Uncle Sarge

by Bonnie Gardner

  He reached for the doorknob, but he couldn’t make his hand close over it. Once he stepped inside, Jennifer would go. Then he’d be all alone.

  All alone with the kids. All alone without Jennifer to help him muddle through.

  He sucked in a deep breath.

  All alone without Jennifer.

  He couldn’t help thinking that when she was gone, that would be the end of it. The end of something that hadn’t yet begun, but had shown some promise.

  Or had he been reading more into it than he should have?

  Had he only been reacting to her because of gratitude for her finding Sherry and helping with the kids? Or had it been something more? A real connection?

  No, he shook that thought away. What did he know about connecting with someone? All he knew was that he wanted Jennifer.

  Rich adjusted the armload of stuff and reached for the door again, but it swung inward before his fingers closed over the knob.

  “I thought maybe your hands were too full and you couldn’t get the door open,” Jennifer said as she stepped aside and held the door wide.

  Apparently, she couldn’t wait to make her escape, Rich couldn’t help thinking. He put the remaining bags by the door and turned to her. He wasn’t about to prolong this, so he’d just as well send her on her way.

  “Thanks,” he said, offering his hand. “I couldn’t have made it through the day without you.”

  Jennifer looked up at him, then down at his hand. She started to reach out, then closed her fingers and snatched them away. She blinked and looked up at him again. “Yeah, sure,” she said. Her hand stayed clenched at her side. “I’ll just get my purse, and I’ll be out of your way.” She scurried into the room like a frightened mouse, then returned to the door the same way. “Thank you for letting me meet your sister,” she said as she edged past him. “I liked her.”

  “Yeah. I like her, too,” Rich said, wondering at this stupid, awkward conversation. Jennifer had to get the hell out of Dodge, or stay, but she needed to do it quick.

  Jennifer raised a hand to wave goodbye.

  Rich couldn’t stand it. He had to have one last kiss. It might be the last time he saw her, and he wanted to be sure she wouldn’t forget him. He sure wouldn’t forget her. Jennifer might want to walk away, but he wanted to make it damned hard.

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. She didn’t resist, Rich noted as he felt her soft breasts flatten against his chest. He looked into her eyes and she up into his. She swallowed, her throat contracting, her chest rising and falling. She moistened her lips.

  She must have known what was coming as well as he did, maybe better, and satisfaction surged through Rich. He was going to win this battle.

  He slanted his mouth over hers and tried to tell her with his kiss how he felt. How much he needed her.

  And not just to help him take care of his sister’s kids.

  He’d meant to deliver just a simple kiss, just long enough to convey his feelings, his gratitude, for the way Jennifer had helped him out, but as soon as it started, he knew he was lost. One taste of her tender lips, and he wanted more.

  Rich didn’t know what he was thinking. Hell, maybe he wasn’t thinking at all, just feeling, but he forced his fingers into that loose braid and pulled her hair free of its restraints. He plowed through her silken tresses and cupped her head, drawing her closer. It was almost as if he wanted to crawl inside her. He wanted to…

  He stopped himself and pulled away. He couldn’t be thinking that. He barely knew the woman. If he kept this up, he’d send her running from him and he’d never get to know her better.

  HEART RACING and gasping like she’d just run a marathon, Jennifer wriggled out of Rich’s arms, pulled the door shut behind her and stood, her body pressed against the other side. She raised her trembling hand and touched her lips, swollen and sore from Rich’s sensuous assault against them. She didn’t have to touch them to feel how he had bruised them and brought them alive. How could the man keep setting her so off balance?

  How could a simple handshake have come to this?

  She leaned against the door and willed her heart rate to return to normal. Apparently, she had as much ability to control that as she had to control herself around him. As much as she wanted to stay, Jennifer knew that the only way her heart would be safe would be if she stayed away.

  Because every time she found herself in the same room with Richard A. Larsen, she found it more and more difficult to resist him.

  He was fairly unsophisticated in his interactions with her. No, he wasn’t flirty and smooth like Ski, but Ski didn’t draw her to him like Rich did. There was something elemental within the man that dragged her helplessly toward him like a scrap of metal to a magnet. That’s what scared her to death.

