The Bachelor's Unexpected Family

by Lisa Carter

  First, he decided to check on Gray. As for the other kid? Randolph had a hangover. And charges filed against him.

  In the corridor, Canyon passed the boy’s belligerent father, trying to justify his son’s unjustifiable actions to Deputy Charlie Pruitt.

  Canyon might be new to the whole parenting gig, but he’d learned one lesson early—children should face the consequences of their actions or history would repeat itself. Over and over again. And end up like his brother, Beech.

  Pruitt signaled Canyon to wait. Closing his notepad, the deputy walked over to him. “I hear we have you to thank for rescuing the kids, Collier.”

  Canyon cut his eyes at the elder Randolph, yelling at his attorney on a cell phone. “Not sure I did the world or the sheriff’s department any favors with that one.”

  Pruitt’s lip curled. “Overprivileged ‘come here...” He frowned and squared his shoulders. “I hope it goes without saying you didn’t hear me say that out loud.”

  Feigning innocence, Canyon held both palms up. “Hear what?”

  “Not a ‘been here, ‘born here like you and me, huh?” Pruitt pursed his mouth. “Not the Randolph kid’s first time on our radar. Won’t be the last. Some people seem drawn to trouble.”

  “And some of us don’t have to go looking.” Weary, Canyon leaned his shoulder against the wall. “Trouble seems to find us.”

  Pruitt cracked what Canyon supposed passed for a smile with law enforcement. “Not you. I figure that girl of yours is blessed to have you in her life.”

  Canyon shook his head. “I’m blessed to have her in mine.”

  Pruitt pushed back the brim of his regulation hat. “Were you aware there’s a search and rescue civil aviation unit on the Shore? They assist law enforcement, the Guard and harbor police with certain situations. Always looking for a few good pilots—” he shot a look at Canyon “—and good men like you to join their ranks.”

  He thought of Hap Wallace and his own tumbleweed grandfather in the Civilian Air Patrol. “I didn’t realize that was still an ongoing thing.”

  “I hope you’ll consider it.” Pruitt stuck out his hand. “Pleased to have you back in the Kiptohanock fold, neighbor.”

  Canyon stared at the deputy’s hand for a second and then grasped it. “I’ll be in touch.” He swallowed. “Neighbor.”

  Pruitt returned to laying down the law with Randolph, and Canyon headed down the hall to find Gray and his mother.

  This day was turning out to be full of surprises.

  * * *

  In one of the curtained cubicles, Kristina sat beside Gray’s empty hospital bed. Suffering from dehydration and hypothermia, he’d been taken upstairs to get an MRI to make sure there’d been no brain trauma.

  She’d come too close to losing her son. Too close to losing all that remained of his father, Paxton Montgomery. Kristina felt she’d lived a thousand lifetimes of fear and sorrow since she drove Gray to the dance. Underneath her shirt, the dog tags lay heavy against her skin. Cold. Lifeless.

  The weight of grief hung like an anchor around her neck. Pax would’ve been ashamed of how she’d hidden from the world since he died. He would’ve wanted so much more for her than the empty future to which she’d consigned herself.

  Pax hadn’t been a man given to fear. That had been her job in the marriage—to worry and wait for him to come home.

  She sank onto the mattress. Only Pax wasn’t ever coming home again. Not to her. He’d already gone home—to his truest home.

  Her hand fisted around his dog tags. Now it was his turn to wait. For her.

  And then the tears came. Tortured, racking sobs. The wrenching pain in her heart stole her breath.

  She doubled over, wetting the pillowcase with her tears. For what was and for what could never be again.

  At least, never again with Pax. He was gone. No matter how hard she tried to keep hold of him and what they’d been to each other, life—her life—marched on.

  The finality of his leave-taking overcame her in a way she’d been unwilling to face before. She remembered the words Reverend Parks read at the Good Friday service, which seemed a lifetime ago.

