by Lisa Carter
She shook her head. “Why would you do that? You’re not exactly rolling in the dough. You have to think about Jade’s future, too.”
He bristled. “I’m doing okay. Jade will be fine. A florist shop would be a good investment.”
“You believe that much in the village?”
“I believe that much in you.”
A vein jumped in the hollow of her throat. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I have faith in you and your dreams, Kristina. I’ll always be on your side.”
“Faith...” She squared her shoulders. “I appreciate your offer, more than you know. But Pax left me enough so that money isn’t the issue.”
“What is the issue then, Kristina?”
“Suppose I try and fail?”
“We’ve had this conversation before. Suppose you try and succeed? But maybe that’s the real problem. If you succeed, it means you’ve moved into a new life, and that thought scares you to death.”
“There’s Gray to consider.” She lifted her chin. “I can’t neglect my son.”
“Gray would make a great delivery boy.” Canyon smirked. “When he’s not working at my airfield.”
She threw out her arms. “You’ve got this whole thing figured out, don’t you?”
“I don’t have you figured out at all, Kristina. But you need to trust yourself and what you feel. Don’t listen to the fear.”
She glanced behind him in the direction of the songbird. “I stopped dreaming a long time ago, Canyon.”
“I don’t believe that.” He motioned toward the darkened store. “What do you see when you look through the glass? Dream with me, Kristina. Allow yourself for once to just dream with me.”
She stared at him. “Van Cortlandt blue.”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s what I see when I look through the window.” She fluttered her hand. “It’s a paint color, flyboy.”
He bit back a smile. “What else do you see?”
“I see that fabulous antique counter and those wide-planked floors sanded and returned to their original luster.” She slumped. “I also see it would require an enormous amount of work—not to mention expense—to renovate the space.”
He fingered his chin. “Which is why you have me and teenagers.” He dropped his hand and smiled. “Slave labor.”
She peered in the window again. “I wondered if, maybe when Sawyer’s done with the aquatic center, he might give me a reasonable price on the remodel.”
“Good idea. What else?”
Stretching, she gestured against the glass. “See those shelves?”
He squinted through the smudged plate glass. “Uh-huh...”
“Perfect for merchandise.” She framed her vision, her hands bracketing an L. “And this wonderful front window? Seasonal displays. Like when winter turns into spring.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He caught her hand. “And a song. In fact, I think I hear a nightingale.”
Humming a few bars of “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square,” Canyon placed her hands on his chest and held them there.
Kristina’s gaze darted left and right. “What are you doing?”
Not giving her time to resist, he swung her around on the sidewalk. “I’m finishing our dance.”
“I don’t want to dance.” She tried pulling her hands free. “Someone is going to see us, Canyon.”
He swayed to the right and then to the left. “Colliers learned a long time ago not to live their lives caring what other people think.”
She huffed but relaxed, splaying her fingers against the fabric of his shirt.
“Close your eyes and dream.” Drawing her closer, he encircled her waist with his hands. “Dance with me, Kristina,” he whispered against her ear.
With a small sigh, her body began to move with his as they danced.
Around and around they danced in front of the storefront that begged for her to bring it to life. As she’d brought him to life. Dancing to music only they could hear. Together.
His lips brushed against the silky strands of her hair. “You make this pilot want to sing.”
She bit her lip. “You make me want to dream. To feel again. Like winter has finally turned into spring.”
“With you, it feels like spring to me, Kris.”
A sea breeze lifted the hair on his forehead. She feathered the curl off his brow. He flushed at the touch of her hand.
Her hand moved to cup his jaw. “I had no idea you could be so romantic.”
“Me neither.”
Placing her hands around his face, she kissed him.
“I love you, Kristina.”
Eyes widening, she wrenched free. She fell against the rough brick of the abandoned building. Without her in his arms, he felt bereft.
Her chest heaved. “I’ve only said those words to one man. I can’t say them again, Canyon, unless I’m sure I mean them with my whole heart.”
Canyon knew, even if she didn’t, she couldn’t have kissed him like that unless somewhere in her heart, she already did love him.
“If you tell me there’s a chance you could love me one day—no matter how long it takes—I’ll wait. You’re worth waiting for, Kristina.” His heart jackhammered.
Her china-blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I can’t make you any promises, Canyon. I can’t ask you to wait.”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” He reached for her. “I’ll be your safe landing, Kristina, if you’ll let me.”
She shied at his outstretched hand. “I’m trying to let go of the past. I can’t say when I’ll be ready.” She took his hand, weaving her fingers in his. “But wait for me, Canyon. Please don’t give up on me.”
He drew her into his arms again. His heart slowed to a steadier beat. “Take as much time as you need. As long as I know at the end of the day, you’ll be there waiting for me.”
Kristina took a shuddery breath. “This is scarier than flying.”
“Sweeter, too,” he rasped.
Kristina smiled.
“And I won’t ever give up on us, Kris.” He swallowed. “I couldn’t even if I tried.”
