Light This Candle (Harlequin More Than Words)
Author: Dees, Cindy
Date: 2013-03-31T21:00:00+00:00
Description: Light This Candle by Cindy Dees
Publisher: Harlequin

More Than Words: Bestselling authors

& Real-life heroines

Each year, the Harlequin More Than Words award is given to three women who have worked hard to change people’s lives for the better. Inspired by their accomplishments, three bestselling authors have written stories to honor these real-life heroines.

In Light This Candle, Major Mitch McConnell has arrived home after serving overseas for nearly two years. Now he can finally give his condolences to Cassidy Frazier, whose husband died under his command. But when he tracks down the single mother, he finds out that Cassidy is about to be evicted and her son, Cody, is in the hospital.

At first, Cassidy tells Mitch she doesn’t want his help. The military wasn’t there for her when it mattered most, so she certainly doesn’t need them now. But Mitch is more than a soldier: he’s a caring, gentle man who’s determined to ease Cassidy’s burdens. And if she lets him into her family, perhaps she can give Mitch something worth fighting for…

Look for all three ebooks inspired by real-life heroines: Good Neighbors by Sheila Roberts, Just Joe by Carla Cassidy and Light This Candle by Cindy Dees. Visit the Harlequin More Than Words website at www.HarlequinMoreThanWords.com or your favorite ebook retailer to download these free novellas today.

Dear Reader,

For many years Harlequin has been a leader in supporting and promoting women’s charitable efforts. Through Harlequin More Than Words, each year we celebrate three women who make extraordinary differences in the lives of others, and Harlequin donates $15,000 each to their chosen causes.

We are proud to highlight the current Harlequin More Than Words recipients with the help of some of the biggest names in women’s fiction, Harlequin authors, who have created fictional stories inspired by these women and the charities they support. Within the following pages you will find Light This Candle, a touching story written by Cindy Dees—one of three ebooks available at www.HarlequinMoreThanWords.com. Be sure to look for Sheila Roberts’s Good Neighbors, and Carla Cassidy’s Just Joe—also available online. A book with three additional stories, written by Sherryl Woods, Christina Skye and Pamela Morsi, can be found on the shelves of your favorite bookstore in More Than Words, Where Dreams Begin. All six of these stories are beautiful tributes to the Harlequin More Than Words recipients and we hope they will ignite the heroine in you.

For more information on how you can get involved, please visit our website at www.HarlequinMoreThanWords.com.

Together we can make a difference!

Sincerely,

Donna Hayes

Publisher and CEO

Harlequin

Patches of Light

Name: Mindy Atwood

Hometown: Hilliard, Ohio

Recipient’s Related Charity: Patches of Light

Website: http://patchesoflight.org/

How Mindy inspires others:

Imagine how hard it must be for a family with a critically ill child to also have to worry about financial difficulties. Now imagine how bad it was for Mindy Atwood and her family trying to cope with two sons in critical condition, and no respite from the financial gloom pressing down on them. Yet even in the darkest of times, Mindy could occasionally feel relief, perhaps stemming from good news or a kind gesture, as if a patch of light had somehow managed to penetrate the black cloud in the air.

With a desire to have something positive emerge from her family’s difficult journey, Mindy founded Patches of Light, a nonprofit organization seeking to aid families with critically ill children by offering financial aid for nonmedical items such as utility bills, rent, groceries and gas. Mindy purposely avoids ever meeting the families they assist to prevent any feelings of obligation. “We want them to go and take care of their children,” Mindy says, “while we help them with the means to do that.”

While fund-raising remains the greatest challenge facing the organization, especially when competing against other NPOs with far greater resources, on a personal level Mindy has to balance duties as the CEO with full-time work and life as a mother and grandmother.

While Mindy gets the most credit for the success of Patches of Light, which she regards as one of her own children, she acknowledges the great support the organization has received from her entire family, especially her husband, Rodney. “We started off running Patches as a family effort and everything in our lives continues to revolve around it.”

Cindy Dees

More Than Words

Light This Candle

About the Author

Cindy Dees started flying airplanes while sitting in her dad’s lap at the age of three and got a pilot’s license before she got a driver’s license. At age fifteen, she dropped out of high school and left the horse farm in Michigan where she grew up to attend the University of Michigan.

After earning a degree in Russian and East European Studies, she joined the U.S. Air Force and became the youngest female pilot in its history. She flew supersonic jets, VIP airlift, and the C-5 Galaxy, one of the world’s largest cargo airplanes. She also worked part-time gathering intelligence. During her military career, she traveled to forty-two countries on five continents, was detained by the KGB and East German secret police, got shot at, flew in the first Gulf War, met her husband, and amassed a lifetime’s worth of war stories that she uses to create her stories of romantic suspense.

Her hobbies include medieval reenacting, professional Middle Eastern dancing, and Japanese gardening. This 2-time RITA winner has published forty novels and counting. She loves to hear from readers and can be contacted at her website: www.cindydees.com

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

More Than Words BPA

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

Mitch McConnell paused in the doorway of the C-17 transport plane and gazed around the ramp at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton, Ohio. It smelled deliciously like fall—burning leaves, cold nights. Man, even the greasy ramp smelled good right now.

It was great to finally be home. Six months of down-range training followed by fifteen months deployed in one of the world’s most terrorist-ridden danger zones had really taken its toll on him and his men.

Families squealed and hugged and laughed in clusters on the tarmac below him, and he couldn’t help but grin at the joyous homecoming reunions.

He didn’t have any family of his own to greet him. The military had always been his family, and that was enough for him. Most of the time. But at a moment like this, part of him wished for a soft, sweet woman to wrap her arms around him and cry a little because he was home, safe and sound. Heck, even a rug rat or two clinging to his neck like a monkey wouldn’t be so bad. He shook off the melancholy. He was a soldier, not a family man.

He spent the next hour making sure everyone caught up with their duffel bags. When his was the only one left sitting on the baggage pallet, he hefted it and headed for the unit. It was common practice for the bachelors to leave their vehicles in the care of someone they trusted in their absence. On homecoming days, the cars were all brought on base and parked in the parking lot for them. It was one less hassle to face after a long, jet-lag-inducing flight.

The guys who’d been filling in for him while he’d been deployed had done a credible job of keeping crises off his desk, and only one piece of paper waited for him, front and center on his desk pad. His heart fell when he read it. Listed were the names and current addresses of the three young widows who’d lost husbands on this tour overseas.

He could wait until tomorrow to make the condolence visits, but he’d slept for most of the flight, and he’d only sit at home tonight dreading the task if he didn’t just get it over with now. It was far and away the most difficult part of his job. He’d rather get shot at than have to face the grief of bereaved family members. He was damned proud of losing only three men in over a year’s worth of dangerous missions, but that didn’t make it any less of a tragedy for their families.

According to his list, one of the widows had already moved back to California to be with her parents. He’d write her a letter expressing his sympathy and praising her husband’s valor.

He drove to the first local address on his list and pulled up in front of a ratty house with a bunch of Harleys parked in the driveway. Great. And he was in uniform, his gray-and-beige combat dress as establishment as it was possible to be.

His conversation through a screen door with the widow was short and uncomfortable. She was apparently some biker’s old lady now, and told him in no uncertain terms what the military could do with itself and its condolences.

Man, these visits usually took hours. At this rate, he’d be done in time to head home, grab a cold brewsky, prop his feet up and watch his first Monday Night Football game in nearly two years.

He’d never met Jimmy Frazier’s wife, but she had to be young. Jimmy had been in his mid-twenties. Died the very first day the unit was deployed. He’d been hit by a training missile gone awry—one of those freak accidents that no one could have foreseen or prevented. Mitch pulled into the widow’s apartment complex and parked his Jeep at the front office, since the address he had didn’t include a unit number. He stepped inside the office and a perky young blonde looked up from a gossip magazine.

“Can you tell me which apartment Cassidy Frazier lives in?” he asked.

“You here to repossess her car or something?” the girl replied.

The widow was in financial trouble? It wasn’t uncommon for young wives left abruptly on their own to have no idea how to manage money. “No, I’m from her late husband’s military unit. Thought I’d check up on her and see how she’s doing.”

“About homeless is how she’s doing. The management company’s fixing to evict her at the end of this week. Too bad, what with her kid and all. But if you can’t pay your rent, there’s nothing we can do about it, you know?”

“What about her kid?”

“He’s in the hospital. Dying or something. I think he needs a heart transplant.”

Mitch jolted. Dying? “Where can I find Mrs. Frazier?”

“Spends most of her time at the hospital. I hope they’ll let her live there when my boss boots her out.”

“Do you have your boss’s card, by any chance?” he asked smoothly.

“Sure.” The girl rooted around in a drawer. “It’s in here somewhere...hah. Here it is. A little bent up, but that’s it.”

“Thanks.” Mitch pocketed the card, spun smartly on his booted heel and strode to his truck. The woman had lost her husband and now her child was dying? Talk about rotten luck.

Worse, he smelled a bureaucratic screwup. As a widow, her survivor’s gratuity and her husband’s insurance payout should have added up to hundreds of thousands of dollars. Plus, her son should qualify for full health care benefits. She shouldn’t be in dire financial straits less than two years after her husband died. What was up with that?

He pointed his truck out of the parking lot, but paused as he reached the street. Which hospital would the child be at? He chose the nearest one, which also happened to be the largest in the region. He parked in the garage and navigated a bewildering maze of hallways before he finally came to an information desk with a volunteer.

“I’m looking for a patient. A child. Last name Frazier. Mom’s first name is Cassidy.”

“Are you related to the family?” the gray-haired woman asked.

“The child’s deceased father worked for me. I’m trying to find Mrs. Frazier to make a condolence call.”

The woman hesitated for a moment, then said quietly, eyeing his uniform and major’s oak leaves, “I’m not supposed to release that information, but if you go up to Intensive Care Unit *2, you might find who you’re looking for. Goodness knows,” she added in a rush, “Cassidy could use a friendly face right about now.” She indicated the corridor behind her. “ICU’s on the fifth floor. Elevators are to your left about a hundred feel down that hall.”

“Thanks.” Intensive care, huh? That didn’t sound good.

* * *

Cassidy Frazier slumped on a high stool next to her son’s bed. He looked so small and fragile. At least he was resting quietly. His breathing was closer to normal now that they had him on oxygen full-time. Normally they would have to sedate a five-year old boy on respiratory support to keep him still, but Cody was so weak it wasn’t necessary. Eight months they’d been waiting for a new heart for him. She didn’t know how much longer her baby could hang on. Frankly, she was nearing the end of her rope, too.

She bent and rested her forehead on the bed rail beside Cody’s frail little hand. A hand that should be throwing baseballs and picking up toads and finger painting. But instead, it lay there on top of the white sheet, limp and lifeless.

