by Lisa Carter
Disappointment dropped into his stomach like a lead weight. Though why he’d expected—hoped—for better from Kristina Montgomery, he didn’t know. Fact was, he didn’t know the widow at all.
Nobody was going to give Jade a chance to remake herself.
He ought to have realized that. Twenty years ago, he’d had to go off-Shore to receive his own fresh start. And for the first time, he regretted coming back to Kiptohanock. For Jade’s sake.
Gray—bless him—wasn’t put off by his mother’s caution, nor repelled by Jade’s tough-girl persona. He reached for the duffel slung over Canyon’s shoulder. “Can I help? I’d love to tell Jade about school.”
Jade stuck out her skinny hip. “I’m not going...” With one look at Canyon’s expression, she rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She marched up the steps to the office.
At the door, she pivoted on her boot heel. “Are you coming or not, Gray?”
Jade’s green eyes glinted at Gray’s mother. He gave his niece full credit for reading people. With a mother like Brandi, perhaps that was how she’d survived.
But Jade needed to realize she wasn’t alone anymore. For better or worse—probably worse—she had Canyon. And he had her back.
Gray grinned. “Sure.” He started after her until his mother took hold of his arm.
Canyon clenched his jaw. He wouldn’t allow this woman to hurt Jade. Jade had already experienced more rejection in her short life than anyone should.
But Kristina Montgomery surprised him.
“I’m going to allow Gray to work for you after school, Mr. Collier.”
Gray threw his arms around his mother. “Oh, Mom. Thank—”
“Hear me out.” She held up her palm. “On one condition. I’d like to accept your offer of an airplane ride.” She arched her eyebrow. “Before I agree to let Gray work here.”
Canyon got a quivery feeling in his chest. There went his vow to avoid her. He fought against an irrational surge of gladness. “Sounds fair. I promise you won’t regret it.”
He swallowed. Real question—would he?
Chapter Four
Standing outside the airfield office with her son, Kristina hadn’t expected the teenage girl in goth attire. And from the puppy-dog looks Gray sent Jade Collier, he’d never agree to remain on their side of the property line. Especially not if someone his age—and female—lived next door.
Her “good fences make good neighbors” philosophy took a nosedive. So she decided to try a new approach. Time to add a few more strategies to her solo-parenting tool kit. And according to Sawyer Kole, Canyon was not the brother with the criminal record.
She smiled at the Colliers. “Have either of you eaten lunch?”
Behind the heavy black eyeliner, some of the glare dimmed from the girl’s remarkable green eyes. Despite the affected air of boredom, the child was as attractive as her father.
He didn’t wear a wedding ring. As for the duffel bag? Maybe weekend custody. Or had he become a full-time single parent like her?
Canyon squinted. “Lunch?”
If Gray was determined to spend time at the airfield, Kristina needed to get to know Canyon and his daughter better.
Jade propped her hands on her skinny hips. “What’re you offering?”
“Don’t be rude, Jade.” Canyon’s gaze flickered toward Kristina. “We haven’t had lunch, but we wouldn’t want to impose.”
“It’s not an imposition. My invitation.”
For the first time in a long while, Gray smiled at his mother. “That’s a great idea, Mom. Real neighborly. Can we have pimento cheese?”
Canyon cleared his throat. “We don’t want to put you to any trouble.”
Gray winked at her. “Mom keeps pimento cheese in the refrigerator. Cuts those great triangle sandwiches, remember?” He laughed.
“No crusts?” Jade wrapped her arms around herself. “I saw that on TV once.” She glanced at Canyon. “Unless you’re too busy.”
Kristina was touched by the expression on Canyon’s face when he looked at his daughter. Hope mixed with a healthy dose of fear. A new emotion for the cocky pilot?
“I’m not too busy,” he grunted.
From their awkward demeanor with each other, she wondered if Canyon and Jade had spent much time together. Pimento cheese sandwiches seemed an easy gesture to help them ease into their new situation.
