That Touch of Pink (10 page)

He'd figured that out when he realized he was inventing excuses to stop by and see them. Them—daughter and mother. It wasn't just Kimmie. Abby had a way of creeping into his thoughts at the damnedest times. Talking to clients. Mapping out security plans. Shaving. Showering. Sleeping. All thoughts led back to Abby.

“I don't understand,” he said. “She's upset because I'll be there?”

“Kimmie knows when the campout is over, so is her physical fitness training. It will be time to say goodbye to you.”

“That's not necessarily true,” he pointed out. “We're friends.”

“Oh?” She walked into the kitchen, then turned to face him when he followed. “You kissed me and I kissed you back. What do you call that?”

“Friendly.”

“You know what I mean,” she said.

“I do. And if you're worried because of what Nora said about single mothers and picket fences, don't be. She didn't mean it.”

“I'm not worried. And yes, she did.”

“Look, as far as I'm concerned what happened is in the past. You don't have to prove anything to me.”

“It's not you I'm worried about. It's my daughter. She's just a little girl.”

“I'd never hurt her,” he said.

“Not intentionally,” she agreed. “But you can't make promises, either. And I don't want you to. I don't trust promises, from you or anyone else.”

Riley studied her, the troubled expression on her face.

Earlier, when he'd told her about his past, she'd touched him. That simple gesture of comfort had lifted the heaviness around his heart. He'd needed the connection and been grateful for it. Somehow, the pain of the past had brought them closer, but only for a moment. Then Abby had said they needed to get the trip over with. So who was really getting attached to him?

“And you're not concerned about yourself?” he asked.

“I can take care of myself. I'm a big girl.”

And didn't he know it. Her kiss had packed enough firepower to give new meaning to a shock and awe campaign. “Don't tell me this isn't about what Nora said—”

“Your sister is concerned about you. And you should be grateful for that.”

“I am, but—”

“She made a lot of sense. Basically her message was fish or cut bait. Since I'm not interested in fishing…” She shrugged.

“Nora doesn't know what she's talking about,” he said, anger swelling through him. He needed to have a chat with his little sister.

“Yes, she does. The thing is, my feelings are sincere. I'm sincerely not interested in a personal relationship. Once was more than enough disappointment for a lifetime. For me and for Kimmie.”

What the hell was he doing? This was what he'd wanted from the beginning. Complete the mission and slip away.

“So you think Kim is really ready?” he asked, pulling himself back from the brink. “For the trip, I mean?”

“Yes. And in spite of her tantrum, I think delaying any longer will only make it worse when we say goodbye to you.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I'm making an executive decision. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead. We're doing the trip this weekend.”

“Your mind is made up?”

“Absolutely,” she said with complete conviction.

He leaned his elbows on the island between them, grateful that it was there. It reminded him
not
to take her in his arms the way he wanted to. “Do you ever worry about being wrong, Abby? I mean, when you make up your mind about something regarding your daughter?”

“Every day. But I wasn't given a choice about raising Kimmie alone. Any more than you were given a choice about not being included in raising Sean.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn't say that to hurt you. Just to make you understand that I have to put one foot in front of the other. I have to trust my instincts and hope for the best. The alternative is to be immobilized where she's concerned, and that's not an option.”

“So there are times when you'd rather not be alone to parent her?”

“Every day,” she said again.

“Would you rather her father came back?”

“For my sake, no. But for Kimmie…” She sighed. “Ideally, kids have two parents. The result is an evenhanded upbringing. But it only works if the parents love each other, too.”

Riley thought about his own situation: the chip on his shoulder because his own mother had walked out on him, his adoption and the doubts about acceptance in the family. But there'd never been any question that the Dixons loved each other. After briefly having a son, he'd understood how much they loved him, too. He always knew he'd been lucky to have a home, but now he realized the importance of love in giving that home stability.

He thought about Abby, questioning whether or not his friendship with Barb had evolved into love. He wasn't sure. Which made him wonder if they would have lasted even if Sean's father hadn't come back. He'd cared about that boy, and he cared about Kimmie. He'd told the truth when he said he'd never hurt her. Letting her get even more attached would do just that.

Abby was right. It was time to do this and walk away. Before they got in too deep. Or at least any deeper, he thought, remembering the tears in the little girl's eyes.
She'd been hurt, and so had Abby. He didn't want to hurt them any more and he couldn't make the past go away. He was damaged goods and no good to them.

