“I was, at one time.”
“Rangers?” she guessed.
“SEALs.” His father, his grandfather, and all of his brothers had been a part of the elite team. It was never questioned, it was simply done.
“Why did you leave?”
He shrugged. “I’m not very good at taking orders, I suppose.”
It would take him hours to explain all of it. How he wanted to make a difference. Thought he was. Then realized he wasn’t always confident he was fighting for the right reasons. He wanted to choose his battles, not be sent in blindly on the whim of another who didn’t have half his knowledge or any of his experience. Maybe someday, if she was still around and still interested, he’d go into more depth, but not here. Not now.
She nodded thoughtfully. He had the distinct impression that she understood what he wasn’t saying.
“What about you? What do you do when you’re not saving the world?”
“I started out wanting to be a teacher, but I guess things have a way of changing over time.”
“You know, I thought you were a nun.”
That put a grin back on her face, and she laughed. It was a light, musical sound that did something strange to his insides, warming them, making them lighter. If he didn’t know better he would have said a few knots just loosened up, too.
“I guess that explains the Mother Theresa comment,” she said. “I worked with the Sisters a lot, and often wore the same clothing to blend in. Even in the third world nuns are given a modicum of leniency and trust not extended to others. Teachers, regular relief workers, not so much.”
It was so much more than the clothing, though, that had made such an impression on him. It was her core of steel serenity, her blatant disregard for personal safety when others were in danger, and selfless acts such as the tender need she had to say a final prayer over the slain priest, knowing how much it would have meant to him. Maybe she hadn’t taken her vows, but she had the same purity of soul whether she realized it or not. It was what made her different from anyone else he had ever known.
“Did you ever consider joining them?” The question popped out before he had a chance to censor it.
“Yes,” she answered, looking a bit surprised. “More than once, actually. They just seemed so... sure.” She shook her head. “I’ve never been that certain about anything to commit myself like that.”
“You seem pretty committed to me.” Why else would a girl from a wealthy family spend twelve years in the cesspools of the world trying to help others? Why else would she be here now, turning a shelter into a home for people she’d never met when she could be lounging up in her wealthy brother’s townhouse handling everything with a few taps of her perfectly manicured nails?
“This?” she asked, waving her hand dismissively. “This isn’t commitment. I can walk away anytime. That’s not the same thing as a vow.”
Kane disagreed with Rebecca’s self-assessment. It was exactly the fact that she stayed even though she didn’t have to that made her so damn remarkable. But once again, he seemed to grasp something she didn’t. She thought she had a choice, but she didn’t. Not really. Helping others was part of who she was, whether she recognized it or not. She needed to feel needed, and God help the sorry bastards who weren’t cognizant enough to ensure that she always felt needed.
“Is that what you’re going to do then? Walk away?” he asked, unsure he wanted to hear the answer.
* * *
Would she? Yes, she realized with a sudden, inexplicable sadness. Pine Ridge was lovely, and so were the people, but she didn’t belong here. She pretended not to notice, but she had seen the sympathetic looks the others gave her, heard their whisper-soft voices grow silent when she approached.
She might as well be a nun for the way people treated her, with an almost quiet reverence that inwardly she found quite laughable, really. Once again she found herself in between worlds, not fitting into either. Too pious for contemporaries, and too sinful for the holy.
If she looked at things from their point of view, she could see where they were coming from. But that didn’t make it the truth. It was only a false perception. And it didn’t make it any easier.
She felt so disconnected now, so out of synch with everyone else. They didn’t understand what it was like to be truly hungry to the point where you could barely stand the cramping pain. Or have to sleep on the ground, learning to hold your head upon your shoulder to lessen the chance that bugs would crawl into your ears or eyes or nose. They didn’t know what it was like to watch people die needlessly from things that could have been cured with a simple shot of penicillin. It was the simple things that so many people took for granted, the things that meant the difference between life and death elsewhere.
But she did. She knew. Sometimes she wished she didn’t, because it made her different. She couldn’t bring herself to care about things that so many others found important. Clothes. Cars. The latest reality show. Whatever.
As long as she remained busy and focused, she could make it through each day. Maybe that was why she always sought out the areas that needed help – because then she was so busy she didn’t have time to think about her own messed up life. But once everyone was back where they belonged, then what would she do? How would she fill her days? Could she picture herself here long-term, being the one they included only as a favor to her brother out of pity or a sense of responsibility?
The answer was no, she couldn’t. There was only one person she felt truly comfortable around, one person who knew some of her deepest, darkest secrets, like the fact that she had killed people that night. And despite his kindness, he was beyond her reach. It had become clear on several occasions that there was a definite line drawn between them. The few times she’d crossed that line his reactions had been more than telling. That was okay. If this was all they had for a little while, so be it. If nothing else, she’d learned to appreciate each day and the good things that came along, because Lord knew, it could all be gone tomorrow.
“Probably,” she said finally with a distinct twinge of sadness. “When everyone goes home and the shelter is no longer needed, neither will I be.”