  She wasn’t scared of Rich, but of the way he almost compelled her to go to him. And he didn’t even have to ask.

  Jennifer gasped and that simple realization propelled her away from the door. She had to get away, and she had to stay away….

  But she had to help him, too. She might not want to get involved with their uncle, but she cared about those children and they needed her help. If she was unwilling to do it herself, she’d have to find a standin.

  And she thought she knew just who to call.

  She stumbled down the stairs, twisting her ankle as she hit the bottom step. Jennifer limped to her car and yanked the door open and slid in. Fingers still clumsy with fear, or maybe need, she managed to insert the key and start the car to make her escape.

  Yes, she would do everything she could to help him, but she would stay as far out of his reach as she could until she figured it all out. But even from afar, she could help.

  As soon as she got home she’d call Beverly Wilson, the one combat control wife she’d stayed in touch with after her marriage to Duke had ended. She’d severed all her other ties with the air force and the combat control squadron in particular, but not with Bev.

  Beverly would know what to do. Jennifer certainly didn’t.

  THE KIDDIE VIDEO ended, and Caitlyn sighed and pushed herself up off the floor. “I’m hungry, Uncle Witch. Are we gonna have supper soon?”

  Rich dragged his thoughts away from the woman who’d all but fled through his door and focused them on the little girl. Caitlyn was his main concern right now, he reminded himself sternly, not Jennifer Bishop. However, he was equally perplexed about what to do with either of them.

  “I don’t suppose there’s something for you to eat in one of those bags your Aunt Rebecca packed yesterday, is there?” he said, peering into the diaper bag. It had saved him before.

  Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “That’s silly. Stuff in the diaper bag is for Carter. It’s baby stuff. I’m a big girl. I eat grown-up food,” she said indignantly and managed to make Rich feel stupid.

  “Grown-up food, huh?” Rich looked down at her. She was hardly wasting away, and he remembered how much cake she’d eaten at the wedding reception, but now that she’d mentioned dinner, he couldn’t help noticing that his own stomach was signaling that it was hungry. And not for Jennifer Bishop like the rest of him.

  “Well, short stuff, let’s go look in the kitchen and see what we’ve got.” Rich and Ski had been away on that exercise for the last week and hadn’t had a chance to go to the commissary since they’d been back, so the pickings were undoubtedly slim. He could probably find something for himself, but he wasn’t sure it was anything Caitlyn would like. He and Ski ate a lot of frozen dinners when they were at home.

  Caitlyn made a face upon hearing him call her short stuff, but she didn’t say anything. She just pursed her lips in a gesture that reminded him, surprisingly, of Jennifer. Maybe it was a gesture every woman made. Hell, he didn’t know.

  Rich yanked open the refrigerator door and scanned the contents. Caitlyn stood at his elbow, her hands on her hips, and perused them, too.

  There were a couple of shriveled apples, a limp bunch of celery and a package of baby carrots.
There was some milk, but he didn’t have to smell it to know it was probably sour. According to the date stamped on it, it had expired almost a month ago. There was a plate with something green covered with plastic wrap, but Rich didn’t think it had started out that color.

  “What happened to that lunch meat?” he said to himself more than to Caitlyn as he tossed the green stuff into the garbage can, plate and all.

  “We ate that yesterday,” Caitlyn said, then sighed. She looked hopefully toward the cupboard. “Don’t you gots any pisgetti?”

  Of course! The spaghetti that Jennifer had brought yesterday. Rich thought there had been some left, but what had he done with it? He pushed the dead milk aside and spotted the bowl covered with plastic and looking like a red oasis in a barren desert. He snatched the bowl and showed it to Caitlyn. “We have spaghetti,” he announced with triumph.

  Caitlyn looked skeptical, but apparently hunger won her over. “You gots to heat it up.”

  “That I can do,” Rich muttered through clenched teeth as he opened the microwave and stuck it in. The kid was going to need milk and cereal and…who knew what else? How was he going to shop for the right kind of food if he couldn’t take both of the kids with him in the truck?