“Okay,” he finally said. “I see your point and we'll go with the executive decision. I'll pick you and Kimmie up Saturday morning.”

“Same as last time? Oh-dark-thirty?” she asked with the ghost of her familiar grin.

“Yeah.” He did his best to grin back. “But it's your job to convince Kimmie to go along with the program.”

“Just leave it to me.”

Leave—so many meanings to a soldier. It was the chance to go home and see loved ones; it was tearing himself away again. He didn't like taking his leave of Abby and Kimmie. But he was grateful for the reminder that caring too much could cost him everything. Again.

This time when he walked out of her house, he didn't look back to see if she was watching him leave. He already knew what a temptation that was. He'd given in to it once and wasn't sure he could resist if faced with the temptation again.

As he drove away, he waited for relief to wash over him. Their association was almost over. But all he felt was a deep and profound emptiness in his gut.

So much for not being in too deep.

“S
o,” Abby said, straightening the place mat handmade by her daughter. She'd drawn three stick people and one didn't need to be a shrink or an art buff to know it was Kimmie, Abby and Riley. She covered it with her paper plate and muffin. “Are you excited about the camping trip tomorrow?”

“I guess.” Kimmie picked at her own muffin, then took a sip from the boxed apple juice provided by the first grade room mother.

Muffins With Mom was a function designed to involve parents in school, to show the children how much the adults valued learning. Kimmie had brought home the announcement along with an RSVP; a head count was necessary to provide enough food. Along with the place mats, the children made name cards for their mothers. The tables and chairs, scaled down to accommodate six-year-olds, were arranged in a square in front
of the teacher's desk. Personally, Abby liked the smaller size, but she was vertically challenged. How would someone like, say Riley, pour himself into it?

She would never know, but the mental image was priceless. Not so priceless was the fact that just casually thinking about him made her heart beat faster. The clear solution was not to think about him. Yeah, right.

“So, Kimmie, I like your classroom.”

“But you've seen it before.”

“I know. When you first started school.” She glanced around at all the walls covered with artwork. “But Mrs. Nolet didn't have so much on the walls then. It looks really good.”

With the juice straw in her mouth, Kimmie looked around. “I drew some leaves 'cause it's gonna be fall soon. It's over there,” she said pointing to a bulletin board jam-packed with papers.

“Will you show me when we're finished eating?”

“Uh-huh.” When she nodded enthusiastically, her bangs fell into her eyes.

Abby brushed the crumbs off her hands, then took her daughter's barrette and secured the hair. “There. That's better.”

“Thanks, Mommy.” She leaned against Abby. “I'm glad you're here.”

“Me, too, sweetie.”

“I'd be sad if you couldn't come.” Her gaze rested on a boy sitting across the table from them. There was a place mat and card in front of the empty chair beside him. “Griffie is all alone.”

“Maybe his mom couldn't come at the last minute.”

“Yeah.” Kim turned puppy dog eyes on her. “We should ask him to sit with us, Mommy.”

Abby's throat tightened at the same time as she felt a sudden burning behind her eyes. How had she gotten so lucky? This tenderhearted child was a complete gift. In spite of her vow not to think about him, Riley popped into Abby's mind. Thoughts of the little boy who'd been abandoned by his mother tugged at her heart. He'd been adopted, but never quite felt he belonged. Then he'd found his own family, only to lose the child he'd come to love.

All of that explained why he hadn't put up more than token resistance when she'd said she wasn't interested in a personal relationship. But he was a warrior. She'd expected him to fight for what he wanted. Obviously he didn't want her, but she couldn't really blame him. When life kicked you in the teeth, you weren't likely to smile and give it another opportunity.

What a pair the two of them were, she thought. She'd also told him that her one and only relationship had been enough disappointment for a lifetime. In spite of her best efforts, she was in for more. She knew this because of her profound sadness at the thought of not seeing Riley after this weekend.

“Let's make room for Griffie,” she whispered to Kim.

They scooted their chairs closer together, then she went with her daughter to move the little boy closer to them. When she had him settled, Mrs. Nolet walked over. The petite blonde looked frazzled. She pushed her wire-rimmed glasses up more firmly on her nose. “Thank you so much for taking Griffin to sit with you.”

“It was Kimmie's idea,” Abby admitted.

