Lethal Balance: Sons of the Survivalist: 2 Page 12

  Her very own room.

  * * *

  Arm curled around his tiny daughter’s shoulders, Caz guided her out of the house and chatted about the chickens as they crossed to Mako’s house. Rain drizzled down, more of a fine mist than a drenching. He was used to trotting around in the cold, but he probably should’ve grabbed her a jacket. She was a California girl. He’d have to be more aware.

  Of the weather. Of her worries.

  Her too-slender body was trembling lightly. Dios, how could he make her feel comfortable? Settled? He couldn’t. Not all at once. No matter how his instincts screamed at him to try.

  “Mija, if you want, we can just say hello to everyone, then if you want to go back to the house… How about you squeeze my fingers twice if you want to leave? We don’t have to stay to eat.” He considered. So many new things coming at her in the next month or so. “Whenever you need to escape something, you can use squeezing fingers method to let me know. Does that make sense?”

  “If I want to go back to my room, then I squeeze your fingers. Two times.” Her tense shoulders relaxed. “Okay.”

  They walked across Mako’s deck and into the dining area. Caz sniffed. “Smells like fried chicken.”

  When her stomach rumbled, he grinned.

  The open arrangement of the big cabin let him see that everyone was seated on the massive wraparound sectional. As Caz and Regan crossed the room, everyone rose—and Regan stopped dead.

  “We’re here, as you can see,” Caz nodded at his brothers and at Audrey who stood beside Gabe. Her gray T-shirt was the color of her eyes and the quote on the shirt said: Never trust an atom. They make up everything. The woman was a nerd and proud of it.

  JJ stood near the end of the sectional. With her autumn-colored hair and wearing a golden thermal under a blue and brown flannel shirt, she seemed to warm the entire room. Warm him.

  Her expression as she watched him was unreadable—something she did when she was feeling uncertain. She still didn’t know what to think or do about him.

  That made two of them.

  Her gaze softened when she looked at Regan.

  Under his arm, he felt Regan stiffen with obvious anxiety. Yes, they were all staring at her.

  Tucking her closer, he bent and started pointing out people. “That’s your Uncle Gabe—he’s a police chief—and that’s his woman, Audrey, who runs the library.”

  Sensitive to Regan’s worry, Gabe sat on the old barn wood coffee table Mako had built. “We’re glad you’re here, Regan. Caz needs someone to keep him in line.”

  Caz played along with an indignant “Bro, please,” back.

  It took his daughter a second, and then she giggled.

  Trust Gabe to know how to lighten the mood. Even in combat zones, he’d managed to coax smiles out of his men.

  Audrey smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Regan.”

  Biting her lip, Regan nodded.

  Continuing the introductions, Caz motioned toward his other brother. “That’s your Uncle Bull. When he was your age, he chose the name, because he wanted to grow up to be as big as a moose. A male moose is called a bull.”

  Bull rubbed his shaved scalp and gave her a grin. “It worked, right? You think I got big enough?”

  She nodded solemnly before frowning up at Caz. “How come he got to pick his name?”

  Hmm. This wasn’t the time to explain how Mako had stolen them from the foster home—with the boys’ consent. “Ah, Mako spent his life in the military, so he let us pick soldier names.”

  “Oh.” She considered. “I like my name.”

  “That’s what I told Mako. I kept my own name,” Gabe said. “You don’t have to change yours. Regan is a great name.”

  Her happy smile turned every adult in the room to putty.

  Caz turned to JJ. “Mija, that’s JJ. She’s a police officer and works for Gabe.”

  “Hi, Regan,” JJ said in her husky voice. “Welcome home. You had an awfully long trip. Are you getting a little hungry yet?”

  Regan’s stomach growled in answer.

  Or maybe it was his. “If she’s not, I am. Tell me it’s fried chicken I’m smelling.”

  “You got the nose, bro,” Bull rumbled. He grinned at Regan. “We used to make it for him on his birthdays. He’d come running from wherever in the forest he was.”

