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Authors: Cindy Spencer Pape

Tags: #The Calendar Men Series

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BOOK: Thankful for You
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“She is.” Elsie lightly touched the fabric of the seat. “I feel like I should wear gloves to touch her. What is she?”

“1929 Cadillac.” He doffed his cap and hopped back into the driver’s seat.

Sig sat down on the wide back seat next to Elsie. “We’ve been honored. Ray hasn’t brought Sylvia out for a few years for the parade. Usually she goes to only the ritziest antique car shows.”

Ray shrugged. It was clear the brothers-in-law were friends. “Well, can’t show the family riding in anything but the best. This’ll be her last outing for a while. No Sun Belt shows this winter.”

“Mindy and the baby are both doing all right? How about Buttons?” Elsie didn’t know Sig’s sister and her husband well, but she’d groomed their Lhasa Apso for the last year or so.

“All doing fine.” Ray beamed. “It’s getting close, though. Mindy’s pretty tired.”

“I’ll bet.” Elsie couldn’t even begin to imagine how exhausting it must be.

“Your mom sends her best from the Bahamas,” Ray told Sig. “She also said to thank Elsie for taking pity on your sorry ass, and she’s sorry she can’t be here.”

Sig rolled his eyes at Elsie. “Be glad she’s not. She’d drive you crazy.”

“Oh? I don’t think I’ve ever actually met your mother.” Which wasn’t impossible, even in such a small town, but it did strike her as rather odd. “Why would she drive me crazy?”

Ray laughed. “Because you’re with him. Mom Nowicki wants to see her angel married. Like, yesterday. She’d probably latch onto you like a lamprey.”

Sig grunted. “It’s all your fault. Yours and Mindy’s. Now that you’re having a baby, she’s decided she wants more grandchildren. All at once. You’ve turned her into a maniac.”

“Not my problem. I’m doing my part.” Ray faced forward as the fire truck and other emergency vehicles turned on their sirens to signal the beginning of the parade. He said something else over his shoulder, but Elsie couldn’t hear it.

“It must be nice to have a sibling,” Elsie said to Sig. “I’m an only child.”

He leaned close to be heard over the sirens. “I didn’t always think so when we were younger, but yeah. Mindy’s okay. I missed her a lot while I was in the Army, but she made out fine without me. I’m glad life is working out for her.”

There was absolutely no trace of envy in his fond tone. What must that be like, to love someone enough to not resent their happiness at all? Elsie had once thought she had that with Gary, until he’d started criticizing her every time she had a success or felt good about herself. “It’s good that she and your mom were there when you needed them.”

“Mostly.” The car started moving and Sig slid up to sit on the upholstered back of the seat before lending her a hand to do the same. “The only problem is that once they started taking care of me, they haven’t figured out how to stop. I’m as well as I’m going to get. It’s time for them to let things go. Thank heavens for Mindy’s baby—they’ll finally have someone else to focus all their fussing on.”

The car pulled onto the street and the parade officially began. Behind them, the high school band played a patriotic song and the crowds cheered as Sig waved at them. Several veterans snapped salutes. Sig returned them with easy grace. No one watching would see how uncomfortable he was with all this attention.

“Wave,” he said, nudging her. “Try not to look like I kidnapped you, all right? I don’t want to end the night in jail.”

Elsie laughed and let go of her thoughts. This was Sig’s hour. She could mull over her own poor life choices later. She put her game face on and waved.

Sig thanked his basic training sergeant for teaching him to stand—or in this case, sit—at attention no matter what. That ability got him through the parade, along with the morale boost he got from having Elsie waving and smiling beside him. He was so damn glad she’d taken pity on him and said yes. Too bad pity wasn’t what he wanted from her. He’d done the pity fuck thing and wasn’t ever going there again—not even for Elsie.

Not for the first time, he wondered who the hell had damaged her so badly. She never talked about her life in Chicago, but it didn’t take a shrink to figure out that she’d come here for a fresh start. It was also clear that she needed a support structure. He’d watched her interact with Andrea. It was clear that Sig wasn’t the only one Elsie had kept at arm’s length. It warmed him that the brave smile she kept on through the whole thing was for him. When they were seated in the grandstand watching the bands and floats go by, he took the time to admire the curve of her calves and the snug fit of her navy skirt. She’d left her wavy, shoulder-length hair loose today, held back from her face with a simple navy headband. Normally confined in a ponytail, her hair always looked soft and sexy, but down, it was downright irresistible. It took all Sig’s control to keep from sliding his fingers through the silky strands.