“His mother couldn't make it. So many moms work,
I knew not all of them could be here. That's one reason I needed the RSVP. To be forewarned so I could put kids without moms with the ones who were coming. But Griffin's mother didn't know until the last minute. I've been trying to find a moment to sit down with him, but it's been hectic.”

Abby nodded. “I can only imagine. In the classroom setting, any change in the schedule can create chaos.”

“That's for sure.”

Abby glanced down at Kimmie, chattering away to the little boy who had finally smiled. “Don't worry about Griffie. He'll be fine with us. Just do your thing.”

“Thanks.”

As the teacher started to turn away, Abby stopped her. There'd been something bothering her ever since she'd received the Muffins With Mom notice. “Mrs. Nolet?”

“Yes?”

“Are you going to do a get-together with the dads?”

“In a few weeks,” she confirmed. “Doughnuts With Dad.”

“Very cute,” Abby said, even as her heart squeezed painfully.

“I like it, too. Parent involvement is a key component in the educational process. But I don't have to tell you that. You're a teacher.” She glanced around. “Please, excuse me. Now that everything seems to be under control, I've got to say a few words to thank the moms for coming.”

“Of course,” Abby said. “Don't let me hold you up. Griffie's in good hands.”

“Thanks again.”

She looked at Kimmie and wondered if anyone would make sure she didn't sit alone for Doughnuts
With Dad. Obviously, the teacher had tried to prepare for everything, but stuff happened. Abby knew the feeling. She'd bought Riley to do outdoor activities that she couldn't handle. An overnight campout. Nothing personal. Now Abby couldn't get the guy out of her head no matter how hard she tried. Five minutes ago, she'd promised herself she wasn't going to think about him, yet here she was thinking about him.

Well, she'd learned to be self-sufficient. She could do anything if she set her mind to it. Probably that would be easier when she wasn't in a heightened state of anticipation at the prospect of spending the weekend with him in a tent. Her. Wimpy umbrella-drink girl was actually looking forward to the campout, but she knew it was all about being with him, not the location.

Once the camping trip was done, so was she. Done with all things Riley Dixon. When she restored optimum mental function, the message might get from her brain to her heart.

 

It wasn't Doughnuts With Dad, but fishing with a friend was good, too.

Abby watched Riley and Kimmie by the stream and couldn't help thinking it was a Kodak moment. This trip was completely different from the last one. The hike in from where they'd left the SUV went off without a hitch. Carrying packs hadn't been a problem. No stamina or blister issues either. Camp was pitched—or whatever it was called when tents were erected with sleeping bags unrolled inside. Wood had been gathered for a fire and the place was as homey as one could make it in the wilderness.

The time Riley had spent preparing them made all the difference. If only there was some sort of decompression, debriefing or training that would make it easier to say goodbye. Fish or cut bait… They were fishing now and soon it would be time for the cut bait part. Sadness tightened in her chest.

No. She wasn't going there. She was going to enjoy this spectacular day in early November. But this was Texas where the saying went, if you don't like the weather—wait a minute. Right this minute, Abby sat in the foldaway nylon chair Riley had pulled from his pack and looked at the clear blue sky, sighing with pleasure. Who knew there was anything to like about backpacking?

Then she looked at Riley. Correction: two good things about being outdoors.

He was on one knee by the stream showing Kimmie how to bait the hook on her fishing line. When the child had shrieked in horror at all things slimy, he'd patiently worked with her until she'd accomplished the task instead of doing it himself, which would have been so much easier. Then he'd demonstrated casting the line as far out into the stream as possible. Over and over again he'd shown her and she wasn't even working for a badge in fishing. This was simply extracurricular outdoor stuff. If patience was a virtue, Riley Dixon was the most virtuous man on the planet.

Well, not entirely, she thought, shivering at the memory of his kiss. But at a moment like that, virtue could be highly overrated. She had to stop thinking that way. She had to put up her shields and get through this because… Why?

After today they wouldn't have any reason to see
each other. He wouldn't get personal because of his past. Just her luck to meet a great guy who had less reason to trust than she did. And just in case he did decide to take a chance, she would put on the brakes. She wasn't willing to risk that he wasn't substituting her and Kimmie for the family he'd lost.

