FOUR
M EGAN HEFTED THE BOX. The files were heavy, but she didn’t feel right throwing away the former therapist’s things. When she asked Josie about them, the camp director had called the lady who said she would be back to pick them up after her latest vacation. Retirement must be nice.
She looked up at the top cupboard as she climbed the ladder, wondering again if she had made the correct choice of putting the heavy box all the way up there. Maybe she should have asked Cody to help or one of the rodeo guys that were volunteering. She shook her head. Determined to do things on her own, she grit her teeth and climbed another step up the ladder.
The box wobbled as she lifted it, and she almost dropped it before bringing it back against her chest, realizing she would have to climb the ladder a bit more. One step. Two steps. On the second step, the ladder slid just a fraction of an inch, but it was enough to make her heart race and sweat bead on her forehead.
“Just let me get that box in there,” she whispered as she drew in a breath and heaved the box into the open cupboard.
The quick motion caused the ladder to slide out from under her and she grasped the ledge of the cupboard as the ladder disappeared and clattered to the floor. A short scream erupted from her lips as she hung from the ledge, her fingers quickly losing their grip on the dusty shelf.
“Help!” she hollered, though she wasn’t sure anyone could hear her.
Turning her head carefully, she looked down to the ground a good four feet below her. She could drop easily, but unfortunately, the ladder lay directly where she would land, and she knew that was a broken ankle waiting to happen.
As she drew in a deep breath to call out for help again, the door crashed open as someone rushed over, kicked the ladder out of the way with a metallic bang, and wrapped their hands around her upper legs in a rush of fiery sparks.
“I’ve got you.” The deep voice filtered through her memory with tingles of familiarity, tingles that mirrored the sparks igniting where the man held her legs. “Let go. I won’t let you fall.”
Her mind spun, but she did as he commanded, and she slid down until she settled against a solid chest with powerful arms wrapped around her. She drew in a shaky breath as she put weight on her feet, trying to ground herself, but they gave way and he caught her up in his arms.
Reading novels with women being whisked off their feet by strong strangers had always made her swoon, but having it happen in real life created a heady swimming feeling that she wasn’t sure she would recover from. Mixed with that sensation was the spicy scent of fresh lumber and leather, almost enough to make her pass out.
The man laid her gently on the sofa in her office, and she felt him squat next to her. The dizziness had made her close her eyes tightly, but the familiar chuckle had her flinging them open.
“I guess you were right,” he said, his words like liquid velvet running over her.
Megan’s eyes finally focused, seeing the man push back the brim of his cowboy hat and meet her eyes in an amused, green-eyed stare.
“Oh my goodness,” she inhaled sharply. “Tyler Durango.”
“At your service, ma'am.” His smile slowly brought her back to her senses.
“Megan,” she corrected. “I can’t believe you’ve had perfect timing once again.” She pushed herself to a sitting position.
“What can I say? I strive for perfection.” He cleared his throat and tipped his hat back down. “I was looking for Camp Hope’s therapist when I heard your scream.”
“Oh,” she said, straightening her hair and clothes. “Oh!” she said again when she realized who that meant Tyler Durango was. “You’re Krista’s uncle.”
He nodded and glanced quickly out the windows as if he was afraid of being caught.
“She’s leading the campers on a trail ride right now.”
His shoulders relaxed, and a sideways grin twitched at one corner of his mouth in a way that made her heart thunder even harder. “She rides?”
“Very well. She’s quite the horsewoman.” Megan took in a deep breath, doing her best to compose herself as she stood.
Tyler reached out a hand, grasping her elbow to steady her. “You should give yourself a minute.”
“I’m fine,” she said, but smiled to soften the sharp retort. “Just embarrassed.”
Tyler looked back at the cupboard and then the ladder. “Taking something out or putting it in?”
“Putting it in.”
He nodded, rose, and replaced the ladder beneath the opened cupboard. “The part with the rubber grips goes on the bottom. Lock them in place before you climb up without someone to hold it for you.”
Heat traveled up her neck and settled on her cheeks. “Thanks. Blonde move, I guess.”
“No, just lack of experience. There’s nothing to be ashamed about.”
She watched him closely, reading the nuances of his confident movements which counteracted the hesitancy in his gaze. “I didn’t recognize you at first.” She nodded to the hat, letting her eyes scan down the scruff on his cheeks to his t-shirt, Wranglers, and boots. “You’ve got a different uniform on.”
