A Hero to Rescue Me (Hero's Crossing)

by Karland, Marteeka

  “You wouldn’t—”

  The line went dead.

  In a panic, Melanie dialed the number of her caseworker, the woman assigned to manage the transition from Melanie being merely an adoring aunt to Abigail’s actual guardian before adopting the child.

  “Melanie!” Jennifer’s bright voice eased some of her fears. If anything were truly amiss, Jennifer would know and give it to her straight.

  “I don’t know what to do, Jenn. Dan is threatening to block the adoption. Can he really do that?”

  There was a pause while Jennifer punched in something on the computer. “OK. I see where he called. The note in your case file says he’s concerned about your new boyfriend. That he’s a total stranger and is concerned for Abigail’s wellbeing. He says the man threatened him, that there was a room full of witnesses. That the man claimed to be suffering from PTSD and he’s afraid of what will happen to Abigail should the man suffer a setback.” Jennifer asked, “Any truth to this?”

  Melanie relayed the entire story to Jennifer, including the conversation between her and Dan when he’d suggested she give Abigail over to a foster home. Even knowing it would put her in a tenuous position, Melanie told her how Dan had gotten her fired.

  “I know that doesn’t help me, but I will find other employment. There’s no doubt in my mind he had them let me go specifically for this purpose. Get you guys to take Abigail and, in his sick, twisted mind, all his problems are solved.”

  “Well, it sheds new light on the situation, though I don’t think they’d have taken Dan’s word for any of it. Yes, there will be a visit scheduled, but that’s routine. You know that. Unless Abigail shows signs of distress or says something that alarms anyone at her school so they file a complaint, no one will get involved with Chase. But if it were me, I’d make sure he was with you when they do the home visit. Let them meet him.”

  “Are you telling me this as a friend or my caseworker?”

  Jennifer laughed merrily. “Both, actually. We’ve known each other since grade school. I trust your judgment. You love Abigail like she was your own, have practically raised her from birth. I’m on your side in this. If push comes to shove, I’ve got your back. Both personally and professionally.”

  The phone call made Melanie feel better. At least she had someone helping on the inside. This was Thursday. Tomorrow they went to the baseball game with Chase. Starting bright and early Monday morning, she’d go job hunting and wouldn’t stop until she had sound employment. When social services came calling, she’d have ammunition to fight for Abigail, no matter what Dan threw at her.

  ***

  With all the information Chase had gathered about Abigail’s situation, a plan had formed. Fortunately for him, he was blessed with a loving, big-hearted family. When he told them how she’d lost her job because of Dan, they immediately looked at the family contracting business and found a place for her in accounting. Not actually with the business, but with the apartment buildings the company owned in conjunction. She’d have to either move or commute, but they’d pay well.

  Chase’s brother even secured housing for her at the “family” rate. It was a huge decision for Melanie, but one he was proud to present her with. It might not be the best option, but it was an option.

  He wanted to call Melanie, to tell her his plan, but thought it best to let his mother take care of that particular task. She had a way of doing things like this without seeming intrusive.

  So he put his cell phone back in his pocket.

  For all of fifteen seconds.

  Glancing at the time, he almost put it up. Eight-thirty wasn’t that late, but he had no idea what time she put Abigail to bed. Or what time she went herself. Dammit! He wanted to talk to her!

  With a sigh, he moved to put the phone in his pocket again. This time, he didn’t make it. Not even close.

  Before he could change his mind—again—he stabbed the phone with his thumb. It rang twice before she picked up.

  “Just thought I’d check in with you,” he said lamely. “Everything still a go for tomorrow evening?”

  “Are you kidding? Abigail would have my head if I backed out. Besides, I think I’m looking forward to it as much as she is.”

  Chase could almost see her smile. If he lived to be a hundred, he was certain he’d never tire of seeing Melanie’s smile. It just made him want to be with her that much more. Yeah. He had it bad. Thing was, he didn’t give a damn.

  “Good. Can’t deny I’m looking forward to it as well. I would have driven down today and camped outside your house, but that would have just been creepy.”

