With Valor and Devotion

by Charlotte Maclay

  Mike stepped under the showerhead next to Logan and turned on the spray.

  “You don’t look so happy,” Logan said. “Something wrong?”

  “Not a thing, except this afternoon I announced I wanted to adopt a six-year-old kid and I don’t know squat about being a father.”

  An instant before he’d said those words, every shower in the place had been switched off except his own. The silence was deafening. Mike wanted to turn the water volume up higher.

  “You’re kidding.” Across the room, Jay grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his waist.

  Mike wished he were, but he wasn’t going to back down now. Randy needed him—or somebody. And Mike couldn’t bring himself to think of some other man as the boy’s father.

  “How you gonna take care of a kid when you work shifts like we do?” Diaz wanted to know.

  “I haven’t figured out the details, okay? I’ll think of something.” Using his bar of soap, he built up some lather and scrubbed himself. He shouldn’t have opened his damn mouth. But these guys were his brothers, his only family. If he couldn’t tell them his problems, who could he tell?

  Retrieving his towel, Logan rubbed his hair dry. “What you need is a wife, buddy. Women know instinctively about raising kids. We guys—” He shrugged. “I figure it’s one of those X-Y chromosome things. Sometimes we just don’t get it.”

  Despite himself, the image of Kristin popped into Mike’s head. He’d never thought of himself as potential husband material any more than he’d imagined himself a father. To reconsider that position now wouldn’t be doing Kristin a favor. She’d been through enough, losing her baby, getting dumped by some jerk who couldn’t handle responsibility. She deserved someone special, someone who had staying power. Given his background, Mike didn’t think he qualified.

  Still, he’d become Randy’s dad on a temporary basis, and now he wanted to make it forever, even if he wasn’t the most skilled father in town. He’d do the best he could.

  Maybe temporary would work with Kristin, too.

  Back in his room, he switched on his computer. He could bring up his e-mail from here. There weren’t many messages, just a couple of negative replies from fire stations across the country, communities which didn’t have any engines they were willing to ship to Kosovo. It looked like his bright idea to help out those who had befriended him and his army squad was a bust.

  Ideas were like that. Not all of them worked.

  Marriage to Kristin might not work either, even on a temporary basis. For her sake, he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk that.

  KRISTIN had dropped Randy off at the fire station at eight o’clock and fled the moment she saw Mike. Cowardly. There was no other word for her behavior.

  He was going to adopt Randy. She’d be left out in the cold, no more than a baby-sitter at best—a convenient bed partner at worst. She couldn’t handle either scenario. Dammit, she loved them both!

  Arriving at her office early, Kristin discovered the pile of case files on her desk had grown by a magnitude of ten. Evidently no one had realized she’d been on suspension. At least, it hadn’t slowed the assignment clerk down. That woman would probably keep piling files on Kristin’s desk long after she’d expired under their weight.

  Sitting down at her desk, she began the task of sorting through the files and establishing priorities. The children at risk would come first. Those who seemed to be getting along in their current setting would have to wait for her attention.

  More than an hour later, Mary Jane Pendrick marched into her cubicle. “That Marshall boy made a big hit. A couple of families indicated interest yesterday, and I’ve already gotten four calls this morning from the TV coverage of Adoption Day.” She handed Kristin Randy’s thick file. “You’ll have to do home studies on all the families.”

  Kristin took the folder as if it were a hot potato. “Wait a minute. Mr. Oden removed me from the case.”

  “Well, I certainly don’t have time to follow up on all the inquiries. I’ll tell Edward I’ve passed Randy back to you. He’s not about to argue with me. I know too much about the dirty linen in this department.”

  “But I’m…involved with a man who wants to adopt Randy.”

  “Then I suggest you get yourself uninvolved, sweetheart. Mr. Oden won’t tolerate that. The case is yours.” With that adamant comment, Mary Jane whirled, striding away toward her own office.

