From Army To Family

Combat doctor Ian Shupe returns home from overseas with his most important mission: to raise his little girl. But Ian’s a single dad, and working at Eagle Point’s trauma center means having to find child care. When bighearted, struggling lodge owner Bri Landis offers babysitting in exchange for construction work, Ian accepts. He vows to keep his emotional distance from Bri, yet can’t deny that his daughter is blossoming under her tender care. But is he ready to believe that his heart’s deepest prayer may finally be answered?

“I think I have a mutually beneficial barter,” Bri said.

“Were you aware I worked in day care before moving here?”

Several expressions crossed Ian’s face, including profound relief and gratitude. It grew as his gaze swept across the hall to hover protectively over the tiny sleeping beauty he loved with his whole heart.

That moment Bri knew some things for certain.

First, Ian Shupe was about to take her up on her offer to watch his daughter. Second, he could not be more handsome. And third, she’d have to keep her attraction at bay. It sprang out of nowhere as he turned from Tia to Bri and smiled like the sunrise.

Looking at him now, she knew her heart wasn’t safe.

“Bri Landis, you’re a lifesaver.” He shook her hand. Then held it.

“And Ian Shupe, you’re a godsend.”

His face tightened. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“That’s okay, because God would. And that’s all I need to know for now.”

CHERYL WYATT

An R.N. turned stay-at-home mom and wife, Cheryl delights in the stolen moments God gives her to write action- and faith-driven romance. She stays active in her church and in her laundry room. She’s convinced that having been born on a naval base on Valentine’s Day, she was destined to write military romance. A native of San Diego, California, Cheryl currently resides in beautiful, rustic southern Illinois, but she has also enjoyed living in New Mexico and Oklahoma. Cheryl loves hearing from readers. You are invited to contact her at Cheryl@CherylWyatt.com or P.O. Box 2955, Carbondale, IL 62902-2955. Visit her on the web at www.CherylWyatt.com and sign up for her newsletter if you’d like updates on new releases, events and other fun stuff. Hang out with her in the blogosphere at www.Scrollsquirrel.blogspot.com or on the message boards at www.LoveInspiredBooks.com.

Doctor to the Rescue

Cheryl Wyatt

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.

—Genesis 2:7

Mom and Dad: Your encouragement convinced me I could attain any dream I wanted. I took to heart every word of affirmation and praise you spoke. Every reader touched by these books is a result of the two of you championing my dreams and putting flight to every hope you gave me courage to have.

To my former OB crew at Memorial Hospital of Carbondale: I’m thankful for the opportunity to have worked with you as a nurse. Each of you left an indelible impression on my heart. Writing this medical miniseries brought back so many fond memories of you. Miss and love you all!

Lord: Thank You for unshackling my imagination and allowing me to write for You.

To Missy Tippens and Camy Tang: Thank you so much for your help brainstorming this series.

Lisa: You’re the best sister in the world, and I am so thankful we are friends as well as family.

Melissa Endlich and Rachel Burkot: Thank you so much for your encouragement, editorial insight and expertise. I am blessed to be able to work with you!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

Bri Landis’s pulse lurched like the ladder beneath her feet.

With her waist at roof level, she clawed at the eaves of her run-down lake lodge, understanding her brother Caleb’s caution to never climb alone. Heart thumping, Bri clutched the gutter. Ominous buckling. No!

It ripped free in a spray of rust and screeching metal. Screams tore through her as she plummeted...into a bush.

Bri could only gulp. Blink. Moan. She should have listened to her brother, she thought. Caleb was overseas on army medic duty instead of here at home in Eagle Point, Illinois, witnessing Bri make friends with her favorite shrub.

Now the shrub was squished and she was sprawled in it, lamenting her long hair. She disentangled her blond hair, then struggled to get upright amid a sharp sea of scarlet. Sweat beaded her forehead despite late-December’s chill.

Her untimely ladder escapade put a painfully ironic twist on this being the last day of “fall.”

Bri emerged, corky twigs crackling and biting like spindly wooden teeth. Jagged underbrush snagged her brother’s favorite hoodie. Bri pulled it from the branches holding it hostage. Gasp.

Pain seared her left arm. She slid the cuff and looked at it. Unnatural angle. Disbelief slid through her like the ladder off the roof. No question: arm broken.

And with it all hope of meeting the bank’s deadlines.

Dismay ran through her. Saving Landis Lodge—Eagle Point’s only retreat center and her family heritage—from foreclosure, meant renovating and renting seven cabins by mid-February. Roughly one cabin a week. She’d sold the daycare she owned in Chicago and moved home to make it happen.

Now days from Christmas, she risked losing the last thing her late mother loved—the lodge Bri had inherited and promised to save. No way could she afford contractors.

Her teeth chattered. “Where’s my stupid phone?” She needed help ASAP.

Forget going back into the bush to find her phone. A new trauma center sat right next door. Bri held her arm high and stationary and bolted from her yard, not caring if she resembled a maniac.

Eagle Point Trauma Center came into view over a leafy hill.

She’d never been so glad to see a modern facility nestled against rustic Eagle Point Lake, stately risen bluffs, scenic trails and seriously fun caves. The serene landscape of Bri’s childhood home calmed her against the mind-bending pain gnawing her arm.

Halfway to EPTC, dizziness hit Bri. She fell to her knees and clung to a parking barricade.

“She’s hurt!” someone yelled across the lot. Bri couldn’t be sure who it was. Nausea sent her face between her knees. Rapid footsteps pounding nearby pavement competed with the pulse swooshing her ears.

Strong hands gently braced her shoulders. “Hey, you okay?”

Her bad day just got worse.

Bri blinked up into the stunning aqua eyes of the absolute last person she wanted seeing her in this state.

Dr. Ian Shupe.

Yet, for the first time since meeting him weeks ago, concern and compassion emanated from the tall, dark and imposing anesthesiologist’s normally sullen eyes. “What happened, Bri?”

“Ladder slid. I f-fell,” she puffed past savage pain.

Ian’s assessing eyes quickly roved over her. “How far?”

Tremors overtook her. “Maybe nine feet.”

Did his face just pale? For sure, his jaw tightened. Probably thought she was an idiot. Ian’s warm fingers felt soft yet strong and capable as they examined her elbow.

Kate, the center’s surgical nurse, skidded in, dropped to her knees, took one look at Bri’s injured arm and gave Ian a pointed look.

He nodded once. “Already saw it. Get a gurney and splints.”

“Will do.” Kate flashed Bri a strength-infusing smile, then dashed back toward the trauma center.

“C-collar, too,” Ian called to Kate, then faced Bri again. Broad shoulders and impressive arms obviously well acquainted with a gym flexed and bunched as he maneuvered closer, training his eyes on her. His firm strength and sure demeanor erased her fears and convinced her that despite his terse reputation she was in good hands. “Where do you hurt most?”

“My left forearm. But I think I can walk the rest of—”

“No. In fact, don’t move.” Ian shirked off his suit coat, its raven color identical to his black military-style hair. Coat spread on asphalt, he settled Bri on it. His palms became her pillow. His gesture soothed. “Did you land on concrete?”

She started to shake her head but stopped when Ian’s thumbs pressed against her temples, keeping her neck still.

“No. I landed in the waiting arms of a winged euonymus.”

“A what?” Confusion amped up his cuteness.

“Big red hedge. More widely known as a burning bush.”

A congenial nod seemed out of character for his usual surly self. His fingers kneaded and prodded her bones and muscles. Fierce concentration knit his brows. Had he any idea how handsome he was in doctor mode? Her arm might be broken, but nothing was wrong with her eyes. Bri chided herself for noticing the good doctor’s bad-boy looks.

Not only had military deployments and divorce left him notoriously difficult and brooding, Bri’s heart still felt raw after the end of a bad relationship with a verbally abusive boyfriend.

Her move from the Chicago suburbs to downstate Illinois had finally given her the long-needed courage to break up with Eric two months ago. If only he’d stop calling and harassing her. Dr. Shupe’s abrasive manner reminded her too much of Eric. Except, Ian wasn’t being curt and caustic now, but gentle and thorough.

Bri huffed at the physical exam. “Nothing’s numb. Or tingly. Or blurry. I didn’t hit my head or black out, either.”

Ian’s mouth twitched. Wrestling back a smile? She’d love to see it. She didn’t think him capable of glee before now.

Bri sighed. “Sorry. Caleb’s injury training wears off on me. I’m his study buddy and procedural guinea pig. He splints, tags, bandages, braces and bores the living daylights out of me for his military medic certifications and field practice exams.”

The humor whispering along Ian’s lips in a near smile spread to his eyes now, deepening them to a breathtaking blue. They turned serious and probing. “What were you doing on the ladder?”

“Renovating the lodge. Replacing eaves.” Or attempting to.

“By yourself?”

Here came the lecture. She got enough of those from Caleb over her fierce determination to save Landis Lodge.

If she lost the lodge, she might also lose the memories, especially of childhood with Mom. Grief knotted her throat.