Chapter Fourteen
When Canyon agreed to let Jade go to the dance—and spent a chunk of change on a new dress—he’d assumed she’d go with Gray.
Now Canyon realized the runway to perdition was paved with false assumptions. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
His first instinct had been to lock Jade in her room until she turned thirty. His next move? Consult someone who’d been in the same predicament in which he found himself.
Therefore, he sought out the best adviser on daughters he knew—Seth Duer, Sawyer’s father-in-law—for an emergency chat at the Sandpiper Café over a plate of Long Johns.
Seth’s mustache quirked at hearing Canyon’s solution. “You realize the sheer physical impossibility—not to mention the legality—of trying to keep Jade under lock and key till she’s thirty, don’t you?”
Canyon scrubbed his neck with his hand. “If this is a taste of the future, I’m not going to survive this adolescent roller coaster.”
Seth’s bushy eyebrows bunched. “What you need are high expectations, boundaries and a whole lot of prayer.”
“Oh, believe me when I tell you there’s a whole lot of prayer going on these days.” He gripped the white porcelain mug. “About a whole lot of things.”
Seth smiled, but then the gravelly voiced waterman’s blue-green eyes turned sad. “A lesson I learned too late for my oldest, Lindi. But it doesn’t have to be that way with your niece.”
Lindi went looking for love in the wrong places. And when Lindi died, her younger sister, Amelia, was left to raise Lindi’s infant son, Max. Canyon couldn’t afford
to make the same mistake with Jade.
As long as he had breath in his body, he couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow Jade to destroy her life. History didn’t have to repeat itself in terms of Beech and Brandi. The Collier curse had to end—with Jade.
He also gave Margaret Davenport a call, seeking a female perspective.
“Give Jade a little leeway. She needs to prove she’s worthy of the trust you’re placing in her. Make it a short rope, though.” Margaret’s tone sharpened. “Just enough rope for that jock to hang himself if he gets out of hand with our girl.”
The learning curve was steep and fast in what he was realizing might be the most important job he’d ever have—fathering Jade. On-the-job training at its scariest. And finest.
A sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead when he broached the topic with Jade. He had a serious—and awkward—talk with her on what he expected and what he wouldn’t tolerate. Naturally, Jade was incensed.
“You don’t trust me,” she shouted.
“I don’t trust seventeen-year-old boys,” he countered. “And I intend to fight for your future whether you fight for yourself or not.”
“You ought to take a good look in the mirror, take a short walk through the woods—” she pointed in the general direction of Kristina’s house “—and practice what you preach.”
“Don’t try to change the subject.” He scowled. “You, this boy and the dance are not negotiable.”
She stomped to her bedroom. “I hate you.” And slammed the door in his face.
“I guess this means you won’t be naming any children after me then?” he yelled.
Something thudded against the panel. He jumped back just to be safe. But it was time to be the dad he’d never had. Whether Jade liked it or not.
On the night of the school dance, he pushed aside the curtain as a flashy convertible rolled into the airfield. The car idled for a second and then the driver laid on the horn.
“Why didn’t you tell me he was here?” Hurrying into the living room, Jade reached for the door handle.
Canyon placed his palm firmly against the door. “Not so fast.”
She gave Canyon a haughty look. “He’s waiting for me.”
Canyon gave her a cool look of his own. “He can continue to wait unless he comes inside like a real man and introduces himself to me. We’re going to have a chat.”
Her mouth flattened. “Why are you being so difficult?”
Canyon’s eyebrows rose. “You haven’t seen difficult until I’ve checked out the boy taking my girl out in his car.”
Her eyes rolled. “You’re going to make us late for the dance.”
Blocking the door, he rested his shoulder against the frame. “Not moving.” He cocked his head. “Got all night. How ’bout you?”
Jade let out a shriek. “You’re being impossible.”
Canyon smiled. “You haven’t seen impossible, darlin’, if I decide that boy isn’t good enough for you.”
Her mouth fell open. “He’s a senior.”
“Exactly.” Canyon glared. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Once upon a time, I was him.”
“This is ridiculous...” she sputtered.
But straightening, he swung open the door and motioned to the boy in the car. “His choice.”
He met the boy on the stoop. At first glance, he took a dislike to the boy and his slicked-back pompadour. Since when had that hairstyle made a comeback? But most of all, he took issue with the way the boy eyed Jade—like he was sizing up a piece of beef.
Or maybe that was Canyon projecting his own fears. Protectiveness and pride rose in equal measure.
Jade looked amazing in her soft green dress. The flared hem brushed her kneecaps. The magenta streak in her hair had faded some. And she’d used a light hand on the makeup tonight. Her eyes no longer resembled a raccoon’s.
Who was this girl and what had she done with Jade? He didn’t like Jade feeling she had to change her identity to be accepted. At least the eyebrow ring and multiple ear studs were still in place or he would’ve despaired entirely.
He stuck out his hand to the boy. “Canyon Collier. Jade’s uncle.”
The boy took his hand. “Harrison Randolph.” He smirked. “Her date.”