Amusement crinkled his eyes as he hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “Two different lives, I guess.”
“I think they both fit you quite well,” Megan said, her eyes going wide as soon as the words left her mouth. She strode to her desk, quickly putting it between herself and the handsome cowboy.
Tyler shifted his weight, and she awkwardly motioned to the chair in front of her desk.
“I didn’t expect it to be business that brought us together again, but I guess that makes sense, being as you were on the road to Camp when you found me the first time.”
He nodded like he wasn’t sure how he felt about having business with her, either.
“So, Krista.” She gulped and tried to cover it up by taking a drink from her water bottle.
“My niece.” He drew in a deep breath. “How is she…I mean, is she holding up okay? Does she like where she is at?”
“Mr. Durango,” she started.
He raised his eyebrows at the name.
She cleared her throat and softened her tone. “Tyler, how long has it been since you’ve seen Krista?”
He dropped his gaze to his hands. “Since my sister’s…her parents’ funeral.”
“That’s six years, right?” She looked down at the file she had left out on her desk to prepare for this meeting.
“Five years, five months, and seven days.”
Megan snapped her eyes back up to him, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s not easy losing the last family you have left.”
Megan nodded. Seeing the pain that ripped through him went beyond losing his sister. “And your parents?”
“Mom died of breast cancer when I was in basic training. Dad died of a broken heart only months later.” He stated the facts, keeping his face stoic and eyes glazed.
“Geez,” Megan said under her breath, as she remembered what she had told him that first night about his family being excited to have him return—and when he had no one to welcome him home. “You’ve been through a lot.”
“That’s not even the half of it, ma'am…Megan.” He met her eyes, no longer glazed. “But we’re not here to talk about me.”
“I beg to differ. If you’re asking about Krista now, it’s because you want to come back into her life. That means I need to know if you are in a place to handle a fifteen-year-old girl dealing with depression.” Megan’s heart hurt as she said the words, but thinking of Krista leaving her life and trusting her into the care of a man not able to deal with his own grief made a strange protectiveness come out of her.
“Is this protocol for every relative?”
“It’s my job to interview potential parents and make a judgment call on if they are a good match with the child. I have to look out for the children’s interests first.”
Tyler nodded, his knee bouncing.
“I’m not necessarily saying you should consider me a potential parent, as you called it.” He met her eyes, and she saw the depth of his indecision. “I don’t want to add more distress to her life.”
Megan breathed out slowly, trying to cover her sigh. “You want to be a part of her life, but you don’t know how big of a part, yet.”
Tyler shrugged, dropping his eyes again. “I don’t even know if she remembers who I am.”
“She remembers you,” Megan whispered.
His head jerked up, and he sucked in a breath. “She talks about me?”
“It’s hard to get her to talk much at all, even more difficult about her past, but we’ve been spending a lot of time together and had a bit of a breakthrough.”
Tyler scooted forward in his seat. “I want her to know she isn’t alone.”
“Are you ready to take that commitment on?” she countered.
“Does it have to be all or nothing?” His jaw clenched, and his eyes seemed to say that he had little confidence in what he was worth to a teenage girl.
“You need to consider the fact that if Krista sees you, she may not understand why she can’t come home with you.” Her throat tightened as she said the words. Of course, she wanted what was best for Krista…even if that meant it would shatter her own dreams.
Tyler released his hands, and they grabbed the ends of the armrests on his chair in a white-knuckled grip. “Is she that unhappy where she is at now?”
“Here?” Megan shook her head. “I think she is happy here, but this is only a summer camp. It’s difficult to feel you belong in someone else’s family. I think you need to understand that Krista deals with severe depression and only recently has shown an interest in anything.”
“I couldn’t stay with her…even if, if I had been strong enough, I couldn’t. I had just signed a new enlistment contract for six years.”
Megan warred between wanting to go to Tyler and comfort him, and wanting to berate him for not figuring out a way to stay with Krista. She dropped her hands from the desk into her lap to squeeze them together, keeping herself from moving.
“Does Krista understand this?”
“I don’t know if she knows,” he said. “Is she in an awful place? Do they mistreat her?” He leaned forward, giving Megan a peek into the man he could be if needed. The icy protectiveness didn’t upset Megan. In fact, it kind of captivated her.
“No. There are no signs of abuse. I think what Krista is going through is internal, and it's going to take someone she really trusts to help her through it.” She wanted that someone to be her, but that was selfish.