A silent sob shook her slender frame. She couldn’t lose him. He was the last piece of Jimmy that she had. She’d promised her husband when he’d left to go overseas that she’d take care of Cody for him. But she’d never dreamed it would mean enduring this unending nightmare of false hope and heartbreak, months on end in and out of the hospital...now mostly in.

She couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t hold her life together. Couldn’t find the energy to scrape together any more money to pay for experimental treatments not covered by Jimmy’s military health insurance. Couldn’t paste one more smile over her tears for Cody’s sake.

This was it. She’d reached the end of the road.

Please, Jimmy. Come back to me. Take this nightmare away and make everything okay again. I just want things to go back to the way they were.

The sobs became too much to hold back. She slapped a hand over her mouth and raced out into the hall so she wouldn’t disturb Cody. She sagged against the wall outside his room and finally gave vent to the grief, fear and loneliness that were always there, threatening to crash over her like a massive wave.

The agony in her chest was too much to bear and she slid to the floor, curled in on herself and cried her heart out. The hell of it was she didn’t feel one bit better afterward. And now her nose was runny and her eyes red. For months, to cover up the aftermath of her tears, she’d been lying to Cody about having allergies.

As her sobs wound down, the elevator at the end of the curving hall dinged and she started. Visiting hours were almost over and the hospital staff used another elevator most of the time.

She glimpsed a man, blurred by her tears, stepping out of the elevator. He was dressed in speckled gray. Beige suede combat boots. A soldier. Tall and strong like Jimmy. Dark haired like him. Same confident stride. Surely not...they’d been certain he died, even though his body hadn’t been recovered...

Her heart took a mighty leap in her chest. Jimmy had come back to her! Her prayer had been answered—but then the insanity of that idea slammed into her so hard it nearly finished her off.

She scrubbed at her eyes, dashing away tears to see more clearly. As he drew closer, she saw the differences between this man and Jimmy. This man was a half dozen years older. A few inches taller. Leaner than Jimmy, who’d always carried a little baby fat around his middle. This man’s eyes were light and piercing, where Jimmy’s had been dark and soft and warm. And—oh, dear—he wore officer’s insignia on his collar instead of Jimmy’s enlisted stripes.

She scrambled to her feet as he approached her and asked tentatively, “Mrs. Frazier?”

She blinked up at him, feeling like an owl. “Who are you?” she finally managed to mumble.

“I’m Mitch McConnell. Are you Cassidy Frazier?”

She nodded, puzzled by this man’s presence here and now.

He let out a relieved breath. “Good. I’ve been looking for you.”

“Why?” What on earth did the military want with her? They’d been doing their darnedest to ignore her ever since Jimmy died. When Cody got sick, it had become imperative to get Jimmy’s messed-up benefits straightened out so he could receive medical care. But the confusing tangle of government paperwork and bureaucracy was ongoing. At least she’d gotten Cody’s health insurance mostly ironed out with the help of the hospital’s insurance staff.

“I’m the executive officer from Jimmy’s unit. I wanted to give you my personal condolences. Your husband was a fine man and a credit to his country.” He exhaled hard. “I also wanted to see if there’s anything I can do to help you. Our unit looks after its own, and you’re part of our family.”

“What did you have in mind?” she asked blankly. A few wives from the unit had kept in touch with her for the first couple of months after that awful day when the chaplain had shown up at her front door. But eventually they’d tired of her grief and drifted away. Not that she could blame them.

All of Jimmy’s buddies had been deployed at the time of his death, and even later none of them had come by the apartment. Maybe they’d been too tied up with their own families when they’d rotated home on brief vacations, or maybe it had hurt too much to see her and be reminded of Jimmy. Or maybe they just hadn’t known what to say. But not one of them had come over.

He shrugged. “I can take care of whatever you need. Jimmy gave his life for his country. It’s the least I can do to lend you a hand.”

It was a fine thing for the military to suddenly give a darn, fifteen months after Jimmy died. Where had this guy been when she’d had to bury her husband alone? When she’d had to learn how to repair toilets and balance a checkbook? When she’d received the horrendous news that her son’s heart was failing and he would die if he didn’t receive a new one?

She spoke frostily. “That’s very kind of you—” she checked the color of the oak leaf on his collar: gold “—Major McConnell. But Cody and I can take care of ourselves.”

“I understand,” he said gently enough that she wondered for a second if maybe he really did. He pulled something small and white out of a pocket and spoke as he scribbled on it. “Here’s my card. I’ve written my cell phone number and my personal email on the back. Please call me any time, day or night, if you need anything at all. I mean it. I’m happy to help out however I can.”

Wow. That was actually a really nice offer. Too bad he couldn’t have kept her husband alive and brought him home to her. She stared up at him with the accusation in her eyes and his gaze faltered. Fell away. He knew what she was thinking. It hung unspoken between them as the silence grew unbearably awkward.

Finally he cleared his throat. “I don’t want to intrude. I hope your son gets better real soon.”

He moved past her down the hall, and she stared at his retreating back, hating him and everything he represented. How come he was alive and Jimmy was dead? How come he got to go home to his family tonight, and she and Cody were totally on their own? How come he was so in control and together while she was a sobbing mess?

The major turned a corner and disappeared from sight. She let out the breath she realized she’d been holding as she watched him and sagged back against the wall, drained by the brief encounter.

Good grief, she was a wreck tonight. She usually didn’t let herself get this bitter. Everyone thought she couldn’t hack it alone, and she’d be darned if they turned out to be right. She didn’t know how she’d survive or how she’d save her son, but she would find a way. Tomorrow. She’d figure something out.

CHAPTER TWO

Mitch turned the corner and paused to draw a steadying breath. Man, it had been hard to look into that woman’s eyes and not believe he was somehow responsible for the tragedy she’d suffered. He knew without question there was nothing he could have done to save Jimmy, but that didn’t make it any easier to face the man’s widow.

She looked so young. Small and slender, her light brown hair in a youthful ponytail. At a glance, he’d have guessed she was about sixteen. But then he’d peered into her eyes. The suffering written there had made her look older than time.

He hadn’t had the nerve to ask about her kid. He spied a nurses’ station ahead and realized that the curving hallway he’d just left must run along a semicircular bank of intensive care rooms, all of which had glass fronts facing the station. He stepped into the brightly lit hub.

“Can I help you?” a woman in bold blue scrubs asked him.

“Hi. I’m Mitch McConnell. What can you tell me about Cody Frazier’s condition?”

“Are you a family member, sir?”

“Jimmy Frazier, Cody’s dad, was one of my troops. The way I hear it, I’m as close to family as Mrs. Frazier has right now. You could think of me as Uncle Sam’s stand-in for Jimmy Frazier.”

“Cassidy could use a stand-in. Poor girl is going through this all alone.”

“What is ‘this,’ exactly?”

The nurse sighed. “Hospital policy prevents me from releasing that information.”

“I heard he needs a heart transplant. Is that true?”

The nurse nodded infinitesimally, and Mitch’s pulse lurched. That sucked.

“How old is he?” When the nurse hesitated, he added, “I can find out from my own records at the office, so I doubt it’s a breach of confidentiality for you to tell me now.”

“He turned five a few weeks ago. We had a little party for him.”

Mitch winced. Five years old and the kid had to have his birthday in an ICU? That double sucked. “Can you tell me anything about how sick he is?”

The nurse shook her head, but her eyes darkened with worry. That said more to him than all the medical terminology she could have thrown at him. Alarmed, he asked, “Is there anything I can do for Cody or his mom? Anything you know they need?”

“You’d have to speak to the social worker for that. But whatever you can do for that girl would be a blessing.”

Folks around here seemed to like Cassidy Frazier. And feel sorry for her. The kid must really be in terrible shape. “Where can I find this social worker?”

“She usually doesn’t stay this late, but if she’s in her office, it’s down that hall. Last door on the right. Her name’s Rose Parker.”

He followed the nurse’s directions and was relieved to see a strip of light under the indicated door. He knocked quietly.

“Come in!” a female voice barked.

He stepped into the room and flashed back to the first time he’d had to formally report in to his commander’s office as a brand-new, baby lieutenant.

A woman fully as tall as he was stood up behind her desk as he entered the closet-sized space. There was nothing flowerlike about Rose Parker. She was a big-boned, gray-haired woman with an imposing presence. She reminded him of portraits of Eleanor Roosevelt more than a little. He looked into her black-as-midnight eyes, and the compassion and humor shining there put him at ease immediately, though.

“Hi, Ms. Parker. I’m Mitch McConnell.”

“Well, aren’t you pretty? Come right on in, young man. Feel free to close the door. And you can call me Rose.”

He grinned at her outrageous flirting and did, indeed, close the door. “I’m here to talk about Cassidy Frazier. Her husband was in my unit. I met her briefly a few minutes ago, and she was less than thrilled to see me.”

The social worker nodded sympathetically. “Don’t take it personally. It’s the uniform she resents. Can’t say as Uncle Sam has been too kind to her, taking her husband and then making her life miserable while she tries to take care of her baby.”

“Does she have a job?” he asked, curious.

“Not anymore. She was an office manager, but she had to choose between her job and being with her baby.”

“Are you aware that she’s about to be evicted from her apartment?”

Rose’s jaw fell open. “She told me she was doing fine. I assumed when she left her job that she still had plenty of cash left from her husband’s insurance settlement. She should have told me. There are things I could do to help....” She trailed off, muttering under her breath about foolish pride and stubborn independence. He assumed she was referring to Cassidy Frazier.

A job or being at the side of her dying child. A home or spending her son’s last days with him. What a choice to have to make. Mitch declared, “I want to help her. But I don’t know what she needs or what she’ll let me do for her.”

“Sit down.” Rose did the same, half hidden behind tall piles of manila folders. “What did you have in mind, Mitch McConnell?”

“I don’t really know. Whatever she needs. I’d like to stop her being evicted from her apartment. From the sound of your comments, though, it sounds like Mrs. Frazier would resist my paying her rent for her.”

Rose nodded slowly. “I might be able to help you out with that. There’s an organization in town that assists single parents with sick children. It’s called Patches of Light. They anonymously pay rent and utility bills and the like so parents with seriously or terminally ill children can stay by their babies’ sides where they belong. Had I known Cassidy was in such trouble, I’d have already contacted them.”

“So I could pay her rent through this group without her knowing?”

“If you’d like to make a donation to Patches of Light, I can earmark it for Cassidy. That’s not usually how they do things, but I know the founder, Mindy Atwood. Great lady. She’ll work with me. Lord knows, Cassidy Frazier could use a break. Her luck’s been nothing but bad for a long time.”

Mitch felt as if a ten-ton rock had just been lifted off his chest. “That would be perfect. What do I have to do?”

“Well, I’ll have to fill out the paperwork. But as you can see, I’ve got nothing else on my plate at the moment.” Her eyes twinkled and he chuckled at her overflowing desk. “You just write a check, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“How soon can you arrange for these people to help her? I’m told Ms. Frazier’s being evicted at the end of this week.”

