Chapter 5
As they reached the car, Brogan floundered. He owed Pixie an apology, but maybe here, in the restaurant lot, wasn’t the right time, especially since he wasn’t sure what to say. He’d asked her out, told her they’d talk, and then he’d more or less abandoned her without a thought.
He ran a hand over his face. Instincts were all well and good; he’d survived more than once because he’d listened to that internal call to act instead of think.
Now, however, he had more than himself to think about.
More than other trained team members. He had Shayna, and if things went right, he’d have Andy and Pixie, too.
After giving him a worried glance, she pushed the stroller to the back of his SUV. She was loaded down with everything while he let Shayna finish her bottle.
“Pixie …”
“I’m sorry.” In a rush, she turned and put a hand to his chest. “I should have asked before volunteering you to do even more. I just … I looked at Benny’s mom and I felt so bad for her, I wanted to do something, too. It was thoughtless. I’m sure you’d rather go home and—”
“It’s not a problem,” he interrupted, bemused that she would be apologizing when it should be him. “I’m glad you offered. With so many other people around, I didn’t even think about how she’d get her car. I just assumed someone would help.”
“Someone probably would have.”
After all that turmoil, he found a smile. “Someone did. You.” Because that’s the type of woman she was. While the others had stood around, unsure what to do, Pixie had stepped up.
“But you have to be …”
“What?”
“I don’t know. Upset?” She shook her head as if to discount the word as soon as she said it.
“No, I’m not upset.” His mouth twitched.
Granted, his adrenaline was still pumping, but that would subside soon. Mostly, he was ready to move on, but it made sense to make sure a single mother had what she needed first.
Pixie frowned at him. “After what you went through, I’m sure you’re ready to change into your own clothes. And you must be hungry.”
He covered her hand with his own. “The same is true for you.”
“Except I didn’t do anything.”
That made him frown. “Of course you did.”
With a puff of exasperation, she said, “I did nothing, except panic a little.”
“You watched the kids.”
“Ha! They were fine, more interested in the confusion, a new setting, and the birds than anything else.” Lowering her gaze, she admitted, “I wish I was more like you, but overall, I was useless. I had no idea how to help.”
The way her words tumbled out, rushed and defensive, bothered Brogan a lot. “Listen to me, okay? No one there was qualified to help that kid.”
“Except you, and that’s my point! Without you, he’d be …” She shook her head, refusing to say the word.
“He’s alive because of you, too. I wouldn’t have left Shayna with anyone else, and that means I couldn’t have saved the boy.”
“No, I—”
“Pixie.” He tilted up her face, much as he’d done with Benny, in a gesture meant to calm, reassure, and connect. “No one but you.”
After a second of uncertainty, she drew an uneven breath. “You mean that?”
“I never would have trusted Shayna’s care with anyone else, definitely not a stranger.
On my way down that hill, I knew someone was going to be hurt, maybe killed.
I felt it in my guts. A drunk asshole with a big boat, a churning propeller, kids everywhere—that scenario equals disaster.
” Okay, so maybe he was a little upset. Even now, he felt a killing rage at how badly things could have ended.
He understood and accepted accidents, but he had zero tolerance for gross negligence, which was exactly what that driver had exhibited.
“No one else was trained to react, and I kept thinking, ‘Thank God Pixie is with me.’”
She stared up at him with her big, solemn blue eyes, and finally nodded. “Thank you for trusting me.”
I want you to trust me, too. Damn, he wanted that. Instead of saying it out loud, he searched her face and realized how the near tragedy had affected her. “You’re shaking. Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
“Yes. I’m positive. I’m rattled, I won’t deny that, but like you, I wouldn’t risk Andy if I wasn’t sure it was safe.”
Brogan accepted that. “All right. I’ll be right behind you, okay? Any problems, just pull over.”
With a half smile, she handed him Ellen’s keys. Together, they got the kids in their car seats, with everything else stowed in back. Shayna was already yawning, ready for a nap, and Andy looked a little tuckered out, too.
Brogan pressed a kiss to each baby’s head, then had to resist doing the same with Pixie. Wasn’t easy, but he got into Ellen’s car, moved the seat way back to accommodate his long legs, and waited to follow Pixie.
Thankfully, the hospital wasn’t too far away, because he just knew Shayna needed a diaper change. He’d probably have to handle it in the hospital parking lot.