“You think she could grow to trust me?” Tyler sat at the edge of his seat now.
“That, Tyler, is up to you, but yes, with time, I think she could.” Megan swallowed, glancing out the window as she saw the horses coming down the trail. “I think it would be best if you give me time to prepare her for the meeting.” She stood, pointedly looking at the horses, before meeting his eyes.
He watched out the window, taking several steps toward it. “That’s her? In the lead? Her hair is so dark.”
“Yes, that’s her. She’s dyed her hair black and usually wears dark eyeliner, too. Her clothes are all black. As I said, she is dealing with some serious depression.”
“I know how that feels,” he muttered as he watched Krista disappear into the barn. “If you think it’s best she’s prepared, I should leave now before she sees me…in case she recognizes me.”
“I understand. I’ll call you this evening to let you know how the talk went and when we can set up a meeting.” Megan glanced down at the file. “Is this the correct number?”
Tyler leaned over her to read the file, his scent filling her mind with even more confusion. “Yes.” He backed up and met her eyes. “Thank you, Megan. I hope…I hope I don’t disappoint her…or you.” With a quick tip of his hat, he disappeared out her door and into his truck, quickly driving out of camp.
“What a discombobulated mess.” Megan leaned her head against the glass on her door.
Her phone ringing drew her back to her desk. Seeing Chasity’s name, she eagerly answered the call.
“He’s here,” Chasity said, breathless.
“If by he, you mean a certain Tyler Durango, yes. He just left my office.”
“What?! How did that happen? I mean, I was pretty sure when I met him at Jordan’s last night that he was the same guy, but I wanted to wait until I was sure. What was he doing at your office? I thought you hadn’t exchanged information?”
“We didn’t. He’s Krista’s uncle.” Megan slumped into her seat.
“No way…he was talking about his niece at dinner…” Chasity trailed off. “This keeps getting better!”
“What do you mean better? You know how attached I’m getting to Krista, and now the man I haven’t been able to stop thinking about is her uncle….oh…” Megan followed Chasity’s thought but shook her head. “No, it can’t be that simple.”
“Why not?” Chasity asked, her voice bubbly with excitement.
“That’s not how life works, Chas.” Megan picked up Krista’s file and opened the bottom drawer to put it away, the corner of the weird letter catching her eye as she closed it. A shiver ran through her as footsteps creaked outside her door. “My next appointment is here. We’ll talk later. Thanks for always thinking positive for me.”
Megan hung up the phone and drew in a deep breath. She could do this. For Krista’s sake, she had to.
Tyler paced the house from the kitchen to the master bedroom and back, holding his phone and glancing at the time every so often. Why hadn’t she called yet?
It had been such a shock to see that once again the woman in distress had been Megan, and not only that, but she was his niece’s therapist. How had his niece gotten such a hot therapist? He hated that it was her. It confused the whole situation.
During their entire discussion, he had to fight against the growing attraction he had for the independent, confident, and chatty woman he had rescued on the side of the road. How could God hate him this much? First, He takes everyone he loves away from him leaving him isolated in a cruel world. Then He convolutes the whole situation with his only surviving family member by adding in a gorgeous blonde therapist.
Maybe it only confirmed what he feared: He was too damaged to even think about entering a relationship. Best that it had to be a working partnership. That made it unprofessional to date, ending his internal discussion.
“Ugh, why couldn’t she have been old or ugly and bald!” He kicked at the baseboard that had come loose along the wall in the hallway.
Not able to handle the waiting any longer, he grabbed a sledgehammer from the bag of tools he left by the front door and swung it into the wall between the living room and kitchen. The shock reverberated through his muscles and into his bones, leaving a huge hole in the wall. He smiled with satisfaction and swung again.
By the time the phone rang, Tyler was so into the destruction of the wall that he almost didn’t hear it in time to answer.
“Hello,” he breathed out in between gasps.
“Oh, did I catch you working out?” Megan asked, her voice holding a hint of the amusement he had heard before.
“Ugh, no.” He drew in a deep breath, steadying his breathing. “I’m putting holes in my wall.”
“Oh…uh, anger issues?”
“Constructive emotional expression.” Tyler spouted out the words as he set down the hammer, his muscles humming with life.
“That’s a mouthful for a tantrum.”
He let out a chuckle, surprised at how relaxed he felt after demolishing the wall. “Home improvement, but no one said I couldn’t enjoy it.”
