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BOH 8-21-07 (00178434).DOC

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by Unknown


  He tossed the sponge and swung around. “Spit it

  out.” She shifted her position and brushed at her skirt

  before meeting his eyes. “You’re an adult. You know what

  can happen when a man and woman share living space

  for any length of time. The minute she realizes what a

  catch you are, she’ll be all over you.”

  Mike’s temper sizzled. The woman was either dense

  or more determined than he’d realized. Either way, he’d

  had enough. “Not another word. Please go.” He held up

  his hand when she opened her mouth to argue.

  His shoulders slumped with relief when the front

  door slammed with enough force to shake the pictures on

  the walls. He kneaded his temples, in an attempt to stave

  off a tension headache.

  “Daddy?”

  Mustering a smile, he squatted on the floor and held

  out his arms to catch the tiny body launching at him.

  “What is it sweet pea? Why aren’t you asleep?” Smelling

  his daughter’s soapy sweetness momentarily righted his

  world.

  “Heard yelling. Is Doreen mad?”

  Mike chuckled. “You could say that. She won’t be

  taking care of you any more, Katy,” he said and braced

  himself for a tantrum.

  She snuggled closer. “Good. I don’t like her.”

  Mike lurched to his feet and picked up his drowsy-

  eyed daughter. “What?” How had he misread the signals?

  “I thought you and Doreen were friends.”

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  Bridge of Hope

  “Can I have a drink of water?”

  “Sure, then it’s back to bed.” He stuffed his curiosity

  about Katy’s remark and thoughts of Cyn sleeping in the

  living room to the back of his mind. Tomorrow he’d tell

  Katy about their new houseguest.

  Using one hand, he filled a small Dixie cup with

  water. “Here you go.”

  She drained the cup and handed it back to him.

  “Doreen was only nice to me when you were here. Mostly,

  she told me to stay in my room and play.”

  Mike clenched his jaw. He wanted to pound the

  counter. His fury diminished with Katy’s next words.

  “Who’s that lady sleeping on the couch?”

  He forgot about Doreen. So much for his plan to

  explain Cyn’s presence in the morning. “I’ll tell you all

  about her when I tuck you in.”

  “’Kay.”

  Cyn opened her eyes and wondered where she was.

  She lay on a brown corduroy couch. A jackhammer

  pounded in her head. Her eyes were swollen from all the

  tears she’d shed. Awareness returned with the force of

  white water in the Hope River during the spring. Peter

  was dead. Gone from her life forever. Memories

  bombarded her senses. Standing on the Hope River

  Bridge, one leg on the rail.

  Her body trembled. Oh, God. Had she really thought

  about killing herself? Shame battled grief for a front row

  seat. “Why are you crying?”

  Startled, Cyn opened her eyes. Turning her head, she

  came face-to-face with a little girl sitting crossed-legged

  on the floor. Mike’s daughter regarded her with a serious

  expression way too serious for a child.

  “I’m not. See?” Cyn smiled and fought the desire to

  reach over and stroke her hair. “You must be Katy.”

  Blond curls bobbed as she shook her head. “And

  you’re Mrs. Jenks.”

  “That’s a mouthful. Call me Cyn.”

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  Pam Champagne

  “And you’re gonna stay with us.”

  Dread trickled through Cyn’s veins. “Guess so. For a

  while anyway.”

  “Do you like to play games?”

  Mike walked into the room. “Katy, don’t bother Mrs.

  Jenks.”

  Cyn dropped her gaze unable to deal with the pity

  she knew she’d see in Mike’s eyes.

  “She said to call her Cyn.”

  “Breakfast’s ready. Hope you’re both hungry. Cyn?”

  She forced her gaze to his warm smile.

  As if reading her mind, he said, “Bathroom’s the

  second door on the right in the hall. There’s another

  upstairs if you prefer. We’ll be waiting in the kitchen.”

  Cyn hurried to the bathroom, splashed cold water on

  her face and smoothed her unruly hair as best she could.

  A tube of toothpaste lay on the sink. Squeezing a small

  amount on her finger, she rubbed it over her teeth, rinsed

  her mouth and made a beeline toward the smell of

  cooking bacon. Katy had been so open and trusting. She

  looked forward to spending time with the little girl.

  Mike leaned against the counter with a spatula in his

  hand as she entered the kitchen.

  Katy sat at the table drinking orange juice. She

  patted the seat next to her. “Sit beside me.”

  “Sure. I’m starving.”

  “Me, too. Hurry up, Daddy.”

  Mike pointed his spatula at them. “Just hold your

  horses, sweet pea.”

  The hunger pains turned to nausea when Mike set a

  platter of pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon on the

  table.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Mike warned from across

  the table.

  Cyn thrust her chin forward. “Think about what? I’m

  not very hungry.”

  “You’ll eat if I have to spoon the food down your

  throat.”