“The Patches of Light folks move fast. In twenty-four hours they can swoop in and get rid of the most pressing bills for parents.”

“That’s amazing.” He pulled a blank check out of his wallet. “I wish the military was that efficient.” He wrote out an amount that he guessed would cover the young widow’s rent, utilities and maybe a few other bills.

He handed it to the social worker along with the apartment manager’s contact information. “If that’s not enough, let me know and I’ll write out another check. Here’s my business card, too.”

She whistled between her widely spaced front teeth as she looked down at the check. “That’ll be more than enough. You sure you can afford this much?”

“I’m single and I’ve been overseas for over a year. I haven’t had a chance to spend a dime of my earnings. I can’t think of a better way to unload a little of it.”

“All right, then. I’ll get right on it.”

“And she won’t know the money came from me?” he asked anxiously.

“Cassie won’t hear a peep from me. And the Patches of Light folks work completely anonymously. Your secret’s safe.”

“Perfect.”

“Now, about the other thing that girl needs,” Rose announced.

He froze in the act of standing up and sank back into the plastic chair. “Name it.”

“She needs a good man in her life.”

His jaw actually dropped open. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, boy. You’re not gay, are you? Darned if the pretty ones don’t always seem to bat for the other team.”

“Uh, no, ma’am. I’m not, umm, you know.”

“All right, then. You wanna help that girl? Well then, she needs a man in the worst way.”

Surely she wasn’t trying to tell him that Cassidy Frazier was desperate for sex! He said cautiously, “I don’t understand.”

“What is there to understand? She needs a man to change the oil in her car. Do little fix-up jobs around her place.”

“I can do that.”

“More important...” The woman leaned forward and pointed an accusing finger at him. “She needs a shoulder to lean on now and again. Don’t get me wrong. Cassie’s been as strong as steel for all these months. But she’s getting worn down by the waiting. And she’s got no one to talk to.”

“No one?”

“Nope. She’s from Oregon. Moved here with Jimmy right before he got deployed and, well, you know what happened better than most, I imagine.”

An image of a blood-spattered crater and the screams of the wounded flashed into his mind.

“Mmm-hmm. Better than most,” she repeated soberly. She leaned back in her chair and studied him with eyes that he suspected didn’t miss a thing. Ever. “So. Can Cassidy Frazier count on you?”

Could she? He’d made more than a few of these visits over the years, and he’d always offered to help out in any way he could. A few widows had taken him up on his offer. An outing with a fatherless son. A few small home repairs. But that was about it. The widows eventually got on with their lives and drifted away.

He’d never stepped into the middle of a bona fide crisis like this. And it wasn’t as if it had ever been his style to commit to much beyond his career. But Cassidy Frazier’s need was urgent. He dared not let her down.

He must have hesitated for a moment too long.

The social worker harrumphed abruptly. “Forget I said anything. You’re not the man for the job.”

Startled, he automatically rose to his feet as the woman stood up.

“Thanks for your money, Major.”

Her disappointment was palpable. He’d scratched a few words on a piece of paper and a few numbers disappeared from his bank account. Big deal. He’d really put himself out to help the widow, he berated himself. And Rose’s tone of voice said she wasn’t much impressed with him or the military he represented.

Stung, he backed out of Rose Parker’s office. What the heck did she want him to do? Adopt the widow and her kid? He’d barely met Cassidy, and she’d hated his guts on sight. He’d never even laid eyes on the woman’s son. Frowning, he made his way back down the hall to the nurses’ station.

He was passing directly in front of the tall desk when a series of alarms beeped simultaneously. One of the nurses called out, “It’s Cody. Respiratory distress. Heart’s tachycardic. Oxygen sats are crashing.”

Mitch screeched to a halt to avoid being run over by a trio of nurses racing toward the room on the far left. Cody. Cody Frazier. He should keep on walking. Get out of here before he ticked off the kid’s mom any more with his unwelcome presence.

He looked through the glass wall into the room. A medical team worked over the small figure in the bed, and beyond them he caught sight of Cassidy. She was pressed up against the wall just inside a door that must lead out to the hall he’d first met her in. Her eyes were huge and terrified, her hands pressed over her mouth as if she was holding back screams by sheer force of will.

He’d never seen someone simultaneously so afraid and in so much pain. Staggered, he stared at her, unable to tear his gaze away. How long he stood there he had no idea. But at some point one of the nurses gestured Cassidy toward her son’s bed. He watched as she moved to Cody’s side and reached out. Probably to hold his hand.

The transformation on her face was miraculous. The terror faded away and a look of pure adoration lit her entire being from within. Her lips moved as if she was talking, then curved into a smile.

In that moment she personified the strength of a mother’s love like nothing he’d ever seen before. An angel couldn’t have looked down at that child with more devotion. A strange tightness at the back of his throat and a burning sensation in his eyes startled him into an awareness of his surroundings.

He glanced around self-consciously and jolted when he spotted Rose Parker leaning against the wall to his right. Studying him. “How long have you been there?” he blurted.

“Long enough. Maybe you are the one, after all.”

What was she talking about? “I beg your pardon?”

She ignored his question and instead asked, “You headed out soon?”

“I probably ought to stick around and find out how Cody’s doing.”

“That boy’s in God’s hands now. There’s not much any of us can do for him until a donor heart becomes available. Since the doctor has quit scurrying around in there, I’d say the worst has passed. That man beside Cassidy. That’s Dr. Mistler. Best pediatric cardiologist in this part of the country. If he’s not doing anything, then Cody’s okay.”

The physician in question was speaking quietly to Cassidy and she was listening intently to him.

“C’mon. You can walk me out to my car, hot stuff.”

He did as Rose ordered. She was just that kind of woman. “You’d make a heck of a military officer, Ms. Parker.”

“I told you. Call me Rose.” She added gaily, “And I wouldn’t last two minutes in the military. First time someone told me to do something dumb and I told them my opinion of it, they’d bounce me out on my ample behind.”

“They probably would, at that,” he allowed.

The elevator door opened and he held it for her while she stepped inside.

She said warmly, “I got in touch with the Patches of Light folks. Cassidy’s bills will be taken care of tomorrow, thanks to your generous donation.”

All of a sudden this woman seemed to have warmed up to him. Not that Mitch was complaining. She scared him a little. He escorted her into the parking garage and held her car door for her while she climbed into an original, 1970s vintage Dodge Charger.

She rolled down the window to thank him, and then added, “You think about what I said. That girl needs you. And I’m thinking maybe you need her.” On that note, Rose stomped on the accelerator, forcing him to jump back as her muscle car surged forward.

Now, what on earth did she mean by that parting shot?

CHAPTER THREE

Cassidy shifted position and a sharp pain shot through her neck. She woke the rest of the way and the full effect of sleeping in an uncomfortable recliner chair slammed into her. If a load of rocks had been dumped on her, she wouldn’t feel much worse.

With consciousness came memory. She jolted upright. Cody.

The steady beep of his heart monitor soothed her panic. He was still alive. He’d had another heart attack last night. A bad one this time. Although in his condition, they were all bad. And each one took its toll, leaching away a little more of his precious strength. He would need every bit of it to survive a heart transplant—if and when a heart became available.

“There you are, baby girl,” a female voice managed to boom from the doorway and still seem quiet.

“Hey, Rose. How are you this morning?”

“I’m fine. Question is, how are you?”

The social worker had been a godsend, a surrogate mother and sturdy shoulder to cry on over the past few months. The formidable woman had been able to cut through the layers of military bureaucracy and get Cody’s health insurance straightened out when no one else could.

“I’m fine,” Cassidy lied.

“And Cody?”

“He’s stable. He had a heart attack last night, but Dr. Mistler is amazing.”

“Your boy’s the amazing one. He’s some fighter. Like his mama.”

Cassidy didn’t know about that. Her breakdown last night had been pretty epic. And she hadn’t been much better during the crisis with Cody. The encounter with that major had really shaken her up. Of course, she was such a mess right now that it didn’t take much to freak her out.

“I’ve got good news for you, Miss Cassidy.”

She stared at the brimming excitement on the social worker’s face suspiciously. Good things didn’t happen to her these days. “Yeah?” she asked cautiously.

“There’s an organization in town that gives financial aid to single parents in situations like yours...”

With dying kids. It was sweet of Rose to avoid speaking those words aloud. Cassidy tuned back in to what the social worker was saying.

“...rent’s caught up and next month’s is paid in advance. Plus, there’s extra money for other bills,” Rose finished triumphantly.

Cassidy’s mind went blank. Clean-as-a-whiteboard blank. That horrible pile of envelopes and string of nasty messages on my voice mail are going away? She whispered, “It can’t be.”

“It can and it is. If you’d like to bring in your other bills from home, I’ll go over them with you and we’ll figure out how to best use the leftover money.”

Too shocked to sit still, Cassidy leaped to her feet to face the counselor. “But that’s impossible.”

“What’s impossible about it? Mindy Atwood was a mom just like you with not one, but two sick boys in the hospital, a single mom trying to pay her bills, but unable to work because her babies needed her by their sides. She founded Patches of Light to help out other parents like her. Like you. I just wish you’d told me you were in trouble sooner, sweetie. We could’ve saved you a bunch of grief.”

“But why? Why me?”

“Because your boy needs you, Cassidy. I contacted Ms. Atwood last night and she took care of everything.”

“That’s—” she searched for a word “—incredible.”

Rose stepped forward and swept her up in a big, hard hug. “It’s high time something went your way, girl. Next thing you know, your baby’s gonna be going home as good as new. You’ll get on with life, and someday you’ll be able to help out another parent in need the same way Ms. Atwood helped you. It’s a great big circle, life. Everything that goes around comes around.”

Cassidy supposed that was true in theory. But all that had been going around in her life for the past two years was pretty awful. She didn’t need any more of that coming back her way.

“Honey, you look beat. Why don’t you go on home and take yourself a nap and a nice, hot shower? I’ll call you if Cody wakes up.”

Cassidy smiled gratefully at the social worker as she gathered up her purse. “You’ve just lifted a terrible burden off my shoulders. How can I ever thank you?”

“You stay strong for your boy and keep on smiling. That’s thanks enough for me. It’s how we humans roll. We help each other with our loads in life.”

Maybe, just maybe, Rose was right.

* * *

Mitch rolled over in bed, blinking at the bright sunlight coming in his window. His internal body clock wasn’t adjusted to United States time and shouted at him that the sun was in the wrong place. Normally he slept like a baby when he got home to his own bed, but last night he had tossed and turned, disturbed by that Parker woman’s parting comment to him. What did she mean by saying he needed Cassidy Frazier?

