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  “Thank you,” Kyle signed to Mya. “T?” His mind blanked so he wiggled his fingers then shrugged.

  Mya took his hand, tucking his thumb into place before stepping back to nod. “’Kay?”

  Kyle studied his hand, doing his best to mentally file what he’d learned for later use. “Okay.” For a first attempt, it wasn’t so bad. Mya was happy. So happy she climbed into his lap and leaned back against him, giggling when Jet decided to give her a thorough head-to-toe sniffing.

  He stared down at the top of Mya’s head, doing his best to ignore the memories and emotions crowding in on him. He was back home. He was safe. Mya and Brynn, Greer and Skylar were safe. From bombs and attacks anyway. He drew in a deep breath. Some things were best left in the past. Locked up, tight.

  Right now, his mission was getting Skylar to agree to have dinner with him. He wouldn’t get all of his questions answered, but he might get some. As it was, he was struggling with the idea of leaving Chad’s family here. Chad. He owed it to him to do right by Skylar and the girls. Now all he needed was to figure what, exactly, that meant.

  Chapter Three

  Skylar poured cereal into the girls’ bowls and added milk, smoothing Mya’s hair.

  “Is Jet coming?” Brynn asked, scooping up some cereal. “We can play ball.”

  “Kyle said they’d come see us before they left.” Skylar shot a glance at her uncle’s closed bedroom door. After his meltdown last night, it was probably best if he stayed in his room.

  Once he’d heard she was going out for dinner, he’d immediately started complaining about the expense and the hassle and how he was too tired to go out. When she’d explained she and the girls were going with Kyle, he’d blown up. Not only had he called her ungrateful and selfish, he’d dared to suggest that she was willing to do whatever it took to get Kyle Mitchell to take them with him when he left. Of course, he’d followed that up with an assurance that no man wanted to take on three kids to raise—and she was kidding herself if she thought anything different.

  Skylar had done her best to let his nastiness roll off her back. She’d changed Greer, packed a few things into Greer’s diaper bag, and left. She’d heard thumps and yells all the way to Kyle’s waiting truck—he probably had, too—but it hadn’t stopped her.

  She wanted to go. For the first time in... Well, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d done something she wanted to do.

  But by the time Kyle had moved all the car seats into his truck, corralled the girls while she’d changed Greer’s diaper again, and endured Brynn’s made-up nonsense songs for most of the drive into town, she suspected he was regretting his invitation.

  Or not. She hoped not.

  It had been a long time since she’d had a dinner she hadn’t cooked. It had been even longer since she’d had a conversation with another adult. An actual conversation. Chad had been right—Kyle was easy to talk to.

  For her, last night had been like a minivacation. It was amazing how much easier dinner was when she had help with the girls. She’d even managed to eat while her food was still warm. When they got back home, she’d ushered the girls straight to their trailer—before Kyle was able to get a glimpse into the space she shared with her girls. They’d managed to avoid talking about Frank or the uncomfortable conversation he’d walked in on so, silly or not, she’d wanted to end the evening on a high note.

  And it had.

  Until she was in bed, tossing and turning and worrying about what would happen when Kyle left...with Jet. The girls would be devastated. It wouldn’t matter that she’d told them, over and over, that Kyle and Jet were leaving. It was going to hurt. All of them.

  Enjoy the time you have. That’s what her mother would have said. Good advice for a soldier’s wife. But not an easy concept for four-year-olds.

  She glanced at the clock for the fiftieth time this morning. For as much as she dreaded their leaving, she couldn’t wait for them to get there. She liked Kyle. Liked spending time with him. When the roar of an engine and crunch of rubber on gravel finally announced Kyle’s arrival, she was smiling just like her girls.

  Mya turned in her chair to peer out the window, then clapped her hands. “Jeh.”

  Skylar smiled. The girls were excited over the dog. She was excited about Kyle. After her uncle Frank’s tirade, there was a flair of panic. Was that okay? To be excited over Kyle Mitchell? Or maybe it wasn’t about him? Maybe she was just excited about having someone to talk to? Kyle was knocking on the door before she’d figured out the answer. But the questions lingered—so did the odd mixture of exhilaration and dread and anticipation she’d woken up with.