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  Bridge of Hope

  Cyn pushed back her chair. Shit. Having an

  argument with Mike about whether or not to eat

  breakfast would set a terrible example for his daughter.

  Katy giggled behind her napkin. “He says that to me

  all the time.” She winked and cupped her hand to her

  mouth to whisper, “He won’t do it. I promise.”

  Cyn sighed and looked at Mike. He grinned and his

  green eyes twinkled with suppressed laughter. She

  couldn’t help but smile back. Forcing an enthusiasm she

  didn’t feel, she spooned some scrambled eggs and bacon

  onto her plate. “No school today, Katy?”

  “Today’s Saturday. Did you forget?”

  The heavy weight of depression settled on her

  shoulders. She’d totally lost track of time since the Army

  officers had knocked on her door with the news about

  Peter. “I guess I did.”

  Mike poured a glass of orange juice and slid it across

  the table in her direction. “I have the weekend off so I

  thought perhaps we could arrange for the movers to bring

  your belongings here.”

  She coughed a few times and cleared her throat.

  “Here? There’s no room. I’ll put it in storage. Or better

  yet, I’ll scout around today for an apartment.” She’d never

  be able to return to the apartment she’d shared with

  Peter.

  “That’s not part of the agreement, Cynthia. I have

  space above the garage.”

  Cynthia? Whoa, the man was ticked off. Looked like

  Mike Spencer was determined to stick to the deal they

  made last night. She shrugged and snapped shut the lid

  on her temper. “Your call.”

  “Do you have a job? Enough money saved
to pay a

  security deposit, plus first and last month’s rent?”

  “No, but—”

  “It’ll take a while for the military to process Peter’s

  life insurance policy and death benefits.”

  Could he read her mind? “I’m not sure living here is a

  good idea.”

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  Pam Champagne

  “Why not?” Katy piped in.

  Mike’s eyes never left her face. “For the moment, you

  don’t have a choice. In return for room and board, I would

  ask that you take care of Katy on the nights I work.

  Before you leave, I’ll find another sitter.”

  Cyn frowned and suppressed a shiver at the memory

  of the horrible woman who’d verbally attacked her the

  night before. “What about Doreen? I thought she took care

  of Katy.”

  “Not any more,” Katy piped up. “She got jealous, and

  Dad fired her.”

  “Katy!” Mike shouted at the same time that Cyn

  laughed. That one small spill of laughter warmed her and

  her stomach actually growled with hunger.

  Katy bounded from the chair and skipped across the

  linoleum. “Gotta go clean my room.”

  “Smart kid,” Cyn said, putting a forkful of pancake in

  her mouth.

  Mike grinned. “Too damn smart.”

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  Bridge of Hope

  Chapter Four

  Cyn huddled in the passenger seat, gripping the

  folded American flag lying on her lap. Mike swore her

  fixed straight-ahead gaze saw nothing. Cyn had started to

  come out of her shell in the past few weeks. She’d opened

  up. Sadness still lurked in her eyes, but she’d made

  efforts to participate in the day-to-day happenings. Even

  helped Katy with her homework every night.

  The pale woman beside him today was the one he’d

  first found on the Hope Bridge.

  The cold drizzle that arrived at dawn had turned to a

  steady rain during Peter Jenks’ graveside service. Saying

  goodbye to the dead in gloomy weather always put him in

  a somber mood. Gray skies, moaning winds and soldiers

  shedding tears for their downed comrade brought old man

  depression knocking on his door.

  Cyn’s stamina during the on-base funeral had

  astounded him. Hell, she’d been a trooper coping with her

  loss. She’d made the arrangements and insisted on

  meeting the transport plane that brought Peter’s body

  home. She’d done it all with strong determination.

  With the arrival of rain, she’d shut down. She’d

  barely acknowledged the mourners’ condolences. He’d

  kept her in his scope, prepared to rescue her from a sticky

  situation should one arise. She’d held her emotions in

  check even when TAPS was played.

  Cyn’s voice jolted him from his somber musings. “Are

  we picking up Katy?”

  “Katy is spending the night with her school friend.”

  Cyn twisted in her seat. “Because of me?”

  Mike chuckled. “No. She’s been hounding me for

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  Pam Champagne

  weeks to spend the night with Misty. She loves staying

  there. She’ll chatter on for days about baking cookies with

  Misty’s mother.” Mike pushed away a spear of guilt for

  not providing his daughter with a normal family. She

  needed a mother.

  “Why haven’t you remarried?”

  It shouldn’t have, but her question startled him. “The

  infamous inquiry that I get asked at least once a week.”

  “I’m curious.”

  He bit his tongue to keep from telling her to mind her

  own damn business. At least she was talking. “I guess I

  haven’t met the right woman.”

  “Are you saying no woman could replace your wife?”