She climbed the porch steps. “Let’s get Jade settled and then we can meet at my house for lunch.”
Canyon unlocked the door. “I didn’t get much notice Jade was coming.”
At his gesture, Kristina stepped inside. “I didn’t realize you lived at the airfield, Mr. Collier.”
He motioned the children inside, too. “It’s Canyon.”
Gray took Jade’s duffel bag. “Canyon started living here after he sold his grandma’s house to build his business.”
Kristina’s eyes darted to Canyon. His grandma’s house, now her home?
She followed Gray down the front hall. Disconcerted to discover her bookish child sporting an interest in girls. Another reminder Gray was growing up. Too soon, she’d be utterly alone. A shaft of the familiar fear clawed at her insides.
Through the open door to the right of the hall, she caught a quick glimpse of a desk overflowing with paperwork.
Canyon flushed. “Business is slow until planting season. I was figuring to catch up, but then the Wildlife Commission hired me to do a migratory bird count on the barrier islands and...” He shrugged.
The hall led to a tiny galley kitchen and an eat-in dining area overlooking the hangar and airstrip. The counter was spotless, and dishes sat drying on the drain board. Other than his desk, Canyon kept his living quarters neat and tidy.
Canyon moved past Jade. “I didn’t have time to clean my bedroom or I would’ve put you there.” He threw open an adjacent door. “So I inflated the mattress and—”
At Jade’s quick inhalation, Kristina peeked over Gray’s shoulder. An air mattress lay in front of a washer and dryer in the utility room.
Canyon shuffled his feet. “It’s temporary, I promise.”
The wrong thing to say. Jade stiffened, and if anything, the chip she wore appeared to grow.
His jaw tightened. “That’s not what I meant, Jade. As soon as I clear out my stuff, we’ll trade places.”
Jade’s gaze cut to the Barbie poster on the wall.
Kristina’s eyes widened. “Barbie?”
Canyon stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “Jade likes Barbie.”
“When I was six.” However, her eyes glistened. “But thanks for remembering Canyon.”
Jade called her father Canyon? And he hadn’t seen Jade since she was six? What in the world?
Not Kristina’s business. Still, he’d tried. And his effort tugged at Kristina’s heart. “I have an idea.”
Gray, Jade and Canyon angled.
“There’s an extra bedroom Jade can use at our house until you get your living arrangements sorted.”
“We couldn’t—”
“I don’t need—”
“Great idea, Mom.” Gray hugged her.
The second time her son had voluntarily hugged her. Progress?
Canyon rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but—”
“Do you have any food in the kitchen?” Kristina crossed her arms.
He shook his head.
She tapped her foot. “Extra sheets, a pillow and a blanket for the mattress?”
He bit his lip.
Men.
“Unless you’d rather not, Jade.” Kristina dropped her arms. “We’re strangers, after all.”
Jade Collier seemed to be one of those slow-to-warm creatures. P
erhaps Kristina shouldn’t have said anything. Like with a gun-shy horse, maybe it was better not to rush things.
“We’re still in the process of getting settled ourselves.” She made an expansive gesture. “It’s not much. But it’s a bed and your own bathroom. If you want it.”
Jade’s startling eyes dropped to half-mast. “More than what I’m used to.” She patted Canyon’s arm. “Though I do appreciate the Barbie attempt.” Her mouth curved. “Coming from a confirmed bachelor like yourself.”
So that’s how it was with Canyon Collier. Never married. She’d seen his type before with pilots. A woman in every port—airport, in his case.
But she liked how the girl cared about her dad’s feelings. A good heart existed beneath the layers of face paint.
With chagrin, Canyon accepted her invite. And Kristina drove home alone to get a head start on lunch. Gray stayed behind to give Jade a tour of the aircraft.
As in plural. According to Gray, Canyon owned an AT 802—aka the yellow plane—a Cessna 172 and a helicopter.
