Mission: Motherhood

“I won’t hear of you leaving,” Mama said flatly. “Now just you do as I say, Caitlyn Ann.”

“If a parent uses both names, you’d better give up,” Steve said. His smile seemed genuine.

She sank back down reluctantly. “I guess you’re right. We’ll see you at home, then, Mama.”

Her mother blew a kiss and started off to find her next-door neighbor. Caitlyn watched her go, and her heart clenched.

“She’s aged,” she said softly, nearly forgetting who she was talking to.

“It’s been pretty rough on her.” Steve leaned back on his elbows, his gaze intent on her face. “Even before Carolyn and Dean died, I could see the toll it was taking on her. She wouldn’t admit it, but taking care of those girls full-time was beyond her.”

“You think I don’t know that?” She let the exasperation show in her voice. “Have you ever tried to stop Betty Villard from doing something she thought was her duty?”

“I know what you mean.” He smiled. “Texas women are tough.”

She shrugged. “I’ve been away too long to qualify, I’m afraid.”

“Never say that.” The laughter seemed to leave his face. “Caitlyn, I need to apologize to you for what I said earlier. I overstepped my bounds.”

“Yes, you did.”

“You’re a hard case, you know that? I’m saying I’m sorry.”

Much as she hated to admit it, that lopsided grin of his affected her. All the annoyance she’d been clinging to slid away.

“It’s all right,” she said. “I know you care about the girls. As for me—I’m still just feeling my way with them.”

“It’s pretty different from your life in New York, is it?”

“I’ll say. I probably don’t see a child from one month to the next there.”

“No married friends with babies?”

She shrugged. “I work long hours. When I’m off, I guess I try to catch up on my sleep.”

“That sounds a little lonely.”

“Lonely? I don’t have time to be lonely. The firm isn’t happy unless they’re getting sixty hours a week out of us.”

He smiled. “Like I said. Lonely.”

“You don’t understand.” He probably couldn’t. She didn’t know what the army expected of a chaplain, but it couldn’t be anything like the expectations of her firm. “That’s what it takes in my line of work. You put in outrageous hours, knowing that the payoff at the end is worth it.”

She sounded defensive, she realized. That was ridiculous. She didn’t owe anyone an explanation of the life she’d chosen.

The military band struck up a march just then, and she was glad. It would save her from another argument with Steve.

“Hey, Amanda! Josie!” Steve called. “Come on, the fireworks are going to start any minute.”

They came scurrying and dived onto the blanket. “I love fireworks,” Amanda said. “They’re my favorite thing next to chocolate cake and going to the movies.”

“This girl’s got her priorities straight.” Steve scooped her onto his lap. “Look right out there over the water. Maybe you can be the first one to spot the fireworks.”

Josie snuggled against Caitlyn. “I don’t like the loud bang,” she said confidingly. “I’m going to put my hands over my ears.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” Caitlyn patted her. “We’ll hold on to each other, okay?”

“Okay.”

The feel of that little body snuggled up against her was doing funny things to her heart. Lonely. Steve thought she’d been lonely.

She’d denied it, of course, but there might be a grain of truth in what he’d said. Maybe her life back in New York was a bit out of balance.

“There!” Amanda pointed to a dark rocket soaring upward. It exploded into a shower of white stars that arced downward toward their reflection in the water.

That was only the beginning. One rocket after another shot up to the oohs and aahs of the crowds along the riverbank. Amanda stared, mesmerized, and Josie alternated between watching and hiding her face in Caitlyn’s lap.

Caitlyn smoothed Josie’s fine, soft hair. She wouldn’t have believed it a month ago, but it really was nice, sitting here, watching the awed looks on the children’s faces.

As for Steve—she turned so she could see his strong profile, outlined against the water. It wasn’t so bad having him here, either.

The last spectacular display seemed to go on and on as the band soared to a crescendo. Then, finally, the lights and sound faded away. It was over.

Before she could move or speak, she heard a sound drifting over the dark water, silencing the audience. It was a lone bugle, playing “Taps.” The notes hung, sharp as crystal, in the still air.

Caitlyn’s heart clenched painfully, and a tear trickled down her cheek. The sound was inexpressibly sad and beautiful.

The final notes died away, and for a moment nobody moved, nobody spoke. From somewhere in the crowd there was a muffled sob.

Then Steve pushed to his feet and moved to kneel next to her.

“She’s asleep. I’ll take her, if you can manage—”

He stopped. Then he reached out, wiping an errant tear from her cheek with one large, warm hand. Her gaze met his, and for a moment she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Attraction twinkled between them, seeming as bright as the fireworks had been.

Then Steve sat back on his heels, looking startled. “I—” he began, and seemed to lose his train of thought. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I—I was saying that I’d carry Josie.”

Amanda tugged at his pant leg. “I want you to carry me.”

“But Aunt Caitlyn needs you,” he said. “She has to have a strong girl to carry one end of the blanket.”

Amanda’s shoulders straightened. She’d be the strong one, obviously.

He slid his arms under the sleeping child, carefully not looking at Caitlyn. It didn’t matter. She was aware of his every movement.

Was he as aware of her? Maybe it was better not to know. That flare of attraction—it was probably brought on by the emotion of the moment. It couldn’t be anything else.

She stumbled to her feet, helping a tired Amanda gather up the blanket and then taking her tiny hand. It was definitely time to go home, and she would not feel regret. She wouldn’t.