About five minutes after they settled in the stand, Elsie’s posture began to relax. Her smile brightened and lost the stiffness about the corners. Sig took note of what she was watching—ah, the animal shelter float. No big surprise there. Her furry and feathered friends were the only ones she let beneath her armor.

“You should get a dog,” he blurted. “They’re great security for a person living alone.”

Elsie watched the float with a wistful sigh. “I’ve thought about it. I’ve always wanted one. But there’s no yard to speak of behind the shop.”

Crap, he’d forgotten that. She lived in the flat upstairs. His blood surged as he imagined her there. What did it look like? All soft and feminine? He imagined her naked, spread out on a pink lace comforter.

With a stifled groan, he crossed his legs. Damn it, spending all this time with Elsie was dangerous.

“Is your leg bothering you?” She leaned close enough that he could feel her breath on his cheek, aggravating his erection.

“A little,” he said. “I’ll be fine.” That might have been the biggest load of shit he’d ever uttered.
Fine
wasn’t looking likely anywhere in his near future. Tolerable, he could manage. Not too bad, maybe. Fine would involve things like a productive job and Elsie naked beneath him.

Holy shit
. He had to get his mind out of the gutter, or the whole town was going to see him, hard as a bayonet. He focused his gaze out to the street and tried to pay attention to the 4-H club’s equestrian team. He recognized a girl, about fourteen, as the daughter of one of his high school classmates. Great. Now he felt old as well as frustrated. Coming home reminded him daily that time was passing him by, while others lived their lives—marriage, careers, families.
I’m trying, damn it. At least I managed to get Elsie to go out with me
. Yeah, it was lame, but it was the best defense he had against the despair that had hovered over him since his injury.

Before he could get any more caught up in that, Elsie’s soft fingers slid into his. Sig damn near swallowed his tongue as lust and something else swamped his system. He held her hand tightly as they watched the rest of the spectacle.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Elsie said as they walked from the grandstand to the chamber of commerce building, where there was a cocktail reception before the dinner. “I love this town. Everyone has been so friendly.”

“When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to get away.” Sig paused to shake hands every few yards, chatting briefly with people he’d known all his life. While it could be intrusive, he’d learned to appreciate the support—even when they started teasing him and Elsie about dating. “Sometimes I remember why.”

“It’s all right. We discussed this.” She tucked her arm in his. “Actually, I don’t mind. It takes a load off, having people think I’m out of circulation. Although I hope they don’t all turn on me at some point later, thinking I ditched the town hero.”

“So don’t ditch me.” Sig wished it was that easy.

“We’d have to have a relationship first anyway.” She sighed. “And you deserve someone way less broken than I am.”

Sig snorted. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got you beat in that category.”

“Only on the outside,” she muttered.

“The outside counts with a lot of people—and trust me, I’m not making up my stories about PTSD. I’ve got plenty of mess on the inside. Maybe we’re a matched set—chipped but functional, and perfect for each other.” God, that would be incredible if it were true. He wanted her more today than he’d ever wanted anything in his life again—maybe even to walk again after the grenade had smashed his hip.

“I wish.”

I wish, too
. Before he could pounce on her wistful words, she was being hugged by a customer who followed them all the way to the Chamber building, chattering away. Once inside, they were caught in the social whirl and it was time for Sig to earn his keep. He thanked each person he met for contributing to the widows and orphans fund. He answered way too many personal questions and he spent a bit of time chatting with a guy who’d lost his leg in a motorcycle accident. PTSD wasn’t only for soldiers. He gave the younger man as many tips as he could, including the name of a good therapist in the next town. Through the rest of the reception and the dinner that followed, he remained on autopilot, conscious almost entirely of Elsie. She played the role as well as he did—only someone close to either of them would be able to tell how much they both hated being on display.

