The Soldier's Redemption. Lee Tobin McClain
“Thank you for taking care of him.”
“He’s welcome to sit at the kids’ table and eat. Most of the children do, though a few go sit with their parents.”
Kayla turned back to Leo. “What do you think, buddy? Want to sit here with your new friends, or come sit with me and Miss Penny and Mr. Finn?”
Leo considered.
The other boy whacked his action figure. “ATTACK!” he yelled.
Leo made his figure strike back, and the other boy fell on the floor, pretending he’d been struck.
“I’ll stay with the kids,” Leo said and dived down to the floor to make his action figure engage in some hand-to-hand combat with the one the other boy was holding.
Kayla watched them play for a moment as realization struck her. If she did, indeed, build a better life for Leo, it would mean he’d become more and more independent. He wouldn’t be tied to her by fear. He’d have regular friendships, sleepovers at other boys’ homes, camping trips.
And where did that leave her, who’d centered her life around protecting her son for the past five years?
It’ll leave me right where I should be, she told herself firmly. It would be good, normal, for Leo to gain independence. And if that made her nostalgic for his baby years of total reliance on her, that was normal, too. She could focus on the healthy ways parents and children related, instead of walking on eggshells to avoid offending Mitch.
The lunch went quickly, partly because the serving staff ate in shifts and then hurried back to the kitchen to help with refills and cleanup. Kayla didn’t mind. She liked the camaraderie of working with others. And she liked having her stomach—and her son’s—full of delicious, healthy food.
She was washing dishes when Mrs. Barnes came up beside her, towel in hand. “I’ll dry and put away,” she said. “Where are you from, dear?”
“Arkansas,” Kayla said vaguely. “Small town.” Mrs. Barnes seemed harmless, but Kayla didn’t want to get into the habit of revealing too much.
“And what brought you to Esperanza Springs? We don’t get a whole lot of newcomers.”
Kayla was conscious of Finn nearby, carrying big empty serving dishes back to the sinks to be washed. “I was looking for a change,” she said. “I’ve always loved the mountains, so we thought we’d take our chances in Colorado.”
“And what did you do back in Arkansas?”
Kayla didn’t see malice in the other woman’s eyes, only a little too much curiosity. “I worked for a cleaning company,” she said. “Cleaning houses and offices and such.” No need to mention that she’d started it, and that it had been doing well. She hoped Janice, who’d taken it over, was managing okay. She’d been avoiding calling her, afraid word would get back to Mitch, but she needed to stop being afraid. She’d call Janice tonight.
The kitchen was getting hotter, and Kayla dried off her hands and unbuttoned her sleeves. As she rolled them up, Mrs. Barnes went still. Behind her, Finn stared, too.
Too late, she looked down and saw her arms, still a traffic wreck of bruises.
“Oh, my, dear, what happened?” Mrs. Barnes put a gentle hand on Kayla’s shoulder.
She didn’t look at either of them. “I fell.”
It wasn’t a lie. Each time Mitch had hit her, she’d fallen.
Someone called Mrs. Barnes to the serving counter. She squeezed Kayla’s shoulder and then turned away, leaving Finn and Kayla standing at the sink.
He frowned at her, putting his hands on his hips. “If someone hurt you—”
An Eighty-second Airborne tattoo peeked out from under the sleeve of his shirt. The same tattoo Mitch had.
She took a step backward. “I need to go check on Leo,” she said abruptly and practically ran out of the kitchen, rolling down her sleeves as she went.
Leo was drawing pictures with the same boy he’d been playing with before, but he jumped up and hugged her when she approached. “Mom! Hector goes to the day camp here, too! He’s gonna get me the cubby next to his and bring his Skytrooper tomorrow!” He flopped back down on the floor, propped on his arms, drawing on the same large piece of paper as his new friend.
“That’s great, honey.” Kayla backed away and looked from Leo to the kitchen and back again. She was well and truly caught.
Her whole goal was to provide a safe, happy home for Leo. And it looked like maybe she’d found that place. The ranch, the dogs, the church people, all were bringing out her son’s relaxed, happy side—a side she’d almost forgotten he had.
But on the other hand, there was Finn—a dangerous man by virtue of his association with Mitch’s favorite, dedicated social circle. She knew how the Eighty-second worked.
She grabbed a sponge and started wiping down tables, thinking.
Finn had seen her bruises and gotten suspicious. If she let slip too much information, he might just get in touch with Mitch.
On the other hand, maybe his tattoo was old and so was his allegiance. Maybe he’d gotten involved in broader veterans affairs. Not everyone stayed focused on their own little division of the service.
She had to find out more about Finn and how committed he was to his paratrooper brothers. And she had to do it quickly. Because Leo was already starting to get attached to this place, and truthfully, so was she.
But she couldn’t let down her guard. She had to learn more.
As she wiped a table, hypnotically, over and over, she concocted a plan. Once she’d finalized it, she felt better.
By this evening, one way or another, she’d have the answer about whether or not they could stay. For Leo’s sake, she hoped the answer was yes.
Late Sunday afternoon, Finn settled into his recliner and put his legs up. He clicked on a baseball game and tried to stop thinking.
It didn’t work.
He kept going back to those bruises on Kayla’s arms, the defensive secrecy in her eyes. All of it pretty much advertised a victim of abuse.
If that were the case, he was in trouble. His primary responsibility was to the veterans here, and some angry guy coming in to drag Kayla away would up the potential for violence among a group of men who’d seen too much of it.
That was bad.
But worse, he was starting to feel responsible for Kayla and the boy. They were plucky but basically defenseless. They needed protection.
If he sent them away, he’d be putting them at risk.
His phone buzzed, a welcome break from his worries. He clicked to answer. “Gallagher.”
“Somethin’ curious just happened.” It was Long John’s voice.
Finn settled back into his chair. “What’s that, buddy?” Unlike Willie, Long John had no family, and with his Agent Orange–induced Parkinson’s, he couldn’t get out a lot. He tended to call Finn with reports of a herd of elk, or an upcoming storm, or a recommendation about caring for one of the dogs.
It was fine, good, even. Finn didn’t have much family himself, none here in Colorado, and providing a listening ear to lonely vets gave him a sense of purpose.
Long John cleared his throat. “That Kayla is mighty interested in you.”
“What do you mean?” For just a second, he thought Long John meant romantic interest, but then he realized that wasn’t likely to be the case. Kayla was young, pretty and preoccupied