Chapter 3
3
His eyes widened ever so slightly, betraying the shock that struck him profoundly like a punch to the gut. “...my daughter. She had cancer.” The words lingered in the air between them.
When he'd first seen her in the cafeteria with the sun creating a halo around her head and her eyes closed, the serenity he'd witnessed gave way to concern moving through her gaze. He now realized it was her mother's instinct to protect her child.
Despite her lack of a wedding band, he knew he couldn't assume she was single. But where was the father? Why was he not here? He continued to search her gaze, uncertain of what he found in her eyes now, but managed to soften his voice. “I'm sorry.”
She offered a small, grateful smile. “Thank you. She's doing much better. I pray the hard part stays behind us. Today, she's having some regularly scheduled tests run. She's only five, but I couldn't be with her, so I thought I would grab something to eat and spend a little time in the chapel.”
“And here I am, intruding on your solitude?—”
“No, not at all. I just find that the smells of the hospital tend to plunge me right back to the awful days. It’s like jumping into a pool of icy water, and the shock is overwhelming. It takes a while to feel like I can breathe properly again. But here in the chapel, there's a respite from that. It’s a haven. I can center my thoughts so that when I see her again, I have positive vibes to offer her.”
He understood all too well what it meant to plunge into cold water. Much of SEAL training had involved exactly that exercise, and she was right—the shock was nearly unbearable and hard to regulate breathing again. Yet now, his heart twisted at the mention of her daughter's age. “Only five,” he murmured, shaking his head slowly in disbelief and sorrow.
He had endured and survived the horrors of combat, witnessing comrades maimed or killed. Hell, he'd barely saved Devil and Logan back in the day. And though heartsick over each of those incidents, he knew they were adults who'd chosen to place themselves in dangerous situations, always knowing they might not live to see the next day. But the idea of a little five-year-old girl having battled cancer tore at his soul. He had nieces and nephews her age. But she said “had,” not “has.” So… is it behind her? Can it be behind her so early? Shit… “I… I swear, I don't know what to say.”
Her face softened, and her beauty deepened at that moment of shared vulnerability. “You don't have to say anything. I'm hopeful the worst is behind us.”
“How long ago… or rather, when was she… or… damn, I'm sorry.” He hated the inadequacy he felt, struggling to find the right words.
She smiled softly. “It's okay. I understand it's hard to know what to say. She was diagnosed when she was two, and the next year and a half was the worst with chemo and all the problems and side effects that go along with that treatment. But for the past year, she's responded well, and her tests, so far, don't show any new cancer. The doctors say she's in remission, but whenever we come in for tests, it's like all my fears resurface.” Her voice wavered as she exhaled a trembling breath.
“I can only imagine how hard it is to stay positive. I really am so sorry, um…?” He lifted a brow in the silent question of her name but understood if she didn't want to offer it to a stranger.
Her blue eyes warmed. “Lenore. I'm Lenore Keller.”
She reached across the space between them, and he gratefully accepted the offering of her hand. Her touch was soft, and the warmth from her palm against his radiated up his arm. It was a strange sensation—not a lightning bolt or tingle, but a soothing warmth that began to fill him. The brief, polite handshake he would usually offer a woman lasted much longer. Her eyes dilated as her brows slightly lifted. He was certain he wasn't the only one affected by the encounter.
When he’d told her he worked for a security company and had been a SEAL, he’d waited, holding his breath, bracing for her reaction. This was the moment most women would offer a wide-eyed, flirtatious, lip-biting look of interest. It always turned him off. He hated the idea of someone wanting to know him just for his chosen career when their next words were usually along the lines of “ooh, I read about those in romance novels.”
But instead, she’d simply acknowledged his capability as a medic. The tension had left his chest as his breath rushed from his lungs, no longer constricted by the fear of her response. She’d barely acknowledged the security company part of his job description and instead commented on the rescues.
Still holding her hand, he smiled. “Lenore? That's a beautiful name.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “When I was little, I hated it. I wanted a name like my friends—Heather, Nicole, Ashley, Megan. But I've slowly grown to appreciate the name. My grandmothers were Lynnette and Nora. Lenore is a tribute to both.” She smiled again. “I did the same thing to Evie. My mother is Evelyn, and her other grandmother is Susie.”
“The name is beautiful, and so is the story of its origin.”
Her head tilted slightly as her intense gaze penetrated again. “You're unusual. Not in a bad way,” she rushed. “But… well, I've never had a man think our names are beautiful. Or at least, not out loud.” Her hand was still in his, and her lips curved as she asked, “And your name is…?”
His hand twitched when he realized he hadn't introduced himself. She slid her hand from his, and he hated the loss. “I'm sorry. I'm Sisco. Sisco Aguilar.”