Chapter Six
Even though he had been expecting it, he hated the way that confirmation made him feel. The idea of not seeing her again was unpleasant, even if he couldn’t allow himself to hope for anything more than they shared right now. Damn it, she was the only person he actually wanted to be around.
“People always need help. They need someone to care.”
She smiled at him then, an enigmatic little smile. The sadness it held cut through him like a finely honed blade. “Some people do. Then there are those that don’t seem to need anyone at all. They’re the lucky ones.”
Was she speaking in general terms, he wondered, or did she have someone specific in mind? Him, perhaps? It would be true enough. He had always been happier alone. At least until Rebecca came along.
Or was she talking about herself, always surrounded by others, but still alone? They were so much alike in that respect, really. Except when they were together, like this. Then he didn’t feel so alone. He hoped she didn’t, either.
The sun settled lower in the autumn sky, and the shadows grew longer by the minute. Rebecca drew her arms in close and tried to hide a shiver in the fading light.
“You’re cold,” Kane said immediately. There wasn’t much he didn’t notice, especially when it came to Rebecca. For whatever reason he seemed naturally attuned to her; it was something he would not let himself think upon too closely. “Would you like to head in?”
“Not just yet.”
Kane refused to read too much into that. There could be a dozen reasons why she preferred to stay out in the quickly chilling twilight, and none of them were based on some unspoken desire to spend more time with him. Still, there was a little part of him that hoped. A part that he thought he’d lost a long time ago.
Rebecca’s eyes widened as Kane began to remove his dark flan
nel shirt, exposing the long sleeve T beneath it.
“Here,” he said, holding the flannel out to her.
* * *
Rebecca’s breath caught in the display of rippling muscle as a result of the action, not to mention the way the soft cotton clung to his very fit frame. It took a moment for her brain to catch up and process what her ears had heard. Wearing his shirt seemed ... strangely intimate. The very idea shot a thrilling tingle through her.
“Go on,” he coaxed, his voice softer as if speaking to a frightened animal. “Put it on.”
Rebecca took the shirt in her hands. It was so soft and warm with his body heat. She had the sudden, almost irresistible urge to lift it up and bury her face in it. Thankfully, she managed to control her baser impulses. “Won’t you get cold?”
Kane shot her a look that could only be described as vintage Kane. Without words, his eyes, his expression, everything manage to convey amusement (“you’ve got to be kidding!”), disbelief (“do you really think I’m that big of a pussy?”), and unquestionable authority (“just do it!”) all at the same time.
“Right,” she mumbled, slipping into it. “Mmmmm,” she moaned softly. It was soft. It was warm. And it did smell like Kane. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine that it was Kane wrapped around her instead of simply his shirt.
When she opened her eyes again she saw him watching her intently. A fresh dark blush rose up into her cheeks; she hoped she hadn’t actually voiced any of her thoughts out loud. “Thanks,” she managed, feeling rather embarrassed.
“My pleasure.” His eyes were twinkling; a sky filled with stars suspended in crystalline sapphire blue.
“I seem to be having a hard time adjusting to the cooler climate,” she tried to explain, though it sounded lame even to her own ears. Yeah, that made sense. Rationalize it, Rebecca.
“I understand.” He kept his face neutral, though she had the distinct impression he was trying not to smile.
“Because, you know, I was in tropical climates for quite a while.”
“Uh-huh.” The corner of his mouth quirked – she definitely saw it that time. Her blush deepened and she pulled the shirt closer, wishing it would just swallow her whole.
* * *
Tempting as it was to tease her when she looked so adorably flustered, he decided to take pity on her. Or perhaps, himself. Because seeing her snuggling into his shirt was causing the oddest sensations to hum through his chest. “Do you have plans tonight?”
Just that quickly, a shadow crossed over her features and she bowed her head, unconsciously seeking the comfort of his scent within the collar of his shirt. Another rumble worked through him, this one of stronger magnitude.
Kane took advantage of her hesitation to take a quick sanity check. What the hell had just happened? For a few moments there he could have sworn he actually felt her inside of him, stroking all the raw, gaping holes, easing them, soothing them. Her bottomless brown eyes promised comfort; the shimmering golden flecks promised ferocity.
A small frown creased her brow. “I’m meeting Aidan for a late dinner.”
Ah. That explained the unease. For a moment there he thought it might be sexual tension, but then he realized that was just wishful thinking on his part. Someone like Rebecca would never be interested in a man like him. She cared so much about people and he... didn’t. So what if she kept snuggling into his shirt and inhaling the scent of it when she thought he wasn’t looking? It meant nothing.
“You don’t want to go?” he asked.
She shrugged, finding her hands suddenly fascinating. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother. But... sometimes I get the feeling I’m not quite what he wants me to be.” She shook her head, but not before he caught her slight embarrassment. “No, forget I said that.”
Kane nodded, but he wouldn’t forget. He filed it away, along with a hundred other bits and pieces of the intriguing puzzle that was Rebecca. He’d formed the same opinion about the way Aidan was treating her, and it irked him.
“You could say no.”