Finally, dinner was over—Sig couldn’t even remember what he’d eaten—and it was time for his speech. He limped over to the podium and looked out at the audience, making eye contact with anyone who didn’t shy away. There were ten tables of ten seats, and almost none were empty, so a hundred souls had come out for the cause. That gave him a place to start, as he outlined the organization that would benefit: a non-profit fund to take care of soldiers’ families when the insurance wasn’t enough.

“I got involved with this group through a dare, as most of you have heard by now. One of my buddies from the VA hospital agreed to model and he challenged me to as well. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” He again worked for eye contact, something that was growing easier since he’d been doing these talks. “And before you ask, yes,
way
harder than my run-in with the grenade. That was over in seconds. By the time I realized it was happening, it was over, and there I was in a hospital bed. It goes like that, when disaster strikes. The incident is over in a heartbeat, but the ramifications linger—sometimes forever. For someone like me, that means physical scars. It was awful to find the courage to have my photo taken, but it was a big step toward my recovery.” There was a laugh and some feminine hoots as his calendar photo appeared on the screen behind his head, part of the slide show Sig had provided on a flash drive.

He went on, explaining how the organization worked and how it helped families torn apart by loss. “For someone like Jessica Noble, it means growing up without a father.” A photograph of a little girl on crutches flashed on the screen. “Jessica has special needs, and with four kids, her mom was struggling to pay for food and housing, let alone special shoes, physical therapy, and everything else she needs. They didn’t even have a car to get to and from Jessica’s appointments. Tonight, you’re helping the Nobles and families like them do more than just survive, but to
live
. Thanks to the Hero Family Fund, Jessica gets to all of her appointments
and
plays on a handicapped soccer team. Donors like you bought her uniform and equipment, as well as providing the family with a reliable used car. Survival is easy, relatively speaking. It’s the most basic instinct of any animal. But living is a lot more difficult. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for helping children like Jessica and their families to have the wherewithal to live—even if their lives will never be the same.”

A thunderous wave of applause filled the room, as the audience stood. Glad that he’d touched them, Sig only had eyes for one person. Elsie stood, along with everyone else on the dais, applauding madly. Sig rejoined her and looked down into her tear-filled eyes.

“Beautiful,” she mouthed. Once they were seated, she clung to his hand again and even leaned in closer. Had he finally broken through her defenses? His breath quickened. The event was nearly over. When he walked her home, would she ask him in? That was probably too much to hope for. Maybe she’d at least agree to another date.

They sat in silence through a few more speeches and then did the mingling and hand-shaking thing one more time as everyone started to leave. Finally, they were back outside. The autumn sun had set, chilling the soft breeze. Sig tentatively wrapped his arm around Elsie’s waist to draw her in close to the heat of his body. His hopes soared when she leaned easily against him. “You were wonderful tonight. Not only your speech, but even the things you say to random people who come talk to you. You have a gift, Sig.”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it a gift. I talk to people the way I’d like them to talk to me.”

“Which is empathy, which not everyone has.”

Great. Now she was talking about him like a kindly uncle. If she called him sweet, he was liable to puke.

His reaction must have shown on his face, because she chuckled. “I don’t mean you’re all touchy-feely-girly about it. Talking to you is so easy. You understand that everyone has problems and you don’t judge.”

“That’s called being a rational and decent human being.” Why did she—hell, why did everyone—insist on making him into some kind of role model? He was a guy like any other. Nothing more, nothing less.

She snorted a laugh. “Right. Well, you’d be surprised how many people out there
aren’t
decent, rational human beings—especially ones who’d cover their friend’s body with their own when a grenade was about to go off.”

“I keep telling everyone that was instinct, not intent. I shouldn’t get credit for something I didn’t even know I was doing until it was over.” Hearing his voice rise, he took a deep breath. “It wasn’t a decision. I saw the grenade and tackled Gomez. There was no heroism about it. I was diving for cover.”

“But you didn’t
just
dive.” She turned to face him without dislodging his arm from around her waist. She tapped his nose with her finger. “You covered your friend. Without even thinking about saving your own ass first. That
instinct
is the difference between being a decent person and being a heroic one.”

BOOK: Thankful for You
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ads

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