Straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders, she took a moment to compose her expression. The coming confrontation would likely make her extremely unpopular with all parties concerned…but it couldn’t be helped.
The sooner Luke left, the better for all of them.
Chapter Two
Holding that little girl while she squeezed his neck, giggled and repeated his name over and over, was just about the best feeling Luke had experienced in damn near forever. Close on the heels of that came the familiar guilt for sending Sally away when he’d returned to the States, wounded and broken, and for not making contact even after his health had stabilized…until now. He’d had his reasons, and they were good ones at the time, but the longer he stayed away, the harder it became to face her. He probably wouldn’t have mustered the courage to walk up to the door tonight either, if shitface out there hadn’t assaulted her in the front yard. Luke’s vision had blurred to red, his rage taking over when that lousy piece of garbage backhanded her. The dirtbag was lucky to be alive.
No doubt Sally would run Luke off as soon as this crisis was over. He had no right to be here. As though he wouldn’t have been able to figure that out on his own, his brother had pressed the point home in their last phone conversation. Sally hadn’t been the only one pissed off by the way Luke had treated her. In addition, he was almost positive Sally wouldn’t appreciate him turning into a damn stalker in the last week since he’d been here, driving past her house, parking down the street, wanting to go back in time and somehow become good enough for her again.
He hadn’t begun his journey with that intention. Leaving Dad’s house in Los Angeles ten days ago, his destination had been the home of Ian Mathias’s brother, Daniel, a few miles north of Sandpoint, Idaho. Daniel had come to the hospital in Bethesda four days in a row, just to sit and talk about his brother with the last man to see him alive. Luke felt a kinship with Daniel, identified with the honest grief he expressed for Ian. He reminded Luke of his own brother. Before he left, Daniel extracted a promise from Luke to visit him and his family—also a promise way overdue. Somehow, the route he’d chosen to travel took him close to Huntington and Sally’s home, and he’d lost sight of his goal, replaced by the need to make sure she was okay…and, if possible, make things right with her.
Luke spun Jen around fast, the way she liked, then set her on her feet. Kneeling in front of her, he lifted one hand, inviting a high five. She obliged with a decisive smack.
Sally entered the house quietly, closing the door and leaning against it, rather than moving farther into the room. A second later, she dropped her purse, keys and cell phone onto the top of a cabinet that rested along the wall to the right of the door.
Tiffany, the teenage girl from next door, who he’d met a year ago, when she babysat for Sally, unfolded her legs from the couch and stood. She strode toward him, obviously with a purpose, and stuck out her hand. “Thank you for everything you did over there, Mr. Harding.”
Aw hell. He never knew what to do or say when good-intentioned civilians verbally expressed their gratitude. In most cases, they had no idea what he’d done—what he’d seen over there—or that he’d never again be the same person he’d been. Months with a shrink had brought him to the place he was now, knowing he might as well live with his memories because he sure as hell couldn’t change them.
He grasped Tiffany’s hand, because that was what was expected of him, met her somber gray gaze and nodded. Thankfully, she turned away quickly, as they almost always did. Apparently, some sixth sense warned them they really didn’t want to know what went on in his head after the lights went out at night. Not that he didn’t appreciate Tiffany’s gesture, but the military had been hisjob,and he didn’t want or need accolades. After his captivity, everything had changed. His job had become staying alive—failure was not an option. Their image of a hero returning from war was all a lie, and it stuck in his craw.
He forced his attention back to Jen, and the welcome in her eyes soothed his turmoil. “Hey, midget. How old are you now? You’re getting too big for me to twirl around like that.” Luke teased her with the nickname he’d tagged her with a year ago.
As expected, she pointed her spindly finger at him and gave an exaggerated sigh. “I’m nine…too old for that name. Besides, it’s not PC.”
Luke threw back his head and laughed. “PC, huh? I guess youhavegrown up since I’ve been gone. When I was your age, I didn’t know whatpolitically correctmeant.”
The grin faded slowly, replaced with a tilt of her chin. “You were gone a long time, Luke. Were you mad at us?”
His guilt mushroomed at the uncertainty in her small voice. He leaned toward her, moving his face close to hers. “No. Never. I was just detained longer than I’d planned. I came to see my two favorite girls as soon as I could.” Luke wasn’t sure how much to tell her. Apparently, Sally hadn’t discussed with her his time in captivity. And probably not about being turned away at the door to his hospital room either.
The silence stretched for a moment, while Jen looked at her mother with an I-told-you-so grin. It did Luke’s heart good to witness the exchange, and Jen’s unconditional acceptance might make it easier finding favor with Sally.
“Well, I don’t usually worry too much about being PC, but if I was to change, what should I call you? Princess? Rambo? What’s your pleasure?” Luke swept his gaze over her.
She must have grown a good four inches since he’d seen her last, but she was still as slender as a reed. Her chin-length brown hair, a shade lighter than her mother’s, bounced every time she moved, which was a lot. She had Sally’s light blue eyes, and Jen’s now sparkled with mischief.
“No!” She laughed, as if he was the funniest person in the world. “My name is Jen. Maybe you could call me that until we think of a nickname that fits.”
“You know what? Jenis a beautiful name, just right for a beautiful girl, but what’s this business about you being nine? I thought you were eight.”
“Silly. I had a birthday in February.” Once again, her smile faded. “I wanted to invite you, but Mom said you couldn’t come.”
The sadness in her baby blues bit him in the ass…hard. He felt like a total jerk. Luke reached for her and drew her into a hug. “I’m sorry, Jen. I wish I’d been here. Tell you what. Let’s pick a day and go shopping for a birthday present. Anything you want—well…except a car…or a pony.” He crossed his eyes and made a funny face.
Jen laughed, her momentary sadness apparently forgotten. “AnythingI want?”
“As long as it’s okay with your mom.” They both turned to look at Sally, and Luke didn’t miss the wariness and anxiety in her expression.
She was so much more beautiful in person than in the faded photograph in his pocket. Long, dark brown hair hung in wavy tendrils to the middle of her back, its silky texture begging to be touched. Petite in stature, she was almost a full foot shorter than him, but she worked out regularly, or at least she had when he’d first met her, and her body was lithe, agile and strong. He loved her sexy blue eyes and the way they lit up with amusement, mischief and, once in a while, lust. He’d give anything to see happiness in her eyes now, but instead, she avoided meeting his gaze.
Why kid himself? If he was a betting man, he’d wager her unease had nothing to do with what he might buy Jen for her birthday and everything to do with the fact that he was kneeling in the middle of Sally’s living-room floor. Truth be told—he wouldn’t fault her for being cautious. It was a good trait to practice. If only she’d been a bit more circumspect before choosing to go out with the sleazeball in the driveway.
“Is it okay, Mom?” Jen’s excitement erupted with another bounce.
He wouldn’t have blamed Sally for not wanting him to spend time with her daughter, but Jen’s smile of joy was apparently too brilliant to squash. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay, honey? It’s way past your bedtime now. You get ready for bed while I walk Tiffany home.” She grabbed her purse from the cabinet near the door. “I’ll only be a minute.”
“Bye, Tiffany,” Jen said.