  He was getting a crick in his neck. Tension, he supposed. He flexed his shoulders to try to relieve it.

  How do parents do it all?

  How was Sherry going to manage on her own?

  Now he was certain he didn’t have the right stuff to be a father, he couldn’t help thinking. He’d barely been in charge of these kids for twenty-four hours, and he already felt like a failure. He couldn’t even provide food for them.

  Even Jennifer, who had claimed to know nothing about taking care of children, had more common sense about the creatures than he did. Maybe it came naturally to some people like Sherry, Rebecca and even Jennifer.

  But, he sure didn’t have it. Maybe, he was too much like his father.

  No, he protested as he watched the plastic wrap on the spaghetti fill with steam and rise above the heating noodles and sauce. He would never follow in his father’s footsteps. He would keep these children safe. He’d promised Sherry. He’d promised Rebecca.

  The timer dinged, and Rich snatched the dish out of the machine, burning his hand on the superheated steam. He started to mutter a curse, but, remembering Caitlyn standing behind him, censored himself. “Ow, that’s hot.”

  “You’re posta use a poffhoder,” Caitlyn said, her mouth pursed disapprovingly.

  “I knew that,” Rich muttered as he grabbed a dishtowel and carried the dish to the table. “I just forgot.” But he wouldn’t forget his pledge to Sherry.

  He would take care of her children as if they were his own.

  He had no idea how he’d manage, but he would.

  He had promised.

  Chapter Eight

  Rich paced the living room as he waited for the Wilsons to come. He’d tried to sit, but he’d been too antsy for that. He still couldn’t believe the luck that was bringing them to him. He’d expected to get a lecture when he’d called the captain. Instead, he’d gotten an answer to his prayers. Well, it would have been if he’d been a praying man.

  Captain Thibodeaux had listened to his problem without interrupting, had thought for what had seemed like hours, then come up with the answer. Nick Wilson’s wife was looking for some temporary work to tide her over till her baby arrived. Maybe she’d like to baby-sit.

  Rich had called her as soon as he hung up.

  He worked with Nick every day, but he’d only met Nick’s wife once. He didn’t remember much about her, but at work Nick went on and on about how wonderful she was until Rich sometimes wanted to clobber him. Now, he hoped she really was as great as Nick seemed to think.

  Caitlyn was watching another video involving that purple dinosaur, and Carter was playing quietly in his playpen. All was well for now, but he’d be in big trouble as soon as lunchtime arrived. It had been hard enough to come up with something for breakfast. Caitlyn had been satisfied with jelly toast, and Carter had eaten the last of the stuff in the diaper bag.

  As Caitlyn sang along with the dinosaur, Rich wondered how parents could stand it. But, if Sherry could, so could he. Reinforcements would be along any time now.

  Caitlyn broke into another chorus, and Rich desperately tried to figure out how to go about converting his niece to appreciating his type of music. Fortunately, someone rang the doorbell.

  “Saved by the bell,” Rich muttered as he let them in.

  Beverly Wilson wasn’t a pretty woman, but she had that serene look that pregnant women had. Glowing pink or purple like the dinosaur, she was a sight for Rich’s eyes.

  “Hey, man.” Nick stuck out his hand and ushered his wife inside. “Do you know Beverly?”

  Trying very hard not to grab her into his arms and hug her senseless, Rich nodded. “We met at that beach barbecue right after I signed in on base.” He nodded at Beverly and wondered what to say.

  Beverly seemed to know. She lowered herself to the ground next to Caitlyn and introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Beverly. Are you Caitlyn?”

  Rich watched, amazed, as Beverly made instant friends with his niece. Of course, Caitlyn was a great kid and she made friends with everyone. After all, she’d taken to him with a minimum of fuss. Carter had been a different matter. He wondered how Beverly would do with him.

  “I think Caitlyn and I will be just fine,” Beverly said as she straightened slowly and rubbed the small of her back. She turned to Carter. “Just let me get acquainted with this big fellow, and then we’ll come up with a plan.”