“Who else do I have?” She bit her lip as Ian’s eyebrows rose. But she had valid reasons to grouch. Her ex was a dud, her dad a deadbeat, her mom was deceased, her brother was deployed and a bank breathed ultimatums down her back. Now a broken arm ordeal that she didn’t have time for. But it could have been much worse. Lord, thank you for cushioning my fall.

“Who’s on call?” Bri instantly regretted her words. “You’re obviously off duty and not who’d take care of me, since you’re an anesthest—however you say it. I won’t need one of those, right?”

Ian’s vague expression did not make her feel good.

Lord, please don’t let me need surgery. Ian’s inexplicable rudeness since she’d moved back here proved she wouldn’t be his first choice in a patient.

Her new friends, Lauren and Kate, had told her that Ian only acted abrasive because he was attracted to Bri in the wake of his unwanted divorce. Gibberish.

On the other hand, the girls had to be in the know, since they were nurses on Ian’s trauma team. Plus Lauren’s fiancé, Mitch, was Ian’s best friend and lead trauma surgeon on the team. Ian suddenly flashed a penlight at her eyes, dotted with... “Fairy stickers?”

He smiled wryly. “My little daughter put them there.” The five-year-old he’d been embroiled in custody battles over. Ian would probably freak if he knew how Bri knew about that. She focused on the fairies to distract from excruciating arm pain.

Kate arrived with a gurney and supplies. After applying the neck brace, she brandished a pair of bandage scissors.

“Don’t cut my hoodie! It’s Caleb’s keepsake. Please, I have a tank top underneath.” The world went sideways as they rolled Bri onto a backboard before righting her. Kate texted someone.

“I’ll try. No guarantees.” Ian eased the hoodie off and splinted her arm as if he’d done it a hundred thousand times. Probably had, overseas during combat surgeries.

“Didn’t realize you could do all that being an anest—that.”

Ian’s mouth thinned into another smirk.

Kate leaned toward his ear. “Since your final custody hearing’s in an hour, I paged the nurse-anesthetist on call.”

Ian glanced at his watch. Scratched his jaw. Addressed Kate in low tones. Bri heard mention of her brother’s name. Caleb had commissioned Ian to watch over her when he deployed last week. Why Ian? Especially in light of Ian’s hostility toward her.

Then Caleb had suddenly dubbed Ian her bodyguard? What was up with that? She didn’t need to be protected. Or babysat.

Ian plucked sage twigs, fiery leaves and feathers from her hair. “Nest?”

“Almost.” Kate winked and strode in her usual militant but graceful fashion. How Kate could be runway-model pretty and a black belt was beyond Bri, but Kate was someone Bri was glad to know. Except she aimed a needle at her now.

Bri squished her eyes until the worst was over. Eyes open, she realized she’d not only grabbed Ian’s arm but left crescent marks. Bri recoiled, fearing an acrid verbal assault like ones Eric was prone to.

But Ian didn’t seem fazed. Calmly and gently, he wiped his arm with sterile gauze.

Perhaps Bri’s friends had been right: the craggy, abrasive creature she’d experienced these past few weeks wasn’t the real Ian.

* * *

Ian refused to react to the sting of Bri’s nails. She was anxious, hurting and stressed, so her actions were understandable.

Odd, though, her latching onto him for comfort so easily. Especially since he’d been a total jerk to her for weeks.

Not liking the claws of guilt scraping at him, Ian adjusted Bri’s IV drip and faced Kate, jotting Bri’s vitals. “She needs antibiotics, trauma labs, X-rays and CTs stat.”

Kate nodded. They effortlessly hefted the backboard to the gurney and push-ran Bri, who was so tall her heels almost hung off the end.

Kate’s cell chimed. Without missing steps, she answered. “Hey, wanna start this way? Ian needs to cut out and we have an incoming ladder mishap. Yeah. Lodge owner next door.”

“Lisa, my nurse anesthetist.” Ian couldn’t miss this court hearing. Yet he couldn’t leave Bri. Her condition could skid off a cliff without warning. Eighty percent of people falling from heights of eleven feet or more died. She’d fallen nine. Internal injuries didn’t always present right away.

He’d learned that the hard way, overseas while deployed with Mitch, Kate and other air force trauma-team members who had yet to join them at EPTC, Mitch’s stateside endeavor.

“Why would I need an anesthes—that thing?” Bri swallowed.

Ian glanced down, resisting the urge to rest a calming hand on hers. “In case the need arises to surgically repair your arm.”

She had no clue that could be the least of her worries. Part of his job, for now, was to keep her clueless. If she were bleeding internally, increased anxiety could speed her pulse, hasten hemorrhage and put her life at risk.

“The break is bad, isn’t it?” Dread crinkled her forehead. “How soon can I use my arm?”

Ian’s determination sparked. “Only after it’s healed.”

Bri tensed and licked her lips. “And when will that be?”

Inside EPTC, they wheeled Bri into a trauma bay. “Depends on if soft tissue is involved or just bone. Six weeks minimum.”

“Six week—” Choked on the words, Bri tried to sit up. Kate restrained her. “I’ll never make the deadline!”

She must mean foreclosure proceedings. Caleb had filled Ian in. Bri’s face strained as he studied her. Sensing her struggle, Ian squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, then stepped out. Simple gesture. Sincere. Yet it seemed to make her want to cry more.

He wished he could help, but he had his own stuff going on. Deadlines from every direction. Work, plus training, plus helping set up a second trauma crew so EPTC didn’t lose vital funding.

Then there was Tia, his only daughter and number one priority. She should have been all along, but a mentally unstable mother and a cross-continental war had caused him to be a stranger in his daughter’s eyes.

Ian’s gut clenched. Sweat misted his palms. If he didn’t show in court today, that could put him in jeopardy with the judge who would decide Tia’s fate and their future as a family.

He eyed his watch, and hoped Lisa would get here soon or he’d be faced with abandoning a patient and breaking a battlefield promise to a brother-in-arms. Stress drove him to walk halls.

After pacing, Ian parked his anesthesia cart outside Bri’s bay. Regret multiplied. He’d promised Caleb to watch over her. He’d failed. He owed Caleb. Big-time. Ian reentered Bri’s room, intent on righting his wrong. “You hangin’ in there, Bri?”

Not until seeing her under fluorescent lighting did he realize how white-blond and silky long her hair was. Blinking swiftly, she aimed her pretty cornflower-blue eyes up at him, making him momentarily forget what he came in here for. Must be lack of sleep from a week’s worth of on-call nights. “Dr. Shupe, what turned me too stupid to heed Caleb’s warning?”

He wanted to chuckle. “It’s Ian. And trust me, my list of stupid things is twice as long as yours. Kate’s is triple.”

Kate snorted from the corner of the room and stepped out. Bri’s face sobered. “Seriously, what stripped my common sense today?”

“Could be the ominous bank notices you’ve been getting recently.”

She stared long and hard at him. “You know about that?”

He nodded. Bri lost the battle holding in her tears the second Kate came in carrying X-rays and a sympathetic expression. “Sorry, Bri. The bones aren’t aligned, so surgery is a must.”

Ian knew that could double her recovery time and triple her chances of losing the lodge. Compassion for Bri and Caleb washed over Ian. They had just lost their mom and were about to lose their childhood home and heritage. Not to mention the community was about to lose an iconic retreat center that once was, according to Mitch, the bustling pulse of the rustic, close-knit community.

The bank had planned to shut down and level the Landis family’s grounds, which included the main lodge, fourteen cabins and seven bunkhouses.

His morning runs around Eagle Point Lake revealed the retreat as a flat horizontal triangle. The main lodge made the point, seven cabins on either side angled out in two lines and bunkhouses formed a bottom line opposite the lodge.

“Bri, if you’re worried about losing the lodge, don’t be.”

Surprise flashed across her face. Tears welling up meant he’d hit a nerve. “Your cabins need to be fixed. I worked construction in college. Let me help.”

“I don’t accept anything for free.”

“You can’t be serious?” The stubborn set to her jaw said she was. “Fine. Caleb mentioned you have a child-care degree. I need a permanent sitter for Tia. Problem solved.”

“You mean, like a barter?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. Think about it.”

The next moments were a flurry of activity as Bri was assessed, prodded, questioned, medicated, primped with surgical garb and prepped.

Ian smiled at her. Her vitals had calmed after he’d proposed the barter. It could work. He’d just have to be brutal with his time, which meant no entertaining, no socializing and definitely no dating.

Lisa rushed up, tying her mask. “I’m here, Ian. Shoo. Go.”

Bri hyperventilated at the O.R. doors. Understandable, since, according to Caleb, their mom died in surgery. Ian brushed fingers along Bri’s hand. She clutched him in a death grip. “Please don’t tell Caleb I broke my arm. I’m scared it’ll distract him in combat. I can’t lose another family member. He’s all I have.” Her raw voice disintegrated.

That she was more concerned for her brother than for herself hit Ian to the core.