He’d had big plans for that dinner, damn it. He’d wanted to ease Pixie into the idea of a closer relationship. Instead, she was shaky, upset, and still going out of her way to help others.
The night wasn’t half over, either. He knew that, even if she didn’t.
Trailing behind her, he had to smile at what an overly cautious driver she was. She didn’t go one mile over the speed limit, used her blinker early, and was courteous to other drivers, too.
He thought of how she’d looked when she’d taken Ellen’s hands, the compassion in her eyes.
It didn’t take a mind reader to know that Pixie, also a single mom, had felt a kinship to the other woman.
It helped that Pixie had such close friends.
From what she’d said, they were better than any family he knew.
Brogan had no real concept of family. Sure, he’d thought of his team as brothers. He’d have given his life for any one of them.
Instead, they’d died, and he’d been left behind. To miss them. To live alone. To wonder over and over again what he might have done differently to change the outcome.
Every time those memories resurfaced in his mind, his heart raced and his throat tried to close up.
He gripped the steering wheel harder, aware of sweat breaking out on the back of his neck as he fought to stay focused, to push the smothering sense of failure away so he could do what had to be done here and now.
Yes, he’d wanted to die, too. Being the only survivor had felt like a kick in the face. Worse than death in so many ways.
Until he’d been told about Shayna.
His sister would never know the gift she’d given him.
If he could have Connie back, if he could redo his past with her, he would.
Instead, she’d thrown him a lifeline. Not just by entrusting him to care for Shayna, but because she’d left so many letters, too.
He knew what Connie wanted—for her daughter and for the brother who’d let her down.
God, the ways that he’d failed the only family who’d cared for him was an unbearable reality.
Now, whenever he thought of Connie, he thanked God that he was alive, able to care for Shayna, to show her what he thought love should be. His life had meaning again.
It wasn’t what he’d thought it would be. It was better.
Gradually, the awful anxiety faded and he felt more like himself, like a man in control. His muscles relaxed. The sweat on his neck dried. He was able to draw an even breath.
Pixie turned on her signal to give him plenty of notice when they neared the small hospital. Thankfully, the lot wasn’t too crowded, and they were able to park near each other.
He walked up to the SUV to open her door.
She got out quietly, saying, “Andy’s asleep, but I think Shayna needs her diaper changed. She just started to fuss.”
Nodding, he opened the back door and unbuckled his little Sugar. She was working herself up to a real fit. He lifted her out, carefully cradled her close, and crooned to her. “Shh, baby girl, it’s okay. I’ll have you dry in no time.”
“I’m sorry,” Pixie said. “I should have checked her diaper before we left the restaurant.”
No way would he let Pixie take that blame.
“It was my job to check, but we both wanted to get here. She’s fine, I’m sure.
” Already, Shayna had settled down and now she was busy snuggling into his neck, one small hand fisted in his shirt as she rubbed her face against him.
God, he loved it, and he loved her. He kissed her forehead, then kissed her again.
And once more. He’d never tire of her sweet scent and softness, or the way she clung to him.
When he looked up, Pixie was giving him one of those “aww” smiles.
To fend off whatever she might say, he asked, “Are you familiar with this place?”
“Yes.” She stroked the baby’s back, her expression tender. “I had a few appointments here. I mean, back when I first came to Bramble.” Mouth lifting to the side, she admitted, “Marlow insisted. She was like a general giving orders, but they were all for my own good.”
“Because you were sick, and you did need care?” He’d love to know details, the extent of her illness, just how much help she’d had. Hell, he wanted to know everything about Pixie, every tiny detail.
“Yes.” Letting the subject go, she went to the back of the vehicle and opened it, spread out a blanket for him, and got out a diaper and wipes. “How do you want to do this? Do you want to stay here with the kids while I run in Ellen’s keys, or vice versa?”
Brogan indicated his mismatched clothes. “If it doesn’t matter to you, I’ll wait here.”
“That’s fine.” She handed him the key fob to the SUV and got out her phone to call Ellen. “You have my number if Andy wakes up and needs me.”
“Yes, I do.”
Knowing she’d ask Ellen how she was and if she needed anything, he said, “Don’t rush, Pixie. Take whatever time you need, but let me know if you’re going to be gone awhile.” If so, he’d find something else for the kids to eat. They had to be getting hungry.