  Clutching Randy’s file, Kristin stared after her. If Mike insisted on applying to adopt Randy, she’d be judging him against the other families who were interested. Intact families with both a mother and father, possibly siblings, but strangers to Randy.

  How in heaven’s name was she supposed to remain objective when she loved both Mike and Randy, yet knew Mike’s living arrangement and the hours he worked didn’t lend themselves to being a successful single parent?

  She swung around in her chair and slapped Randy’s file on the one cleared space on her desk. Maybe she ought to go back to college and become a children’s librarian. Surely the choices she’d have to make wouldn’t be so difficult.

  The phone rang and she snatched it up. “McCoy.”

  “Ms. McCoy, they tell me you’re Randy Marshall’s caseworker.”

  Great! Another family wanting to take the boy away from Mike. “That’s correct.”

  “My name is Sheryl Domain, Randy’s aunt. His momma was my sister, Elizabeth Marshall. When can we come pick him up?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Randy spotted Kristin sitting in her office and took off ahead of Mike, who followed at a more leisurely pace. He was concerned about the summons Kristin had issued via the phone that morning. It hadn’t been an invitation to visit her at the office. More like a drill sergeant ordering him to show up, or else. She wanted him to pick up adoption forms, but she hadn’t seemed thrilled about the idea.

  Even though she gave Randy a quick hug, she didn’t look any happier now than she had sounded on the phone. Her desk piled with files might be part of the reason. She worked too hard, damn it. Somebody ought to be taking care of her.

  “There’s a playroom down the hall,” she said, looking up at Mike. “Randy can wait there while we talk.”

  “How come I can’t stay with you?”

  “Because we’re going to be talking about grownup things.”

  “Are they secrets? ’Cuz I can keep a secret.”

  “Yeah, right, like blabbing about sleeping arrangements to Kristin’s family,” Mike mumbled under his breath as he cupped the back of the boy’s head. “Come on, son. Let’s go find that playroom. They’ve probably got some neat stuff there.”

  Kristin stood, as formal as a commanding officer, and picked up some papers from her desk. “You and I will meet in the interview room across the hall.”

  Mike almost saluted. What the hell was going on?

  They settled Randy, still disgruntled, in a room with toys, a too-small tricycle and a chalkboard. Glass partitions allowed a nearby clerk to keep an eye on him.

  Kristin led Mike into a four-by-eight room with a small, battered table and a couple of chairs, not unlike those he’d been taken to as a kid when he’d been hauled into the police station for fighting at school. Again there was a glass window. Anyone passing by in the hallway could look inside. Not exactly private.

  But despite her rigid bearing, Kristin looked terrific in her burgundy suit. She’d pulled back her hair a bit too severely, not Mike’s favorite style, but it bared her neck right where he had an urge to kiss her.

  Hell, he wanted to kiss her most everywhere. But with the chance of passersby gawking, that didn’t seem like a good plan. And, given Kristin’s current attitude, he doubted she’d welcome his amorous attentions. Later tonight he hoped to have another chance.

  “You didn’t hang around long when you dropped Randy off this morning,” he commented.

  She gestured for him to take a chair at the table. “I had to get to work.”

  “Bet they were glad to see y
ou. Looks like they left you plenty of work to do.” Studying her, he slouched down in the chair she’d indicated, stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. He hadn’t bothered with socks, and his jeans looked a little frayed. Maybe he should have worn a coat and tie. But hell, she knew who he was. It didn’t make sense to put on airs.

  She didn’t meet his gaze. “I understand, Mr. Gables—”

  “Mister…?” He straightened.

  “—that you are interested in adopting Randy Marshall.”

  “What’s going on here, princess?”

  She slid some papers across the table toward him. “It will be necessary for you to complete these forms in some detail. Before you go to that trouble, however, I need to bring you up to date on some new developments.”