  Why do you seek the living among the dead?

  Her heart constricted. Exactly what she’d been doing since Pax left her. She shook her head. Her hair loosened from the ponytail to fall across her face.

  Pax hadn’t left her and Gray. He’d died. But she and Gray weren’t dead. Only an incredibly stupid person looked for life among those who were dead.

  She pushed the hair out of her face. It was time—past time—she stopped. That she started living again. That she looked for life and love among the living.

  It was time—a sob hiccuped out of her throat—time to say goodbye. Pax had lived and died with courage. And as his beloved widow, she could do no less than to live the rest of her days with courage, too.

  She understood now with crystal clarity the truth of Margaret’s wise advice. To miss Pax always, but to let him go.

  Kristina squeezed her eyes shut. It hurt so much. “Oh, God, I don’t want to let him go. I loved him so much.” Her inadvertent cry echoed beyond the thin wall of fabric.

  Flinching, she clapped her hand over her mouth. Loved. Past tense. Because life must always be lived in the present.

  It was time to press forward. Onward and upward. To do anything else was to stagnate in a living death. A dishonor to Pax and what they’d been to each other.

  Her hand shook as she lifted the chain off her neck. She couldn’t bear this stranglehold of death any longer. She’d put the dog tags in a safe place for Gray to honor his father’s memory.

  But she must embrace life. A life she knew with certainty must involve Canyon. Her heart quickened at what he meant to her, the second chance for life and love he offered.

  Two incredibly different men. One with a deceptively invincible aura. The other with so many raw wounds. But both of whom loved her.

  Had she been wrong? Was it possible to have two great loves in a lifetime? Her mouth trembled at the thought of a new life with Canyon. Like beholding a sunrise after a long, dark night. God had been so very good to her. The glorious hope of spring after the stark death of winter.

  She held Pax’s dog tags in her palm. With her finger, she traced his name imprinted on the metal. She had to do this now, before Gray returned. Before she lost her courage.

  “Goodbye, my love,” she whispered.

  Closing her eyes, she blocked everything from her consciousness except for Pax. One last time. Just her and him.

  The memory of his dark brown eyes. The laughing, playful flirtatiousness that had characterized their relationship from the first moment they met. The shining pride in his face the first time he held their son.

  A curtain rustled.

  She brushed her lips across the dog tags in her hand. “You are the love of my life, Paxton Montgomery. There will never be anyone like you.”

  There was nothing, she realized, like a first love. But thank God for His grace, Pax wouldn’t remain her only love.

  “I will never forget you.” Her voice strengthened, taking on a fierceness. “I will always love you, Pax.”

  “—safe and sound to your mom. Oh, excuse me, Mrs. Montgomery.”

  Kristina’s eyes snapped open. In the opened curtain stood Canyon. And behind him, the radiology technician with Gray in a wheelchair. Disoriented, she blinked at the look on Canyon’s face...

  Reality rushed back in a flood of sight and sound. The anguish in his eyes drove a dagger into her heart.

  How long had he been standing there? What had he overheard? If he’d only just arrived, he might think—

  “Canyon!”

  She clambered off the bed. But he wheeled and blundered past a startled Gray.

  “W
hat’s wrong, Mom?” Gray pressed his hands flat on the armrests and started to rise.

  The tech put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Not so fast.”

  Kristina stepped outside the curtain. “I have to—”

  “Mom, is everything okay? Why are your eyes so puffy?”

  She dodged Gray’s outstretched hand. “I’ll be right back.”

  But she’d delayed too long. Canyon must’ve raced downstairs to the parking lot. From a window, she watched him stride out of the hospital and get into his Jeep.

  Too late again? In a tangle of emotions, she watched him drive away. His vehicle disappeared out of sight as the sun began its golden descent to the west.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When Canyon returned to the hospital with Jade’s clothes, it was dark. And she was exhausted by the time they made the short trip home.