He held on to her fingers as long as he could. He was already late for court, and her orthopedic surgeon waited not so patiently. But Bri’s pleading eyes really got to him.

But, he had to get to court.

He also had to call her brother. If she had complications in surgery or under general anesthesia, they’d need directives from family. She’d be mad, but being a doctor wasn’t a popularity contest. It meant making hard decisions that sometimes caused pain. He averted his gaze.

“Ian, Caleb can’t know I’m in surgery. Okay?”

Despite the risk of making her angry by disregarding her request, Ian was convinced Caleb needed to know. Ian released Bri’s fingers and nodded to Kate to take her on in.

Even out of sight, Bri’s pleading face wouldn’t leave his mind. He sighed. Rounded the corner. Walked the hall. He pulled out his phone, knowing legally, ethically and morally, he had to call her emergency contact. He hoped it would be a nonissue.

Especially when Bri discovered he’d called her brother.

Caleb was a capable army medic. He could handle hard information and compartmentalize it in a way to keep his head in the game and not endanger himself or his fellow soldiers.

On the other hand, if something happened to Caleb...

Ian weighed his options, waffling between Bri’s atypical emotional plea and what his doctors’ creed dictate he do.

Ian sighed. This time at the irony of staring at a so-called smart phone while wondering if this would turn out to be the stupidest thing he had ever done.

His Hippocratic oath came to mind. But doubt assailed him. Her surgery was dangerous and she had no one else to call. Caleb had confided that their estranged dad was incapacitated in a nursing home. A sense of sadness over her isolation riddled Ian.

Nevertheless, he pulled up the number for Caleb’s commander, texted a message marked as urgent and pushed Send.

* * *

The morning after surgery, Bri woke from a groggy mist to a most pleasant sound. A masculine voice drawing close. A deep chuckle, then, “Get some sleep, Kate.”

Ian? Bri’s eyes fluttered open at the smell of evergreen. Ian’s cologne reminded her of Christmas. He approached and rested casual elbows on her bed’s side rail. “Good morning, Crash.”

A smile touched her lips before she could stop it. She took in Ian’s disheveled appearance. Wrinkled scrubs. Ruffled hair. Sleepy eyes and a shadow-roughed jaw she hoped he wouldn’t shave. “You look worse than I feel,” she fibbed. “Rough night?”

Lip twitching, he ripped an O.R. mask off his neck. “Yeah. The shortest day of the year feels like infinity.”

“That’s right. Today’s the first day of winter.” She also recalled the barter. “Were you serious yester—”

Rock music chimed. Annoyance flashed across his face as if it were the call coming across his touch screen. Ian’s reaction made her courage disappear, taking her back to intimidating tones Eric had used when she’d unwittingly called at “inconvenient” times.

Ian touched his cell phone. “Shupe.”

“Ian, this is your neighbor,” said an older woman. “I want to make you aware your little’n wandered over here again.”

Ian’s face snapped up, his expression full of worry. “Tia’s there?”

“Yes. I’m guessing your babysitter got too busy texting again to realize Tia was gone. Again.”

Ian’s jaw rippled. “I’ll be there right away, Miss Ellie.”

“I’d watch her for you, but I’ve got chemo today.”

“No, no, Ell. You need to keep your appointment.” His voice, tender upon first hearing Ell’s voice, softened more.

Suddenly realizing Bri had heard the entire conversation, Ian masked his features and stepped out.

His child care wasn’t working out and he was considering a leave from EPTC, which opened mere months ago. His absence would strain staff and halt expansion projects. She knew about those from small-town breakfast chatter at Sully’s, a local mom-and-pop eatery.

Also, Mitch, EPTC’s founder, requested prayers at Eagle Point Lake Pavilion’s “PRAYZ” gathering Tuesday, a weekly event Lauren and Kate had invited Bri to attend. Bri had learned there of Ian’s struggles with Tia, whose mom had abandoned her. Bri had her own wounds from when her father had left them destitute. Like her neurotic inability to accept help.

Would Ian be angry if he knew people prayed for him? Eric had gone ballistic upon discovering she confided in praying pals about their faltering relationship. She’d been foolish to let him bully her into staying together. Never again would she let a man intimidate and manipulate her with angry words and arctic moods.

Ian exited an office across the hall and reentered her room. He grabbed his lab coat off a wall hook, brusque motions depicting the strain of a struggling single dad who hadn’t gotten enough sleep in the two weeks Tia had been living with him. He stormed for the door, then doubled back.

He snatched a parent how-to book off her chair, evidence he’d been here before. Her gaze sought his. Face stony, he crammed the book under his arm. Why hide it? No one blamed him for wanting to be a better dad. He left in a stiff, halfhearted daze.

Fifteen minutes later, the sound of a little girl crying pierced Bri’s heart. “I don’t wanna come here! I want my mom!”

Ian passed by with a tiny flailing person clad in a purple tutu. His face and bulky arms were severely strained, and the child was crying like a banshee. “I want my mo-o-om!”

But your mom doesn’t want you.

Bri knew that from town chatter, too—that Ian fiercely shielded Tia from her mom’s rejection.

“I don’t want you! I don’t know you!” Tia screamed at Ian.

“I know, Tia. I’m sorry,” Ian said, his voice raw but gentle. “But I know and love you. Things will end up all right. I promise.”

Bri hoped Ian believed his own words. But while his voice was calm and confident, his eyes were desperate.

Thankfully, Tia couldn’t see. Her face was red, and her cries gradually softened to hiccuppy whimpers.

Ian walked the floor with Tia swaddled in the strength of his arms. He swayed her, feet bouncing in gentle rhythmic daddy-dance Bri hoped Tia would recognize as his way of infusing security and comfort. Bri’s heart squeezed.

How could she complain about her own problems when fragile Tia was in such harrowing turmoil? Bri’s heart broke for the little girl.

Lord, mend this broken family. Help Tia trust her daddy. Help her daddy trust You. Prove to them You Are.

The next time Ian passed, Tia rested a chafed and soppy cheek against his broad shoulder. Ian’s tenderness melted Bri.

Wow. He wasn’t the icy-hearted guy she thought she knew. Bri strained to see past shadows muting her view. Emotion glimmered in his eyes. He didn’t look as though he had strength left to care who saw it, either. Though Ian’s brooding insolence reminded Bri of Disney’s Beast, she’d help them for Tia’s sake.

Kate entered with Bri’s bone surgeon, who examined her, wrote discharge orders and left. Kate handed Bri a gift bag.

“Clean clothes!” Bri’s heart swelled at the gesture. Kate helped her dress around the cast. “Um, is Ian still here?”

“I’ll send him in.” As Kate stepped out, she smirked.

Ian walked in, looking worn and weary, moments later. “Kate’s watching Tia so you can speak with me. What’s up?”

Bri’s nerves coiled like a Slinky. “About that barter. We’re still on, right?”

Ian smiled like a sunrise. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. Bring Tia tomorrow morning, in fact.”

His gaze tacked across her casted arm. “Not sure that’s—”

“My surgeon said I could still train for the fundraising marathon. If I can run a 5K race, I can chase a kindergarten-bound kid.”

“‘Chase’ is right.” His face sharpened. Eyes narrowed. “How did you know her age and that she’s starting school next year?”

“Uhm, I—” she stammered. “It’s a small town. People talk, Ian.”

His mouth thinned. “Apparently.”

“So, about that barter...”

“You’ll let me help renovate the lodge, no resistance?”

“None. You save my cabins from foreclosure. I solve your child-care problem.” She reached out her hand. “Deal?”

He hesitated, then shook guardedly, nodding to her cast. “Deal. So long as you don’t overdo it and undo the repairs we did.”

“We?”

He scrubbed his neck. “Yeah. I, uh, scrubbed in for your surgery.”

“Why? It’s not like my injuries were life threatening.”

His silence unnerved her, and negated her statement.

“Thanks, Ian. That was nice of y—”

“It’s my job,” he responded too quickly. She opted not to inform him he wasn’t convincing. She stuffed her feet into her shoes and realized she couldn’t tie them one handed.

He knelt and did it for her without her having to ask.

Bri bristled and cringed. She hated to be the one needing help.

“Thanks. By the way, the really caring guy I glimpsed on the asphalt yesterday? Then today in the hall hoisting a princess in poufy purple? I hope he sticks around awhile.”

Chapter Two

Ian hoped this wasn’t a mistake.

He was who he was, and that was that. Appeasing Bri wasn’t a priority. Yet, here he was, trekking to her house with Tia.

Coyotes howled in the dusky morning distance. Not distant enough for his liking. He put himself between the woodlands and Tia as they crossed a forest-flanked parking lot between the ritzy state-of-the-art trauma center and Bri’s humble log home. Another feral round of howls sounded. He reached for Tia.

She jerked away, pink tutu fanning her jeans. “I don’t want to hold your hand and I don’t wanna go to her icky tree house.”

Ian stopped. Eyed Bri’s place. Icky? Hardly. Tree house? He smiled. Tia had obviously never seen a log home before. It did look pioneerish under the effect of a purple twilight.