  “It’s not going to be any trouble.” He swung the papers around so he could read them. There had to be six or seven pages, as many as the civil service application for the fire department. He wondered if he’d get extra points for being a veteran. “I thought you weren’t Randy’s social worker anymore?”

  “That situation has changed. I’ll be the one who evaluates the families who are interested in adopting him.”

  “Families? Plural?”

  “Yes, several families have expressed interest since yesterday’s Adoption Day event.”

  He’d known it was a bad idea to parade the kid around at the park like he was piece of meat to be bought and sold. The TV reporter hadn’t helped. “Does that mean you’re going to be judging me against these other people?”

  She tapped the eraser end of her pencil on the battle-scarred table. “That is correct.”

  Snatching the pencil away from her, he slammed it on the table. She flinched but didn’t look up.

  “Look at me, Kristin. What’s going on? Are you trying to tell me I won’t measure up?”

  She finally met his gaze, her eyes as distant as the deepest part of the sea. “As a prospective single father, you are at a disadvantage. You work unusual hours, and you lack a support system of family and friends who’d be able to care for Randy when—”

  “You’re taking care of him while I’m at work. Everything’s under control.”

  “I’ll no longer be able to do that, Mr. Gables. My job precludes—”

  Your job!” He came to his feet. “I thought you cared about Randy.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “If it’s not, what the hell is?”

  “Please keep your voice down, Mr. Gables. If I am to do my job adequately, I must not become emotionally involved in my cases.”

  “Bull! Sounds to me like you’ve reverted to form. You’re a damn bureaucrat, that’s what you are. With ice in your veins.”

  The color drained from her face, and he could see lines of tension around her lips—lips that he wanted to kiss. But not right this minute.

  “You should also be aware one of the families I will be considering is Randy’s maternal aunt. She called this morning.”

  That drove the air from his lungs, and he sat down heavily on the straight-back chair. “I never thought she’d show up. Is she here in Paseo?” If so, where the hell had she been these past few weeks? It wasn’t like Randy was a secret. His picture had been on the front page of the local newspaper—twice. Both times there’d been a mention of his trust fund.

  “She and her husband are currently residing in Santa Barbara. I’ll be meeting with them tomorrow.”

  “What happened? Did they finally hear people were donating money for his college fund?”

  Kristin cocked her head as though giving that question some thought. “She did mention the fund, but I have no reason to believe that’s her sole motivation for wanting to raise Randy. She’d only heard about his situation from the TV coverage last night.”

  “Want to bet?”

  “I don’t wager on the lives of the children in my charge,” she said primly.

  “Instead you’re going to take him away from me and just hand him over to this—this woman?”

  “I won’t know until after I interview her and her husband. Naturally, we’ll do a background check on them. But relatives generally receive preference in matters of this sort if they’re suitable and willing to take responsibility for the child.”

  Putting his elbows on the table, he dropped his head into his hands. The panic twisting through his gut was like a fire hose under full pressure that had gotten loose, viciously snaking around, battering everything it touched. A family. Randy needed that, and it was something Mike couldn’t give him.

  “Are you going to talk to Randy about this?” he asked.

  “Naturally. I assume at this point he’d pick you to raise him, given the choice. You and he have bonded very closely. But I may not be able to leave the decision up to him if I feel his aunt and uncle would provide a more suitable home.”

  “Than me?”

  “More suitable than any of the available alternatives.”

  She’d already made it pretty damn clear he’d be her last choice. Who could blame her? Lifting his head, he let his arms fall to the table. In desperation, he said, “What if I quit my job? Some of the big companies in town have their own fire departments. The plastic plant. They had a fire there a couple of months ago. I could work days. That’d be okay, wouldn’t it?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, her hand covered his. Her nails were cut short, practical, and bore only the shine of clear polish. Her skin was warm. Soft. He ached to feel her touching more than his hand.

  “Don’t do anything rash just yet. If the aunt works out, the issue of you adopting Randy would be a moot point. I’d have to recommend he be placed with her.”