“I could,” she agreed. But she wouldn’t, he knew that. Kane had overheard enough family whispers and conversations to know that Aidan was worried about her. Aidan didn’t understand her passive detachment, nor her constant and almost obsessive need to be doing something all the time.
As a matter a fact, Kane realized the only time Rebecca seemed to sit still was when she was with him.
Kane also knew Aidan had spoken to Michael about it. Thankfully, given what Michael knew about her, he understood enough of her situation to assure Aidan it was perfectly natural and nothing to worry about. After spending so much time with her, Michael was convinced that Rebecca was mentally sound, even if she wasn’t quite the same as Aidan remembered her. Michael’s advice – quite good advice in Kane’s opinion – was that Rebecca was fine and that Aidan should accept her as she was.
As far as Kane was concerned, she was perfect. Beautiful. Innocent. Courageous. Selfless. Though perhaps she could be a little more willing to listen to reason when the occasion demanded it. If she had one fault, it was that she cared too much for others and not enough for herself.
“Why not tell him you have other plans?”
She laughed lightly, holding out her hand as if to shake his. “I’m sorry, obviously we haven’t met. My name is Rebecca.”
Kane couldn’t help but chuckle, too, as he took her hand in his. It felt warm and soft and far too delicate in his large, calloused one, but her grip was surprisingly strong. “A good Biblical name, that,” he murmured, repeating the words she had spoken to him that first fateful night.
Her grin grew wider, pleased that he had remembered. “That it is.”
“Seriously, why not tell him you have a date or something?”
“Well, first of all, it would be a blatant lie, and I haven’t quite been reduced to outright deception just yet. And secondly, even if I had, he would never believe me.”
“Why wouldn’t he believe you?”
Rebecca dropped her gaze, a flush rising up in her cheeks. Kane was stunned by her response. Didn’t she know how attractive she was?
“I’m sure there are a lot of men who would love to spend an evening with you, Rebecca.” He nearly choked on the words, because he didn’t even want to consider the possibility of her spending an evening with another man. He didn’t know why it should bother him so much, except that he’d come to care for her over the last few weeks and didn’t want to see her hurt.
Plus there was the fact that not a single unattached male within a hundred mile radius was good enough for her.
She snorted softly, a distinctly feminine sound. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
One of Kane’s eyebrows raised; one corner of his mouth quirked. “My tastes don’t run that way.”
She laughed, shooting music straight into his heart. “Not exactly what I meant, but good to know.”
“I’m not sure if I should be insulted,” he said, his expression somewhat mocking.
“You shouldn’t. I don’t think you ever have to worry about anyone questioning your masculinity.” A sudden flare of heat blazed in her eyes, but it was gone so quickly he was sure he had imagined it.
It took him a moment to realize that he, like everyone else, had been distracted away from the real issue. She had done so with such deft sincerity that he could not help but feel impressed; normally he was not detoured so easily. But then, none of the normal rules applied with Rebecca. Around her, he was not the same person he was around everyone else.
Still, he would not be denied the chance to delve a little deeper into the enigmatic Rebecca Harrison. “Why do you do that?”
“Why do I do what?”
“Divert attention away from yourself when someone asks you a personal question.”
“I wasn’t aware that I did.”
“You do.”
Kane waited, letting the seconds tick by, giving her every opportunity to volunteer
more. She didn’t.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
His eyes flashed a warning, letting her know that he knew exactly what she was doing. “Why are you here, alone, when you could be out having fun?”
She sighed then. “I’m not alone. I’m with you. And believe it or not, Kane, right now I am exactly where I want to be.”
Tiny fireworks went off deep in his chest. He rubbed absently near the center, only vaguely aware of them since a similar display was taking place in his head. “Fair enough,” he managed.
* * *
Perhaps it was her imagination, but his voice sounded huskier than it had before. A small frown creased her brow. Surely he wasn’t experiencing the same flare of heat, the same thundering heart beat that she was?
No, of course he wasn’t. He was just making small talk. Idle conversation. Jeez, she really needed to get a grip here. What was it about this man that wreaked havoc upon each and every one of her senses?
She peeked up to find him watching her intently again. Kane saw too much, and he was as persistent as he was gorgeous. If she didn’t want to scare him off, she would have to do a better job of censoring herself. Honesty was a wonderful thing, but so was prudence.
Rebecca was not about to jeopardize her time with him by baring her soul. Despite having to be careful, she felt like she was able to be herself around him more so than anyone else. They might not know a lot about each other, but they had still connected on some level.
She had no interest in any one, present company excluded, of course. But she couldn’t tell him that. Such a confession was likely to have him leaving skid marks in his haste to run for the hills. That alone was enough to make her bury this compelling attraction to him and curb her tongue.
She chanced another glance. So solid. So confident. A core of strength. He didn’t worry about what other people thought. And he probably never second guessed anything.
* * *
She peeked up at him again; there was something unreadable in those expressive eyes of hers. What exactly was she thinking?
Guardian Angel: Callaghan Brothers, Book 5 Page 7