Great, just great. As she drove the half mile via the road toward her bungalow, she suspected Gray had more on his mind than aircraft. Which was cute, in a first-crush sort of way.
But the very mature Jade was far too sophisticated in the ways of the world to give her late-bloomer son the time of day. Or at least that’s what she hoped.
Exiting her car, Kristina sent a quick prayer heavenward that Jade would let Gray down easy. She actually prayed. For the first time in a while.
She hurried to prepare the guest room and to set out fresh towels. Grabbing a blank piece of paper from the printer tray, she scrounged Gray’s desk for markers.
“Welcome to Kiptohanock, Jade,” she wrote with a flourish of curling vines and flowers onto the border. She taped the sign to the bedroom door.
In the kitchen, she slathered pimiento cheese on slices of white bread. Slicing the crusts from the sandwiches, she cut the bread into triangles. And smirked.
At how predictable she’d become. Although, on second thought, maybe not such a good thing. Was she as boring as Gray believed?
Plating the sandwiches, she heard the sound of a car in the driveway. Then Gray’s voice.
“The Cessna 172 is a workhorse...” The screen door squeaked as her son bounded into the kitchen. “The carburetor needs tweaking, but I think I can...” Jade followed.
Canyon’s broad shoulders filled the doorway. Jade’s gaze flitted from the vintage mint-tiled border above the countertop to the small bunch of purple crocuses on the farm table.
Gray pulled out a chair at the table. “Please take a seat, Jade.”
Kristina’s heart warmed as her son went all Southern gentleman. Jade gave Gray a suspicious look. As if she expected he’d yank the chair out from under her.
But scowling, she sat down. Mouth curved upward, Gray plopped into a chair opposite Jade. “Thanks, Mom. Looks great. As soon as Canyon and I have time, we’re going to take apart the...” He returned to his aircraft monologue.
She’d never known her son to be so talkative. Her eyes met Canyon’s.
He smiled. Which revealed two deep dimples bracketing his mouth. Her heart did a strange flip flop.
Part of Kristina resented her son’s hero worship of Canyon Collier. An adoration with which he’d only gifted his father.
After lunch, Gray volunteered to wash the dishes, the sheer novelty of his offer nearly sending Kristina into cardiac arrest. And leaving Gray to his sudden burst of helpfulness, she took Jade to her room.
Canyon hauled the duffel bag upstairs. At the sign on the door, Jade’s stance softened before she caught herself.
Kristina leaned against the door frame. “Will this work for you, Jade?”
Jade let her shoulders rise and fall in a studied show of indifference. “Yeah. Whatever.”
Canyon sighed. “Jade...”
Kristina bit back a smile. “It’s fine.”
“Teenagers. God’s little way of keeping us humble.”
She laughed. “True.”
He deposited the duffel bag on the braided rug by the bed. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he took a long, slow look at the room.
Kristina turned to go. “I’ll leave you to unpack, Jade.”
Canyon joined her on the landing. “Thank you, Kristina. This goes way beyond neighborly. I’ll tackle our living situation at the airfield immediately. We won’t impose on your hospitality for more than tonight.”
“No rush. It’ll be nice having another female around.” She tilted her head. “I was always outnumbered with Gray and his father.”
Canyon’s face shadowed. “I’m sorry about what happened this morning. I shouldn’t have said what I did about your relationship with Gray being in jeopardy.” His gaze shot toward the guest room. “Like you said earlier, what does a guy like me know about parenting?”
She sensed his discouragement. “Parenting teenagers is tough. I’m in no position to judge.” She had an inexplicable urge to comfort him. “You obviously care deeply about your daughter.”
“Wait. You think Jade is my—” Confusion flickered across his features. “I thought Gray explained.”
Her cheeks burned. Why was it always open mouth, insert a prop plane when it came to Canyon Collier?