He’d never needed anyone. Not since he’d left home at seventeen. He’d gone to college on an ROTC scholarship and never looked back. His parents hadn’t been bad people or abusive. They could be accused of benign neglect, but that wasn’t so unusual these days. They’d been so caught up in the rat race of owning whatever the neighbors did and then keeping up with the bills that they hadn’t had much time for him and his kid brother. He’d learned most of his ethics from superhero cartoons and picked up his competitive edge from video games. The military had provided the structure he craved. Order. Predictability. Heck, three square meals a day.

But a woman? With a kid? What did he need with those? He had no idea if he’d be a half-decent husband, let alone a father. Lord knew his own dad had been a poor excuse for one. Nope, he had his career. That was enough for him.

But an image of that ramp full of families yesterday flashed through his head. The laughter and tears. And love.

Nah. That stuff only led to heartbreak. He’d stick with his job.

And speaking of which, he was on two weeks’ mandatory leave effective today. He’d declined both of the rotations stateside for R & R in the middle of the deployment, preferring to stay in the field with his troops. But there’d been no avoiding this enforced vacation.

What was he going to do with himself? The townhome community he lived in hired a landscaping company to mow all the lawns and common areas, so he had no yard work to catch up on. The guy he’d paid to look after his place was handy and there were no maintenance projects waiting for him. His truck was running fine thanks to the mechanic he’d left it with during his deployment. This was one of those times when he could really use a dog that needed a walk.

At loose ends, he got up, wandered into his kitchen and whipped up a batch of his world-famous pecan pancakes. He ate in front of the TV, catching up on local news. Amazing how he’d been gone for nearly two years and everything was still so much the same. But not for a young woman who’d lost her husband and was on the verge of losing her son.

Why couldn’t he get Cassidy Frazier out of his mind? The terror on her face last night as the doctors fought to save her son was freaking haunting him. Frustrated, he went for a run and showered, but was still unable to shake the image of her from his mind.

Fine. He knew how to recognize a losing battle. He threw on jeans and a golf shirt and headed for the hospital. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to do when he got there, but he was done fighting his instincts, which were shouting at him to get his sorry butt over there.

He knew where to park this time and walked in the main entrance, signed in and got a visitor’s badge with minimal hassle. He headed for ICU *2 and was startled in the elevator to realize that he was nervous. He, who’d faced down enemy mortars, ambushes and deadly firefights, was scared of a slip of a girl with big brown eyes and a perky ponytail.

He stepped out into the curving hall. His gaze went immediately to the spot where he’d first seen her sitting on the floor, hugging her knees and crying her eyes out. Nada. His stomach actually fell a little in disappointment.

He headed for the nurses’ station and asked the first person he saw, a male nurse, “How’s Cody Frazier this morning?”

The answer wasn’t tremendously reassuring. “Holding his own.”

“And his mom?”

“I just came on duty. I haven’t seen her yet.” He turned and headed into Cody’s room.

“Mitch! There you are. I have great news for you.” Mitch looked up as Rose Parker bustled into the central area, her eyes alight. “The Patches of Light folks have taken care of everything. You should have seen Cassidy’s face when I told her. It was like the whole world smiled for a moment.”

His breath caught in his throat. Thank God. “And she has no idea it was me?”

“None.”

“Where is she?”

“I sent her home to get some sleep. Poor child was wiped out after last night.”

The nurse emerged from Cody’s room and joined them. “Cody’s awake. Should we call Mrs. Frazier?”

Conflict played across Rose’s face. “I sent her home less than an hour ago. And she desperately needs some sleep. I’ve got a meeting with another family in a few minutes or I’d go in and sit with Cody.” She turned to Mitch suddenly. “Would you do me a giant favor and go visit with him for a little while?”

“Me?” He didn’t know the first thing about five-year-olds.

“Sure. Why not?”

“What do I talk about with him?”

“You were a five-year-old boy once. You tell me. I have complete faith in you to figure it out.” And with that breezy pronouncement, she turned and abandoned him. Cold. In the middle of the ICU with the nurse looking at him expectantly.

“Will you make the introductions?” Mitch asked the guy drily.

“Sure. Come with me.”

Reluctantly Mitch followed the nurse into the room, which was a tangle of electronics and tubes and monitors. “Hey Cody,” the nurse said quietly. “I brought a friend of your mom’s to meet you.”

Mitchforced himself to step forward. Boy, Cody looked little and lost among all those tubes and wires. He had big brown eyes like his mother, but his hair was very dark like Jimmy’s. He had the look of Jimmy about him, but softer. Younger.

“Hi, Cody. My name’s Mitch. I was a friend of your dad’s.”

The child’s face lit up, albeit weakly. “Really? Can you tell me a story about him?”

Mitch looked doubtfully at the nurse and whispered, “I don’t want to upset him.”

The nurse considered for a moment. “His mom tells him stories about Mr. Frazier all the time. As a rule, Cody seems to enjoy them.”

Mitch turned to the boy. “Do you remember your dad much?”

“Not really. I was pretty little when he went away. And then he had to go to heaven. Pretty cool that God picked him to be an angel, huh?”

Wow. Cassidy had done a nice job of guiding Cody through the loss of his father. This kid seemed pretty well-adjusted over Jimmy’s death. Mitch said carefully, “Your daddy and I were soldiers together....” That made the child’s eyes shine. Mitch pulled up a tall stool beside the bed as he cast about for a harmless story to share about Jimmy. “Well. I met your dad about seven years ago. Before he and your mom were married and before you were born. And your dad was quite a hel—” he corrected himself hastily “—heck raiser. He got in trouble with a few of his buddies for getting into a fight. Have you ever been in a fight?”

Wide-eyed, Cody shook his head.

“Good for you. Your daddy would be real proud to hear that.” But remembering vaguely what it was like to be five, he added in a conspiratorial undertone, “Wanna hear about your dad’s fight?”

A big nod at that.

He launched into a heavily sanitized version of the bar fight that had erupted between a bunch of marines and Jimmy and company. He called upon his own comic-book memories in describing the fight and made sure to paint Jimmy as the hero of the entire encounter.

When his story finally wound down, Cody said eagerly, “Tell me another one!”

“Want me to tell you about what your dad did in the military? It’s pretty cool stuff.” He commenced describing how Jimmy and the other guys in their unit crept to the front lines of war zones and beyond to spot enemy emplacements and call in air strikes and artillery bombardments. Cody was spellbound, and Mitch found himself warming to the project of making the little boy smile.

And then came the questions. Dozens of them. About Jimmy and Jimmy’s job and the military. He was careful about how he portrayed Jimmy. After all, it was Cassidy’s right to determine how her son remembered his father. Mitch assumed she wouldn’t mind him painting Jimmy in a heroic light, however. Given her reaction last night, though, he steered clear of the questions about the military altogether.

Thankfully, Cody drifted to other topics soon enough. He was clearly a bright and curious child. Mitch found himself really enjoying watching how the child’s mind worked.

“Do you like to play games?”

Mitch was caught off guard by Cody’s question. “Sure. How about you?”

“Uh-huh. I like video games and computer games. When I’m feeling good, I can play on that TV. The controller’s over there somewhere.” Cody waved a hand with an IV tube in the back of it.

“I used to be pretty good at video games,” Mitch said. “Wanna have a go with me?”

Cody’s face fell. “Maybe when I’m feeling a little better.”

Wow. What five-year-old turned down playing a video game? It was a stark reminder of just how ill this kid was. Mitch asked gently, “Is there a game you don’t have or would like to learn how to play? I could get it and bring it back.”

Cody considered for a moment and then surprised him by announcing, “Checkers. I want to learn how to play checkers.”

“Dude! You don’t know how to play checkers? Your dad was the unit champ. I’ll bet there’s a checkerboard somewhere in this hospital. Want me to go find one right now?”

“Yeah!”

Mitch chuckled at Cody’s enthusiasm. He went out to the nurses’ station and they called down to the pediatric ward. In about two minutes an orderly came up with a complete checkers setup. Apparently the ICU got what it wanted when it wanted it. He carried the game into Cody’s room.

“I’m not tiring you out, am I?” he asked when he realized the boy’s eyes were closed. “I can come back later.”

Cody’s eyes flew open. “Don’t leave. I don’t know if I’ll be here when you come back.”

Mitch sat down on the stool beside the boy. “What do you mean?”

“I might have to go to heaven.”

Mitch was staggered. What on earth was he supposed to say to that? His first impulse was to deny the truth. To tell Cody he was going to live a long, full life. But he could promise no such thing. Instead, he went with his heart and asked, “Are you scared?”

“Nah, I’m not scared. God loves little children best of all. I’m kinda looking forward to seeing a real, live angel And I’ll get to be with my daddy. Do you suppose that’s why God made him an angel first? So he’d be there waiting for me?”

How was he supposed to answer that? Mitch replied through the sudden tightness in his throat, “I hear angels walk around among us on Earth. They disguise themselves to look like regular people.”

“Why?” Cody asked curiously.

“I suppose so they can help people without them realizing an angel is looking out for them.”

“Do you think I’ll become a walk-around angel?”

Mitch considered him. “I don’t know. But you’d make a great one.”

Cody nodded thoughtfully. “I’d come back and make my mommy happy.”

Talk about a body blow. The child’s words were a punch straight to Mitch’s heart. He struggled to breathe and keep his voice steady. “You already make your mommy very happy. I can see it in her eyes when she looks at you. She loves you with all her heart.”

“Yeah, but she’s scared I’ll die.”

“Of course she’s worried about you. It’s what mommies do. It’s in the mommy handbook.”

“There’s a handbook?” Cody asked.

“Oh, yeah. It has all kinds of rules in it. Like they have to know exactly how to find stuff you lost. And they have to nag you to eat your vegetables and brush your teeth and go to bed on time. And socks. They’re supposed to be all tense about socks matching and staying in pairs in your drawer.”

Cody grinned knowingly. “Then I guess my mommy’s following the rules pretty good.”

Mitch laughed heartily. “Okay, kid. You and me. Combat checkers. You up for it?”

Cody laughed aloud and sat up a little straighter in his bed. Mitch propped a couple more pillows behind him and spread the board out across the boy’s lap. He happened to glance up and was startled to see everyone at the nurses’ station staring in at him and Cody. They looked stunned.

Alarmed, he checked the wires and tubes and monitors. Had he accidentally disconnected something in making room for the checkerboard? Nope, everything was beeping or displaying numbers. He turned his attention to teaching Cody how to play the game. No surprise, the boy caught on immediately. Soon they were deep into a discussion of tactics and making up silly new rules of their own.

It dawned on Mitch that he was actually having a great time with a five-year-old. If his troops could see him now, they’d never believe their eyes.

* * *

Cassidy could not believe her eyes. What was that man doing in her son’s room? She’d made it crystal clear last night to Major McConnell that he could take his sympathy and his offers of help and shove them. The military had already taken more than enough from her and her son.

She stormed forward, but the head nurse, a nice guy named Bill, took her lightly by the arm and forestalled her. The nurse said simply, “He made Cody laugh.”