  He is leaving. She reminded herself. Today. As nice as his visit had been, he’d leave and life would return to normal. Enjoy the time we have. What else could she do?

  “Kyle?” Brynn asked, slipping from her seat to run to the door.

  “Hold on, Brynn.” Skylar stopped her daughter then shook her head. Really, who else would it be?

  Brynn stopped in front of the screen door and waved at Kyle. “Hi.” She rocked back and forth on her feet. “Momma said wait,” she explained.

  Skylar was laughing when she opened the door. “Morning.”

  “Good morning.” Kyle’s jaw was covered in stubble, his eyes a little puffy...but he still managed to be alarmingly attractive in his tan cowboy hat.

  “Rough night?” she asked, stepping aside.

  “I don’t sleep much. Dreams...” He shrugged. “I’m good.”

  She didn’t push. “How about some coffee?”

  “Is it a good idea?” He didn’t move. “Jet and I can hang out here.”

  Because of her uncle. “Okay.” She swallowed. “The coffee offer still stands.”

  He nodded, his gaze meeting hers. “I’ll take it.”

  That was all it took to get her answer. Him. She was excited to see him. Oh. And now that she knew that, there was no stopping the surge of heat to her cheeks.

  “Where’s Jet?” Brynn asked, stooping to see between Kyle’s legs.

  “He’s here.” Kyle nodded, smiling down at her. “Ready for a game of fetch—even has his ball.”

  “Can I play with Jet, Momma?” Brynn pleaded.

  “Let me get Greer cleaned up and we’ll all go out. Okay?” Skylar saw Brynn’s shoulders droop a little.

  “I don’t mind,” Kyle whispered, his hand warm against her arm.

  “You and Mya go on with Kyle. I’ll be right out.” Hopefully, he hadn’t heard the slight waver to her voice.

  “Thank you, Momma.” Brynn raced to the table. “Mya.” She grabbed her sister’s hand and tugged, waiting impatiently for her twin to climb down from her chair. They giggled all the way out the front door.

  “I’ll hurry,” Skylar said.

  Kyle gave her a little salute. “It’s fine. They’re good girls. I can keep them in line.” He followed her girls down the metal walkway and into the yard.

  Skylar lingered in the open doorway long enough to see Jet and the girls’ reunion. All the bouncing and laughing made Skylar happy. Really happy. They needed more of this—all of them. Laughter and joy and playtime... Someday. It was a promise to herself and the girls.

  She filled a plastic travel mug with coffee before she retrieved Greer from her high chair, changed her diaper, and carried the baby and Kyle’s coffee outside.

  Skylar always knew the instant Greer saw her sisters. Her little legs started kicking and her arms bounced. To Greer, there was no better form of entertainment than watching her sisters. “They are lots of fun,” Skylar agreed, holding on to one of Greer’s hands. “You’ll be running after them in no time.”

  “Thank you.” Kyle took the coffee. “I’m not sure who’s wearing who out? The girls or Jet?”

  “He should sleep on the trip home.” She glanced his way. “What time are you thinking of hea
ding out?”

  He took a sip of his coffee. “No rush.”

  Which made her happier than she should be. The longer he stayed, the harder the goodbyes would get. As much as she wanted him to stay—Wait. I want him to stay?

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded, her gaze pinned on the girls. While Brynn was handing the ball to Mya to throw, she was doing her best to calm herself down.

  Kyle was a friend. She didn’t have many of those. People had friends; it was natural—human even. There was nothing wrong with her and Kyle becoming friends. The man had been Chad’s best friend, after all. Kyle was here because of the near brotherhood that he and Chad’s friendship had forged. How many times had Chad told her about Kyle going above and beyond in the name of friendship? He was true-blue, Chad’s go-to, someone he’d counted on to get things done.

  Why was she letting Frank twist friendship into something...else? Something sordid.