  When Bull moved forward, like a grizzly lumbering through the woods, Regan retreated behind Caz.

  Ah well, it was going to take time. Especially since no one, including him, knew exactly what she’d endured. They’d have to move carefully. The first couple of times Caz had touched her—ruffling her hair or touching her shoulder—she’d winced away. His guess was she’d learned to be wary—perhaps Crystal hadn’t been careful about her men—but hadn’t suffered systematic abuse.

  The thought of anyone hurting this girl—his girl—made him want to reach for his knives.

  Gabe rose and put an arm around Audrey. “C’mon, people. Let’s start getting some food on the table.”

  As everyone moved, Regan stood frozen until JJ held her hand out. “Hey, how about you help me get silverware on the table.”

  After a second, Regan took her hand. “Okay.”

  As the two walked into the dining area, hand-in-hand, Caz glanced at the window. Still raining. Odd, because it felt as if the sun had come out.

  An hour later, dinner finished, kitchen clean, everyone returned to the living room for drinks, for talk, and for music. JJ ran upstairs to her part of the house to grab a plate of cookies she’d baked. In her limited experience with children, she’d never met a child who didn’t like chocolate chip cookies.

  Music greeted her as she walked into the living room.

  Of course, music. Since her arrival nearly two weeks ago, she’d heard the guys singing together nearly every day. She’d never met anyone like them. It seemed growing up in a cabin with no electricity and long dark winters meant they’d learned to entertain themselves. Since Mako had loved music, his boys learned to sing and play various instruments.

  With Regan beside him, Caz sat at the near end of the sectional, playing a djembe—a skin-covered goblet drum. He’d told JJ he liked the sound of a handcrafted drum.

  Beside Audrey, Gabe strummed a guitar. Bull had a bass guitar that suited him well. Bass voice, bass guitar.

  As the guys started playing “Lonely People” by America, JJ had the urge to run back upstairs and fetch her flute, to join in. But, although she’d started on the flute at Regan’s age and played in quartets in high school, this kind of living room jamming was far more…intimate.

  She’d stick to playing just for herself. It was her way of coping with loneliness. With stress…and even anger. Hadn’t Mom said how thankful she was that JJ played the flute instead of walloping other children?

  Her mom had known her well.

  Maybe someday she’d try jamming with the guys. Meantime, she set the cookies where Caz and Regan could reach them then sat down on the other side of the girl.

  As the men sailed into the chorus, Audrey winked at Regan and joined in for the finish. She had a beautiful soprano.

  “Wow,” Regan said under her breath.

  Caz smiled at his girl. “I bet you’ve watched The Jungle Book, haven’t you?”

  Regan nodded.

  “Perfect.” He grinned at Bull who put on a fake scowl.

  Gabe laughed and told Regan, “Caz and I learned this song so we could give Bull a hard time after he’d busted an ankle and was just sitting around at home.” With a few quick strums, he started singing “The Bare Necessities.”

  Audrey burst into giggles.

  To JJ’s delight, Regan was whispering the words under her breath. JJ manned-up and whispered, “It’s one of my favorite movies. C’mon, we can do this.”

  Smiling at the little girl, JJ added her voice to the singing, and a second later, a high little voice joined them.

  Caz shot JJ a grateful look that made warmth rise in her cheeks, and
then he winked at his daughter.

  JJ’s heart simply melted.

  After the music, Caz had taken his exhausted daughter home and fumbled through what would someday be a bedtime routine. Regan had managed her shower and shampooing her own long hair. The women had stocked her bathroom with everything a girl might want, bless them, including shampoo with conditioner in it. And a wide-tooth comb.

  They’d also gotten her soft flannel pajamas. One set with kittens. The other had snowflakes and featured some female from a Disney movie he’d not seen. Frozen?

  She’d chosen the kitten jammies and pulled on fluffy slippers. Those women hadn’t missed a thing.

  In the living room, as he combed the tangles out of her hair, he read to her from the library book Audrey had left on the coffee table. Harry Potter. When he talked Regan into taking turns, each of them reading a page, she did damned well.

