BOH 8-21-07 (00178434).DOC (3 page)

world?”

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Pam Champagne

She shrugged. “I guess you could say that.”

“Have you made arrangements for his burial?”

She shut out his words. The pain in her heart was

more than she could bear.

“Cyn?” Mike persisted. “Peter’s body will be arriving

at the base soon. You have to make plans.”

“I…I can’t. Once he’s buried…” She turned toward

the window, tears dropping fast.

14

Bridge of Hope

Mike pulled into the circular drive and stopped in

front of the garage door. Cyn fumbled with her seatbelt

until he reached over and released it. The warmth of his

hand threatened to bring on more tears.

“Hey, it’s all right,” he whispered. “You need some

sleep. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

Birds chirped as if to encourage the new morning.

Cyn breathed deep of the honeysuckle-scented air and put

away her emotions as best she could while Mike fished his

keys from his pocket. Before he inserted it in the lock, the

door flew open. Her jaw dropped at the gorgeous brunette

standing on the threshold. Mike rested his hand on Cyn’s

back and urged her forward.

“Doreen, I’d like you to meet Cyn. She’ll be staying

with Katy and me for a while.”

Cyn’s nose twitched at the smell of burning wax. A

glance into the living room confirmed her suspicion. A

bottle of wine sat between two glasses on the mission-

style coffee table. On both sides of the couch, matching

end tables held round pink rose-scented candles,

providing the only light in the room. She didn’t need the

scowl on Doreen’s face to figure out she’d ruined their

plans.

Mike flipped the overhead light on and blew out the

candles. “Sorry you had to spend the night. Everything all

right with Katy?”

“Of course. We get along great.”

Cyn stared transfixed at Doreen’s hand curled

around Mike’s arm. The woman’s red nails became

splotches of blood on his BDUs. She hyperventilated.

15

Pam Champagne

Mike fought the panic welling in his own lungs. Cyn’s

eyes grew wide as she gasped for air. He recognized an

anxiety attack. Shaking off Doreen’s hand, he rushed to

her side and grasped her shoulders. “Take a deep breath

and let it out slowly. That’s right. You’re doing fine.”

Putting his arm under her knees, he picked her up and

carried her to the couch. “That’s it. Slow and deep. I’ll get

some water.” After one look at Cyn’s pale face, he took off

for the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of water from the

refrigerator and returned to a nightmare.

Doreen loomed over Cyn, her face twisted with anger.

“You think this will work? Mike’s smart. He’ll see right

through your phony act.”

Cyn began to gasp again and shrank against the

couch cushions. “I…I’m not…can’t breathe…”

Mike exploded. He strode to Doreen’s side. “That’s

enough! You have no idea what’s happening here.”

His faithful neighbor and babysitter drew herself to

full height, hands on her voluptuous hips. “I know a scam

when I see one. This,” she pointed a finger at Cyn,

“woman has managed to worm her way into your home.”

Mike’s fists clenched. He had no one to blame but

himself for this. He’d known, almost from day one that

Doreen had more on her agenda than just taking care of

his daughter. He should have nipped it in the bud, but

he’d procrastinated, happy with the convenience of a

babysitter right next door. “Listen carefully, Doreen, I’m

only going to say this once. This woman’s husband was

killed three days ago in Iraq.”

The shock, and perhaps regret, that came and went

on Doreen’s face didn’t soften his anger. She directed her

attention to Cyn. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“Look at me.” The guilt-ridden expression on

Doreen’s face when she turned to him made him sick. He

had no pity for someone who’d used his daughter as a

means of worming her way into his affections. “I don’t

need you to look after Katy. I’ll drop a check in your

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Bridge of Hope

mailbox.”

He went down on one knee to hand the water to Cyn.

Concerned at her chalk-white face, he dismissed Doreen

from his mind. “How are you feeling?”

