The Soldier's Redemption

by Lee Tobin McClain

  “We’ve both got better odds because we know how to smile and socialize,” Willie said. “Ladies around here love us.”

  That was probably true. Unlike Finn, they both had the capacity for connection, the ability to form good relationships. He, on the other hand, didn’t have the personality that meshed easily with a woman’s. Too quiet, too serious. Deirdre had thrown that fact at him every time he caught her cheating.

  “Y’all be careful, now,” Penny said, giving the two men a stern look. “You know we don’t hold with drinking at the ranch, and that roadhouse is the eye of the storm.”

  “Rum and coke, hold the rum,” Willie promised.

  “Scout’s honor,” Long John said, holding up a hand in mock salute.

  The truck pulled away, and a couple of minutes later Finn and Penny reached the cabin driveway where Kayla was unloading her car. She put down her box, picked up a red rubber ball and squatted in front of her son. “You say hello,” she told the boy, “and then you can go throw the ball against the house.”

  The little boy swallowed, and his eyes darted in their direction and away. “Hi,” he said and then grabbed the ball and ran to the side of the cabin.

  “He’s a little shy,” Kayla said. She extended a hand to Penny. “I’m Kayla White. Are you Penny?”

  “That’s right.” Penny gave Kayla a frank appraisal. “I’m glad to meet you. Looking forward to having a little help around here. See how you like the work. And how the work likes you. Cleaning up after dogs isn’t for everyone.”

  “I’ve done worse.” Kayla’s color rose, like she’d read a challenge under Penny’s words. “I appreciate the chance to stay in the cabin, but we’re not going to really settle in until the trial week’s over. I know the job wasn’t intended for a mother and child.”

  “Sometimes the Good Lord surprises us,” Penny said. “Now, what can we do to help you move in?”

  “Not a thing.” Kayla brushed her hands on the sides of her jeans. “I’m about done. And I can do some work tomorrow, although it’ll be limited by Leo. I’m going to have him try that church camp on Monday.” She shaded her eyes to watch her son as he threw the ball against the house, caught it and threw it again.

  Looking at young Leo, Finn felt the lid on his memories start to come loose. Derek had loved to play ball, too. Finn had spent a lot of time teaching him to throw and catch and use a bat. Things a father was supposed to teach his son.

  His throat tightened, and he coughed to clear it. “We’ll take care of the work your first day here. You can start on Monday.” He was feeling the urge to be away from her and her child.

  She looked from Finn to Penny. “Well, but you’re giving me a place to stay early. I don’t want to be beholden.” She pushed back a strand of chocolate hair that had escaped her ponytail and fallen into her eyes.

  She was compact, but strong, with looks that grew on you slowly. Good thing she wasn’t his type. Back when he was in the market for a woman, he’d gone for bigger, bouncier, louder ladies. The fun kind.

  Yeah, and look where that got you.

  “I’m with Finn on having you start Monday, but I’ll tell you what,” Penny said. “We all go down to church on Sundays. Why don’t you join us? It’ll give your son a chance to get to know some of the other kids while you’re still nearby. That should make his first day at camp a little easier.”

  Finn turned his face so Kayla couldn’t see it and glared at Penny. Yeah, he’d hired Kayla—temporarily—but that didn’t mean they had to get all chummy in their time off.

  Still, it was church. He supposed he ought to be more welcoming. And he knew Penny missed her grown daughter, who for inexplicable reasons had sided with her father when Penny’s marriage had broken up. If Penny wanted to mother Kayla a little, he shouldn’t get in the way.

  Kayla bit her lip. “I’d like to get Leo to church,” she said. “We went some back home, but...well. It wasn’t as often as I’d have liked. I want to change that, now.”

  So she’d be coming to church with them every Sunday if she took the job? It wasn’t as if there was much of a choice; Esperanza Springs had only two churches, so it was fifty-fifty odds she’d choose theirs.

  Unless she wanted to get some breathing room, too.