  Home. For a brief, stupid day, he’d actually dared to believe he’d finally found his.

  But after putting Jade to bed, he sat alone at the kitchen table. With two sleepless nights in a row, he was feeling raw and more than a little punchy.

  He gazed out the window at the night sky to where the waning moon hung over the airfield. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. But Kristina’s words had left his heart frozen, rooted in place and unable to break free.

  Ironic, considering he was the one who longed for wings.

  He also arrived at several inescapable conclusions as he listened to the lonely sound of the wind sighing among the trees.

  The hole Paxton Montgomery left in her heart was too big to be filled by him. He—who once longed to remain an emotional island—wanted nothing more than for his life to be filled with a couple of teenagers and the only woman he’d ever love.

  His splendid isolation had been bridged. There’d be no going back. He was used to not being enough. What surprised him was how his inadequacy continued to hurt so much.

  “God, what do I do now?” he whispered.

  At 2:00 a.m., he remembered his buddy’s text. And it seemed to Canyon that God—and the National Park Service—had thrown him a much-needed lifeline. A temporary reprieve, but a reprieve nonetheless.

  Powering his phone, he quickly responded to his buddy’s text and then shut down his phone again. If only he could shut off the pain of his love for Kristina as easily. If only he could reconcile himself to the rest of his life. A life without Kristina.

  He wasn’t sure how he could continue to live next door, seeing her on a daily basis. Being so close and yet so far from everything he wanted with her. He wanted a life with her.

  About 5:00 a.m., Jade stumbled into the kitchen in her bathrobe and pajamas.

  He staggered to his feet. “Does something hurt? Are you sick?”

  “I’m fine.” She frowned. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” She flicked the switch.

  Grunting, he threw up his hand to protect his eyes.

  Coming around the chair, she draped her arms around his neck. “What’s going on?”

  He told her about the text.

  Sucking in a breath, she dropped her arms. “You’re leaving me?”

  He reached for her hand. “I’ll only be gone a few weeks. The wildfires started early this season.”

  She backed away. “You said you and me...we’d stick together.”

  “We talked about me being gone the usual two weeks in July. This just moves up the timetable. I’ll be back, I promise.”

  Her mouth hardened. “That’s what Brandi always said.”

  “Two weeks, honey. That’s all.”

  She gave him an elaborate, see-if-I-care shrug. “Right...”

  “Look at me, honey.” He tilted her chin till her gaze locked on to his. “You and me are for life.”

  She searched his face. “Really?”

  “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, kid.” He somehow managed a smile. “Or at least not until you fly toward the beautiful life God’s got in store for you, leaving your old man in the dust.”

  “Let me come with you.”

  Canyon sighed. “You can’t miss school. Maybe you could stay with Margaret. She’d love the company.”

  “What about Kristina?”

  He gave Jade a redacted version of what he overheard.

  “I’m sure she didn’t mean it the way it sounded. You must’ve misunderstood.”

  “Not much chance of misinterpreting what I heard.”

  Jade frowned. “You should tell her how you feel.”

  “I’ve said everything there is to say on my end. And she’s made it perfectly clear there can never be a future between us.”

  Jade planted her hands on her hips. “You two are so perfect for each other.”

  “Two weeks is all I’m asking, sweetheart. Space to work things out in my head.”

  She scrunched her face. “What does that mean? What are you going to work out?”

  “I wish I knew. That’s why I need time.”

  He grabbed her in a bear hug. She made a halfhearted attempt to pull away. “I’m still your dad, right?”

  “A bossy one.” She blew out a dramatic breath. “But I guess we’re stuck with each other now, huh?”

  “You got that right.”

  She looked at him out of those big green eyes of hers. “This has something to do with the Easter photo of Grandma Eileen you left on my dresser.”

  He moved toward the window. “It’s time to break the Collier curse for good, Jade. I can’t become Kristina’s Hap Wallace. I won’t allow what happened to my mother to ruin your life, too.”