“Tia, I have to be in surgery with my patient in twenty minutes.” He gritted his teeth and ignored the guilt.

A newborn winter breeze rustled Tia’s curly brown hair and caused it to fall over her amber-eyed scowl. As they passed the luminous main lodge and approached Bri’s cabin, Tia got busy in bribe mode. “Please-don’t-make-me-go!” came out as one word. Her face brightened. “I’ll even clean my room.”

Ian dipped his head to hide the snicker. Truth be told, her offer tempted, since this morning her room had turned into a disaster. How could one small person make that big a mess? “Tell you what, we’ll get Sully’s sherbet after work.”

“I don’t like ice cream. And I don’t like you!” She shoved him away, looking like a fugitive pondering flight. He pinched the hem of the new coat he’d bought her in case she made good on the getaway brewing in her eyes. Bri must’ve heard the sidewalk scuffle, because she peeled her window curtain back.

Ian knelt in front of Tia, who glared at him. “Clearly, you’re not happy about having to come here. But I need your cooperation. Please, mind Miss Bri, and be careful of her arm.”

Bri stepped onto a rambling redwood deck that shone with a new coat of cherry lacquer she must’ve applied. Ian stood.

Tia went ballistic, eyes darting around the tree-dotted yard as though seeking escape. Panic filled him that she might actually pull it off. His eyes veered to the deep lake. Images of last night’s river drowning victims flooded Ian’s imagination. He bent down, embarrassed he didn’t know this yet about his own daughter. “Tia, how well do you swim?”

“I don’t know. I never tried it.” She eyed the sparkly sapphire lake, looking very much as though she wanted to, though. Fear like Ian had never known noosed his neck.

Bri knelt. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t leave my sight,” she reassured as though seeing the stark fear swirling inside him. Ian had never known fire-red, dragon-breathing fear. Not even in combat.

This was his daughter. His joy. His life.

If something were to happen to her...

Ian swept her up in his arms and hugged tight despite her wriggling and making gagging noises. A kiss planted on her forehead, he carried her inside Bri’s cabin and set her down at the farthest end from the lake and all its dangers. “I’ll be back at two. Sooner if I can. Later if traumas pour in.”

Ian felt hope as Tia darted behind his legs, away from Bri. He knelt at eye level, bracing Tia’s arms. “Listen, Miss Bri is your new babysitter. She’s fun. You’ll like her.”

She scowled at him, then Bri. “I’ll hate her.”

“Not acceptable, Tia.” Beyond that, he didn’t know what to say. Make her apologize? He could crawl under a rock. As a dad, he was an epic failure. He studied Tia, hoping for a lightning bolt of wisdom.

Bri knelt in front of Tia. “You mean to tell me you’d hate a babysitter who loves to fairy hunt?”

Tia’s eyes widened. Anger fled. Flabbergasted, Ian blinked. What just happened here?

“Fairy hunt?” Tia sucked in a heap of air. “For real?” She looked at Ian for confirmation.

“Sure,” he answered Tia. “Bri’s a renowned fairy hunter.”

Suspicion narrowed Tia’s eyes. She stepped over to Bri. Aimed a finger at her nose. “Prove it.”

When Bri rose, extending her arm, Tia reached for her hand.

And just like that, Bri won his daughter’s fragile trust.

A little jealous, Ian bid them goodbye with his daughter’s demand ringing through his head and heart.

Prove it.

Those two words were the summation of his life right now, Ian thought as he strode a familiar path to the trauma center.

He desperately needed to win Tia’s trust. Needed to prove he wasn’t the world’s biggest failure as a husband and a dad. Prove to a bank that Bri’s lodge was worth saving. Prove to financial backers that his trauma center expansion projects were worth their time and dime. And lastly, he needed to know, and needed Tia to know, that life would get better. That she’d be okay.

Especially since the ink had dried on unpreventable papers. Ones on which Tia’s mom had too easily signed her away. Anger consumed him that Ava chose a sleazy boyfriend over a child. Now at EPTC’s side entrance for employees, he jerked open the heavy steel door, stormy gray like his mood. He stalked down the halls, not caring that staff had to scramble out of his way.

He wanted to get these surgeries over with and end this too-long and terrible day. Get back to his daughter and try to earn the trust that would take all her pain away.

The second Ian stepped into the operating room, he became all about the medicine. His focus fastened fully on the patient. A patient who deserved a better bedside manner than Ian had displayed walking in here.

A teen girl with the same color hair as his daughter’s.

He needed to apologize to his staff and resist making excuses for his bad behavior. Sure, he’d been up all night tending a never-ending stream of traumas. Hard ones. The kind he couldn’t save. But so had they. Friday nights were like that.

At the operating table, he faced Mitch. “We need to come up with some positive activities for teens around here, bro. Alcohol-infested parties sent way too many of ’em in here last night.” And two of them to their graves prematurely.

Mitch nodded and began to work on the teen whose face had fractured on impact from projectile wine-cooler bottles last night. Two unbelted passengers had been ejected and pulled massive amounts of water into their lungs when the car skidded into a riverbank.

Ian fought worrying over Tia and her curiosity, and Bri’s cabin sitting so close to the lake. Ian trusted Bri. He focused on damping down his fear while enabling his patient to breathe. “She owes her life to her seat belt. It’s good she was buckled, but she shouldn’t have had access to alcohol at age sixteen.”

Mitch nodded. “Agreed.”

A series of mechanical beeps, shooshes and stainless-steel-on-steel chinks invaded the sterile suite along with silent concentration as the surgery got under way.

After their successful operation, Ian found Mitch charting at a mahogany desk in the plaid-decor doctors’ lounge. “Did you hear what I said earlier about creating alternatives for teens?”

Mitch scratched notes on a post-op report and sighed. “I’ll stick it on the list.” Remorse flickered in his eyes. “I hate being so time strapped.” He was getting married in a few months. While Ian was happy for Mitch, attending his wedding was going to be difficult. Especially in light of a divorce Ian had desperately tried to prevent.

Plus, they were under a ton of pressure to get a second trauma crew selected and trained so the current crew wasn’t so stretched with long hours and lack of sleep. Like last night.

Poor Tia. He’d had to drag her here. Tia! Ian slammed his watch up. Ten past two. He stood abruptly. “Hey, Mitch, catch you later. Gotta go. I promised Tia I’d try and be back by two.” He sprinted across EPTC’s lot, past Landis Lodge to Bri’s cabin, hoping her quirky bird clock hadn’t squawked, alerting Tia to his lateness.

Bri met his approach at the deck, finger to her lips. He tripped with a tremendous clatter over a gnome in her yard. Despite winter’s chilly onset, heat blasted his neck.

After seeing if he was okay, Bri bit back a grin and stood. “Try to be quiet. She’s napping.”

“Wow. You got her to nap?” He stepped into her cabin to mouthwatering scents of Italian herbs, roasted tomatoes and cheesy pasta. The open-room layout afforded a great view of her forest-critter themed kitchen and stove. His stomach growled, reminding him he’d been too occupied to eat.

“We hunted fairies all morning.” She motioned him to have a seat and set a tall glass of tea in front of him.

He sipped, loving the memories it evoked of dinners with family. A scenario Bri probably hadn’t experienced in years. His heart clenched, wondering if it would always be just him and Tia.

He’d missed family get-togethers while at war. He needed to carve out time to take Tia to visit his mom. She’d like Bri. Ian ripped his gaze from whatever culinary goodness bubbled in that pan, and the ridiculous notion that Bri would ever meet his mom.

Bri watched him. Too carefully. “Would you and Tia like to have dinner with me?”

He rubbed the condensation on his glass. “I guess we could.” His stomach rumbled intense gratitude. “What time?”

“How does five sound?”

“Great, actually. That’ll give me a couple hours to wrangle the cabin that bucked you off its roof.” He smirked and reached for a washed cherry tomato she’d put in a bowl. The second he popped it in his mouth, his tongue cheered. “I’m kinda hungry.”

“I kinda noticed.” Bri grinned. “We’ll see you at five.”

Ian jogged past the trauma lot to Lakeview Road, where his yard sat two houses away from EPTC. He loaded work stuff in his truck and drove to Bri’s, not wanting Tia to have to trek home in the dark. Once there, he attacked cabin renovations with fervor.

A little over two hours later, his cell rang. “Hey, Bri.”

“Hi. Wanted to let you know dinner’s almost ready. Also, Tia’s still sleeping. She’s not feverish, so I don’t think she’s ill. But I wasn’t sure how long you wanted her to nap. Any longer and she’s liable not to sleep well tonight.”

If he got called in again, Tia wouldn’t sleep well, anyway. “Go ahead and let her sleep. I’ll grab a shower and be over.”

Her hesitation jabbed him. He needed more regular hours, but that couldn’t happen until they got a second trauma crew trained. Ian sprinted home, showered and walked back to Bri’s. The second she let him in, his taste buds watered in anticipation. “It smells amazing.”

So did she, as she leaned close to him to refresh his glass. “Vanilla?”