Megan laughed, her voice easing into the lightness he had already come to long for. “That definitely sets my mind at ease. I can see a certain feeling of…satisfaction…at demolishing something that needs it.”
“Maybe you should prescribe it to some of your patients,” Tyler said.
“Ha! That would be far better than drugs, and what was the word, constructive way to express emotion.” She sighed. “Alas, I don’t think Josie would be thrilled if I had kids out tearing down her walls.”
“No, I expect not,” Tyler said, sliding against the wall, letting his body ease to the floor, his muscles happily spent. “Do you only work with the kids, you know, there at camp?”
“At this moment, yes.” Megan breathed deep and sounded as if she settled in her chair. He tried to picture her in her office, in that uncomfortable desk chair of hers. It didn’t seem to fit. “I used to work for a corporation. Just escaped it, in fact.”
“Escape sounds like the right word.” Tyler tensed. He should have known she was a city girl.
“It really is, more than you know.” She paused like he did when he had to take a break in order to stifle a memory he didn’t want to relive before continuing the conversation. “I’m here to stay now. In Hope Lake that is. Once the camp is over, I’ll open my practice up to others…of all ages.”
“Good,” he said, unable to stop that word from leaving his mouth. He wanted her to stay, even though he did his best to convince himself that he wouldn’t pull her into his mess, at least not personally.
“You, uh, want me to call you when I’m available?”
He sat forward. “You mean like…” He shook his head. “For therapy, yeah, not my style.”
“Well, at least you have friends to talk to, right? I mean, holding all that in is…well, anyway, we’re here to talk about Krista, but I’m here for you, too.”
“I don’t want therapy.”
“I meant as a friend,” Megan said, her voice barely a whisper.
He opened his mouth to say something nice, but it caught in his throat.
“Anyway, so Krista.” Megan cleared her throat, and he heard her chair adjust.
“Are you really still at work? It’s after eight.” He hit his head with his hand, clenching his jaw, wishing he didn’t keep going past the business boundaries with her.
“I see that Krista was right.”
“Right? About what?”
“You are protective…even with a stranger.”
“If you count a woman I have saved twice a stranger…I guess you could say I’m invested.”
Megan laughed, not a small giggle, but a full-blown laugh. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.
“Does that mean my protective nature doesn’t offend you?” He eased back against the wall, feeling a smile play at the corners of his mouth.
“No.” Megan slowed her breathing. “No, I guess not. Krista isn’t either, by the way. In fact, that is mostly how she remembers you, tall and protective.”
“Guess there are worse ways to be remembered.”
“I would say so,” Megan snorted. “She’s nervous.”
“About seeing me? Why?”
“Well, she doesn’t come right out and say, and if she did, I could only tell you if she gave me permission, but I believe she’s worried you’ll reject her.”
“How could I reject her? She’s the only family I have left.” Tyler rubbed a hand across his short hair, the prickling sensation something that had soothed him time and again. Though now he promised to grow it out.
“Tyler, do you remember what it felt like to be fifteen?”
Tyler thought for a moment, trying to sift through the last decade and almost a half of torturous memories. Those days seemed so carefree compared to the nightmare of his recent life. “I don’t think I rightly can, actually.”
“Well, and I guess it would be different being a guy rather than a girl, anyway.” Megan blew out her breath, making the phone crackle. “Let’s just say most fifteen-year-old girls' greatest fear is rejection: from friends, family, guys, teachers, you name it. Multiply that times at least ten for Krista. Everyone she has ever loved has left her.”
That stung. No, it ripped a gaping hole within him, then someone threw fire-hot coals in it. “Ouch.”
“I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but I’m sure you identify with that feeling.”
Tyler swallowed. “You going shrink on me again, doc?”
“No, sir. Wouldn’t think of it. I’m just reminding you that you two come from the same sort of place, and I think,” she swallowed, the sound echoing in the receiver, “that it might help you both to heal if you could open up and talk about it with her.”
Tyler grunted. How else could he respond to that?
“I suggest meeting at a neutral ground or a place she feels safe.”
“Where would that be?” Tyler slid a hand down his face, wondering if this was the right thing to do.
“In the stables, or we’ve gotten fond of ice cream at the lake. Either way, I’ll be there, at least at first, until she is comfortable.”
His chest burned at the idea of not only seeing his niece again but then having a woman he plainly had the hots for watching over the whole thing. It was too much. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
“Too late buckeroo. You’re already committed. Time to step up.”