  She was a widow. With three children. And nothing to offer. Her uncle was right about all of that. But she would never use her body to get what she wanted. That her uncle, of all people, could suggest such a thing was both horrifying and infuriating. Then again, that was what Uncle Frank always did: agitate. He was very good at it.

  She sighed.

  “Skylar?” Kyle asked, turning to face her, his eyes on the travel mug he held. “I have a question.” He looked at her then.

  She nodded, meeting his gaze—and ignoring the odd tightening at the base of her stomach. “Did you want milk? Or sugar?”

  “No. The coffee is good.” He shook his head. “I know of a job. I mean, our local veterinarian was looking for a new tech not too long ago.” A now useful bit of information his mother had relayed in one of her regular letters. “Plus, we’re looking for someone to help out with the dogs and the cattle and such. At my family’s ranch. We raise cattle and my brother is part of a nonprofit that helps place retired or discharged service dogs with families. Lots of animals.”

  Skylar blinked, her gaze falling from his as the tightening at the base of her stomach gave way to something cold and hollow. “What?” Frank’s words from last night echoed in her mind. The sad state of Chad’s widow, needing a handout.

  He cleared his throat. With the sun beaming down, his eyes were momentarily distracting. His blue eye was brilliant under the wide Texas sky. The other was a deep copper. Both lovely. “A job,” Kyle went on. “There’s a cabin on the property. I think it’s only two bedrooms but it might work, for now.” She didn’t miss his quick glance at the trailer or the way his jaw muscle tensed.

  She swallowed. “No, thank you.” Needing a handout...

  He recovered, but not before she’d seen his mouth fall open and his brows climb into his hairline. “No? You don’t want to think about it?”

  She shook her head.

  “Can I ask why?” The words were gruff.

  “I could ask you the same thing.” She glanced at him. “You don’t know anything about my qualifications or my experience. Why offer me this job?” Because he would go above and beyond to get things done, like honoring his word to Chad.

  His jaw was clenched hard now.

  “I know you mean well, Kyle, but you don’t know me.” She cleared her throat. The sad state of Chad’s widow, needing a handout. She wasn’t sure what bothered her more: that Uncle Frank was right or that Kyle Mitchell saw her that way. Sad. Pathetic. Needy. Maybe she should be mad at herself for believing someone would see her in any other light. Whatever the reason, she was mad. And...hurt. “It’s important that I make my way—without a handout or sponging off someone’s pity.”

  “Skylar, hold on.” He held his hand up, stepping closer.

  “You’ve honored your promise to Chad, and I thank you for it. I think it’s best if you leave now.”

  He was staring at her, struggling with what to say next.

  She stared right back, daring him to contradict what she’d said but knowing he couldn’t.

  “Momma?” Brynn giggled.

  Brynn, Mya, and Jet were staring at them. No, not at them—at their feet. Skylar stared down at the pile of dog toys at their feet.

  “Throw one.” Brynn clapped her hands. “Jet wants to run.”

  “He’s fast.” Kyle crouched, picking up one of the rubber balls and giving it a good throw.

  Skylar smiled at the surprise on her daughter’s faces as the ball continued to sail through the air. Kyle had a good throwing arm. Jet was sprinting after the ball as though his back legs were spring-loaded.

  She glanced at Kyle. What was she doing? She didn’t want to stay here. She didn’t want the girls to grow up this way. But accepting Frank’s help was exactly how she’d wound up here. Frank was family. Kyle was... Kyle was someone Chad trusted and sent to check on them. But that didn’t mean she should uproot the girls in the hopes that things would be better? Did it? Her stomach churned and twisted until it was in knots.

  His gaze locked with hers. “Give me a minute. Please, Skylar.”

  No. Don’t do it. Don’t listen. If she did, he might say what she wanted to hear.

  * * *

  “I didn’t offer you the job out of pity.” He took his time, considering his words. “I offered you the job because he’s got you in a corner. I don’t mean to speak ill of your kin but...I’m not sure he has your—or the girls’—best interest at heart.”