Canyon squeezed the boy’s hand until Randolph winced from the pressure. “Jade has her phone. I expect her home by midnight.”
Jade’s pink lips—where had his goth girl gone?—thinned. “That’s not fair.”
The boy went rigid. “The dance doesn’t end—”
“I also think you ought to know I’ve had training in weaponry,” Canyon said. “You roger that, Randolph?”
Uncertainty flickered in the boy’s gaze. “Loud and clear.”
Canyon jabbed his index finger at the boy’s starched tuxedo shirt. “That would be sir to you.” He whipped around to Jade. “And you will call me on the hour, every hour, with a status report.”
With a short jerk of his head, the boy nodded.
Why hadn’t Canyon thought to teach Jade a few self-defense strategies? He watched the red taillights of the expensive convertible disappear into the darkness. Proud of how lovely and grown-up Jade looked. Worried sick at how lovely and grown-up Jade looked.
He paced the hallway. He ought to plug this month’s data into his office computer. But he couldn’t concentrate.
Restless, he decided to tackle sorting through the musty old cardboard box Margaret had given him at his grandmother’s funeral three years ago. A task he’d never had the time or courage to face before. But tonight, he suspected, was going to be all about courage.
One yellowed black-and-white photo in particular captured his attention. His teenage grandmother stood on the church steps between two young men in World War II–era uniforms. On the back of the photograph his grandmother had written in a fluid hand—back when they taught handwriting in school—“Easter Sunrise Service, 1945.”
He flipped the picture to study his grandmother’s face. So young. So beautiful. Her eyes clear. Totally unaware of the blows life would deal her.
The young man on the right to whom she’d give everything—his grandfather, Freddie Collier—would leave her and their baby girl for the lure of adventure. Hap Wallace—on her left—would give her his heart and lifelong devotion. She’d return the favor by never loving him back.
Jade looked so much like his grandmother, Canyon rose abruptly from the kitchen table. He drifted into the living room. After thirty minutes of not listening to a documentary, he turned off the television and resumed his pacing. This parenting gig wasn’t for cowards.
Canyon wished he could talk the situation over with Kristina. Her practical common sense made him feel better. Once he’d found out Jade wasn’t going to the dance with Gray, the only reason he’d allowed her to go was that Kristina had told him she’d be chaperoning.
He’d flown in hurricanes and participated in hundreds of rescues in the Coast Guard, but nothing came close to the gnawing fear inside him. If something happened to Jade...
Canyon drew a quick breath. He’d never forgive himself. This love he felt for Jade had ambushed him out of nowhere and continued to surprise him, only deepening with time.
As for Kristina? Was he giving her too much leeway? Would she ever move beyond the past? Maybe despite his promise to wait, in the end he’d be the one swinging high and dry from a rope.
Was there such a thing as too much patience? Was his reluctance to not force the issue based more on his fears of rejection? Or a desire to delay what he secretly feared was inevitable? That she’d never love him the way he loved her.
Perhaps Jade was right. Maybe it was time he fought for Kristina, for what they could be together, for their future. Even if Kristina couldn’t see she needed to fight for herself.
* * *
<
br /> Kristina searched the girls’ restroom stalls for the fifth time. Same result. She sagged against the tiled wall.
No sign of Jade. Outside the girls’ bathroom, music boomed from the gymnasium dance floor. The beat of the bass vibrated through the wall and thrummed against her temples.
One job. She’d had one job—to make sure no harm came to Jade—and she’d failed. Canyon would never forgive her if anything happened to his niece.
There could be no putting off the inevitable. She might be a coward about her own future, but she wouldn’t allow Jade’s life to be in jeopardy.
Covering one ear to block the pounding music, she cupped her cell phone to her other ear. He picked up on the first ring.
“I can’t find Jade.”
“Krist—”
“Mrs. Montgomery?” Someone banged on the door. “Mrs. Montgomery, are you in there?”
“Hold on, Canyon.” Removing the phone from her ear, she swung open the door and flinched as the music hit her in a wave of sound.
One of Gray’s chess club friends hovered outside. “Gray wanted me to tell you he’s sticking with Jade.”
Why hadn’t Gray come to her? But of course he hadn’t. He didn’t see himself as needing his mother. The same hero complex that eventually took his father’s life.
Remembering she’d left Canyon hanging, she shouted into the phone. “Gray’s gone, too. He’s following Jade and her date wherever it is they’ve gone.”
There were dire threats of imminent dismemberment on the other end of the line. “When I get my hands on that punk Randolph, I’m going to...”
She held the phone away from her ear.
Gray’s friend Vincent cast a furtive look over his shoulder before leaning closer. “You didn’t hear it from me, Mrs. Montgomery, but I overheard Randolph bragging about taking Jade for a moonlight ride on the water.”
“On the water? What’re you talking about?”
The pimple-faced boy frowned. “His dad docks a boat at a slip in Kiptohanock. Randolph wants to start his own party.”
“Did you catch that, Canyon?” she bellowed into the phone, trying to be heard over the pulse-pounding beat.