Tyler groaned. “You don’t take it easy on people, do you?”
“Not when I know what’s best for them.” She said it so matter-of-factly that a laugh shot out from him.
“And who makes you the expert?”
“Uh, eight years of schooling and two grueling years of unpaid interning.”
Tyler couldn’t think of a comeback to that one. He pushed to a stand and began his pacing again.
“You pacing?” Megan asked, her chair squeaking.
“It helps me think,” Tyler muttered.
“Thought so. Let’s do it tomorrow, better than the stress of a future event snowballing out of control. Just get the first step over and done with.”
Tyler grunted again. The lady reminded him of his mom, stubborn and demanding, but all from a place of good.
“Your choice: ice cream or horses.” A tap-tapping came over the phone.
“You drumming your fingers?” he asked.
“Helps me think,” she retorted. “I’m thinking ice cream. You obviously know horses if you grew up on the ranch like Krista’s mom, but I’m guessing it’s been some years since you’ve been around them. Besides, as Krista says, who doesn’t like ice cream?”
“I’m guessing people who need therapy,” Tyler muttered.
Megan laughed that delightful sound again. “You’ll be fine. Just be yourself.”
Himself. He didn’t even know who that was anymore. “What time?”
“Tomorrow is Sunday, so that means Krista has the morning off. It’s perfect, don’t you think? Get it over with before it builds into a terrifying thing.”
“It’s already terrifying,” he said, but he stopped pacing. “Ten?”
“Sounds like a plan. We’ll meet at Hope Park on the Lake.”
“Okay.”
“Goodnight, Tyler. Try to get some sleep,” Megan said, and he heard her covering a yawn after she did.
“Drive safely. Have you got that spare replaced?”
“Yes, sir. Well, I’ll see you in the morning. Oh, Tyler?”
“Yeah,” he said, realizing that he didn’t want to stop talking with her and hating it.
“What’s your favorite ice cream?”
“Cookie dough, why?”
“The ice cream shop is closed. I’ll pick it up before we meet you at the park. See you at ten.”
“Goodnight, Megan,” he said, trying to stop worrying about her driving down that narrow curvy road in the dark and getting a flat again.
“Sleep well,” she said, and he swore he could hear a smile in her voice before the call ended.
“Well, this bites.” Tyler slumped onto the couch and threw back his head. He gave himself a few moments to process the conversation, after which he planned on picking up his book and reading until he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Though he never made it that far, he ended up slipping into an exhausted sleep, serenaded by the memory of beautiful laughter.
Tyler woke up to the predawn sky lightening his window. His back ached from sleeping on the couch, and he sat up to stretch it and roll his neck from side to side. Coffee. He needed coffee.
Stumbling to the kitchen, he made himself a pot, letting the rich scent slowly wake him. The kitchen was the first room in the house to receive the sunlight. His mom always said it was the best way to greet the day: the scent of coffee and bacon as the first beams of light hit the faces of those she loved the most.
He glanced at the empty table, a longing so deep it hit him in the gut with force. Would that pain ease if he looked over and saw the first ray of sunlight hitting the face of his niece? Would it be enough for her?
The coffee scalded his tongue, but he couldn’t wait. He needed that caffeine and needed to work with his hands. With over three hours before he had to leave, there was no way he would stay sane if he stewed over the maybes. He downed the rest of his coffee, scalding his throat, grabbed his tool bags by the door, and set out into the crisp morning air to tear off some more siding. If he focused, he could have the rest of the siding off before he had to leave.
As it was, he had exactly enough time to tear off the last piece, rinse off the sweat in a quick shower, and head into town. His entire being thrummed with nervous energy. Would she remember him when she saw him? Would she yell at him and blame him for leaving her?
If it was him, that’s what he would do.
On the fifteen minute drive into town, he rehearsed what he would say, but nothing sounded right. It either sounded jilted and detached or selfish and mean. He hadn’t prayed since the horrific day he lost his platoon and the Big Guy hadn’t answered his prayers then. Yet, he prayed as he pulled into the park, asking for direction, for the right words, and to know what in the world he was supposed to do.
He turned off the truck and sat glued to his seat, only his fingertips drumming the steering wheel. Noticing the movement of his fingers made him think of Megan. He looked up and saw her wave from a picnic table, the closest one to the beach and the furthest from people. Good pick. He nodded.
He could do this. The first step…and hopefully it was in the right direction.