  She pressed a kiss to the top of Greer’s head, but she didn’t argue.

  “The way I see it, it’s going to be hard to get ahead here. No car. No job.” He didn’t know why, but the bastard was trying to make sure Skylar had no other option. He ran a hand along the back of his neck. “The job offer is a way to get you out of here, to give you options...and a real chance at independence.” He swallowed, seeing her posture get stiffer and stiffer, and knew he was pushing it. “And...and there’s grass where I live. Green grass.”

  Skylar was so surprised she laughed.

  He could breathe a little easier. “I’ve only spent a day with you all but we’ve known each other for years through Chad. That’s why I care about what happens to you. This has nothing to do with pity.” He was doing a piss-poor job of explaining things. “Do you understand?”

  Skylar was staring up at him. “I guess.”

  “That’s a start.” He glanced at the house. “Unless there’s something keeping you here?”

  “He’s the only family I have left.” Not that she sounded happy about it but, still, it explained a few things.

  He nodded.

  “We stayed in base housing for a while but when Mya got meningitis, I had a hard time knowing which way was up. Frank just showed up—out of nowhere—when I needed help. And he was great... I know that’s hard to believe, but it’s true.” She sighed. “We lost our base housing so he said we could stay with him until we found a place. I brought Greer home from the hospital, thinking all this was temporary.” She shrugged. “Then there was no money for a house or Mya’s surgery or...anything.”

  That knocked the air from his lungs. That Frank Kline had taken her money was bad. But money for surgery. For Mya? He’d taken Skylar’s nest egg—her security and her future. Kyle wasn’t sure what to say. Not out loud anyway. Mentally, he was working through a long list of insults. Frank Kline was an asshole. A selfish son of a bitch. A thief. A soulless bastard... And so much more. “What kind of surgery?”

  “Cochlear implant. If she’s a candidate.” Skylar watched the girls smother Jet with hugs and pats and approval—the ball safely retrieved. “She’s doing well, picking up signs, and she has Brynn. But they start kindergarten next year. I want that to be as easy as possible for her, you know?” The longing in Skylar’s voice triggered his protective side. Skylar was a good mother. A damn good mother. All she wanted was to take care of her kids.

  His attention returned to Mya, Brynn,
and Jet. To look at them now, it was hard to believe Mya ever had reservations about Jet. They were fast friends now—all three of them. The girls were covered in dirt and Jet kisses, but they were grinning from ear to ear. Those grins were familiar. Chad’s grin. “How old was she when she got meningitis?”

  But she knew what he was asking because she answered, “Chad died right about the time she got sick. The twins were almost three.”

  She’d lost her husband, dealt with Mya’s illness, and had a baby, and the only support she had cleaned out her bank account and treated her with a total lack of respect? “A lot of people would have buckled under that sort of pressure.”

  “I didn’t have a choice.” She held Greer close, stooped to pick up the ball, and offered it to him.

  He threw the ball, mulling over Skylar’s words. As soon as Jet tore off after the ball, Mya and Brynn were clapping and squealing. A simple pleasure that brought so much joy. After everything they’d been through, didn’t they deserve some joy? “You have a choice now, Skylar. Not a handout. A job. If you want it.”

  She was frowning when her gaze locked with his.

  “I can see you’re still skeptical so I have a few things that might help,” he said, grabbing Greer’s little foot when the baby cooed and flailed her arms at him. “Greer wants to hear what I have to say.”

  “Oh, she does, does she?” But Skylar was laughing again.

  “Austin is about forty-five minutes away. The Texas School for the Deaf is there—so are a whole slew of specialists.” He only knew this because he’d spent the night researching on his phone.

  “I’m listening.” Skylar shook her head.

  “And your own place.” He kept talking to Greer, her gooey grin so damn adorable he didn’t care that he was making faces and acting like an ass. “Green grass.”

  “You mentioned that one.” She sighed.

  “Chad wanted you to keep Jet.” He looked at her then.

  “He did?” She blinked, several times. “Of course, he did. He wrote stories about Jet in his letters—just for the girls.”