  Or maybe she’d leave after a week. He intended to make sure the work was hard and long, so that she didn’t get too comfortable here.

  Because something about Kayla White was making him feel anything but comfortable.

  * * *

  As the church service ended in a burst of uplifting piano music, Kayla leaned back in the pew. Her whole body felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. Months, really.

  The little church had plain padded benches and a rough-hewn altar. Outside the clear glass windows, the splendor of the mountains put to shame any human effort at stained glass artistry.

  Leo had sat with her for half the service, reluctantly gone up to the children’s sermon and then followed the other kids out of the sanctuary with a desperate look back at Kayla. She’d forced herself not to rescue him and had made it ten minutes before giving in to her worries and going to check on him. She’d found him busily making crafts with the other young children, looking, if not happy, at least focused.

  Now beside her Penny stretched, stood and then sat back down. “Hey, I forgot to mention that Finn and I help serve lunch after church to the congregation and some hard-up folks in the community. Would you like to join us? If you don’t feel like working, you can just mingle until lunch is served.”

  The pastor—young, tanned and exuberant—had been visiting with the few people remaining in the pews, and he reached them just as Penny finished speaking. “We find we get more people to come to church when we offer a free meal,” he said and held out a hand to Kayla. “Welcome. We’re glad to have you here. I’m Carson Blair.”

  “Kayla White. I enjoyed your sermon.”

  He was opening his mouth to reply when two little girls, who looked to be a bit older than Leo, ran down the aisle at breakneck speed. They flung themselves at the pastor, one clinging to each leg, identical pouts on their faces.

  “Daddy, she hit me!”

  “She started it!”

  The pastor knelt down. “Skye, you need to go sit right there.” He indicated a pew on the left-hand side. “And, Sunny, you sit over here.” He pointed to the right.

  “But...”

  “We wanted to play!” The one he’d called Sunny looked mournfully at her twin.

  “Sit quietly for five minutes, and you can play together again.”

  Kayla smiled as the pastor turned back toward the small circle of adults. “Good tactics,” she said. “I have a five-year-old. I can’t imagine handling two.”

  Finn pushed himself out of the pew and ended up standing next to Kayla, leaning on his cane, facing the pastor. “Had a phone message from you,” he said to the pastor. “I’m sorry I didn’t return it. Weekend got away from me.”

  “We all know your aversion to the phone,” the pastor said, reaching out to shake Finn’s extended hand.

  “To conversation in general,” Penny said. “Finn’s the strong, silent type,” she added to Kayla.

  “Don’t listen to them,” Finn advised and then turned back toward the pastor. “What’s up?”

  “I was hoping to talk to you about your chaplain position. I know you can’t pay yet, but I’d be glad to conduct vespers once a week, or do a little counseling, as long as it doesn’t take away from my work here.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Finn’s answer didn’t seem very gracious for someone who’d just been offered volunteer services.

  The pastor looked at him steadily. “Do that.”

  “We certainly will,” Penny said. “But speaking of work, that lunch won’t get served without us. You coming?” she asked Kayla.
>
  “Absolutely. Lunch smells wonderful. I’m happy to help, if it will get me a plate of whatever’s cooking.”

  “We all partake,” the pastor said, shaking her hand again vigorously. “We’re glad to have you here. It’s rare that we get a fresh face.”

  “Won’t be so rare soon,” Penny warned. “We have a couple of new veterans coming in. And I’m working on getting Long John and Willie to church, too.”

  “You know the church does a van run,” the pastor said. “Sounds like you’ll need it. And we’ll gladly welcome the men and women who served our country.”

  Finn jerked his head to the side. “Let’s go.”

  In the church kitchen, organized chaos reigned. Finn handed aprons to Kayla and Penny and then donned one himself, choosing it from a special hook labeled with his name.

  “Why do you get your own apron?” she asked, because there didn’t seem to be anything special about it.

  “It’s king-size,” he said ruefully. “Those little things barely cover a quarter of me. Last Christmas, the volunteers went together to buy me this tent.”