  “Oh, stop it. We wouldn’t have let you sleep outside the house.” Her laughter was genuine, sweet, a soothing balm to the soul-deep wounds that still plagued him sometimes. He doubted he’d ever truly be rid of them—wasn’t certain he really wanted to be—but he knew Melanie would forever soothe him, keep the worst nightmares at bay. Only thing was, she had no idea, hadn’t formed that kind of connection with him.

  “So you’d have invited me in.”

  “Oh, goodness no! We’d have gotten you a motel room. But I’d make sure it’d be one with a good reputation, clean sheets, and no bed bugs.”

  Her laughter spilled over before she finished her declaration, making Chase laugh as well. His Melanie had spunk, so much life. Could he be what she needed? Could she come to depend on him the way he had her?

  When the laughter died down, there was silence from both of them. It should have been awkward, but it felt more companionable.

  “I have a question to ask you, Melanie.” This was going to be hard. On both of them. Better to get it over with now so they could enjoy the ballgame with nothing between them. “Before I do, I need you to promise me something.”

  “You sound serious.”

  “Very. Promise me that you’ll talk to me now. I want this over and done with before Friday.”

  “Seems like an easy enough request.” She sounded wary, but game. Not a dummy, his Melanie.

  “Was Abigail’s father named Michael Bowman?”

  Silence.

  Her breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

  “He was.”

  “I suspected, but wasn’t sure.”

  “Did you know him?” She sounded breathless, her voice tight. Please, don’t let this be a deal breaker for her. She had to know, but could he stand to lose her if she couldn’t bear it?

  “I was on the pararescue team sent to retrieve his unit. We had all of them but two. I went after one—my best friend, Ritchie, had Bowman. I was behind, bringing up the rear. Commanding officer on the field. You know, first one on. Last one off.” Her little hiccup signaled a tiny sob she tried to hide, but he continued. If he was going to be damned, he’d be damned good. “I watched Ritchie stumble when the bullet hit his leg. I watched the next one tear through his chest. Bowman fell, but tried to help Ritchie, though he had an abdominal wound himself. I passed them, getting my man to the helo before going back.

  “I don’t remember much of how we actually got Bowman and Ritchie back to the helo, but I did my best to comfort Bowman on the way back to base. Ritchie was dead long before that.”

  He took a shuddering breath before continuing. “I promised Bowman I’d get him home and I did. Just not the way I’d hoped. I found out later he had a daughter, and when I got your first Christmas card, I noticed the name. Pretending she was Bowman’s daughter kept me sane, Melanie. Every time I wrote to her, I hoped it helped her heal.

  “In that first letter,” he continued, “she said she missed her daddy and that maybe we could help each other. Well, she helped me. She probably saved my life. Damned sure saved my sanity. When I found myself in your home town, getting ready to knock on your door, I wasn’t sure how you’d accept me, or even if you could. Now…now that you know...”

  “Stop.” Chase’s heart sank. Maybe it had been too much too soon for her. If so, he’d just blown any chance he had of winning her heart. Maybe she was angry. Hurt. All he k
new was that a little piece of him started dying when her voice broke on the single word.

  “I’m sorry, Melanie.”

  “I said, stop! Just stop right there.” She took a deep breath, sniffed, then continued. “You tried to save a man you didn’t even know. You lost a member of your team and your best friend, yet you took time to comfort a dying stranger when you could have been grieving. There’s nothing—nothing—for you to be sorry about.”

  “So…does that mean you’ll still let me take you and Abigail to the game?”

  She giggled, sniffling. Even as his relief overwhelmed him, Chase’s heart still ached from every single tear he knew she was shedding. The last thing he wanted was for her to cry, especially when he wasn’t there to dry her eyes.

  “It will take more than that for you to wiggle out of this date, mister. If you’re not here by four o’clock sharp, I will personally hunt you down. Could get messy.”

  “Hmmm…” he mused, trying to sound impressed. “Sounds like a good wrestling match. Only one question.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Will pudding or Jell-O be involved?”