Her eyes rose. “No, just plain old tea.”

“I meant your perfume. It’s nice. So is the tea.” He inhaled the iced tea in two gulps. “Iced, even in winter?” he added since she shifted uncomfortably under his compliment. Best to keep things casual. Not personal.

“It’s Southern Illinois. People sit in hot tubs and drink sweet iced tea all year round, even on cool nights.”

“I can believe that.” He stretched his back and arms.

Her gaze skittered over him, then quickly away, eyes like a feather across his skin. She pulled out burgundy-cushioned bar stools at the kitchen counter dividing a warm-umber dining room from the canary-yellow kitchen. Her color choices were like the varying levels of her personality: shy but strong, bright and stark, each wall painted a different vivid, modern color.

Unlike his walls, which were a mix of muted, neutral, dark and subdued, which matched his personality right now.

For a brief second, Ian wished Bri knew the humorous, lighthearted, fun-loving guy he used to be. Then his marriage had imploded. Life would never be the same and he’d likely never be that guy again. Her words drifted back: That guy? I hope he sticks around. For the first time in a long time, Ian did, too.

But workload, stress and the pain of divorce didn’t promise to let up anytime soon, so it was doubtful.

Bri motioned him to a stool, then sat on one herself.

He eased onto the end stool, leaving two comfortably between them. He enjoyed the break on his feet. He’d been on them nearly twenty-six hours now. “Find any fairies today?”

She chuckled, lowering her gaze. Her lashes brushed the high slope of her cheek. “No, but the troll you tripped so gracefully over has been assigned by Tia to scout the yard for them.”

“I see. I’m not surprised Tia napped, actually. I had to drag her out of bed twice to bring her to the trauma center.”

She shifted thoughtfully. “How come? Did you get called in on a case or something?” She swiped a bead of tea off her lip.

He averted his gaze. “Yeah. Twice.” He should reassure her Tia hadn’t been unattended. Passed around amid nurses, yes. Left alone for one minute, no. “Staff took turns watching her.”

She adjusted her arm sling. “That won’t work long-term.”

Ian nodded, feeling fortunate to have Bri babysitting. She cared. “At least Tia’s not being shuffled around during the daytime, thanks to you.” Still, no wonder Tia’s moodiness had escalated this morning. She hadn’t had proper sleep. Bri was right. It couldn’t last. He was her only parent now. “I need to establish a routine and propagate proper sleep.”

A smile touched Bri’s lips.

“At least that’s what that bossy parenting book said.”

That made her laugh. He was glad. More than he should be.

He forced the smile back down. “I’d like to tell the book’s know-it-all author his ridiculous creative parenting ideas are easier said than done for time-strapped single parents in survival mode.”

She rubbed her arm above the cast. “What creative ideas?”

“Silly stuff, like making Christmas trees with stacked star cookies and caterpillars out of cupcakes and—”

She jerked. Eyes darted to the counter behind him. He turned, peering at the artistic culinary creations, including none other than a caterpillar cupcake.

He looked at Bri. Face down, she rubbed her arm again. Two things greatly concerned him. One, she seemed fearful he’d ridicule her for the cutesy cupcakes she and Tia had created. Second, she couldn’t seem to leave her arm alone.

“You keeping up with your pain meds, Bri?”

Her eyes veered even farther away. Yet the stubbornness befell her that Caleb had warned him about. “As much as possible. I don’t want to risk falling asleep with Tia here.”

“Aw, Bri. I considered that. You need—”

Her head shook. “No. I’m tough. I can take a little pain.”

She might have convinced him had the hollowness not haunted her eyes. She rose swiftly and went to work at the stove.

Ian followed, grabbing salad ingredients. “You okay?”

She shrugged. “I’m worried about Caleb. He hasn’t called.”

Ian froze, knife midslice in a cucumber. Come to think of it, he hadn’t heard from Caleb, either. Not since the day of Bri’s surgery. “I’ll call him. Find out what’s going on.”

Bri added carrots to the lettuce Ian tossed. “No, let me. I’m afraid if you call him, you’ll tell him about my injury.”

* * *

Bri grew alarmed when Ian tensed. “He doesn’t know, right?”

Tia must’ve woke because she shuffled in the next room. “Yes! I’m sure of it, Boom. They got hillbilly fairies in this here forest. And it’s not only haunted with fairy-eating trolls, it’s naked. All the PJs blew to the ground, Boom.”

Ian and Bri turned. Tia walked circles, play phone to her bed-head ear. Naked? The fairies or the forest? Bri wondered.

“How odd,” Ian said, watching Tia wear tracks on the wood parquet floor Bri had installed last week. At least she’d gotten her cabin renovated before falling, thus had a decent place to live.

“What’s odd? Boom? He’s Tia’s imaginary friend.”

He scowled. “She’s my daughter. I am well acquainted with Boom, the infamous scapegoat for Tia’s messy room. I meant odd in the sense that I pace like that when I’m on my cell phone.”

Bri felt like laughing at the fact that Ian didn’t seem the least bit alarmed by Tia’s talk of ill-attired fairies, fallen PJs or cannibalistic trolls. Yet at the same time, Bri’s ire rose at being scolded over explaining who Boom was.

She drew a deep breath to calm down. “I noticed her pacing. And you never answered my question about Caleb.”

His eyes flicked to her with annoyance before returning to rest on Tia. The look of wounded nostalgia entering his eyes caused Bri to stop pressing the Caleb issue. For now.

Ian might be standing here now but his mind was a world away. He watched Tia with a mix of regret and awe as she paced like he did. “I wonder what else she acquired from me,” he said, confirming Bri’s hunch.

“She definitely acquired your beastly moods and appetite.”

Before Ian could utter a retort, Bri stepped out of his line of fire. “Tia, wash your hands. Dinner’s ready.” Bri went to pull garlic bread from the oven.

Ian blocked her. “Let me.” He eyed her casted arm. “You could get burned.” His gaze bore down on her, squelching any protest. Burned? Felt as if she already was.

He neared to help set the table. “You need to trust me.”

She whirled. “About my arm? Or Caleb?”

A muscle clicked in his jaw. “Both.”

“I’m sorry, Ian. I hate not knowing if he’ll be okay and I hate being in the humbling position of needing help.” Bri clenched her teeth against urges to confront more about Caleb.

Both men being tight-lipped could mean Caleb was about to embark on a mission of danger she’d be better off oblivious to. “FYI, Tia also acquired your rude penchant toward ignoring, hedging and projecting in order to protect your secrets.”

Tia “hung up” her play phone and skipped into the kitchen, unaware of her dad’s gaping mouth. Well, what did he expect? He’d been harsh with his words and truth, too.

They sat at the big, rustic wood table that had been Mom’s. Despite the tension, dinner started out light and fun and lively but ended subdued with Ian growing more withdrawn and sullen. So much so, Bri jumped when her wall screeched like a pterodactyl.

Humor hit Ian’s eyes as he studied her, then the bird clock above the fireplace mantel that held copious pictures of Caleb.

“Stupid clock. It’s too loud. Caleb got it for me for Christmas last year as a source of torment. I can’t get rid of the obnoxious thing, because despite its screeching bird sounds, it’s sentimental.”

Ian almost smiled. “Hard to believe Christmas is three days away. What are your plans?”

She shrugged. “Probably eat a frozen turkey dinner and watch Hallmark movies.”

“I’ve had no time for TV lately.”

His eyes veered toward Tia, their color deepening to a dark blue, like a stormy sky. “A teen girl almost perished last night. She looked like I’d imagine Tia will in ten years. Identical hair, down to the natural ringlet curls.”

“I bet that was hard,” Bri said.

The vulnerable look entering his eyes next caught her completely off guard. He rose and brushed aside Bri’s ruffled maroon curtains. Thoughtfully eyed the main lodge through Bri’s big side window. “Do you have plans for the big lodge?”

She joined him at the window. “Yeah. Mom’s dreams.”

He faced her, his expression softening to a point that she had to look away. She felt too vulnerable otherwise. “Mom would hold sewing, cooking and quilting classes for her church ladies. She wanted to open it up to the community. She died before her dreams came true.” Bri shrugged the chill away.

Ian eyed her shoulders, then moved toward her but stopped.

Had he been about to come behind her and rub her arms?

“I have an idea, if you want to hear it,” he said.

Bri laughed. “Since when do you ever ask permission to share your opinion or waylay anyone daring to disagree with it?”

He smirked. “Point taken. The accident was fatal for two other teens. Alcohol was a factor. That lodge would be a very cool hangout for teens. You should consider letting me and Mitch fix it up as such once he gets some time.”

“It would give them something safe to do. There’s a big area downstairs that would be perfect for pool tables, a digital arcade, even laser tag. I could use the upstairs rooms for corporate events and meetings.”

“And those classes your mom started.” Ian smiled kindly.

“It’s a great idea, Ian. But I’d be remiss to let you and Mitch do it. You’re already renovating my cabins. I saw where you’d cleared the ivy away and replaced the gutters. Thanks.”