  After she’d climbed into her bed—with the stuffed white cat—he reminded her he was just upstairs and to yell if she needed him. Such big eyes. So lost.

  “Sleep tight, mija,” he murmured, kissed the top of her head, and tucked the covers tighter around her.

  There was a nightlight in the bathroom, he’d noticed, and as he turned the light out, he saw there was another one in the bedroom. A prancing unicorn glowed a soft white.

  As he pulled the door not quite shut, he heard a whispered, “Night, Papá.”

  Papá. He walked into the living room, rubbing away the burning in his eyes.

  Unsettled, he took a beer from the fridge and walked outside onto his deck. The rain had stopped, and the air held a bite, warning that snow would arrive in a week or so. The shoulder he’d busted rock-climbing as a kid agreed with the forecast.

  Not yet, though. Above, the clear dark sky showed only wispy clouds flitting past the quarter moon. Over the lake, the misty fog glowed in the thin moonlight.

  Leaning an arm on the railing, he breathed in, trying to pull the silence of the night inside him. To soothe the storm of emotions in his heart.

  He had a daughter.

  He’d thought he’d accepted the fact. But bringing her home, seeing her with his brothers, and tucking her into bed had turned knowledge into living reality.

  Dios, he didn’t know how to raise a little girl. He rubbed his neck. Better him than his brothers. They’d be more at a loss than he was.

  Then again, they wouldn’t have gotten their asses into a fix like this.

  A fix.

  A gift.

  Both.

  He heard soft footsteps and turned.

  Someone walked across the compound, up from the dock on the lake. Too short for Gabe or Bull. He tensed, preparing to charge the trespasser, then remembered Gabe and Bull weren’t the only people living at the Hermitage these days. Which woman?

  The curly hair identified her—and his fingers itched to run through the soft strands.

  “JJ. You are out late,” he said, knowing his voice would carry to her in the quiet air.

  Halfway to Mako’s house, she looked around.

  He’d be invisible against the darkness of the log wall behind him, so he walked down the steps and across the damp grass. “Forgive me for startling you.”

  “It’s all right.” Her face was a pale shape in the darkness. “How’s Regan doing? The first night in a strange house must be rough.”

  “She’s a real trouper.” He could hear the pride in his voice. Already. “Thank you—all of you—for making her room so special. There was much I wouldn’t have known to get. She was delighted with everything.”

  “We had a wonderful time shopping for her.” JJ smiled. “Next time, we’ll take her so she can pick out what she actually likes.”

  “She took the stuffed cat to bed with her. Audrey said you picked it out…so she’d have something to cuddle in a strange place.”

  He had a feeling this woman had a heart that understood loneliness.

  “I’m glad it helped.” Her wide smile pulled at him. “You know, she’ll soon have you talked into getting a real cat.”

  “I don’t think so.” Although a pet wasn’t a bad idea. Perhaps one to help keep her safe. “Maybe I’ll get her a big dog though.” Big enough to take on a brown bear, a cougar, a—

  “Poor Cazador. You’re going to have a time of it.” Her laugh was adorable. Low and husky, like her singing voice.

  “I liked hearing you sing today.” It had been the first time—and they all knew she’d joined them simply to get Regan over her worries.

  “It was fun.” She looked up at him, eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

  “Sí, it was.” Unable to resist, he put an arm around her and pulled her closer. Lowered his head, giving her time to object.

  She didn’t. Her lips softened under his, and he pulled her tightly against him, taking her mouth in a slow, seductive kiss. One that made the world fade away. When she melted against him, he stroked down her spine, over the sweet curve of her ass, and back up. Her small breasts against his chest begged for his attention. He licked her lips, tasted chocolate—no wonder women liked it so much—and went for another kiss.

  Then, before being tempted past reason, he pulled back. Studied her face and found desire. He wasn’t the only one tempted.

  There was also confusion. Match again.