She fluttered her hand. “You don’t have to explain anything.” And hastened downstairs.
He caught her in the living room. “Jade isn’t my daughter. She’s my niece.”
Kristina did an about-face. “Oh.”
Canyon’s brow creased. “Jade is my brother’s child. Beech is in prison.”
The brother with the criminal record.
Canyon gazed out the picture window overlooking the garden. “Jade’s mother is one narcotic violation away from joining him.” He inhaled. “I guess I’m all Jade has left, poor kid.”
Kristina realized despite the arrogant pilot bravado, Canyon Collier had a lot of insecurities. “How did you get involved in flying? The Guard?”
“Before the Guard, actually. Hap Wallace was an old friend of my grandmother’s. He taught me everything I know about flying.”
Kristina remembered the sign at the airfield. “The Wallace part of the business.”
“Hap started the business a long time ago. He became a father figure.” Canyon dropped his eyes. “The only father figure I ever knew. I had no idea he’d leave the place to me in his will. After my grandmother died, I finished my Coast Guard enlistment and came back.”
Kristina understood about loss. Canyon had lost his grandmother and his mentor in a short space of time.
“I returned to face the misdeeds of the past. To disprove the Collier family reputation.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I admire the kind of courage it takes to confront your fears. I wish I were more like that.”
* * *
Canyon was at a loss to understand the draw he felt toward the widow. “It takes a great deal of courage to pull up stakes after your husband’s death. To move across the country and start a new life.”
Kristina’s shoulders slumped. “We needed a new place to begin again. Without reminders of everything we’d lost. Without seeing Pax at every turn.”
Her hand groped for the chain hanging underneath her blouse. An unconscious gesture. Was her husband’s wedding ring on the end of the chain?
A habitual gesture, he suspected, for a woman who’d been unable to move beyond her grief.
Canyon’s heart felt heavy in his chest. “The airfield spoiled that for you. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. Tendrils of silky blond hair framed her face. “It’s my issue, not yours. I’m learning to live with it.” Her hand clenched around the hidden chain.
Perhaps she’d moved on p
hysically. But emotionally? He knew better than most that you couldn’t run far enough to outdistance your problems. Though he’d certainly tried when he joined the Coast Guard.
“You’ve helped me so much already, jumping in to cover my failures with Jade.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m beginning to realize I have you and your airfield to thank for making this transition easier on my son.”
“Gray’s a special kid. He has a real gift for mechanical devices.”
“Like father, like son.” Her chin quivered. “Which is exactly what I’m most afraid of.”
As for Canyon’s greatest fear? Getting too close and getting hurt. Again.
He’d not seen this coming when he spotted the moving truck a month ago on one of his aerial forays.
The next day, the gangly boy had appeared. Always on the edge of the forest, watching him take off in the early morning. Returning when Canyon landed the plane again.
One day the boy ventured closer to the hangar. He’d offered to help Canyon secure the plane and stow his gear.
He’d thanked Gray but refused his offer. Disappointment etched itself across the boy’s features. Flushing, his eyes had dropped to his shoes.
Belatedly, Canyon remembered his own awkward phase. But Gray returned the next day and the next.
The shy, soft-spoken offer to help made each time. Hope springing eternal in his dark eyes. Until at last, after Gray waged a gentle war of attrition, Canyon surrendered to the inevitable and let the boy help out around the place.
“I appreciate your willingness to spend time with my son.” Kristina’s wistful voice drew Canyon into the present. “He’s missed that since his father’s death.”
Canyon’s eyes flicked toward her hand, pressed against her blouse. Her fingers massaged the chain at her throat. Something stirred inside him. To be loved like that...
He’d never been loved like that. But then, he’d never opened himself to be loved like that. To be loved required love in return. And despite the inherent risk in his line of work, love was the ultimate risk he wasn’t willing to take.
“Your husband sounds like he was a great guy.” He hunched his shoulders. “A great dad and husband.”