  Laughter on the other end eased his mind, but he was still worried. Probably would be until he saw her again and looked into her eyes. He wanted to see the attraction and welcome he’d seen in them before. Craved it. Craved her.

  “Could be. Which would you prefer?”

  “I’d say Jell-O so there’d at least be a chance of it not globing in your hair, but I’ve discovered I have a real need for chocolate pudding.”

  “I’d love to say you were a freak for saying that, but, truth is, I’m kinda glad you did.”

  “Are you, then?”

  “Maybe. Pudding wrestling with you might be kinda fun.”

  “Oh, baby, you have no idea.” Sweet God! The mere thought shot him rock-hard.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, I guess that gives me something to think about tonight.”

  “Me too.” Her reply was breathy, sounding almost as needy as he felt. Maybe everything would work out after all.

  Chapter Six

  If she made it through this, Melanie would congratulate herself with the biggest bowl of Ben and Jerry’s known to man. She and Abigail had followed Chase to Lexington and the Whitaker Bank Ballpark, home of the Lexington Legends.

  Chase had met them precisely at four, just like he’d said he would. He’d helped Abigail settle into the backseat, her seat belt securely fastened, then held the door as Melanie climbed into her car. But not before catching her gaze with his. For a moment, she just knew he was going to kiss her, but Abigail’s insistence they “get a move on” prevented it. Instead, he grinned at her—that mind-scrambling grin—and gave her a chaste peck on the cheek. As she thought about it now, her cheek still tingled where his lips had pressed against them.

  When she pulled into the parking area, she followed Chase closely. He made sure they parked side by side, paying for the parking beforehand, then grinned at them as they exited the car.

  “You ready for a game, little princess?” Chase called her by the nickname she’d told him she wanted in her letters. The difference between him and Dan was so profound, it was scary to think Melanie had put up with Dan’s indifference to the child she thought of as a daughter for so long.

  “Buy me some peanuts and Craaaaaacker Jaaaaacks…” Abigail sang, so off key the song was almost unrecognizable. Then Chase joined her. “I don’t care if I never get baaaaaak…”

  “Lord, you two…”

  Abigail looked up at her, eyes wide and innocent looking. “Don’t you like our singing, Mommy Melanie?”

  “Of course I do, dear. At least I like yours. Chase is a bit off key.”

  “I am not!” Chase looked so indignant, Melanie almost felt bad. “Tell her, Princess Abbie.”

  The little girl tilted her head, her fingers absently tapping at her bottom lip, probably in a gesture she’d seen from Melanie. “Well, you do sound a little bad. Not really bad, though. Just a little.”

  “Why, you little imp!” Chase snagged the little girl. She squealed as he tossed her over his shoulder and tickled her ribs. Abigail kicked and thrashed, obviously loving the game.

  It was then Melanie noticed an attractive older couple flanked by three good-looking men. The men all looked enough like Chase there was no mistaking these five people were his family.

  “Put the child down and slowly back away.” The biggest of the three younger men said, face serious.

  “You gonna make me, Rick? Little Princess here has it coming.”

  Rick raised an eyebrow. “And what did Little Princess do to the big bad pararescue officer?”

  Chase raised his chin indignantly, his arm still soundly around Abigail’s waist as he held her over his shoulder. “She told me I sang ‘a little bad.’ Tell her. I’m a great singer!”

  “I see,” Rick offered. “Well, I can’t argue with her on that count.”

  Abigail giggled. “See? I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

  “You’d take the Little Princess’s side over mine? Not cool, Bro… Not cool.”

  Chase put Abigail down and the child promptly raised her hands for him to pick her up, which he did. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly on the cheek. “I don’t care if you sing badly. You can still sing with me anytime you want.”

  Chase’s mother put her hand over her mouth, looking as if she might cry. The older woman looked up at her husband, who promptly wrapped his arms around her. The boys immediately moved in front of them, offering their hands in introduction, as well as giving the couple a moment to recover.