He nodded. “You’re helping me in a big way, too. With Tia.”

Bri peered once more at the lodge. Longing took root. “I’d hate to infringe on your time like that.”

“There’s nothing more important to me than saving lives, Bri.” He cast a glance over at Tia. “She’ll be a teen someday.”

Bri caught the fear in his words. “Trust God, Ian.”

He faced her. “I did. Once. My marriage crumbled, anyway. I lost my wife long before the divorce, Bri. She bailed when I gave my life to God and she didn’t want to.”

“I’m sorry, Ian. That must have been hard—”

“Boom wants in on the sherbet,” Tia announced loudly from the puppet box she’d dived into after dinner.

Ian approached and picked up a fox puppet. “Tell Boom if he can eat sherbet, he can help clean Tia’s room.”

Tia’s face popped out of the puppet stage curtain. She pointed sideways. “He’s right here.” Tia glared at her dad. “Tell him yourself, Mister Meanie Fox who takes baby rabbits away from their mothers.”

Tia wore bunny ears and a matching cottontail.

Ian’s jaw clenched.

Bri didn’t miss the pain Tia’s words had lashed across his eyes. Bri tensed like a witness to a car wreck.

Flashes of Eric’s rage at his nephew spilling a shake in his Corvette came to mind. Then how her ex had railed her all the way to the car wash for “stupidly inviting the kid along.”

But Ian didn’t blow. He calmly pulled the fox puppet off his arm. Set it in the box. Knelt face-to-face with his daughter. Love never left his eyes. “Tia, I know it’s hard when things change and we don’t want them to. But that doesn’t mean we can leave someone’s home a mess.”

“Ours could sparkle clean and it would still be a mess. You don’t do anything right. Not bedtime stories or bath time or eggs or Christmastime or nothing! Especially your icky eggs! And your animal pancakes are stupid! They don’t look like air force aardvark fairies at all!”

“Aardvark fairies?” Bri blurted before she could think.

“Yes. They fly in and eat all the bugs.” She glared again at Ian. “He has ants in his house and I hate living there. We don’t even have a tree or cookies and Santa is coming in—” Rant paused, she counted on her fingers and gasped. “Three days!”

Ian looked about to scold Tia for speaking disrespectfully, but his cell phone rang. He viewed the screen. Relief hit his face.

“Excuse me.” He carried plates to the sink with one hand and answered his call with the other. He went to Bri’s deck to speak, eyes flitting her way through a window.

Bri put leftovers away. “Tia, let’s get toys picked up.”

“Can you go to Sully’s with us?” Tia asked as they worked.

“Um, well...” She didn’t want to barge in on daddy-daughter time. Plus, her arm was really hurting.

Tia grabbed Bri’s good hand and squeezed. “Please?”

Ugh. She was a heartbreaker, this kid. Bri eyed Ian, who walked in with a neutral expression. Too neutral. “Was that Caleb?” Bri pegged.

“Yes. He’s fine. Said to tell you he loves you but not to call. He’ll be out of range for three weeks. He’ll call you—and me—when he’s back at base.”

She gritted her teeth, and felt as if she was the only one not in on the full conversation.

Bri fought hurt that Caleb didn’t speak to her and that Ian didn’t encourage him to. Why? Was Ian as thoughtless as Eric? Or was Caleb imminently marching into more serious combat danger?

“Miss Bri’s going to Sully’s with us,” Tia announced.

Bri stiffened, ready for Ian’s explosion. Eric never liked when his pals had included Bri in their get-togethers.

The only thing that ignited on Ian’s face was a smile. “Awesome. Tia, did you and Boom pick toys up?” Ian went to check the play area behind Bri’s burgundy-and-blue-striped couch, leaving Bri to wonder why she tended to compare the two men.

It wasn’t as if she was interested in Ian. She was simply becoming involved in his life because she was babysitting Tia. That was all.

Bri’s unease had nothing to do with how handsome his jet-black hair looked in a fresh buzz. Or how his broad chest filled out a black leather jacket.

Nothing at all.

Chapter Three

Nothing at all was wrong with his heart. So why Ian’s pulse skipped upon sight of a tall blonde jogging the lakeside trail ahead on his run the next morning, he had no idea. Especially since she resembled Bri. Platinum ponytail brushing her back with each athletic footfall, white wisps fluttering in the breeze, easy as her one-armed stride.

Wait. One arm? He sped up. Looked closer.

That was Bri.

Instant annoyance hit that he’d taken a second look.

“Hey, Crash!” he called so he wouldn’t startle her by just running up next to her. “Cool the turbojets.”

She turned and nearly tripped over a rut. Alarm sliced through him. He reached to steady her as they slowed. “Close call.” He eyed the hot-pink cast that had given her away.

“Not as close as the goose who nearly took me out.”

“It is called Gosling Way,” he teased, referring to the walk-run trail adjacent to Duckshore Drive, which circled the water and led to Lakeview Road. It connected the trauma center and Landis Lodge to a residential area around Eagle Point Lake, where he and Mitch had homes built while overseas and planning this trauma center amid what felt like a million combat surgeries.

Bri’s cheeks were red and her breathing labored enough he knew she’d been running awhile. “Where’s T?” she huffed.

“Tia’s still sleeping. Kate’s watching her in the doctor’s lounge for me.”

Bri looked at him sharply. “At the trauma center?”

“Since I don’t have a call room in my home, yes.”

Bri veered off on the Gosling Way trail that led to Eagle Point Lake’s pavilion behind EPTC. Ian followed, sensing she had something to say. Once she caught her breath, she pulled the lone iPod plug from her ear. That she only wore one and let the other dangle told him she was a serious runner, same as him.

“Still planning on the Library marathon?”

She nodded, and swigged water. “Yeah. You?”

“Yes. I’d be in trouble otherwise.”

“That’s right. I heard you helped Lauren’s grandpa Lem organize it to fundraise for community projects.”

“How’d you hear that?” He propped a foot on a concrete picnic table beneath the covered pavilion. It needed a new coat of paint. But like everything else in Eagle Point, money was tight, so upkeep of public parks suffered. Ian aimed to change that. If he was raising Tia here, he wanted it to thrive.

He realized Bri never answered. He leaned in.

She nibbled her lip. “Kate and Lauren organized a prayer and praise gathering here on Tuesday nights. They named it PRAYZ.” Bri drew a fortifying breath, as if afraid to say the rest. “Mitch comes. He requests prayers for you and the trauma center a lot. He wants your fundraising efforts to succeed.”

He eyed his watch. “I should get back. Tia will be waking soon.” He turned back. “Be careful with your—”

“Arm. I know.” She fell into step beside him, but for some reason all he wanted to do was get away. From her and the weird way it made him feel for people to air his personal life in public. And who prayed at a lake, anyway? Mitch, of course. Yet, he knew Mitch and his prayers were why Ian had made it through his divorce and deployments intact. He sighed. “Thanks for...never mind.”

He wasn’t convinced yet the prayers were working.

“Did you get called in again last night, Ian? You seem...”

“Beastly?” he bit out. Held her gaze and didn’t dare let his face soften. “Yeah. Saturday nights are almost as bad as Friday with drunken accidents and parties. No one died, though.”

“That’s good.”

“That’s debatable.”

She paused. “That means...?”

“The dad of the girl we saved is a private investigator. He checked around and found the guy who supplied the kids with alcohol. The P.I. first threw punches, then threw the guy out a second-story window. Now he’s in jail.” Ian smirked. “The offender who supplied underage kids with alcohol is in neck-to-ankle traction.”

“Was that before or after EMS brought him in to you?”

Ian laughed, surprised by her humor. “Before.”

She sighed. “We really need to get that teen hangout going. After the cabins, of course. And you really need to let me come to your house and watch Tia when you get called in.”

At the trauma center lot now, he checked his phone. Kate hadn’t texted. He motioned Bri toward the lodge. “I’ll walk you home and work on renovations until Kate texts me Tia’s awake.”

“Think about what I said, Ian. Your house is a four-minute jog from mine. But I can make it in two.” She blushed. “I timed that route this morning. You have a beautiful place.”

“You will, too, once the lodges are fixed up. You did a nice job with your personal cabin.” Ian walked her to her door. “I’ll be back with my truck in a bit.”

He really wanted to run another lake lap, but that would take time he needed to get crackin’ on Bri’s second cabin.

He finished replacing windows when Kate called. “She awake?”

“Yes, but I need to borrow her for a few hours.”

“Okay, what—”

“None of your beeswax. Christmas secrets.”

“That’ll give me time to get Tia’s gift, too.”

Kate scoffed. “You ruin everything, you big brute.”

“I’ll pretend to be surprised.” A terrible feeling went through him. “Kate, don’t be disheartened if, when you bring the whole buy-Daddy-a-present-thing up, Tia doesn’t want to get me anything. She’s still resentful and angry over her life being turned upside down. Right now, she considers me the enemy.”

“Take heart, Ian,” Kate said in childproof tones. “Tia is the one who brought it up. This was her idea. She asked me to take her.”