  Well, this is going to work out great, Rich thought as he watched Beverly reach into the playpen and pick Carter up. Why hadn’t he thought of it himself?

  JENNIFER ACCEPTED an invitation to join Beverly and Nick for dinner, but only after she’d insisted on contributing to the meal. As a single woman, she didn’t get many invitations from married friends, but she’d always been welcome at their place. She glanced over as a cardboard box containing her homemade potato salad and a store-bought, banana nut bread slid around on the floorboards as she turned onto Bev and Nick’s street in Hurlburt Base housing.

  Nick was out front moving a lawn sprinkler when she drove up. “You didn’t have to bring a care package,” he said, grinning as he opened the door and took the box of food. He peeled back the foil from the potato salad.

  Jennifer smacked his hand before he could scoop up a taste. “Just wait. Beverly said we’d eat soon, and I went to a lot of trouble to make it pretty.”

  “Ex-cu-use me,” Nick said, feigning offense. “I wouldn’t want to ruin the presentation.”

  “Oh, shut up, Nick. Just take me to your leader. I have a surprise for the baby,” she said, drawing a pastel-wrapped parcel from behind her.

  “Hey, I’m the leader,” he protested.

  “I’m sure Beverly lets you think that,” Jennifer said sweetly as she followed Nick inside.

  “I do not,” Beverly said from the darkened living room. “He knows perfectly well that he’s not the boss of me,” she said, pushing up from the couch. “He can order guys around as much as he wants at work, but at home, I’m in charge.”

  “Anything you say, dear,” Nick said. “I’ll just take this into the kitchen.”

  “Don’t eat any till the chicken’s cooked.” Beverly turned toward Jennifer and gestured toward the couch. “Sit. And explain to me exactly why you feel it necessary to stay away from gorgeous Rich Larsen. Are you out of your mind?”

  RICH STOOD in the kitchen and surveyed the contents of the cupboards. Satisfaction surged through him as he looked at the rows of boxes and cans. He had to admit, it felt good to have all that bounty at his fingertips. He liked the idea of being able to open the fridge and look inside and find something good.

  He opened the refrigerator and reached for a crisp, shiny apple. Not one of those withered things that had been there the day before. He closed the door an
d took a bite.

  He’d learned long ago that his life wasn’t the kick it had been cracked up to be. Now that he’d met Jennifer Bishop and his sister’s kids, he couldn’t help thinking it was time for a change.

  If he hadn’t been so hung up on his own dysfunctional family and his unpleasant childhood, he might have thought about it sooner.

  No. He shook his head. He wouldn’t have thought about it sooner because he hadn’t found his family, and he hadn’t yet met Jennifer Bishop. Besides, his parents had thought they were doing the right thing by marrying and having kids, and look what had happened to them.

  He still had a long road to go from realizing his bachelor life wasn’t right for him anymore to actually settling down. He still had to get his head straight. He still had to prove to himself, if no one else, that he was capable of taking on the kind of life he craved.

  After all, wanting was one thing. Having it was something else.

  JENNIFER STARED at Beverly, the baby gift in her lap momentarily less important than the discussion forced upon her. “What do you mean, ‘Am I crazy?’ I’d be crazy to hook up with another Duke,” Jennifer said.

  Beverly snorted and shook her head, the gesture seeming to be an indictment of Jennifer’s statement.

  “You were there, Bev, when my marriage was falling apart. You saw what I went through those last few months when Duke only came home long enough to get clean clothes, if he came home at all. I’d be crazy to do it again.”

  “Jennifer, Jennifer, Jennifer.” Beverly sighed and shook her head. “What makes you think Rich would put you through the same stuff? Just because Duke was a jerk, it doesn’t follow that everyone else is.”

  “I didn’t say everyone else is. Just every special tactics combat control operator. Nick excepted,” she amended quickly.

  “They’re all excitement junkies. They can’t be happy unless they’re doing something dangerous. And if the world situation doesn’t provide them with a fix, they go out and contrive something to keep them from withdrawal till the next ‘situation’…” She etched quotation marks in the air with her hands. Jennifer thought she’d nailed it, and there was no way for Beverly to refute it.