aphrodisiac. Their daughter had been conceived that day in the hunting cabin, and it didn’t take much effort at all to recall the sweet, sizzling passion that had bound them together in far more than just a physical way.
Then Bridget’s tiny arms hung limp and her head fell onto Phoebe’s shoulder as Phoebe lifted her into her crib. She brushed a kiss across the fiery red curls as she laid the child down, and he swallowed hard, another emotion joining the riot of sensations rushing through him.
How was it possible to go from not even knowing his child existed to loving her more than he loved his own life in less than a day? He didn’t even know her, really. And yet…he did. And he would. Another shock jolted him as he realized he could imagine her five years from now—because he’d known her mother at that age as well.
Phoebe turned and left the room on nearly silent feet, and he slowly pushed himself upright. He walked to the crib and gazed down at his daughterfor a long moment.
I promise to be the best daddy I can be,
he vowed silently.
Then he followed his child’s mother out of the room. They needed to talk about the changes that were about to occur in their lives.
Five
P hoebe was already at the table in her small dining room when he came down the stairs after unpacking his duffel, removing papers from her satchel and making neat piles carefully spaced on the table. She glanced up and sent him an impersonal smile. “Time to grade math tests.”
He walked through the living room to her side, looking down at the work she was spreading out before her. “You do this often?”
“Just about every night.” She smiled wryly. “The kids complain when I give them assignments, but I really should be the one whining. Everyassignment they hand in multiplies my work by twenty-four students.” She shrugged her shoulders as she pulled out her chair and took a seat. “It’s going to get even more interesting when I start my next class. I’m taking a children’s lit class that begins in January.”
“I thought you already had a degree.”
“Yes.” She pulled out an ink pad and a stamp with a smiley face on it. “But in order to keep my teaching certificate I have to do continuing education every so often or work toward my master’s degree. The specifics vary from state to state, but the general concept is the same. You probably have to do the same thing—keep your skills current, I mean.”
“Yeah. Except now, if I were to stay in the Army, I’d be stuck behind a desk. My ability to hit a target dead center fifty times in a row isn’t quite so critical anymore.”
She bit her lip and he could see the moment when she realized that she’d reminded him of his forced change of career. Still, she continued to stare up at him, concern in her face. “Will you tell me what happened to you?”
He felt the muscles of his face tightening with the effort to keep a casual expression in place. “I have a piece of shrapnel in my leg. It’s too riskyto remove.” He tried to smile. “Plays hell with airport security.”
She didn’t return the smile. “I meant how it happened.”
He turned away, heading for the living room where he’d laid his book and reading glasses down. “One of my buddies stepped on a mine.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her flinch. “Did you see it?”
He nodded. A lump rose into his throat and refused to ease.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
He managed a nod. “Yeah, me, too.”
“You always wanted to be a soldier, didn’t you?” A fleeting smile crossed her face. “I remember when Mel and I were about eight, you and the Paylen boys from down the street recruited us to be the enemy.”
The lump in his throat dissolved as memory came flooding back, and with it came an irresistible urge to laugh. “Only that didn’t last very long once my dad found out we were launching rocks at you out of that homemade catapult.” He shook his head ruefully. “He always
Then Bridget’s tiny arms hung limp and her head fell onto Phoebe’s shoulder as Phoebe lifted her into her crib. She brushed a kiss across the fiery red curls as she laid the child down, and he swallowed hard, another emotion joining the riot of sensations rushing through him.
How was it possible to go from not even knowing his child existed to loving her more than he loved his own life in less than a day? He didn’t even know her, really. And yet…he did. And he would. Another shock jolted him as he realized he could imagine her five years from now—because he’d known her mother at that age as well.
Phoebe turned and left the room on nearly silent feet, and he slowly pushed himself upright. He walked to the crib and gazed down at his daughterfor a long moment.
I promise to be the best daddy I can be,
he vowed silently.
Then he followed his child’s mother out of the room. They needed to talk about the changes that were about to occur in their lives.
Five
P hoebe was already at the table in her small dining room when he came down the stairs after unpacking his duffel, removing papers from her satchel and making neat piles carefully spaced on the table. She glanced up and sent him an impersonal smile. “Time to grade math tests.”
He walked through the living room to her side, looking down at the work she was spreading out before her. “You do this often?”
“Just about every night.” She smiled wryly. “The kids complain when I give them assignments, but I really should be the one whining. Everyassignment they hand in multiplies my work by twenty-four students.” She shrugged her shoulders as she pulled out her chair and took a seat. “It’s going to get even more interesting when I start my next class. I’m taking a children’s lit class that begins in January.”
“I thought you already had a degree.”
“Yes.” She pulled out an ink pad and a stamp with a smiley face on it. “But in order to keep my teaching certificate I have to do continuing education every so often or work toward my master’s degree. The specifics vary from state to state, but the general concept is the same. You probably have to do the same thing—keep your skills current, I mean.”
“Yeah. Except now, if I were to stay in the Army, I’d be stuck behind a desk. My ability to hit a target dead center fifty times in a row isn’t quite so critical anymore.”
She bit her lip and he could see the moment when she realized that she’d reminded him of his forced change of career. Still, she continued to stare up at him, concern in her face. “Will you tell me what happened to you?”
He felt the muscles of his face tightening with the effort to keep a casual expression in place. “I have a piece of shrapnel in my leg. It’s too riskyto remove.” He tried to smile. “Plays hell with airport security.”
She didn’t return the smile. “I meant how it happened.”
He turned away, heading for the living room where he’d laid his book and reading glasses down. “One of my buddies stepped on a mine.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her flinch. “Did you see it?”
He nodded. A lump rose into his throat and refused to ease.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
He managed a nod. “Yeah, me, too.”
“You always wanted to be a soldier, didn’t you?” A fleeting smile crossed her face. “I remember when Mel and I were about eight, you and the Paylen boys from down the street recruited us to be the enemy.”
The lump in his throat dissolved as memory came flooding back, and with it came an irresistible urge to laugh. “Only that didn’t last very long once my dad found out we were launching rocks at you out of that homemade catapult.” He shook his head ruefully. “He always
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