Reunited By A Secret Child. Leigh Bale
most men gasping. He was in prime physical condition and the five-mile walk would be easy. The solitude might do him some good, too.
Inside the hangar, he passed by a forklift and another prop plane. The heavy smell of fuel made him crinkle his nose.
“Hello? Is anyone here?” He paused to listen for a moment.
No one responded. A scuffling noise came from behind him. He turned. A woman stood silhouetted in the doorway leading out to the parking lot. Although her face was in shadow, his guard went up like a kite flying high. The words journalist and media flashed across his brain. He was so weary of being hounded for an interview that he’d become cynical and wary. Surely the reporters were no longer expecting him. Ed had told him that several journalists had been by every day, waiting for him. He’d hoped when he hadn’t shown up that they’d all left town.
The woman took a step into the sunlight. Dressed in a modest, flowered sundress and strappy sandals that accented her shapely ankles, she seemed vaguely familiar. His gaze shifted to her side. She held the hand of a little girl perhaps six years of age. He thought there was something familiar about the child, too. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Hello,” the woman said, her voice low and strangely soothing.
“Hi, there,” Reese returned, trying not to sound grouchy. Right now, he didn’t want to talk to anyone but Ed Hayden.
“You look lost,” she said.
“Nope. I’m just not sure where I’ll be tomorrow, and that’s not the same thing.”
“Isn’t it?” She tilted her head to one side. A spray of sunshine gleamed off her long auburn curls. Her lovely mouth curved in a slight smile that didn’t quite reach her gentle brown eyes.
Yeah, he was sure he knew her, but what was her name? It was on the tip of his tongue, like the sweet taste of his mom’s homemade sugar cookies.
The woman looked at him with an oddly penetrating gaze. As though she could see deep inside his blackened heart and knew every one of his failings. Every flaw. Every regret.
“You don’t recognize me, do you?” she asked.
He took a deep, impatient breath through his nose. “Sure, I do.”
But no, he didn’t. And a flush of embarrassment heated his face. Right now, he needed to think what to do next. To go to his motel room and be left alone until he could figure out another career for himself. That was all he wanted.
She took a step closer and held out her hand. “I’m Kathleen Ashmore. You and I graduated from high school together.”
Ah, yes. It all came flooding back like the rush of adrenaline when he was fighting fires. Katie Ashmore. But, boy! She’d changed. A lot. Gone was the plain, gawky girl with disorderly red hair, freckles, thick glasses and frumpy clothes. The class valedictorian. Her test scores had been off the charts. She’d had a scholarship to at least two Ivy League schools and wanted to be a pediatrician, as he recalled. So what was she doing here?
Reese blinked, stunned by her transition. Surely this couldn’t be dreary little Katie Ashmore. No sirree. This woman had a gorgeous figure and delicate features any man would notice. She’d become a stunner in the looks department. The drab duckling had become an elegant swan. In fact, with her brains and beauty, he had no doubt she could do anything her heart desired.
“Of course I remember. You tutored me in math.” He forced himself to relax. He smiled, wondering if she might give him a ride into town. He definitely wasn’t eager to ask. The last thing he wanted was an old classmate hanging around him, asking questions about the wildfire and his crew.
“And science,” she said.
“Yeah, right.”
How could he forget? He’d been an athlete at their high school, with a scholarship to the University of Nevada in Reno. His mom had wanted him to study electrical engineering, but he didn’t want to go to school. Not in those days. He’d longed to get away from his father. He’d always thought that work experience was as good as a formal education. So he’d chosen hotshot wildfire fighting. More action. More fun.
What a fool he’d been. Too stupid to recognize that hard work and determination would get him further ahead than partying with friends and sliding through life with a minimum of effort. He’d soon discovered that firefighting was intense, difficult work. But he’d come to love it. Until two weeks ago, he’d planned to work his way up and one day be promoted to superintendent. But things were different now. He no longer knew what he wanted.
The little girl with Katie was looking at him with a critical eye, as though she could see deep inside him. Again, he felt a familiarity with her that he didn’t quite understand.
“You’re the firefighter I saw on TV. The one that survived,” the child said, her voice soft and matter-of-fact.
“Yeah,” he said, a hard lump of sandpaper in his throat.
“I’m sorry you lost your friends,” the kid said.
Reese couldn’t detect a single ounce of guile in her voice. Her compassion seemed sincere. And coming from an innocent child, her words touched him like nothing else could.
“Yes, we were both sorry to hear about your hotshot crew. I’m glad you’re okay,” Katie said. Her expressive eyes crinkled at the corners, telling him she was genuinely concerned.
“Thanks, but I’d rather not talk about it,” he said, trying not to sound too abrasive. After all, it wasn’t their fault.
“I understand. Are you headed into town?” Katie asked.
“Yeah,” he said, glancing around. Where was Ed?
During high school, Katie had tutored him a couple nights each week. He’d been smart enough, but he’d talked her into doing his homework and writing his research papers. She’d stared at him with doe-eyed adoration. He could have talked her into doing anything, and he had. He’d used her, taking her most precious gift. Now he felt guilty and embarrassed by it all. He’d been such an idiot. He never should have taken what belonged to her husband. He should have studied harder. Should have been kinder, more diligent and responsible.
“You used to wear glasses,” he said.
She nodded. “I wear contact lenses now.”
He paused, liking the change. “Are you home visiting your family?”
“No, I still live here,” she said. “In fact, I never left town. I...I work for my father at his motel and also write articles for the Minoa Daily News.”
Reese tensed. Another reporter. Just what he’d come here to avoid. But he couldn’t figure out why she’d stayed in Minoa. Why she’d chosen to be a journalist for a shabby newspaper office when she could have gone to almost any college and studied biology or physics. Her father owned the Cowboy Country Inn, one of the two motels in town. In fact, Reese had made a reservation to stay there while he was visiting. But he couldn’t envision this attractive woman cleaning rooms for a living.
He brushed past her. “Sorry, but I don’t have a story for you.”
“That’s not why I’m here,” she called to his retreating back.
He stopped. Turned. “Then what do you want?”
She hesitated. “This is Chrissy.”
Standing behind the little girl, Katie rested her hands on the child’s slender shoulders. Chrissy smiled, showing a tooth missing in front. She lifted a hand to wave, her long reddish-blond ponytail bouncing. Very cute. A smaller version of her mother. With startling green eyes.
Reese waved back impatiently. “Hi, there, Chrissy. Glad to meet you.”
And he was. She was a child, after all. Looking at him with an open honesty and casual frankness that told him she didn’t want anything from him. Probably the first