Bottom line: they were two people with good, solid common sense where love was concerned. Neither of them was interested. There was no reason she couldn't simply relax and have a good time. Enjoy the enjoyable company of a man. By golly, she'd bought and paid for him; she was going to do just that.

Suddenly Kimmie started squealing and Abby's mom radar clicked on. She jumped up and ran to the edge of the stream. “What's wrong?”

“Mommy, I've got a bite.”

“What? An insect? Snake?” She searched the area around them for slithery stuff.

“Fish,” Riley said, obviously amused. “She's got a fish on her line.”

“Oh, my gosh.”

“Riley? What do I do?” Kimmie asked, holding her fishing pole with both hands to keep it from getting away. “Help me.”

He squatted, sort of surrounding her, ready to take over if necessary. “Brace the grip of the pole against your tummy and hold it there while you turn the crank handle with your other hand. Bring him in closer and I'll get him in the landing net.”

Shading her eyes with her hand, Abby looked at the stream current. She could see a fish jumping out of the water, struggling against the line. She wasn't sure she
wanted anything to happen to the fish, but she was rooting for Kimmie's success. Talk about conflict. But she'd bought herself an expert. Let Riley deal with it, she thought.

Slowly, carefully and with as much concentration as a six-year-old could muster, Kimmie reeled her fish in close enough for Riley to net the creature. When he had it, Kimmie dropped the fishing pole and stared down at the fish struggling to survive.

Looking doubtful, she stared at Riley. “Did I hurt 'im?”

“No. But he's not happy.”

“Is his family gonna miss him? Like Nemo's daddy when he couldn't find him?”

“It's a movie,” Abby explained. “When Nemo is captured by fishermen, his father swims to the rescue.”

Riley glanced at her, then finally said, “I guess his family will miss him.”

Kimmie looked at the line protruding from the fish's mouth. “Is he gonna die?”

“If he stays out of the water too long.” Carefully, as if he knew what was coming, Riley removed the hook from the fish's mouth.

“I don't want him to die.”

“If we needed him for dinner, we'd have to,” Riley gently explained to her.

Gravely serious, Kimmie met his gaze. “Do we have other stuff for dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Can I put him back?”

“He's your fish.”

“Even if I was hungry, I wouldn't want to keep him.” Kimmie took the net from him and tipped it over the
stream to let the fish go. When the creature became ensnared in the net's webbing, he helped dislodge it. Finally, it disappeared beneath the water's surface.

Abby shaded her eyes against the sun's glare. “That's the luckiest fish in the Lone Star state.”

“A new lease on life. I'm sure he'll make something of himself with his second chance.” Riley grinned.

Kimmie was looking doubtful again. “I wish I could have brought my cereal.”

Riley touched her nose. “Don't worry. I've got it all under control. You're not going hungry tonight.”

She threw her arms around his neck. “Good. Because I'm gettin' pretty hungry right now and it's not even night.”

“Me, too.” Abby figured it was all the fresh air and exercise, but suddenly she was ravenous.

“Then let's get dinner going,” he agreed.

The kindling, prepared and surrounded by stones, was situated in an open area free of overhanging tree branches. Riley had long wooden matches and after lighting one, he handed it to Kim to ignite the fire. Abby watched Kimmie carefully, as did he, and both of them breathed a sigh of relief when it caught.

“I did it!” Kimmie said, excited about her success.

Riley took the wooden match from her and extinguished it. “Yes, you did. Good job, kiddo. Now I'm going to clean—”

Abby cleared her throat loudly and when she had his attention, discreetly shook her head. “I'll help you get dinner ready.”

“Understood.” He nodded, indicating he got her hint about discussing dead fish in front of Kimmie.

“Can I help with dinner, too?” she asked.

Riley thought for a moment. “You can get water.”

After he handed her a container, she trotted happily down to the stream.

Riley watched until Kimmie was out of earshot. “Sorry. I almost blew it.”

“No problem. You redeemed yourself big-time sending her for water. That was a stroke of genius. She'll play for a long time with rocks and water.”

“Yeah. I thought it would be some good, clean fun.”

And so much more, Abby thought. His kid instincts were so good, so natural. He gave of his time. She thought about the woman who'd made him feel that he wasn't good enough. Abby wasn't prone to violence and always reminded Kimmie to use words to express her feelings. But somehow words weren't enough to express her outrage for what had happened to Riley. She wished for five minutes alone with the witch—no holds barred.