“It's nice to meet you, Mr. Aguilar.”
“Sisco is fine, and the pleasure is all mine.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear again, and he battled the desire to do it himself. Her hair looked soft, and he had no doubt it would feel like silk strands against his fingers. A second thought jolted him. Just because she doesn't have a ring doesn't mean she's not married or involved.
“Can I ask if you've had help with your daughter? Family? Friends who give you a chance to do something on your own? Um… your husband or… uh… Evie's father?” He knew his question was a fumbling attempt to find out if she was married, but he truly wanted to know if she was carrying this burden alone.
“My dad passed away when I was just out of college, but my mom is in the area. She helps so much… God, I don't know what I would have done without her. Friends and coworkers also volunteer to babysit when I need it the most. But during the times Evie was in the hospital, I couldn't leave her, so it was always me.” She looked down, her delicate fingers clasped together in her lap. They sat in silence for a moment while the soft music in the background offered a soothing respite from the quiet. She finally looked up at him, holding his gaze. “I'm a single mom. Evie's father, couldn't deal with the… well… I usually sugarcoat it for others by saying that he couldn't deal with the stress of Evie's issues.” She lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. “He decided that leaving was easier.”
Her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip, and while that little action would normally catch his attention in a way that would make him think of kissing her, right now, all he wanted to know was about the asshole who walked away from Lenore and Evie. “If you were willing to tell me the whole truth and not just the watered-down version, what would it be?”
She held his gaze, and a specter of honest resolution filled her eyes. “The truth is that he couldn't deal with having a sick child. Not just the time, energy, dedication, and devotion required to do everything and be everything we could for her. He couldn't deal with having a not perfect child. Somehow, he saw Evie's cancer as a hit to him. At first, he was very supportive, thinking we could simply fix her with a quick solution. But when life became about hair loss, weight loss, holding her while she threw her guts up, sitting for hours during chemo treatments that were gut-wrenching for her and heart-wrenching for me… well, there was much more, but you get the picture. It simply wasn't what he wanted to deal with. He told me that he had been unprepared for a sick child. He loved her but couldn't be what we needed from him.”
“So the asshole divorced you?” He knew his incredulity came through in his tone, but he had no idea how to take the shock out of his words.
A brief, unexpected giggle slipped out, and she shook her head. “I don't know why I laughed but thank you. These days in the hospital seldom bring laughter. But yes, William divorced me. He pays child support and has no problem doing that. He found someone else, and when they married, he moved away.”
Sisco shook his head slowly, taking in what Lenore had told him. She admitted she didn't talk about this part of her life to strangers, yet he was thrilled she'd unburdened herself to him. He couldn't explain the need to want to know everything about her,
She reached into her bag and pulled out her phone, glancing at it before dropping it back. “Sorry, I just wanted to check the time.”
“Do you need to go back to Evie now?”
“I have a few more minutes before they'll bring her back to her room, so I really should head there.”
She tilted her head to the side and smiled. “I want to thank you, Sisco. It's been genuinely nice talking to you. I suppose there are just some things that you can say to someone who's removed from the situation. That's been… well, refreshing.”
Sisco respected her candor. There was no hidden agenda. No pretense. No flirting, no searching for attention. She wasn't even asking for sympathy. She was simply what she presented… a beautiful woman who loved her child and was doing the best she could in circumstances that had been hellish. By now, they had spent half an hour in the chapel, and he had no reason to stay longer. He could say goodbye, wish her well, walk to his vehicle, and drive home. Lenore would become nothing more than one of the many people he crossed paths with, only spending a few minutes with, and that would be the only role they'd ever play.
But no way would he settle for a fleeting encounter. He could fool himself and say he wanted to stay because she had no one else with her. He could pretend that he was simply being altruistic. But the truth was, he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay and offer this enigmatic woman who'd captured his attention all the support she might need. “I know this might sound strange, Lenore, but if you'd like a little more company, I'd love to hang around and meet Evie.”
She turned to face him fully, her gaze delving so deeply he felt his soul was being searched. He realized the offer sounded ridiculous—a man she'd just met offering to hang out with her in a hospital to meet her young daughter. He even realized it sounded creepy as fuck. Shaking his head, he winced. “I know that makes me sound weird. I promise I have no other reason, certainly nothing ill-intended. I would just love to hang out with you more and have a chance to meet your strong daughter. But I realize I'm a stranger… hell, you probably think I followed you in here just to pick you up.”
He shifted over, retrieved his wallet, and pulled out his ID. “Here’s my driver’s license and my Lighthouse Security Investigation ID.”
