waited outside Annie’s door. He’d been in battle, so he could certainly handle a toddler.
Kat answered the door, talking on her cell phone as she motioned him inside. “I gotta go. I’ll get there when I get there…. Yeah, love you, too.”
Clicking her phone shut, she said, “Good, the reinforcements are here. He’s in fine form this afternoon. Must not have napped much this afternoon at day care, so he’s…cranky.”
“Maybe he needs a nap now. Any chance he’ll watch a movie with me and crash out?”
“Oh, there’s a very good chance of that. And Annie’ll have my head because he’ll never fall asleep at eight tonight. She thinks it’s really important for him to have a consistent schedule.”
“And you don’t agree?”
Welcome Home, Daddy Page 6