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. Maybe when he’d been ten or eleven and some bigger kid had beaten the tar out of him. But he recalled the burning sensation behind his eyes, how hard it was to stop the tears from spilling over and giving away the fact that he was weak. Afraid.

  This time it was the woman he cared about more than any other woman he’d ever known who had brought him to tears. Betrayed him.

  He stood and turned away, swiping at his face with the back of his hand. “You do what you have to do, princess.” He spoke in a ragged whisper. “But forget about your job. You’ll answer to me if anybody hurts Randy. Anybody at all.”

  Kristin sat very still. Every instinct she had cried out for her to take Mike in her arms. Comfort him as he could comfort her. But she had a job to do. Randy was her responsibility. It didn’t matter that she’d break Mike’s heart by taking the boy away. Or even Randy’s. She had to do what was best for the boy.

  Her heart, and what this was doing to her, didn’t count at all.

  Dear heaven, when she’d taken this job she hadn’t realized she’d be expected to play God. Or what a difficult role that would be. No wonder Oden was dead set against his people becoming emotionally involved.

  “I have to speak with Randy.” Her throat ached, her voice barely audible, and her head pounded with the stress of making a decision that would alter a child’s life.

  “Great. You know where to find him.”

  In addition to talking to Randy about his Aunt Sheryl, Kristin would have to tell him goodbye. Except for professional contacts, he wouldn’t be hers to hold and cuddle—when his independent nature allowed for a show of affection. She wasn’t sure she could do that here in the office of Children’s Services. Despite her best intentions, she’d become far too emotionally involved. She wanted her goodbye to be somewhere else. Somewhere well away from the prying eyes of her boss. Somewhere important to her.

  She glanced at Mike. “Do you suppose Randy has ever had a chance to feed ducks?”

  THEY STOPPED at a convenience store to buy some bread. Kristin bought a small bouquet with a single pink rose and some baby’s breath wrapped in cellophane.

  “What are the flowers for?” Mike asked.

  She glanced in the back seat of the car. With the top down, Randy was having a ball, his
straight hair blowing in all directions, his grin so wide, a farmer could have driven a tractor through it.

  “You’ll see,” she responded noncommittally.

  Familiar grief filled Kristin’s chest as she wheeled into the cemetery, doubly painful this time because she knew she’d soon be losing Randy too. And with him, Mike.

  “Is this where Bobby is buried?” he asked softly.

  She nodded but didn’t look in Mike’s direction.

  The road wound past a small chapel, the grassy hillsides neatly mowed and dotted with flat, gray markers. The air seemed fresher here than in town, the silence a slumbering peacefulness. Dusty-green oak leaves on scattered trees barely moved in a faint breeze, and the sky was a silver blue.

  She pulled to the side of the road near an artificial lake. A white gazebo and occasional ornamental trees provided shade for the benches that had been strategically placed around the water’s edge to allow for moments of private grief.

  “You bring the bread, Randy.” With the small bouquet in hand, she got out of the car. “Let’s see if any hungry ducks are around.”

  Randy hopped out. So full of energy. So full of life. So easy to love.

  She took his free hand. “Have you ever fed ducks before?”

  “Uh-uh. I feed Suzie every morning like Mike tells me to.”

  “This is a little different.” Smiling, she knelt beside the water. Already a dozen ducks were paddling toward them across the small lake. From the opposite side of the pond, a couple of geese flapped their wings and joined in the race. “Break off a few bites of bread and toss them on the ground in front of us. The ducks will come right up out of the water to eat them.”

  Amid great quacking, honking and wing-flapping, the hungry mob arrived at the shore, acting as though they hadn’t been fed in a week. Randy stood his ground against the aggressive geese, tossing the bread crumbs away from them when he thought they’d had enough, making sure the smallest ducks got their fair share. Soon a flock of pigeons arrived to join in the banquet.