  “I’d still like us to attend the sunrise service together before you go. One of the better Collier traditions. Please?”

  He was bound to see Kristina and Gray there. No chance of avoiding them. But Jade asked so little of him. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—deny her this.

  “I won’t change my mind about leaving, Jade.”

  She cinched the belt of her bathrobe around her waist. “I know. But I like the idea of us greeting Resurrection Day together. A new start after last night. A new dawn. A new life.”

  Canyon wished he shared her optimism. He felt old. Used up and worthless. Despite his efforts, helpless to change his destiny as a Collier. Did history always have to repeat itself?

  He didn’t bother to shave, but he put on a clean shirt and jeans. Jade surprised him. Her hair wound in a low bun, she donned a hunter-green corduroy dress over brown leggings. The color of the dress made her eyes appear as luminous as a tidal pool.

  Some things hadn’t changed, though. Like the black lipstick and fingernail polish. And the splash of magenta gleaming in her hair.

  Vestiges of the real Jade. For which he was thankful. Her essence, uniquely and wondrously crafted by God.

  She wobbled in her tall brown boots. “Do I look okay?” She grimaced. “Or dumb?”

  “Better than okay.” He threw out his arms. “Fabulous. Marvelous. Gorgeous.”

  “You’re such a dad.” She rolled her eyes. “No need to oversell it.”

  Canyon bit back a laugh and handed Jade her coat. “Even in April, it’ll be cool with the wind blowing off the water.”

  He grabbed his favorite coat—Hap’s well-worn, broken-in, super-comfortable leather flight jacket.

  It’d be easy to settle into Hap’s destiny. To love Kristina from afar. Stay here among new friends and church family.

  He was so thankful to God for helping him find the kids before it was too late. God had already done the biggest search and rescue on his heart.

  It was a short drive to the church parking lot. They shuffled toward the waterfront. Despite Margaret’s beckoning, he settled on the perimeter of the seawall to view the sunrise. Always the outsider looking in.

 
The inexorable ebb and flow of the waves washed the beach below. Water slapped against the hulls of boats tied to slips in the marina. The American and Coast Guard flags snapped taut in the brisk sea breeze.

  Only twenty-four hours had passed since he and Kristina watched the sunrise while they waited for news of their lost children. But a vast gulf now yawned between what was and what could never be.

  Across the harbor and the shadowy outline of barrier islands, the horizon at the edge of the world began to lighten. No clouds in the darkened sky. The sunrise would be a beauty.

  Cloistered with their family near the adjacent Coastie pier, Sawyer and Seth waved. For the first time, he felt a kinship with Kiptohanock watermen like Seth Duer. Men who earned their living based on their understanding of the elements of sea and sky.

  His internal radar went on full alert as he spotted Kristina standing between her brother, Weston, and Gray. Reverend Parks strode toward the mounted bell used in times of maritime disaster at the end of the pier.

  Canyon’s breath sent puffs of air into the April morning. In the coolness of the predawn hour, he appreciated the warmth of Hap’s jacket. Like the airfield, part of his legacy.

  Jade would always be his most important Collier legacy. She tucked her arm into the crook in his elbow. And when he contemplated how close he’d come to losing her, his stomach knotted.

  Blinking past those inconveniently timed allergies, he draped his arm across her shoulders.

  She patted his coat. “I wish you’d talk to Kristina.”

  His lips, stiff and cold, brushed against the top of her hair. “Kristina doesn’t want me.”

  “She’s staring at you.” Jade poked him in the side. “Look. I think she wants to talk.”

  Instead, he fixed his gaze on the church steeple. “Only thing I ever had to offer her was a messed-up family heritage. It’s for the best. I could never compare to Gray’s father.”

  “You don’t have to be anybody but yourself.” She jabbed him with her bony elbow this time. “Canyon Collier is more than good enough, in my completely unbiased opinion.”