Standing Guard. Valerie Hansen
point. “Yes,” Lindy said. Her chin jutted. “Ben was my husband. And he was an investment counselor, not an accountant.”
“Sorry. I lost my only brother about a year ago.”
“I know. How are his kids doing?”
“Really well, thanks.” He finally smiled, sort of, giving Lindy a strange, tingling sensation and making her wish he had remained stoic. “They’re great kids. Megan is so young she’s adjusted the best. Tim and Paul are coming along, too. Jill and Mitch Andrews make much better parents than I thought they would. Do you know them?”
“I think I used to see them at church. Your brother and his wife, too. They were a lovely family.”
Uh-oh, I said too much, Lindy decided when she saw his smile fade. The way he was staring at her made her uncomfortable, although she could not have said why if her life had depended upon it. There was no anger in his expression, nor was it the kind of intense look she sometimes got from single guys. Thad didn’t act as if he wanted to date her. He seemed to be trying to understand her instead.
That would be a good trick, she thought cynically. Since she didn’t have a clue what made her tick, there was no chance a stranger would be able to figure her out.
Choosing to simply finish the final bites of her pizza, she wiped her fingers on a napkin and started to clear her side of the table.
Before she could rise, however, Thad said, “Wait,” reached for her hand and laid his over it. There was no coercion, no threat and certainly no intimacy. She felt as if his touch was meant to convey empathy.
“I lost my dad when I was pretty young,” he explained. “It was my older brother, Rob, and my life in the military that saved me. Literally. I’ll never be able to repay that debt but I keep trying. No matter how hard you work at it, you can’t be a father to Danny.”
She tried to pull free her hand, although not hard enough to strain, and the intensity of his dark gaze deepened.
“Hear me out. The kid needs men in his life,” Thad said gently. “Bring him to my class Sunday mornings or take him anywhere else. I don’t care. Just find him somebody to look up to. For his sake.”
This time, when she eased away, he let her go. She wasn’t about to listen to advice from a stranger, even though they had both experienced traumatic pasts.
Lindy swept her crumpled napkin into her little pizza box, grabbed her empty soda cup and stood. She wanted to come up with some witty remark in parting but the man’s words were tying her tongue. So was the realization that he was probably right.
Just last night, after the prowlers had left, Danny had said he wished his father was there so he could feel safer. No matter how hard she tried to compensate, she could not be Ben.
She didn’t want to find someone else like him, either. Her late husband had been a liar and a thief and his short temper had left bruises on both her and—at the end—their son. She would never place Danny anywhere near a physically abusive relationship again. Never.
Halfway to the trash receptacle Lindy turned and glanced back. Thad was sitting very still, watching her, yet there was no judgment in his expression. On the contrary, it was so benevolent it made her feel as if she were wrapped in a warm, cozy blanket that would invisibly protect her from the world’s wickedness.
“I’ll think about it,” Lindy said quietly and saw him begin to nod before she looked away.
Somewhere in the depths of her confusion about practically everything in life, she sensed that she had already made that decision. Danny could benefit from knowing Thad Pearson. Therefore, she would take him to Sunday school. It might even be easier to convince herself to leave him in the care of that teacher than any of the ones at his elementary school.
Lindy smiled. There was an additional benefit for a mother who could hardly bear to let her only child out of her sight. At church, she could linger in the hallway outside Danny’s classroom and no one would think it a bit odd.
No one except, perhaps, his understanding teacher.
TWO
There weren’t many conundrums that bothered Thad Pearson for very long. After the years he’d spent in war zones, he was used to meeting challenges head-on. Right now, he figured he must be thinking about battle casualties again due to the familiar, wounded aura around the woman Samantha had railroaded him into eating with.
Lindy Southerland’s personal problems were probably common knowledge in Serenity, Arkansas, and for once he wished he’d paid more attention to gossip. He knew she was a widow because her husband had died a violent death in some kind of gang shoot-out, but that was about all.
“It’s enough,” Thad murmured, dumping his trash and heading for the café door. He didn’t have to know a lot about the kids he worked with to help them. Besides, that woman might never drum up enough courage to actually bring Danny to his class.
Mrs. Southerland was clearly scared to death. Not having known her prior to returning to the States, he had no idea if her unsettled persona was a new development or if she’d always been the nervous type. Either way, living with someone like that couldn’t be easy on the boy. If Danny was about the same age as his nephew, Timmy, then he was seven or eight. Not too young to understand simple logic or too old to be reached via kindness. A good age.
Thad checked his watch. He’d promised to refill the break room fridge with sodas for his crew and figured this was as good a time as any to swing by the store. He’d been trying to loosen up and not run the Pearson kitchen-gadget business with his usual military precision, but he knew he was still a long way from being the hassle-free kind of boss his brother, Rob, had been. Providing free sodas would be another step in the right direction.
Pushing his cart to the nearest of the two checkout stands at the little local market, he was surprised to recognize a familiar voice coming from the customer ahead of him in line.
“But it has to be good,” Lindy Southerland was insisting to the clerk. “I put plenty of money in that account a few days ago.”
When she exchanged that debit card for a credit card with a shake of her head, Thad was struck by how beautiful her reddish-blond hair was when it swung. During lunch he’d noticed it was long and framed her heart-shaped face but he’d been looking so intently into her green eyes, trying to read her thoughts, he hadn’t paid attention to much else. Now, however, he could appreciate the graceful way her hands were moving as she held them out, palms up, in supplication.
Lindy’s next words fit the pose perfectly. “What? That’s impossible. I almost never use that card. It can’t be maxed out.”
“It isn’t,” the clerk said. “It’s been canceled.”
“No way.”
Thad saw Lindy’s confusion and realized she was too frustrated to be thinking clearly. He stepped forward and opened his wallet. “Here. Let me get this for you.”
The emerald eyes widened when they met his. Recognition dawned. “No, thank you. I can take care of it.” She was rummaging in her copious shoulder bag. “I don’t usually carry my checkbook but it may be in here.”
“Well, since we’re holding up the line, how about I bail you out temporarily? You can pay me back after you figure out what’s wrong with your cards.”
Lindy sighed noisily. “I guess that will be okay. We are both friends of Samantha.”
Thad didn’t think this was the right time to inform her that he was less a friend of Samantha Rochard, now Waltham, than he was a former adversary. Oh, they had made their peace regarding the permanent placement of his niece and two nephews but that didn’t make them buddies. Thad could count his close friends on the fingers of one hand without using half the digits. His military doctors had been right when they’d warned him that he might not relate well to most folks, although he was beginning to warm up to Jill and