“What?” Cody hadn’t laughed in weeks. They’d all been deeply concerned about the boy having sunk into a serious depression. The combination of medications, illness, fear and impending death had taken the spark out of her baby.

“Clear as day. A bunch of us heard it. Rose Parker told us to let him sit with Cody. Who’s that guy? He’s been in there with Cody for nearly an hour, and Cody’s been smiling and laughing almost the whole time.”

“What have they been doing?” she asked in shock.

“Talking mostly. He’s been telling Cody stories. Taught him to play checkers. That’s what they’re doing now.”

“Checkers?” she repeated blankly. Jimmy had loved to play checkers. Grief stabbed her heart, as sharp and hot as a newly forged sword. Mitch must have known that about her husband. The kindness of teaching her son pierced the outer layer of her emotional defenses just a little. But the major was still a major and unpleasant reminder of a military she had no use for.

Reluctantly she allowed that she ought to thank him for teaching Cody the game his father had loved. Then she’d kick him out.

CHAPTER FOUR

Righteous fire burning in her gut, Cassidy barged into Cody’s room. But she stopped cold as her son looked up at her, his eyes glowing with laughter and life she hadn’t seen in them for months. Had the nurse not warned her, she’d have broken down in tears with the relief that at least a piece of her lively son was back, if only for a little while.

“Hey, Cody,” she choked out. “Whatchya doin’?”

“Mommy, this is Mitch. He knew Daddy. And he told me stories about him. Did you know Daddy got into a big fight before I was born? And he got in trouble for it. And Mitch had to put him in jail overnight. Mitch says Daddy was a hero, but he had to keep Daddy’s superhero identity a secret and everything.”

She sort of followed that. But she got lost around the superhero bit. Nonetheless, it was incredible to hear Cody babbling in excitement. She looked over at the man sitting still and silent on the opposite side of the bed.

“Thank you,” she said simply.

“No problem. Cody’s a great kid. We’ve been having a ball. Although he’s been kicking my butt at checkers. Takes after his old man.”

A sob climbed in her chest at the mention of Jimmy. She’d had no one to talk with about him since he’d died. In fact, he was a subject everyone assiduously avoided around her. It was weird to hear Mitch refer to her husband so casually.

She pushed a shock of hair off her son’s forehead. “How are you feeling, kiddo? Are you tired?”

Cody shrugged and his gaze slid away from hers. He was tired, but he didn’t want to admit it.

Mitch dived in. “Tell you what, buddy. How about you take a little nap while I talk with your mom? I promise I’ll come back to visit you later.”

“Promise?”

Mitch held out his big, tanned hand to Cody. “Pinkie swear.”

Cody hooked his much smaller finger in Mitch’s and they shook on the promise solemnly.

Cassidy led the way out of her son’s room, her insides in turmoil. She wanted this man and all he represented far, far away from her son. And yet, Cody hadn’t been that happy or animated in...forever.

“When’s the last time you ate?” Mitch asked.

“Uh, I had some cereal a little while ago.”

“Let me take you out for lunch.”

“But I can’t leave—”

“Cody’s taking a nap. I tired him out pretty thoroughly. And you need to take care of yourself. C’mon. I’m buying. I know this great rib joint.” He took her elbow and gently but firmly guided her to the elevator.

She blinked up at him, shocked. No one had paid any attention to her well-being in longer than she could remember. Sometime in that vague haze of memory before Jimmy had gone away. She hardly knew what had happened before Mitch installed her in the passenger side of his truck and drove away from the hospital.

Just as panic began to set in at leaving her son behind, he glanced over at her and said reassuringly, “We’ll keep it short. I promise. The nurses have your cell phone number, right? I’m sure they’ll call if he wakes up.”

“I had to give up my cell phone. I couldn’t afford it.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, what happened to your survivor’s gratuity and Jimmy’s life insurance from the military?”

Embarrassed, she answered, “Cody happened. We’ve been trying experimental medicines and treatments to buy him more time until they find a new heart. I had to pay out of my own pocket for the stuff the military health care system doesn’t cover.”

He nodded in silent understanding.

The ride to the restaurant was short. With quiet authority, he explained to the waiter that they had a child in the hospital and needed to be served right away. In no more than two minutes, heaping plates of spareribs, home fries, coleslaw and home-style biscuits dripping in butter were set before them.

Cassidy dug in with hunger she hadn’t realized she had. For the first time in a long time the food tasted good, and she ate with gusto.

Mitch questioned her over the meal about Cody’s illness, and she described as best she could the rare congenital heart disease that had revealed itself not long after Jimmy died. Mostly, Mitch just listened. She was surprised to discover what a relief it was to talk about it. The lousy timing of Cody’s illness, the fight to get the military to cover his costs, trying to deal with grief and fear and still research Cody’s condition as much as she could.

She wound down, embarrassed at the way she’d dominated the conversation., “I’m sorry. You must think I never shut up.”

“It’s all good. Sounds to me like you needed to vent. I’m glad I was here to listen.”

Maybe this guy wasn’t such a giant jerk, after all. She smiled shyly at him from behind a naked rib bone. “Do I have barbecue sauce all over my face?”

“Maybe a little.” He reached across the table with a napkin to dab at her cheek. Their gazes met and she was shocked to see warmth there. Male interest. As in he might actually find her attractive. Whoa.

He threw cash onto the table to cover the check and a generous tip and moved around behind her chair to hold it for her. “C’mon. We’ve got an errand to run before we head back to the hospital.”

She frowned, confused, but followed him out to his truck. My, he was tall. And his sculpted biceps announced that he was both strong and fit. Must lift weights. From the leanness of his waist, she guessed he ran a fair bit, too. Out of that hated uniform that set her teeth on edge, he really was a handsome man.

She climbed into his truck, turning over the way he’d looked at her in the restaurant. Surely she had misinterpreted that look. But her womanly intuition said in no uncertain terms that she hadn’t. Huh. What on earth was she supposed to do with that?

He merged into traffic, but headed away from the hospital. Frowning, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I don’t much like surprises these days,” she muttered.

“I suppose you don’t,” he answered evenly. “You’ve had some nasty ones recently, haven’t you?”

She didn’t quite know how to answer that. Thankfully, he continued talking and saved her from having to make a response.

“In my experience, a run of bad luck is usually followed by a run of good luck. I figure you’ve got some great karma stored up and waiting to break your way.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears,” she replied fervently.

He smiled over at her, his eyes doing that warm, glowing thing again. The traffic signal changed to green and he turned his attention back to driving. Except he continued talking. “You’re a strong woman. I admire how you’ve held up. But you don’t have to go it alone, you know.”

She did her best to keep bitterness out of her voice. “That’s what they all say. They pat your hand and tell you how sorry they are. But they don’t actually do anything. I’ve learned over the past year that talk is cheap.”

His face took on a thoughtful look. “I can see that. People are happy to be there for you in the first few weeks of loss and grief. But when it comes to the long haul, to rebuilding your life and moving on, they don’t want to stick around for the hard work.”

“Exactly,” she replied, relieved to hear her precise thoughts expressed aloud.

He turned into a shopping center, and she was alarmed as he parked in front of a cellular service store. How humiliating was it going to be to have to explain that she couldn’t afford this? But then she remembered Rose mentioning that after her rent and debts were paid there was a little extra money left over for other expenses. The credit cards about to be canceled came to mind. And that last batch of medical bills—

“Out you go,” Mitch said jauntily from beside her as he held her door open..

Startled, she climbed out of the truck. He rounded the cab to shut her door, and she caught a whiff of male aftershave and guy deodorant. The masculine scents nearly brought her to her knees with longing. She’d missed having a man in her life all this time.... She corrected herself sharply. She missed Jimmy. Love didn’t strike twice in one lifetime, and she’d already had her shot at it.

Mitch led her into the store and, predictably, took charge. “The lady needs a cell phone with a bunch of minutes preloaded onto it.” He rattled off a model number that she didn’t recognize. But then, she’d never been much of a techie. That had been Jimmy’s department.

A clerk efficiently pulled out a snazzy cell phone and laid it on the counter in front of her. “How many minutes would you like to load on it, sir?”

“I think two thousand will get us started.”

Two thousand minutes? That was going to cost a small fortune! “Mitch, I can’t afford—”

“My treat. The hospital needs to be able to get in touch with you. It’s crazy for you not to have a phone. It’s the least I can do.”

“I can’t let you. Lunch is one thing, but this is too much.”

He looked her square in the eye and the full impact of his personality struck her. Forcefully. This was a man used to getting his way. To being in charge. To taking care of other people. “No,” he said distinctly. “It’s not too much.”

End of discussion. Well, then. Apparently the man was buying her a prepaid cell phone and that was that. Taken aback, particularly by the way her stomach was fluttering excitedly over someone else taking charge for a little while, she said nothing. Mitch programmed his phone number into her contact list and passed it to her as they walked out of the store.

“Back to the hospital now?” she asked in a bit of desperation. This man was knocking her more off balance with every passing second. She needed to get away from him. Catch her bearings.

“Sure.”

* * *

But it didn’t get any better the next day when he showed up at the hospital again and threw her completely off-kilter by asking, “When’s the last time your car had an oil change?”

Or the next day when he brought her a breakfast picnic—complete with pecan pancakes he’d made at home—and spread out a red-checked cloth on the floor of the waiting room..

Or the next day when groceries appeared in bags beside her car with a note to eat more. He’d kicked her out of the hospital that afternoon to go home and take a nap while he played checkers with Cody.

Or the next day over a late lunch in the hospital cafeteria when he sent her into gales of laughter with crazy war stories, then changed the subject abruptly to ask, “When’s the last time your car had new tires or a brake inspection?”

“A brake...what?”

“That’s what I thought. Pass me your car keys. While you go in to check on Cody, I’m getting your car serviced.”

“I...you...but...” she sputtered as he held out a hand with an imperious look in his eye. Finally she demanded, “Has anyone told you how pushy you are?”

He grinned. “Usually they go straight to calling me a control freak and a bastard.”

She laughed helplessly and reached into her purse for her keys. She laid them in his palm and started violently as her fingertips grazed his warm skin. His hand curled into a fist around the keys, and his knuckles brushed against the under side of her wrist. Her pulse leaped and something—urges she hadn’t experienced in two years—leaped to life deep inside her.

Her gaze snapped to his. Ohmigosh. That was definite heat in his blue eyes. They were the dark sapphire of the ocean at the moment, and yet they were practically on fire.

“I’ll be back in no time,” he said. “Call me if anything changes. You’ve got my number.”

If Cody took a turn for the worse, in other words. Sobered by the reminder of her son, she turned and headed back to the ICU. Whether she was hurrying toward her son or away from the man behind her, she wasn’t quite sure. But either way, she was all but running by the time she reached the elevator.

CHAPTER FIVE

Mitch watched thoughtfully as Cassidy fled the scene. What was it about her that was so darned appealing to him? Without question, part of the allure was her fierce loyalty to her son. His own mother had never shown any such mama-bear tendencies. Who’d have guessed a tiny thing like Cassidy had such strength within her?