  “And in return,” a white-haired woman said, “we make him carry all the heavy trays and boxes. Isn’t that right, Finn?”

  “Glad to, as long as you save me a piece of your strawberry-rhubarb pie, Mrs. Barnes.”

  Kayla was put to work dishing up little bowls of fruit salad while Penny helped Mrs. Barnes get everyone seated and Finn pulled steaming trays of chicken and rice from the ovens. A couple of other ladies carried baskets of rolls to each table and mingled with the guests, probably fifty or sixty people in all.

  It wasn’t a fancy church. As many of the congregation members wore jeans as dresses and suits, and seating for the meal was open. That meant there was no distinction between those who’d come just for the food and those who’d come for the service first. Nice.

  The children burst into the room and took over one corner, stocked with toys and a big rug. Kayla waited a minute and then went to check on Leo. She found him banging action figures with another kid in a zealous pretend fight.

  “Hey, buddy,” she said quietly, touching his shoulder.

  He flinched and turned. She hated that he did that. No matter what, she was going to make sure he gained confidence and stopped feeling like he was at risk all the time. Mitch had never hit him, to her knowledge, but yelling and belittling were almost as bad. And that last time, when he’d broken into their place and beaten Kayla, she’d looked up from the floor to see Leo crouched in the doorway, pale and silent, tears running down his cheeks.

  “Leo is quiet, but he seems to fit in,” said the woman who’d run the children’s program. “He’s a very polite little boy. I understand he’s going to do the day camp, too?”

  Kayla nodded. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

  “He’s welcome to sit at the kids’ table and eat. Most of the children do, though a few go sit with their parents.”

  Kayla turned back to Leo. “What do you think, buddy? Want to sit here with your new friends, or come sit with me and Miss Penny and Mr. Finn?”

  Leo considered.

  The other boy whacked his action figure. “ATTACK!” he yelled.

  Leo made his figure strike back, and the other boy fell on the floor, pretending he’d been struck.

  “I’ll stay with the kids,” Leo said and dived down to the floor to make his action figure engage in some hand-to-hand combat with the one the other boy was holding.

  Kayla watched them play for a moment as realization struck her. If she did, indeed, build a better life for Leo, it would mean he’d become more and more independent. He wouldn’t be tied to her by fear. He’d have regular friendships, sleepovers at other boys’ homes, camping trips.

  And where did that leave her, who’d centered her life around protecting her son for the past five years?

  It’ll leave me right where I should be, she told herself firmly. It would be good, normal, for Leo to gain independence. And if that made her nostalgic for his baby years of total reliance on her, that was normal, too. She could focus on the healthy ways parents and children related, instead of walking on eggshells to avoid offending Mitch.

  The lunch went quickly, partly because the serving staff ate in shifts and then hurried back to the kitchen to help with refills and cleanup. Kayla didn’t mind. She liked the camaraderie of working with others. And she liked having her stomach—and her son’s—full of delicious, healthy food.

  She was washing dishes when Mrs. Barnes came up beside her, towel in hand. “I’ll dry and put away,” she said. “Where are you from, dear?”

  “Arkansas,” Kayla said vaguely. “Small town.” Mrs. Barnes seemed harmless, but Kayla didn’t want to get into the habit of revealing too much.

  “And what brought you to Esperanza Springs? We don’t get a whole lot of newcomers.”

  Kayla was conscious of Finn nearby, carrying big empty serving dishes back to the sinks to be washed. “I was looking for a change,” she said. “I’ve always loved the mountains, so we thought we’d take our chances in Colorado.”

  “And what did you do back in Arkansas?”

  Kayla didn’t see malice in the other woman’s eyes, only a little too much curiosity. “I worked for a cleaning company,” she said. “Cleaning houses and offices and such.” No need to mention that she’d started it, and that it had been doing well. She hoped Janice, who’d taken it over, was managing okay. She’d been avoiding calling her, afraid word would get back to Mitch, but she needed to stop being afraid. She’d call Janice tonight.