War waged behind her eyes, but she gazed at his ID, then focused on his face again. She finally nodded. “After my divorce, I wondered if I could tell the strong guys from the weak. I'm referring to the strong in character. But I think Evie would be thrilled to meet you. She loves superheroes, and let's face it, you're as big as one. Meeting you just might bring another smile to her face.” As she stood and pulled her purse strap over her shoulder, she added, “And I can't deny it would put a smile on my face, too.”
At that, he grinned in relief. Holding the chapel door open for her, he followed her into the hallway, and the quiet bubble that had surrounded them disappeared. The hustle and bustle of the hospital corridor swallowed the quiet intimacy they'd shared, and he immediately missed the privacy.
Lenore's demeanor changed as they walked toward the elevators. Gone was the calm, serene woman who had spoken softly and eloquently. Now, he could feel her anxiety vibrating throughout her body. He longed to take her hand in his, to offer comfort. Instead, he simply remained solidly steadfast at her side. Once inside the elevator, he glanced down, noticing she was a head shorter than he, and while strength exuded from her, there was also an air of fragility that called to his protective nature.
Even though he'd been a SEAL and now a Keeper, he understood what his mom had always said—he was a protector at heart. The elevator ride was only up one floor, and as they exited, he allowed her to take the lead, guiding them to where they needed to go.
She kept her eyes forward as she said, “When Evie was first diagnosed, we went to the main children's cancer center in Helena to see the children's oncologist there. Fortunately, their devised treatment plan could be implemented here, which is much closer to home.” She suddenly looked up sharply. “It wasn't the drive that I minded, but I hated for Evie to sometimes be so sick in the car with a long drive. My mom would take us so that I could sit in the back while Evie threw up—oh God, I'm babbling.”
“Not at all. You don't have to explain yourself to me, Lenore. I can't begin to imagine how difficult this was for you. Especially alone.”
She snorted as she twisted her head to look up at him. “Well, at first, we weren't alone. William came with us at the beginning. But then he began making excuses as to why he couldn't attend her appointments.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I know this might sound strange because, at first, it was horrible. It's hard to imagine that your husband, the man you thought you'd share your life with, the father of your child, couldn't handle the responsibilities when things go wrong. I suppose I simply had to put all that in a box and shut the lid because Evie needed me, and her needs were all that mattered.” She shrugged, shook her head slightly, then opened her mouth as if to say more but quickly shut it as they approached the doors along the hall of the children's wing. She looked at him and said, “They have a private waiting area for us so she can rest after the testing without fully admitting her to a room. I can take her home as soon as everything looks okay.”
“I'm glad home is close.”
“I still must drive to Valier, but she's not sick anymore, so it's easy. She'll probably nap in the car, and I'll just listen to the radio.”
They entered the bright and colorful room with individual-curtained areas. A nurse popped in behind them. “Hey, Lenore!” The cheery-sounding nurse's eyes moved to Sisco and widened before shifting back to Lenore. “Wow, I thought you were just going down to get a bite in the cafeteria and maybe walk around the hospital. I had no idea you would return with someone for Evie to meet!”
Lenore blushed and rolled her eyes. “I guess you never know what you'll find in the cafeteria, do you?”
“Damn, I need to check out their new menu!” The nurse winked at him and said, “I'm Rachel. Glad to see Lenore has a friend with her.”
Lenore's blush deepened. “Oh, well, he's just?—”
“Thank you. We're new friends, but I wanted to be here to offer support and meet Evie.”
The nurse smiled wider and then turned to Lenore. “Evie is all finished. I got a call that said she's being brought back up.”
“I don't suppose you have any news for me, do you?”
“I don't get any early intel, sweetie. You know that. But they said Evie did great, and I know the doctor will be in soon.”
Before they could speak again, the noise at the door signaled Evie's return. Sisco suddenly felt nervous, his heart skipping a beat. For the entire past hour, from when he first noticed Lenore in the cafeteria to now, he'd fallen under the spell of the beautiful woman he now knew was strong and caring. But here he was faced with eagerness that the little girl would approve of her mother bringing a stranger to meet her.
As the wheelchair came into view, Sisco's breath caught in his throat. He spied a blue-eyed little girl with short dark hair that framed her face. Her hair was shorter than Lenore’s but was the same shade. Her smile was wide, and she beamed directly at her mom, lighting the room. It was as though she was a little version of her mom. Evie's warmth engulfed him, reminiscent of his earlier connection with Lenore.
Evie's eyes darted curiously toward him, her smile unwavering. He realized the gravity of the meeting—here was a child who'd endured more than most, yet her spirit shone brightly. He hoped to earn a place, even if just momentarily, in her world of resilience and laughter.