  He saw the rueful quirk of her lips as she said, “Thank you. More would be a…bad idea.”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” He had a child to protect from the world, as if anyone could. He absolutely could not add another string to his heart—especially not a law officer. The career was as risky as that of a soldier.

  With regret, he ran a finger down her cheek. Her skin was damp from the mist, fragrant from a shower. “Sleep well, princesa.”

  “You, too, Doc.”

  Unable to help himself, he watched until she was safely inside Mako’s cabin.

  Chapter Ten

  If you are short of everything but the enemy, you are in the combat zone. ~ Murphy’s Laws of Combat Operations

  * * *

  This wasn’t like any school she’d ever seen. Monday morning, Regan followed her father toward the school building from where he’d parked his car in the round drive. The school grounds were a couple of blocks from downtown—and not even on a real street. The road was gravel.

  “Are you sure this is a school?” She motioned to the four tiny buildings and one slightly bigger one. “What are those?”

  “The smaller ones hold the classrooms. The big one has the multipurpose room and administration.” Papá eyed the buildings. “They’re portable rooms and pretty old. What with the growing population, the town council needs to find options for a better school.”

  The buildings circled an open area—what must be the playground—since there sure wasn’t any place to play in the surrounding forest. The grounds were the only flat spot in the area. To the right, the land went uphill fast. On the left, it was really steep going downhill.

  “Doc, it’s good to see you.” The man waiting by one door was a bit taller than Papá, and his short brown hair was going gray. He looked friendly enough.

  “And you.” Papá shook his hand. “Principal Jones, this is my daughter, Regan.”

  My daughter. That still made her feel funny. Bubbly-like, inside.

  “It’s good to meet you, Regan.” The principal had a nice smile. Like he meant it. “Let’s get some paperwork done, and we’ll go to your classroom.”

  The boring stuff didn’t take too long—less than she’d had to go through whenever she and Mom moved.

  But…fuck. When she followed Papá into her new classroom, the place felt weird. In the corner, four older kids were sitting at computers, and she thought she was in the wrong room. Only there were kids her age doing something around a table near the front. But there were littler kids—maybe in third grade—at desks lined up between the two small windows.

  Principal Jones was over talking to the woman who must be the teacher. The teacher wasn’
t pretty and was older than Papá. Still, she didn’t look mean. Her brown hair was even curlier than JJ’s, kinda squiggly, and her nose was pointed. She wasn’t all dressed up, just wearing black jeans and a blue shirt with buttons.

  The teacher and the principal stopped talking and looked at Regan.

  She inched back, wanting to hide behind Papá, but the kids would think she was a scaredy-cat. She could feel their eyes.

  Papá put his hand on her shoulder, the way he did, not to push her around or anything, but like holding her hand only it was her shoulder. She was too old to hold hands, really, but this was okay. Nice.

  She looked up. “Why are there older kids?”

  “Since this is such a small school, there are only three teachers for kindergarten to eighth grade. Children from different grades share the room. Your room has third, fourth, and fifth graders in it.” He shrugged. “Even with three grades together, there are only about twelve to fourteen children in each classroom.”

  The woman came over, and Papá shook her hand. “Regan, this is Mrs. Wilner, your teacher. She’s been an instructor for a while and knows how to keep things interesting.”

  Regan started to nod and then remembered what Audrey had said. How she’d said it. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Wilner.”

  “Thank you, Regan. I look forward to getting to know you.”

  Papá went down on one knee and took Regan’s hands in his. “I’m working in the clinic today, but one of us—me, Gabe, or Bull will pick you up when school lets out. Then you can do your homework in the clinic until it closes.”

  She saw two girls exchange glances and recognized their expressions: The new girl can’t even walk by herself for two blocks.

  Today it was true—she wasn’t quite sure which building held the clinic. He should’ve showed her. Should’ve walked with her so she knew. Her voice came out ugly. “Yeah, okay. But I’ll walk tomorrow. By myself.”

  His jaw got all hard, then he nodded. “We will compromise. This week, you will put up with one of us picking you up. Next week you may walk on your own, yes?”