  The kitchen was getting hotter, and Kayla dried off her hands and unbuttoned her sleeves. As she rolled them up, Mrs. Barnes went still. Behind her, Finn stared, too.

  Too late, she looked down and saw her arms, still a traffic wreck of bruises.

  “Oh, my, dear, what happened?” Mrs. Barnes put a gentle hand on Kayla’s shoulder.

  She didn’t look at either of them. “I fell.”

  It wasn’t a lie. Each time Mitch had hit her, she’d fallen.

  Someone called Mrs. Barnes to the serving counter. She squeezed Kayla’s shoulder and then turned away, leaving Finn and Kayla standing at the sink.

  He frowned at her, putting his hands on his hips. “If someone hurt you—”

  An Eighty-second Airborne tattoo peeked out from under the sleeve of his shirt. The same tattoo Mitch had.

  She took a step backward. “I need to go check on Leo,” she said abruptly and practically ran out of the kitchen, rolling down her sleeves as she went.

  Leo was drawing pictures with the same boy he’d been playing with before, but he jumped up and hugged her when she approached. “Mom! Hector goes to the day camp here, too! He’s gonna get me the cubby next to his and bring his Skytrooper tomorrow!” He flopped back down on the floor, propped on his arms, drawing on the same large piece of paper as his new friend.

  “That’s great, honey.” Kayla backed away and looked from Leo to the kitchen and back again. She was well and truly caught.

  Her whole goal was to provide a safe, happy home for Leo. And it looked like maybe she’d found that place. The ranch, the dogs, the church people, all were bringing out her son’s relaxed, happy side—a side she’d almost forgotten he had.

  But on the other hand, there was Finn—a dangerous man by virtue of his association with Mitch’s favorite, dedicated social circle. She knew how the Eighty-second worked.

  She grabbed a sponge and started wiping down tables, thinking.

  Finn had seen her bruises and gotten suspicious. If she let slip too much information, he might just get in touch with Mitch.

  On the other hand, maybe his tattoo was old and so was his allegiance. Maybe he’d gotten involved in broader veterans affairs. Not everyone stayed focused on their own little division of the service.

  She
had to find out more about Finn and how committed he was to his paratrooper brothers. And she had to do it quickly. Because Leo was already starting to get attached to this place, and truthfully, so was she.

  But she couldn’t let down her guard. She had to learn more.

  As she wiped a table, hypnotically, over and over, she concocted a plan. Once she’d finalized it, she felt better.

  By this evening, one way or another, she’d have the answer about whether or not they could stay. For Leo’s sake, she hoped the answer was yes.

  Chapter Three

  Late Sunday afternoon, Finn settled into his recliner and put his legs up. He clicked on a baseball game and tried to stop thinking.

  It didn’t work.

  He kept going back to those bruises on Kayla’s arms, the defensive secrecy in her eyes. All of it pretty much advertised a victim of abuse.

  If that were the case, he was in trouble. His primary responsibility was to the veterans here, and some angry guy coming in to drag Kayla away would up the potential for violence among a group of men who’d seen too much of it.

  That was bad.

  But worse, he was starting to feel responsible for Kayla and the boy. They were plucky but basically defenseless. They needed protection.

  If he sent them away, he’d be putting them at risk.

  His phone buzzed, a welcome break from his worries. He clicked to answer. “Gallagher.”

  “Somethin’ curious just happened.” It was Long John’s voice.

  Finn settled back into his chair. “What’s that, buddy?” Unlike Willie, Long John had no family, and with his Agent Orange–induced Parkinson’s, he couldn’t get out a lot. He tended to call Finn with reports of a herd of elk, or an upcoming storm, or a recommendation about caring for one of the dogs.

  It was fine, good, even. Finn didn’t have much family himself, none here in Colorado, and providing a listening ear to lonely vets gave him a sense of purpose.