He got into her car and was not surprised to see a host of warning lights on her dashboard. He drove the vehicle to his mechanic and gave the guy instructions to give the car a bumper-to-bumper checkup and put all the work on his credit card.

Since he had Cassidy’s entire key chain, he drove the loaner car the service station had given him to her place to see what work was needed. He let himself into the dim apartment, feeling like a burglar. But how else was he going to help her? She was so independent and so set on not letting anyone or anything associated with the military offer her assistance. The place was small and clean, but its neatness couldn’t disguise the overall shabbiness.

It took him most of the afternoon to check out the plumbing, wiring, kitchen appliances and air conditioner. Nothing was in terrible shape, but lots of things needed a little tweaking. Maybe the complex’s maintenance man could do the work, but Mitch would rather look after it himself. That way he’d be sure it was done right. He’d start with a trip to the hardware store that night.

* * *

Cassidy was shocked when he showed up the next evening to change light bulbs and fix a leaky faucet, but he caught the smile hovering around the corners of her mouth, and that was all the encouragement he needed. He took home the broken chair that was part of her antique dining set so he could work on it in the shop in his garage.

He returned the chair the following evening, glued, sanded and lightly refinished. He stuck around to get the toilet flushing properly and recruited Cassidy to help him measure her windows for new blinds. The current ones were broken and depressingly institutional looking.

“Mitch, I can’t ever repay you for all you’re doing,” she announced from her end of the tape measure. “You’ve got to stop this,”

“Do you like living with broken stuff?” he asked absently.

“Well, no.”

He stared at her down the length of the yellow tape. “Well, there you have it, then. Move the tape to the top of the frame. Lots of windows aren’t actually square. We have to measure the top and bottom of the opening.”

“Mitch, I’m serious. I appreciate all you’ve done, but I’m starting to wonder why you’ve got so much guilt to work out.”

He released the lock on the tape measure and it slammed back loudly into its case. Cassidy jumped. “What are you talking about?” he demanded.

“You’re feeling guilty about Jimmy’s death, right? That’s why you’re doing all this stuff for me and Cody, isn’t it?”

Shock slammed into him. Was she right? He turned over the notion in his head and finally replied slowly, “I do feel guilt over Jimmy’s death. But I also know there was nothing I could do to keep that artillery battery from misfiring. But that’s not why I’m trying to help out around here.”

“Then why?” she demanded.

He stared hard at her, frustration pounding through him. If there was a reason, it was hiding just out of sight, taunting him. “I don’t know why,” he finally answered. “It feels right.”

Silent, the fun gone from the moment, he followed her into her bedroom to measure the window there for blinds. He couldn’t help but notice the framed picture of her and Jimmy together on a beach somewhere. She looked so much younger in that photo. But then, she’d had to do a lot of growing up in the past fifteen months.

What was he doing? Moving in on a woman who already had a family of her own and a lifetime of memories? Cassidy’s plate was full to overflowing already. The last thing she needed was him complicating her life even further.

Whoa. He wanted to complicate her life? Had changing a few light bulbs and getting some food down her turned into him wanting more? He swore under his breath. When did that happen? No matter how many questions he asked, though, no answers were forthcoming. He packed up his tools and noticed on his way out that the pile of bills had decreased significantly. But the basket that held them still wasn’t empty.

The next morning he stopped by Rose Parker’s office. “Got a minute?” he asked the social worker.

“For a hunk-a-burning-love like you, any time.” She waved him to a chair.

“How is Cassidy doing?” he asked.

“You tell me. You’re the one who’s been spending so much time with her.”

“I meant financially. Does she have her most pressing bills taken care of, or does she need more money? She told me there’s an experimental heart medicine the doc wants to try on Cody but it’ll cost a couple thousand dollars.”

Rose winced. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the specifics of my clients’ situations, but I can tell you she doesn’t have that kind of money lying around.”

“I do,” Mitch replied bluntly. “But I need your help to get it into her hands. Cassidy’s prickly about accepting help.”

“Child’s had to do without it for so long she’s forgotten how to let other folks lend a hand. Although she mentioned you’ve been fixing her car and sprucing up her place for her.”

He shrugged. “I’ve fixed a few things here and there. Her apartment really could use a facelift, but I don’t know the first thing about that kind of decorating stuff.” He looked at the social worker speculatively. “You’re a woman, right?”

Rose laughed heartily. “Last time I checked.”

“Would you swing by Cassidy’s place with me? Help me figure out a few things to make it look nicer? Her birthday’s in a few days, and I’d like to surprise her.”

“My, my, Major. We are full of plans, aren’t we?” He frowned, not sure what the innuendo in her voice meant, but then she added, “I’ll be happy to help you.”

“I’ve got a key to her place, and Cody’s got an appointment this afternoon. We can go then.”

“It’s a date, handsome.”

* * *

It took Rose a couple of hours to inspect the apartment, a day to think and another day to shop. In the meantime, his mandatory vacation blessedly ended and he was able to return to work. But to his surprise, he found his thoughts constantly straying from the job at hand to a cute kid fighting for his life in a hospital and his mother fighting right there beside him.

* * *

During his lunch break the next day, Rose met him at Cassidy’s apartment to stage his birthday surprise. He helped Rose put a new slipcover on the sofa, hang the new curtains, spread a fuzzy flokati area rug in the living room and add a few throw pillows. He stood back to examine her efforts.

With the new Roman shade open and sunlight flooding the space, the living room didn’t look or feel like a depressing dungeon anymore. The place looked light and fresh and welcoming now. Cassidy deserved to come home to something like this.

“Much better,” he declared.

“Amazing what a little TLC can do for a soul,” Rose said significantly.

Was she talking about Cassidy’s soul or his? He couldn’t tell.

He passed by the bill basket on his way out and was pleased to see it almost empty. He didn’t know what story Rose had used to explain the new round of financial aid, and he didn’t want to know. Whatever worked to get Cassidy to accept his help. He recruited Rose to help him tape a big Happy Birthday sign on the front door. After a quick call to make sure there were no crises at the office, he headed back to the hospital with Rose.

“How’s Cassidy’s bill situation after that last check I wrote?” he asked.

“Better than it’s been in a long time, I gather. Oh, and I talked to Dr. Mistler. He’s willing to tell Cassidy that a grant covered the cost of the new medicine so she won’t find out you paid for it.”

“Thanks, Rose.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t tell her about how you’re paying her bills and financing her son’s medication? If she finds out on her own, she’s going to be spitting mad at you.”

“Then I guess she can’t find out, can she?” he replied lightly.

He might not be able to bring her husband back, but he could darned well make her life a little less stressful. She was too independent to let him help openly. He had no choice but to go behind her back. But Rose’s warning stuck in his craw anyway. Was he making a mistake?

Mitch escorted Rose inside impatiently. Huh. Who’d have guessed he’d be chomping at the bit to see a five-year-old like this? But the kid was a ton of fun to hang out with, and Mitch had gotten used to his daily visits with the little squirt.

He stepped into an unnatural hush and his heart lurched. A cluster of scrubs surrounded Cody’s bed, although the medical staff didn’t appear to be working frantically over the boy as they had the night he’d had his heart attack.

“What’s up?” he asked the lone nurse at the station.

“Cody’s having a bad day.”

“What does that mean?”

“Breathing distress. Bad oxygen saturation numbers. Heart arrhythmia.”

His chest clenched in worry. “Can’t anything be done to move him up on the transplant waiting list?”

“He’s already at the very top of it. Problem is he needs a child-sized heart. And little kids don’t die every day. Plus, lots of parents haven’t gotten around to designating their young children as organ donors. Hearts for kids just aren’t that common.”

A sense of helplessness coursed through Mitch, foreign and toxic. He was used to fixing a problem. His life was all about taking action. Controlling combat situations. Creating environments where victory was inevitable. But Cody was different. Mitch was powerless to help the boy, and he hated it.

No wonder Cassidy could be so prickly. She must be going crazy, feeling so helpless. Particularly if she was anything like him—and his impression was that they had a great deal in common.

“Can I go into Cody’s room? I’d like to say hi to Cassidy.”

The nurse smiled warmly at him. “I imagine she could use a friend right about now. I’ll need you to put on a mask and gown.”

He suited up like a surgeon and headed into Cody’s room. He was surprised to see the little boy awake and alert. For some reason he’d expected Cody to be sleeping or unconscious.

“Mitch!” Cody gasped in a horrible wheeze.

Cassidy looked up at him, and he couldn’t see her expression behind her surgical mask, but he thought that was gratitude in her eyes.

He moved to Cody’s side. “Hey, buddy. How do like my getup? Do I look like a superhero?”

“Look like...Dr. Mistler,” Cody gasped.

“Don’t let me try surgery on you, okay? I’m a lot better at checkers than cardiology.”

Cody smiled weakly at him and inhaled hard through the oxygen tube under his nose. Mitch stepped back from the bed and joined Cassidy on the far side of the room. “How are you holding up?” he murmured to her.

“I’m fine.”

She wasn’t fine, but he also understood that she wasn’t going to admit to any weakness when Cody might hear her. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“We need to distract Cody from his breathing problems. He gets panicked and tenses up, and that only makes things worse.”

“I might be able to do something about that.” Mitch moved back over to Cody’s side. “Hey, Cody. I was thinking about how good you are at checkers, and I think you might be old enough to learn how to play backgammon. Your dad was a killer backgammon player, too. He used to bet with the guys in our unit, and he took all their money from them.”

“Really?” Cody wheezed.

“Yup. Lemme see if there’s a backgammon board in the hospital and I’ll show you how it goes.”

Without him having to say a word, one of the nurses nodded at him and left the room quickly. In less than five minutes a backgammon board was placed in his hand.

“Okay, Cody. You lie back for now. I’m going to hold the board up so you can see it.” Mitch showed Cody the board and the colored plastic game pieces. He explained how the disks were placed and then moved around the board’s painted arrows. As he did so, the beeps around the bed gradually steadied.

Cody announced in a stronger voice, “I want to play.”

Mitch glanced at the medical staff for permission, and they carefully propped Cody up and positioned the board across his lap. Mitch said, “Your mom’s getting left out. How about we have her roll the dice for you and move the pieces you tell her to?”

“‘Kay.”

And the game was on. As Mitch expected, Cody caught on fast. There were many nuances to the game that a five-year-old couldn’t grasp, but Cody’s eyes lit with pleasure as Cassidy moved his pieces moved around the board.

“Tell me a story about my daddy,” he said at last, pushing the backgammon board aside.

Mitch complied, although he avoided any tales that might excite Cody. He described everyday life in a military unit and included a few anecdotes about Jimmy. In a little while, Cody’s eyelids grew heavy.

Mitch said, “I’m getting pretty tired, little buddy. Would you mind if I went out in the waiting room and took a nap?”