With shaky hands, she held the bottle and swallowed

a mouthful of water. Tears dripped from the corners of

her eyes. “I hurt.”

Christ. Perhaps she should have spent the night in

the hospital. “Where?”

She shook her head, blond hair swinging from side to

side. “Peter’s never coming back,” she managed to choke

out before she began to cry in earnest. Twisting her body,

she turned to face the back of the couch.

Mike relived the pain she was experiencing. He sat

on the edge of the cushions and rubbed her back, trying

not to notice the bones protruding in her shoulders. “Cry

until there are no tears left. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

She was so thin. Peter had only been gone a few days

so he doubted that was the reason. He suspected

loneliness might be the culprit. No family and no friends

that she’d spoke about. Even with a husband who was

crazy about her, she needed friends, other outlets.

Military wives usually banded together. The loss of

someone else’s husband was like losing one of their own.

Why hadn’t she made friends with the other wives?

Mike didn’t realize Cyn had stopped crying until her

soft, even breathing dragged him out of his thoughts.

Running his hand over her silky hair, he tucked a loose

strand behind her ear and covered her with an afghan.

He rounded the corner into the kitchen and stiffened.

“Why are you still here?”

The smile on Doreen’s red lips slipped away. “I need

to talk to you, Mike…to apologize. I don’t know what

came over me to behave like that.”

Mike cocked an eyebrow. “No? I’m not dumb,

Doreen.” He waved a hand toward the living room. “Wine

and candles? I suppose you wanted to sit down and talk

about Katy’s homework.”

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Pam Champagne

Her gaze skittered away. “I never tried to hide my

feelings. I’d hoped—”

Mike cut to the chase. “I’m sorry for not laying my

cards on the table from day one. I’m not looking to get

involved with a woman—any woman. It’s nothing

personal.” For something to do, he picked up the sponge

on the sink and wiped the countertops.
Take the hint,

Doreen. Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.

“Oh. How about the grieving widow?”

He tossed the sponge and swung around. “Spit it

out.” She shifted her position and brushed at her skirt

before meeting his eyes. “You’re an adult. You know what

can happen when a man and woman share living space

for any length of time. The minute she realizes what a

catch you are, she’ll be all over you.”

Mike’s temper sizzled. The woman was either dense

or more determined than he’d realized. Either way, he’d

had enough. “Not another word. Please go.” He held up

his hand when she opened her mouth to argue.

His shoulders slumped with relief when the front

door slammed with enough force to shake the pictures on

the walls. He kneaded his temples, in an attempt to stave

off a tension headache.

“Daddy?”

Mustering a smile, he squatted on the floor and held

out his arms to catch the tiny body launching at him.

“What is it sweet pea? Why aren’t you asleep?” Smelling

his daughter’s soapy sweetness momentarily righted his

world.

“Heard yelling. Is Doreen mad?”

Mike chuckled. “You could say that. She won’t be

taking care of you any more, Katy,” he said and braced

himself for a tantrum.

She snuggled closer. “Good. I don’t like her.”

Mike lurched to his feet and picked up his drowsy-

eyed daughter. “What?” How had he misread the signals?

“I thought you and Doreen were friends.”

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Bridge of Hope

“Can I have a drink of water?”

“Sure, then it’s back to bed.” He stuffed his curiosity

about Katy’s remark and thoughts of Cyn sleeping in the

living room to the back of his mind. Tomorrow he’d tell

Katy about their new houseguest.

Using one hand, he filled a small Dixie cup with

water. “Here you go.”

She drained the cup and handed it back to him.

“Doreen was only nice to me when you were here. Mostly,

she told me to stay in my room and play.”

Mike clenched his jaw. He wanted to pound the

counter. His fury diminished with Katy’s next words.

“Who’s that lady sleeping on the couch?”

He forgot about Doreen. So much for his plan to

explain Cyn’s presence in the morning. “I’ll tell you all

about her when I tuck you in.”

“’Kay.”