  Mike frowned as the truth hit him. She didn’t want

  to know about him. Cyn wanted to know what her own

  future held. She wondered if she’d ever love again.

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying,” he hedged. “I have

  Katy to think about, as well as myself.” He abruptly

  changed the subject as he drove into the driveway. “Your

  first appointment with the counselor is tomorrow at nine.”

  “So soon?”

  He turned off the ignition and his heart skipped a

  beat at the fear in her eyes. He reached over and covered

  the hand still hanging onto the flag for dear life. “I know

  the doctor. I think you’ll like her.”

  “Don’t count on it,” she muttered. Her mouth curved

  into a smile that even a child would have recognized as

  forced. “I’m doing quite well on my own. I don’t need—”

  “Forget it, Cyn. A deal’s a deal.” He climbed out of

  the truck before she could protest.

  The house was eerily quiet without Katy. Perhaps

  he’d made a mistake letting her spend the night at

  Misty’s. Her boundless energy might be a distraction for

  Cyn—keep her thoughts away from the past and worrying

  about an uncertain future. She’d gone straight for the

  couch when they’d entered the house and now sat there

  hugging the flag to her chest.

  “Want some coffee?” he asked, hanging his coat in the

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  Bridge of Hope

  closet.

  That earned him a negative head shake.

  “Tea?”

  “Nothing, thank you.”

  He walked into the kitchen, turned on the burner

  under the teakettle, and then whipped together a chicken

  and vegetable casserole while the water heated to a boil.

  A few minutes later, Mike set two cups of tea on the

  coffee table and lowered himself next to Cyn on the couch.

  Today, she’d worn her hair knotted at the base of her

  neck. In the short time he’d been in the kitchen, she’d

  pulled out the pins and blonde curls spilled around her

  shoulders.

  He reached over to take the flag out of her hands and

  the fingers of his right hand brushed her warm breast. A

  jolt of desire shot through him like he hadn’t felt since

  Mary Jo died. He yanked his hand back and noticed that

  she hadn’t reacted to his touch.

  He cleared his throat and pulled the flag from her

  hands. “When it stops raining, we’ll fly this on the

  flagpole in the yard. I can’t think of a better way to honor

  Peter’s memory.”

  Her expression softened. “Thank you. He would have

  liked that.”

  Still grappling with his physical response from a

  simple touch, he blurted, “How old are you?

  She focused puzzled eyes on him. “What?”

  His eyes roamed her peaches and cream complexion

  and the way her lips slightly trembled. God help him.

  What kind of man lusted after woman who’d just buried

  her husband? “I just realized that I know so little about

  you,” he fudged.

  “Oh. My birthday was a few weeks ago. I’m twenty-

  four.”

  So damn young. He had a good twelve years on her.

  “And you?”

  Mike laughed. Tit for tat. “A lot older than you.”

  She shrugged. “Age doesn’t matter in t
he grand

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  Pam Champagne

  scheme of things.”

  “Ah, spoken by someone on the right side of thirty.”

  He handed her a cup. “It’s green tea. I’ve got a casserole

  in the oven. No,” he said when she opened her mouth to

  protest. “You need to eat.”

  She heaved a sigh. “I’ll try.”

  “That’s all I ask.” He rose and went to the kitchen to

  check on their meal.

  Mike pressed his forehead against the cool

  windowpane and watched the rain bounce off the

  pavement. From the beginning, he’d thought of Cyn as

  nothing more than a houseguest—a young woman with a

  broken heart who needed help getting back on her feet.

  Today, she’d buried her husband. And his mind had

  taken a sudden 180º turn without conscious thought.

  Shame burned from within. The sooner Cyn got back on

  her feet, the better. Either the wind or rain turned on the

  outdoor sensor light, drawing his attention to the garage.

  Why hadn’t he thought of it before? The mother-in-

  law’s apartment where he’d stored her things. Even

  though he and Mary Jo had talked about renting it, they

  never actually followed through with the plans. Up until

  now, he’d always considered it as a storage place. Now it

  seemed like an answer to everyone’s needs, his own as

  well as Cyn’s. She’d have more freedom, yet he’d be right

  here if she needed him. After a time of counseling, it

  would be a perfect place to transition to a new life.

  Perhaps if he didn’t see her every day, these

  unexpected longings would dissipate. Raising his

  daughter as a single dad created enough problems in his

  life. The last thing he needed was to fall in love with a

  grieving widow twelve years his junior.

  Thirty minutes later, Mike leaned against the

  doorjamb watching Cyn hide her face in the couch pillows.

  He knew exactly what emotions churned in her heart.

  Peter’s death had left a wound that she doubted would

  ever heal. She’d breathe, eat and sleep because people

  told her to. Her eyelids fluttered but refused to stay open.

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  Bridge of Hope

  She tried to sit up before she lay back and closed her eyes.

  Mike remembered all too well the dark void that engulfed

 

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