Cody retorted sleepily, “You want me to take a nap.”

“Caught me.” Mitch chuckled. “Sweet dreams.”

“‘Kay.” Cody’s eyes closed, and the beeps slowed even more.

A nurse came to sit on the high stool beside Cody’s bed while the others in the room filed out silently As the door clicked shut, another nurse said, “Nicely done, sir.”

Cassidy dropped her mask and Mitch did the same. He was startled to see tears in her eyes. He was even more surprised when she flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

She was all sweetness and soft warmth as he held her close. “Thank you,” she whispered against his chest,

“My pleasure.”

She stepped back from him and looked away awkwardly. His arms felt cold and empty and he had to restrain the urge to fold her in his embrace again.

“I have some good news and some bad news for you,” he said to fill the gap between them.

She looked up in quick alarm.

“The good news is Rose and I stopped by your apartment earlier and left you a birthday present. The bad news is I don’t know when you’re going to be able to go see it.”

She frowned as if she was having trouble processing someone doing such a thing for her. He supposed it might be an adjustment for her after being on her own for well over a year. Particularly when the person helping her represented the military—the focus of her anger and resentment since her husband’s death.

“I don’t know what to say,” she finally mumbled.

“No need to say anything at all,” he replied cheerfully. He turned to the nearest nurse. “Is Cody down for the night?”

“Most likely. He had an exhausting afternoon.”

Mitch dived in. “Tell you what. I’ll spend the night here with Mr. Cody. You go home and get a decent rest in your own bed.”

“Are you always this bossy?” she retorted.

“Always.”

It took a little more arguing and persuasion, but eventually she capitulated and headed for the elevator. He grinned at her back and then walked into Cody’s room, feeling well pleased with the day’s work.

* * *

Cassidy smiled at the silly, handmade poster taped to her front door. Mitch might be great with a wrench, but not so much with glitter glue. Still, the card was a sweet gesture. She unlocked her front door wearily. How had she ever managed before he blasted into her and Cody’s lives? She was exhausted and emotionally wrung out by today’s crisis, and a hot bath and full night’s sleep sounded like heaven on earth.

She flipped on the light switch. What the—

The couch was different. And where had that rug come from? And the room was brighter than she’d ever seen it. A new floor lamp? The living room was colorful and cheerful...how had Mitch known this would be exactly her taste? Rose must have helped him pick this stuff out. God bless her.

The kindness and thoughtfulness of this birthday present overwhelmed her. Tears filled her eyes and she stumbled to the kitchen...and saw the cupcake on the counter. It was lopsided and the frosting looked like a piping experiment gone terribly wrong.

But there was a candle stuck in it and a box of matches on top of a note signed by Mitch that read, “Light this candle and make a wish. Remember the light in our lives never truly goes out as long as we have hope.”

Tears spilled onto her cheeks as she lit the candle. She hummed “Happy Birthday” to herself and then blew it out. The flame sparked and momentarily went out, but then it flared again. She laughed and blew it out again. And it flickered back to life. It was one of those trick candles...but it made Mitch’s point. She’d been dangerously close to giving up before he walked into the ICU a few weeks ago.

How had he come to know her so well in such a short time? He’d known that she wouldn’t listen to logical arguments, but she would get the message from a silly birthday candle on a hideously ugly cupcake made beautiful by the caring and concern that went into baking it. Was she ready to let Mitch this far inside her life? Into her heart?

She moved into her bedroom and stopped to look at the picture of her and Jimmy. Their honeymoon seemed like a lifetime ago. She would never forget him, never stop loving him. And she would always be grateful for the gift of Cody. But her life had moved so far beyond that innocent time of young love that it was becoming a distant memory. She’d fought against the march of time, against letting go of Jimmy. But maybe it was inevitable.

She kicked off her shoes and moved back out into the living room. Her bare toes luxuriated in the deep fur of the new rug. Cody was going to love flopping in front of the television when—if—he came home.

Her stomach growled. Another new development since Mitch McConnell had exploded into her life—she paid attention to eating. She headed for the kitchen and grabbed a bag of salad mix from the refrigerator.

She and Jimmy had dated all the way through high school and married as soon as she’d turned eighteen. She’d moved from her parents’ care to his care. He’d enlisted in the military and they’d immediately moved into base housing. He’d taken care of everything. Of her. The house. The car. The bills. Any crises that came along. But all of that had changed when he died. She’d had to grow up in the space of a doorbell ringing and, a few months later, a doctor’s single sentence, “Mrs. Frazier, your son has a problem.”

She’d proven to herself, to everyone really, that she could take care of herself and Cody. No one had believed she could do it. But she had. Sure, things had slipped between the cracks. How could they not with Cody in and out of the hospital with steadily deteriorating health?

But then the money had run out. That was when things began to fall apart. And then Cody had his first heart attack. She’d quit her job as an office manager to be with him full-time, and the bills began to get away from her. But what choice did she have? Her baby was dying. She had to stay at his side. To spend every single precious minute with him, never knowing what day, what hour, what minute might be his last.

She pulled in a sobbing breath as she picked up the cupcake and removed the paper liner. And then Mitch McConnell had come along and swept aside the mountain of nightmares piled on top of her as if they were nothing. She almost resented how easily he’d made at least some of her problems go away. She banged a fist on the counter in frustration. She wasn’t ready for him to come into her life! But if not now, when? If she didn’t let go of the past sometime, how could the future ever find her?

A tiny voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously like Mitch whispered, Yes, it’s time.

An image of Jimmy’s face the night Cody was born flashed into her head. Furious at herself for her momentary disloyalty to him, she picked up her cell phone—Mitch’s cell phone, the one he’d bought and paid for—and jabbed in his number.

“Hey, Cassidy,” he said brightly.

She gritted her teeth at his cheerful voice. “I need you to leave me and my son alone. Get out of our lives.”

“Why?” He sounded confused.

“Because I can’t afford to need anyone. I can’t forget. Don’t you understand?”

“No. I don’t. Please explain it to me.”

It was simple: if she forgot Jimmy, who would remember him? “I have no room in my life for anyone else. I have to get through this on my own. I have to be strong for Cody.”

“You can be strong and still let people help you. In fact, I’ve always thought it takes mores strength to let people lend a hand than not.”

The argument was reasonable...and made her completely crazy. Her voice rose. “That’s just your guilt talking. You need to help me to deal with your own conscience.”

“I’m not having this conversation over the phone. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“No! Didn’t you hear me? I don’t want you in my life.”

“I don’t believe you,” he said flatly. “Your mouth is saying the words, but your eyes keep saying something entirely different.”

“My—what?”

“I’m on my way.” The connection went dead in her ear.

She stared at the now silent phone in shock. He’d done it again! Just taken over! Fine. He could come over here, and she’d tell him once and for all to get out of her life. She raced for the bathroom to brush her hair and throw on a little makeup.

It dawned on her as she took out her mascara exactly what she was doing. She was primping for Mitch. Damn him! She stuffed the brush back into the tube and stomped to her closet to put on her rattiest sweatpants and baggiest sweatshirt. She just had time to yank her hair up into a ponytail before a firm knock sounded on her front door.

Stormily she let him in. Of course, he looked totally put together, his khaki slacks sharply creased, his casual shirt a perfect fit, his short hair neat. She wasted no time getting to the point. “Mitch, you’ve got to stop this.”

“And what would this be, exactly?”

“Everything! I appreciate what you’ve done, but I’m not some charity case.”

He frowned. “I’ve never thought of you that way.”

“Then once and for all, please tell me why you’re doing all this stuff for me and Cody.”

He shoved a hand through his short hair, the only outward sign of frustration. His voice was maddeningly calm when he answered. “I feel like hell that Jimmy died. I truly wish I could’ve brought him home to you safe and sound. But that’s not how the cards were dealt. All I can do is step in and make sure you and Cody are taken care of.”

Her stomach fell like a brick. So. He was acting purely out of guilt. She was shocked to discover that a tiny part of her had hoped that he cared for her at least a little.

“Consider your guilt officially assuaged. You’ve already done a great deal more than you had to or should have.”

He paced across the room to stare out her window. “Why are you so determined not to let anyone help you?” He spun suddenly. “Or is it more than that? Are you trying to cling to the past and not move on with your own life?”

She stared at him, stunned. How did he know?

“That’s it, isn’t it?” he accused. “Well, I gotta say, living in the past is a pretty dumb way to go through life.”

Her jaw sagged. “You’re calling me dumb?”

In two long strides he was looming over her. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I guess I am.”

“How dare you—” she started.

But then he grabbed both her arms and his mouth swooped down on hers, effectively silencing her. Rage erupted in her gut, but as soon as it exploded, it changed. Expanded. Blossomed into something else entirely.

Her arms snaked up around his neck. With a groan in the back of his throat, he pulled her to him, scooping her off the ground and crushing her against him as if he needed her more than he needed to breathe.

This was insane. And yet part of her didn’t care in the least. She wanted the escape he offered. To feel attractive and cherished. To feel alive.

He swept her up and out of herself, carrying her away to a place of pure sensation. He completely filled her senses, overwhelmed her until all she could think about, all she could feel, was Mitch. Only Mitch—

She shoved him away and staggered back, wiping her mouth frantically with her hand. Wiping away the feel of him, the mind-numbing pleasure...but it didn’t work. She still tasted him. And worse, she still craved him.

“Are you all right?” Mitch asked in concern.

She shook her head, too stunned at the raging need pounding through her to speak.

He speared his fingers through his short hair again. “I’m so sorry, Cassidy. It’s not like your life is exactly simple. And we’ve just complicated it even more.”

Had they? She would eventually forget what being kissed felt like. She could pretend it had never happened and things would go back to the way they’d been before. Right?

“Look, Cassidy. I realize we should have talked about this before I hauled off and kissed you like that. And we should have spent more time getting to know each other. Built a solid foundation before we took our relationship further.”

She was grateful her back was turned and he couldn’t see the tears brimming in her eyes. Her heart ached unbearably. He was right. Kissing him had been foolish in the extreme. A huge mistake.

“But what’s done is done,” he continued. “I won’t lie and say I regret it, because I don’t. I may be a bastard for feeling that way, and I’m sorry. But I wouldn’t have done things any differently. If everybody waited for all the pieces to be in the right places before they took a shot at relationships, no one would ever end up together.”

A relationship? She’d felt some pretty overwhelming terror over the past few months, but the fear that roared through her when he said that word was right up there.

Mitch was speaking again. “...learned from Jimmy’s death, and from meeting you and Cody, is that life is too short to waste time not going straight for the things we want.”

Her jaw sagged. It flapped a few times before she managed to form any words at all. Was he hinting that he wanted her? “But you’ve known me less than a month.”

“I know you more than you think. I’ve seen you handle a life-and-death crisis, and your son is as courageous as you are. Both of you are stronger than steel. You’re fighting a battle that would have broken most people.”