Cyn opened her eyes and wondered where she was.

She lay on a brown corduroy couch. A jackhammer

pounded in her head. Her eyes were swollen from all the

tears she’d shed. Awareness returned with the force of

white water in the Hope River during the spring.
Peter

was dead. Gone from her life forever.
Memories

bombarded her senses. Standing on the Hope River

Bridge, one leg on the rail.

Her body trembled. Oh, God. Had she really thought

about killing herself? Shame battled grief for a front row

seat. “Why are you crying?”

Startled, Cyn opened her eyes. Turning her head, she

came face-to-face with a little girl sitting crossed-legged

on the floor. Mike’s daughter regarded her with a serious

expression way too serious for a child.

“I’m not. See?” Cyn smiled and fought the desire to

reach over and stroke her hair. “You must be Katy.”

Blond curls bobbed as she shook her head. “And

you’re Mrs. Jenks.”

“That’s a mouthful. Call me Cyn.”

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Pam Champagne

“And you’re gonna stay with us.”

Dread trickled through Cyn’s veins. “Guess so. For a

while anyway.”

“Do you like to play games?”

Mike walked into the room. “Katy, don’t bother Mrs.

Jenks.”

Cyn dropped her gaze unable to deal with the pity

she knew she’d see in Mike’s eyes.

“She said to call her Cyn.”

“Breakfast’s ready. Hope you’re both hungry. Cyn?”

She forced her gaze to his warm smile.

As if reading her mind, he said, “Bathroom’s the

second door on the right in the hall. There’s another

upstairs if you prefer. We’ll be waiting in the kitchen.”

Cyn hurried to the bathroom, splashed cold water on

her face and smoothed her unruly hair as best she could.

A tube of toothpaste lay on the sink. Squeezing a small

amount on her finger, she rubbed it over her teeth, rinsed

her mouth and made a beeline toward the smell of

cooking bacon. Katy had been so open and trusting. She

looked forward to spending time with the little girl.

Mike leaned against the counter with a spatula in his

hand as she entered the kitchen.

Katy sat at the table drinking orange juice. She

patted the seat next to her. “Sit beside me.”

“Sure. I’m starving.”

“Me, too. Hurry up, Daddy.”

Mike pointed his spatula at them. “Just hold your

horses, sweet pea.”

The hunger pains turned to nausea when Mike set a

platter of pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon on the

table.

“Don’t even think about it,” Mike warned from across

the table.

Cyn thrust her chin forward. “Think about what? I’m

not very hungry.”

“You’ll eat if I have to spoon the food down your

throat.”

20

Bridge of Hope

Cyn pushed back her chair. Shit. Having an

argument with Mike about whether or not to eat

breakfast would set a terrible example for his daughter.

Katy giggled behind her napkin. “He says that to me

all the time.” She winked and cupped her hand to her

mouth to whisper, “He won’t do it. I promise.”

Cyn sighed and looked at Mike. He grinned and his

green eyes twinkled with suppressed laughter. She

couldn’t help but smile back. Forcing an enthusiasm she

didn’t feel, she spooned some scrambled eggs and bacon

onto her plate. “No school today, Katy?”

“Today’s Saturday. Did you forget?”

The heavy weight of depression settled on her

shoulders. She’d totally lost track of time since the Army

officers had knocked on her door with the news about

Peter. “I guess I did.”

Mike poured a glass of orange juice and slid it across

the table in her direction. “I have the weekend off so I

thought perhaps we could arrange for the movers to bring

your belongings here.”

She coughed a few times and cleared her throat.

“Here? There’s no room. I’ll put it in storage. Or better

yet, I’ll scout around today for an apartment.” She’d never

be able to return to the apartment she’d shared with

Peter.

“That’s not part of the agreement, Cynthia. I have

space above the garage.”

Cynthia?
Whoa, the man was ticked off. Looked like

Mike Spencer was determined to stick to the deal they