  Rick, Mike, and Steve. All three military or ex-military, all three as charming as their younger brother.

  By the time introductions had finished, Chase’s mother and father stepped forward. “You’ll have to excuse us,” his father said. “This is all a bit overwhelming.”

  Melanie stiffened, trying not to let the panic show. If they were going to say something about her or Abigail being black, she’d probably throw up. To be so close to having Chase in her life for the long haul only to have it taken away by careless words would be too much for her to handle.

  With his words, Mrs. Carver burst into tears, lunging for Melanie and throwing her arms around her with more strength than the slightly built woman had a right to have. “It’s so very good to finally meet you,” she managed through her tears. “I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t found Chase.”

  Too stunned for words, Melanie simply hugged the older woman back, unexpectedly near tears herself. Without question, these were good people.

  Abigail, unused to seeing Melanie upset, wiggled from Chase’s arms, running to Melanie and wrapping her arms around her waist. “Mommy?”

  “Oh, baby.” Melanie laughed through her tears, leaning down to hug the child. “I’m fine. I’m just happy.” She indicated the older woman. “This is Chase’s mother.”

  “My name’s Vivian,” she said. “And I’m very pleased to meet you, Princess Abbie.”

  Mollified, Abigail flashed Vivian a winning smile, obviously pleased the woman had referred to her as “Princess Abbie.”

  “Leland Carver,” Vivian’s husband said as he approached her. Automatically, Melanie held out her hand in greeting, but the older man pushed it away with a grin and enfolded her in his strong arms. “Not going to greet the woman who saved my son’s life with a handshake,” he said gruffly, gripping her shoulders when he pulled away, a kind smile making the corner of his eyes crinkle just like his son’s. “Consider yourself part of the family, young lady.”

  Looking at Chase for direction, he laughed and took her hand. “Melanie was concerned you might not…accept her so readily.”

  Vivian looked absolutely scandalized, and Melanie elbowed Chase in the ribs. “I can’t believe you said that!” she hissed at him, but he and his brothers only chuckled at her.

  “One thing you’ll learn about Mama,” Mi
ke offered, “is that, as long as her boys are happy, and treated well, she could give a damn what race, nationality, religion, or social standing anyone is from. In this case, I think you could be a transgendered hooker and she would have welcomed you with open arms.” He seemed to think about that statement a moment then amended, “Well, with a handshake at least. The hooker thing might be a bit much even for her.”

  “Mommy Melanie? What’s a hooker?”

  “Mike Carver, you are not too old for me to beat your behind!” Vivian gave her son a stern look while everyone else snickered. “Come here, Abigail.” Vivian reached out her hand for the child. Let’s you and me take your Mommy Melanie and find our seats. We’ll let the”—she looked pointedly at Mike—“gentlemen bring the refreshments.”

  “But I want to know—”

  “Where the mascot is so you can have your picture taken?” Melanie interrupted the child smoothly, knowing she’d never let it go unless distracted. “Probably inside the stadium. If you want to find out, we have to get inside.”

  “I’ll catch up to you in a minute,” Chase called out, giving her a “thumbs up” sign. When he did catch up to them, she’d probably kill him for deserting her with his mother.

  They found their seats easy enough. Behind home plate, ten rows up. When they were settled, Vivian turned to her, a quizzical look on her face.

  “Chase tells me you’re an accountant?”

  Melanie stiffened. How much had Chase related to his mother? She might really have to kill him.

  “I am. I’m most familiar with billing and payroll. I worked for a law firm in my home town.”

  “Worked? Does that mean you’d be available? Because I’m in desperate need at the moment.” Without waiting for Melanie to answer, Vivian continued. “My husband and I, along with Mike, own a group of apartment complexes. I’ve been doing the accounting, but my health isn’t what it used to be and the doctors want me to retire. I’ve been looking for a replacement, but I’ve not found anyone I trust. Do you think that, if I let you look things over, you’d be willing to help me out? Even if it’s just part time, if you couldn’t commit until you were comfortable with the arrangement, it would get my doctors, and Leland, off my back.”