Emotion throbbed behind Ian’s eyes, and it took a second to compose himself. “Thanks, Kate.” He hung up and turned.

Bri stood in her patchy yard with iced teas and a curious expression. He dipped his head so she wouldn’t see evidence that he really wasn’t all that strong. Aerosmith riffs blasted his phone again. Kate’s camouflage monkey avatar lit the screen.

Had Tia changed her mind? Decided to give him nothing for Christmas except a hard time? He swiped the phone face. “Hey, Kate.”

“Hey. Bri nearby?”

“Yeah, need to speak with her?”

“No. Walk nonchalantly away, out of her hearing range.”

Kate never lost her military leader bossiness. Ever. “Okay, what’s up?”

“At PRAYZ the other night, Bri casually mentioned not being able to shop and decorate her place for Christmas because of her arm. I think facing this first holiday without her mom has given her a case of the winter blues. She could use some holiday cheer. Take care of that for me? Like, today?”

“Sure.” The sad thought dawned on Ian that, if someone didn’t intervene, Bri would be spending Christmas all alone. “You planning on taking Lem up on his invitation to come over and join him, Lauren, Mitch and a bunch of the pararescue jumpers for Christmas Eve dinner?”

“Yeah. You’re not bailing on him, right?”

“No, actually, he’d mentioned to bring a friend if we wanted, that he’d have enough food to feed an army. Maybe we should invite Bri.” Meaning maybe Kate would take it from here.

“Great idea, Ian. Let me know what she says when you ask.”

“Wait—”

“Gotta run. Take your time shopping with Bri and have fun.” She clicked off before he could formulate a coherent response.

The way Kate urged him to take his time, Ian got the distinct impression she was matchmaking him and Bri. He needed to disabuse her of that crazy notion.

Ian sighed at Bri’s ramshackle cabins. If he was doing one a week, he needed help. “Time for backup,” he told the curious woodland creature watching from a barren branch. The squirrel skittered up the tree. Ian smiled at Tia’s depiction of trees that lose their leaves, aka pajamas, according to Tia—pj’s!

Ian instantly thought of renovation recruits. A human PJ, though, not the cotton variety. “We’re calling in air support,” he informed the sniffing, bushy-tailed squirrel. “That bank doesn’t stand a chance of leveling your home, little buddy.”

He dialed Brockton Drake, the only unmarried holdout on a pararescue jumper—aka PJ—team stationed at Eagle Point Air Base near Refuge, a town away. The special operations skydiving paramedics helped at the trauma center sometimes to keep their medic skills up between combat and civilian rescues. Brock always told Ian to call if he needed anything. Today, he did. “Hey, Brock. What are you doing today?” Ian asked the hardworking air force PJ.

* * *

Whose pretty red truck is that? Bri watched it rumble past her cabin and park near the one Ian hammered on. Pausing her organizing of books for Lem’s annual library fundraiser, she stepped onto her deck to see.

A strapping redheaded man with a bright smile and true military bearing exited the cab with construction supplies. Ian greeted him and together they unloaded wood from the truck bed.

Bri fought the urge to rush out and apologize for her shabby cabin. Yet the way the two men bantered back and forth, ribbing good-naturedly while working, suggested they didn’t consider helping her an inconvenience. Ian laughed. It was such a rare occurrence, Bri smiled. She felt bad he was strapped to her cabin today when she wasn’t watching Tia. Kate had volunteered to take her for a few hours of shopping.

The last time she’d asked Eric downstate to help her mom with the lodge so it wouldn’t have to close, he’d scoffed. Told her he didn’t have time for something so trivial.

The month away from him had made Bri see she’d be better off without him. He’d brainwashed her to believe she couldn’t find a better guy. She stared at Ian. Was he a manipulator with moodiness, too? Bri rubbed the chill off her arms. Best get busy inside.

While the guys worked, Bri continued sorting mass amounts of books for Lem’s annual library benefit. She had a hard time not cracking a book open and indulging.

Too tempted by the books, and sleepy from insomnia over worrying about Caleb, she set about sewing new curtains for each of the cabins. Seven cabins’ worth later, a knock sounded at her door.

Ian and his pal stood on her landing.

“Hi, come on in. I was about to make lunch and bring you refreshments.”

“I bragged on your tea,” Ian said. “This is Brock, a buddy of mine from the Refuge side of Eagle Point Air Base.”

“Nice to meet you, Brock.” She shook his hand. “I’m Bri.”

His dimples deepened as he smiled. “Ma’am.” He eyed the floor. “Whoa. That’s an avalanche of books.” He bent down to peer at the titles. “Who reads all these?”

“I do. Ever since I was little, I’ve had an obsession with reading.”

Ian poured tea in the two glasses she’d set down on the kitchen counter. He grabbed a third glass and filled it, too. “Join us on the deck?”

He handed her the glass and gestured. “Ladies first.”

“Nice place,” Brock commented, eyes gazing over the land.

“You should see it fixed up.” Bri settled in the farthest seat across from Ian at the outdoor table.

“I will soon,” Brock said, then passed Ian a look she couldn’t decode.

Ian captured Bri’s gaze. “You mentioned the bank’s mandate to have seven financially stable renters by Valentine’s Day. Pararescuemen on Brock’s team are partnering with local first responders in rope rescue and other advanced training and conducting survival classes.” He gestured behind her. “Those steep, silvery bluffs, deep lake, woodland terrain, caves and overgrown forests would make great training ground.”

Brock leaned in. “Your cabins would be a great time-saver and give us a base close to the training area. I talked to my C.O., and Petrowski said to get info from you about renting a couple units. He said to tell you he’d be happy to send more recruits out to expedite the renovation process, if that would help.”

Tears burned behind Bri’s eyes. Relief, yes, but she hated embarrassing thoughts that two entire towns, Refuge and Eagle Point, plus an entire elite force of special ops airmen were conducting a conspiracy of kindness to help save her lodge. Because people in close-knit communities were like that.

Bri knew of the PJs. She’d had no idea Brock was one, but the way he carried himself—now she could see it. The PJs were famous in these parts and abroad. Esteemed and well respected. Honest. Superhero strong. Brave. Benevolent. A noble breed of valiant, honorable men who’d stand by their word or die. Men of integrity. Like Mitch, and—despite his brooding—Ian.

If she agreed to this, that meant three cabins had renters. Hers, and the two Brock inquired about. Yet, she wasn’t paying. She needed to figure out how to generate more income. Kate had hinted about renting one of her cabins, but hadn’t mentioned it since.

She must’ve been silent too long. Brock stood. “Think about it, ma’am. Get back to me, or Ian, whenever you’ve had a chance to come up with numbers. Money’s not an issue for us, so charge what’s comfortable for you.”

She nodded, realizing with cautiously optimistic hope that, if things panned out right, renting the two cabins could both appease the bank and generate income to renovate the rest. Her money was quickly running out. She walked with Ian to accompany Brock to his truck despite Ian’s hard face and formidable air.

Bri waved to Brock as he left. “Hope my silence didn’t run him off.”

“No, he told me earlier he had to get ready for HALOs tonight.” Face still cast in a brooding light, Ian walked back to her deck and grabbed their glasses. He was so subdued she was compelled to help him thaw. Talk to him.

“HALOs?” She opened the kitchen door and they stepped in.

He met her attempts at conversation with a dark, pensive stare. It created such an atmosphere of danger, she took a step back. That snapped him out of it and seemed to alert him that he’d emanated a threatening impression.

He set the glasses in her sink and washed them. “High altitude, low opening. It’s a special nighttime parachute jump from so high up, they have to have oxygen.”

“Oxygen?” Her neck craned. “Nighttime?”

Ian grinned. “Yeah. Total blast.”

“Maybe for you.” She laughed cautiously, contemplating the thrill of free-falling. “I’d like to skydive someday. The normal way,” she quickly tacked on. “When oxygen isn’t required.”

He brushed a finger along her arm. “After this heals, I’ll take you. We could tandem jump until you feel safe to solo.”

Right now, solo was the only thing that felt safe.

“At your own risk. I’m liable to blow out your eardrums.”

Ian laughed. “Brock’s team leader, Joel’s wife, almost did the first time he took her.” His grin faded, face pinched. “Not...that you’re my wife—just—Caleb told me how adventurous you are.”

“Told? Or warned?” She quirked an eyebrow at him, dried the glasses that had been Mom’s and put them away, yet not memories of them standing at the lodge sink chattering over them. Lord, I miss her so much. Poor Tia. She had to miss hers, too. Chest tight, Bri drew a shaky breath.

Ian paused. Eyes went into assessment mode. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Christmas was Mom’s favorite holiday is all.”

“Hard.” He brushed his thumb and forearm on her shoulder. While it was meant to be a touch of comfort, it left her skin feeling tingly.

“Speaking of Christmas, I wanted to take you shopping today. I figured we could pick up some decorations and gifts. Grab a quick lunch here first and eat dinner while we’re out?”

The thought of having holiday decorations ignited joy. The thought of having dinner with Ian made Bri cautious. Yet a sliver of excitement she didn’t want to acknowledge grew within her. “I’d love that. Thank you, Ian.”

He scratched his jaw and shifted from foot to foot. “Also, I was wondering if you’d like to join a few of us at Lem’s for a Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow. Kate, Mitch and Lauren will be there, too. Plus Lem and Tia. We’d love to have you join us.”

She sighed. Despite feeling like a pity case, Bri’s former dread of spending Christmas alone and without Mom fled. “I heard Lem’s Southern cooking is superb. If you’re sure it’s all right and that I won’t be intruding, I’d love to go.”

His face flashed with some undetectable emotion when she’d agreed to go. Was Ian happy she’d be going, or disappointed? She still found it difficult to read men’s thoughts, because of her ex-boyfriend’s changeable personality.

“Good. I’ll pick you up at four since you can’t drive yet.” He walked over to the neatly stacked books. Then eyed the not-so-neat stack. “These for Lem’s library fund and run?”

“Read-n-run.” She giggled. “Yes.

“Need me to help you get them to Lem’s place?”

“No, I—”

“Can’t drive for six weeks. Let me rephrase—you hold open the door. I’ll load these books into those plastic bins and we’ll drop them off at the library on the way to the toy store.”

She ground her teeth together. Resisted the temptation to inform him he was bossier than Kate. “Okay.” While he loaded, she made pita sandwiches, which they ate before driving to town.

Partway through their excursion at Tinker’s Toy Store in downtown Eagle Point, Bri indicated a fairy costume Ian held up with a raised brow. “Yes. Tia will love that.”

“I hope so.” Ian set the boxed dress-up ensemble in the cart and sighed dauntingly at the rows of other toys. “Did she happen to mention to you anything she’d like for Christmas?” He stuffed hands in his pockets. “I asked her, but she said the only thing she wants for Christmas is her mom.” Ian’s voice pinched.

Bri put a camouflage monkey in the cart. “For Kate.”

Ian met Bri’s gaze, and grinned like a slow dawn. “I never would have guessed. She’s obsessed with those things.”

Bri cleared her throat and kept stride with Ian as he pushed the screechy cart. “Tia did mention a couple of things she wanted.”

The squeaking wheels silenced as Ian paused the cart.

“She mentioned wanting a pet. Specifically a yellow dog, but if she can’t have that, she’d settle for a fish named Jonah.”

Ian’s hands tightened around the cart. She tensed. “I’m frustrated she told you and not me.”

“So, you’d consider a dog?”

“No. We don’t have time to give it proper care and attention. The fish, however, is doable. If I can find a place to get one. I’ve been too busy to scout the town.”

“That’s partly my fault. And there’s a pet store down the road.” Bri pursed her lips. “I’ll show you after we leave here.”

Ian faced her. “Didn’t mean to make you feel like a burden. Sometimes I don’t think before I speak.”

Sometimes? Bri bit her tongue from saying it. She needed to cool her jets and keep the peace. “I’m gonna look around.”

Ian became subdued again “Fine. See you at checkout.”

Fine? Like she needed his permission to shop. Ian was seeming more like domineering Eric every day. It was going to be tough to work as his babysitter, but she’d do it for Tia’s sake, and for saving the lodge’s sake.

Bri found a set of fairy books for Tia for Christmas and a gift card for Caleb, so he could load apps and games into his phone. Despite her anger, Bri added a second digital card for Ian when he wasn’t at the checkout lanes. Where had he gone?

Two customers away from the cash register, Bri tried to open her wallet one handed. Couldn’t. A strong hand pressed it back into her purse. She looked up. Ian stood behind her. He crammed a fistful of bills into her handbag. “What’s that?”

“An advance on your paycheck.”

Anger flashed. “I don’t need your charity.” She didn’t want to make a scene, so she paid using his cash. Her fingers trembled, and her insides quivered as if they’d been set to broil. Someone as distinguished and well-off as Ian couldn’t possibly understand why accepting handouts was so hard.

But she was about to let him have it.

Chapter Four

Ian’s peripheral vision caught some motion happening at his car in the Tinker’s Toys lot.

He turned around to see Bri whirling at him.

“Why did you do that?” Angry hurt flashed from her eyes.

Mind blank, he blinked. “Do what?”

She slammed her shopping bags into his open trunk. “Make people think I’m poor! Everyone saw the horrible thing you did!”

Was she kidding? What woman in her right mind would call two hundred free bucks horrible?

Ian couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing.

That did not go over well. Fists balled and lips clenched, she got nose-to-chin with him. Few women could do that with his six-foot-four frame. She hissed through her teeth.

He partially turned, calmly dug the keys from his pocket and eyed her.

“I didn’t know you had anger issues.”

She shook her head. Threw the passenger door of his truck open and flung herself inside. “I don’t have anger issues.” She jabbed toward the street. “And the pet shop is that way.”

“I didn’t say you did. I’d like to know why you have a problem with people helping you. Had I known you’d be embarrassed, I’d have been more clandestine and considerate. I’m sorry.”

Her shoulders relaxed, face calmed. “Unless you’re up to your eyeballs in debt, I can see by the fact you have two new cars and a half-million-dollar home on the lake that money’s not an issue. So it would probably be hard for you to understand.”

No debt. Just good money management, disciplined spending habits, wise investing and savings. “Try me.” He followed the road she pointed to, where the pet shop must be.

“I have a tough time accepting help and handouts because it reminds me too much of Mom having to scrounge for food, clothes and shelter after Dad left us destitute.”

“Caleb mentioned your dad left you guys. I’m sorry, Bri.”

“Why? You’re not the woman who lured him away, then left him to rot in a nursing home alone. Never mind. End of subject.”

They drove several blocks in silence. Ian tried to forget her vanilla perfume infiltrating the car and concentrated on the quaint town’s bright and cozy Christmas village-style decor.

Green wreaths with regal red bows adorned the lampposts that lined both sidewalks. A pristine army of iridescent angel figurines blew trumpets along the median on Eagle’s Way, the main street running through the center of town.

Starlit decorations were tacked above every street sign. Strings of lights draped nearly every shop. Ian bet this was beautiful to drive through at night. He needed to bring Tia to see it.

“Still up for being my tour guide?” He eyed Bri’s arm in a doctorly fashion. But he was really assessing her mood. At this point, her fidgeting gave the impression she was more embarrassed at her outburst than angry at him.

He bit back a smile when he realized she’d kept the change.

“Sure. We’ll get Tia’s fish on the way out of town. Go there.” Bri indicated the far end of Eagle’s Way. His car jostled over parts of it that were still cobblestoned, causing Bri to cradle her arm. He slowed.

She pointed to an eclectic-looking shop. A sleek purple building with black-light effects. “That’s On the Edge. It’s an art and florist shop, plus interior design. She’s in competition with the woman across the street whose business is sewing, home decor and custom drapes.” Bri pointed to the establishment named Fringe. He slowed the car, taking the town in.

“The women are archenemies and their brawls are just about the most excitement we have in town. The cops go there regularly, but I suspect it’s mostly because the coffee shop next to Fringe has better donuts than Dee-Dee’s Donuts beside the police station.”

Ian chuckled. Mitch had been right to tell him this town was a perfect place to raise a child. Yet the number of closed shops concerned him. He knew the town’s lifeblood could hinge on whether Bri’s lodge reopened and thrived, and whether they were able to expand the trauma center and thus provide local jobs.

Next Bri indicated a brick-style brownstone turned into a storefront. “That’s MeadowLark Laundry, owned by twin siblings, Meadow and Lark. They’re two of the few people our age in town. But Meadow’s away at college right now and Lark’s in some kind of skip-tracer school. He’s a P.I. on the side.”

“Hey, that’s my neighbor’s shop.” Ian indicated the LOLZ sign. Ellie told him she had an internet coffee shop catering to young people but he hadn’t seen it yet. “She mentioned part of her business proceeds go toward cancer research and anti-text-and-drive ads.”

“I remember the conversation you had with her about chemo when Tia wandered to her home. I hope Ellie’s going to be okay.”

“Me, too. She’s raising a granddaughter named Mara.” He cleared his throat. “She was in a tragic accident earlier this year while trying to save a classmate. Long story, but that’s why Ellie moved here.”

“Beside Fringe is Gulpie’s Gas. Only station in town. Used to be called Not Your Mother’s Guzzler. At the other end of town is EMS, police, city hall and the fire department. Lem’s library is there, too. I’d like to take Tia once I can drive again.”

“Tia loves to read. Much like you,” Ian said.

She brushed a stray hair behind her ear and nodded ahead to the town square, really a circle. “You know Sully’s, obviously, since we went there the other night.”

He remembered. Unfortunately he also remembered the ache that gripped him to see Tia interacting with a mother figure.

“Next to that is Dulce Jo’s Nook, a Victorian coffee shop and bookstore. Then, above the bank is an upscale restaurant called Golden Terrace.”

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