“I was pretty close to breaking that night you first walked into the ICU,” she admitted painfully. “Then a group called Patches of Light swept into my life. They paid my rent and gave me money to cover my most desperate bills. They kept me from getting evicted from this place. Kept my utilities turned on. Were it not for them, I’d have been living out of my car by now, and there’d be no chance to get Cody his new medication.”

A shadow passed over Mitch’s face. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something. Closed it again. What was that all about? Eventually he said, “I’m glad they were there for you. All parents should be able to be with their children during life-threatening illnesses.”

“I hope someday I can pay them back. Maybe help some other parent.”

“If you set your mind to it, I’m sure you will.”

She would have thanked him for believing in her, but her cell phone rang, interrupting her. She forced herself not to panic when she saw the number of the ICU nurses’ station. “Cassidy Frazier.”

“Hi, baby. This is Rose from the hospital. There may be a heart for Cody.”

CHAPTER SIX

Mitch had never moved so fast in his life. He and Cassidy tore out of the apartment and down to his truck. He raced across town like a formula one driver, using every offensive driving skill he’d learned in the military. They sprinted into the hospital and didn’t slow down until they were standing in the elevator watching the floor numbers ding past.

“You okay?” he asked Cassidy. Her face was pale, her eyes unnaturally large.

She shook her head, and he pulled her into his arms for a quick, hard hug. The fact that she didn’t protest was an indication of just how distracted she was.

The door opened and he turned her loose. The ICU floor was crowded with medical personnel he didn’t recognize. The only one he knew was Dr. Mistler. “Who are all these people?” he muttered to Cassidy.

“Transplant team.”

She reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers until they went numb as the doctors explained there had been a car accident in Columbus. A young child who was a designated organ donor was in intensive care in the Ohio State University Hospital and not expected to live. The team here needed to do a series of tests to match Cody’s blood and tissue with the potential donor’s, and they had to do it fast. She scrawled her signature a half dozen times on various forms, and the team surged into Cody’s room.

He and Cassidy followed. At first the child looked alarmed and his beeping monitors went wild. But then he saw his mother and his face relaxed. The little boy looked over at Mitch and mouthed, “Hi.”

“Hey, buddy,” Mitch replied, grinning. Man, he admired that kid. Feeling what had to be complete terror, Cody could still smile at him and Cassidy. The child remained stoic through a series of pokes and prods and an ultrasound of his heart.

And then, as fast as the mob had descended upon the ICU, it disappeared. In a few minutes, only Rose Parker and the bedside nurse were left.

“Now what?” Cassidy asked. Mitch heard the quaver in her voice.

Rose gestured for the two of them to step out into the central area. The woman closed Cody’s door behind them before answering, “Now we wait, honey.”

“How long?”

“Until that poor child in Columbus dies.”

Cassidy slapped a horrified hand over her mouth. “Here I was all excited about Cody getting better when some other family is about to lose their precious baby.” She turned into Mitch’s chest and he felt tears wet his skin through his shirt.

This compassion was part and parcel of why he was falling for her so hard and fast. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Rewind. Falling for a woman? Him?

He turned the notion over in his head a few times and decided it wasn’t so difficult to believe, after all. Cassidy was the most extraordinary mom he’d ever met. Exactly the kind of mother he wished his own had been—

His thoughts derailed. He wasn’t doing some bizarre need-fulfillment thing here, was he? Although his conscious mind denied the idea adamantly, part of him doubted the denial.

“What do we do now?” Cassidy was asking the social worker.

“Go sit with Cody,” Rose answered practically. “See if you can get him to go back to sleep.”

Still dumbfounded at the idea of falling for anyone, Mitch followed Cassidy into her son’s room and went through the motions of cheering as Cassidy and Cody played a few games of checkers. Thankfully, the hour was late and Cody’s sleep schedule had been interrupted. The little boy soon tired and Cassidy sang him to sleep so sweetly Mitch had to restrain an urge to weep. This was not about his own lousy mother!

Cassidy tiptoed out of Cody’s room and he followed her into the small private waiting room for the families of ICU patients. It was empty but for the two of them.

She sat down on the sofa and he cautiously took the seat across from her. She curled into a little ball, almost like a child herself. One he desperately wanted to comfort. But they didn’t need any repeats of that kiss. Or more accurately, Cassidy didn’t. He could seriously use another few thousand kisses from her.

She declared without warning, “I’m a bad person for wanting that child in Columbus to die, but I can’t help it. I want my son to live.”

“You’re not bad. You’re normal. Every parent wants their child to thrive.”

She sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

He ached to move beside her and hold her, but he doubted she would stand for it. Instead, they sat there in uncomfortable silence for some time. The big clock on the wall seemed to be ticking at half speed tonight. Realistically, it could be days before the child in Columbus was finally taken off life support. But still, every few minutes he caught himself checking the time.

Out of the blue, Cassidy asked him, “Where are we headed, Mitch?”

He looked over at her. “What do you mean?”

“You and me. Where do you see this going? I wouldn’t normally ask outright like this, but I have Cody to think about.”

Aloud, he answered, “I understand.” But in his head, a steady stream of swearing erupted. He had no idea where they were going, or if they were going anywhere at all. He’d really like to believe he cared about her for her sake, but he couldn’t be sure. He had to get his head straight and figure it out, but in a hospital, waiting for a heart for Cody, wasn’t the time or place.

She spoke reflectively. “It’s been such a whirlwind since you came into our lives. Less than a month. That’s not even close to long enough to know when someone’s right for you. I do know you make me feel safe, though.”

He winced. “Safe” wasn’t much of a foundation to build a long-term relationship on...if, in fact, that was where they were headed.

As if she’d read his mind, she added hastily, “Not just safe. You make me feel alive, too.” She added shyly, “Like maybe you need me a little.”

And there it was. The crux of the matter. As much as he hated to admit it, he was starting to think he did need her. But why? How was it possible to become so attached to someone so fast unless his motives were completely screwed up?

He surged to his feet, pacing the confines of the room. She was looking at him expectantly, but he didn’t have the faintest idea what to say. His military training would insist that the best defense was a good offense. For lack of any other ideas and beginning to panic, he turned the tables on her. “Why would you even consider me?”

She frowned up at him in confusion. “I just told you.”

“Yes. But why me? Why not some other reasonably decent guy who can make you feel safe by getting your car serviced and fixing the house and paying the rent?”

Whoops.

“Paying the rent?” she repeated ominously. “Patches of Light paid my rent.”

“Yes, they did,” he agreed a shade too hastily. He never had been any good at lying. And now her mommy radar for fibs was on full alert. He didn’t try to sustain the lie. “I wrote them a check and asked to have it earmarked for you.”

She leaped to her feet, eyes snapping. “Why?” she demanded.

“Because you wouldn’t let me help you. I walked down that hall the first night we met, and you took one look at my uniform and hated my guts.”

“The military took away everything from me. My husband and best friend, my life. And they left me with mountains of paperwork and forced me to spend months fighting for the most basic health care for my son. Why shouldn’t I hate the military?”

“I am the military,” he declared. “Don’t you get it?”

“Are you saying you did everything...even kiss me...on behalf of Uncle Sam?” she challenged incredulously.

“Of course not. But the same system that took away Jimmy and made your life hell brought me to you. It can’t be all bad.”

“It is.” Her words were final. Implacable.

His throat tightened up terribly. “But if you reject it, you reject me. It’s my career. It’s who I am.”

“I’m not changing my mind.”

Honestly, he couldn’t blame her—even if he did want to grab her and shake some sense into her. He’d seen her suffering up close and personal, though. An impossible ache in his chest, he headed for the door. “Then I guess that’s it.”

He paused in the doorway only long enough to say, “Good luck with Cody. He’s a great kid.”

* * *

Cassidy fell onto the couch, stunned. How had things gone so wrong so fast? One second the two of them had been chatting like an old married couple, the next they’d been yelling at each other and he’d stormed out.

An unwelcome voice said quietly from the doorway, “Mind if I come in?”

Cassidy really didn’t want to talk to Rose, but the woman had been there for her so many times before, staying late into the night to mop up her tears, that she couldn’t very well turn the social worker away now. She sighed. “Come on in.”

Rose sat down on the other end of the couch and studied her quietly.

“I suppose you heard some of that?” Cassidy asked reluctantly.

“Yup.”

“And?”

Rose turned an innocent stare on her, which didn’t fool Cassidy for a second. “And what?”

“C’mon, Rose. You know you want to say something about my fight with Mitch.”

“I only wanted to remind you that sometimes, when people are under great pressure, they have to vent some steam. I wouldn’t give up on him just because the two of you had a spat in the middle of what must be one of the most stressful moments of your life.”

“It was more than a spat,” Cassidy got out before the tears came. And once they started flowing, it didn’t seem as if they were ever going to stop. Things had been so good for the past few weeks, which made tonight just that much more painful.

Rose held out her arms and Cassidy curled up against the woman’s motherly bosom like a little girl. She cried her heart out. For Jimmy. For Cody. For herself.

And then it dawned on her she was crying for Mitch too. It had hurt her so much to watch him walk out that door. Out of her life. He’d looked as if it must have been just as painful for him.

“I think I’ve made a terrible mistake, Rose.”

“How’s that, baby girl?”

“I just threw Mitch out of my life for good.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not as final as all that,” the woman soothed.

“I don’t know. He was pretty upset. I said some awful things to him. I told him I hated the military, and if he’s in the military, then I pretty much hate him, too.”

“Do you hate him?”

“No!” she cried. “I lo—” She stopped, shocked. She’d been about to say that she loved him. No way. Not after only a matter of weeks. It was just a slip of the tongue, her mind reaching for the opposite of hate. She couldn’t possibly love him even a little. But...

“I dunno,” Rose was saying. “The man who walked past me just now didn’t look angry at all. He looked like he’d had his heart broken.”

“Really?” A momentary spark of hope flared in her breast, but at the memory of the hurtful words she’d flung at him, it flickered and died.

“Why don’t we worry about that later? I came to tell you that the transplant team says Cody’s a match. They might have some news about the condition of the child in Columbus on the hour. That’s in a few minutes. Why don’t we go check on your kiddo and see what the docs have to say?”

Effectively distracted, Cassidy nodded. She blew her nose obediently when Rose passed her a tissue, and the two women headed for Cody’s room. Thankfully, her son was still sleeping.

A doctor she’d never met before approached her after she slipped out of Cody’s darkened room. “The transplant team in Columbus thinks we’ll have a heart sometime tomorrow. We’re going to spend the rest of the night working at stabilizing your son a little more in hopes that he’ll come through the surgery stronger. In the meantime, I suggest you go home and get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow could be a very long day.”

She nodded and then remembered that Mitch had given her a ride over here. She frowned, staring down at her hands, too numb and exhausted to solve this simple problem. Where was Mitch when she needed him to take care of her?

“Problem?” Rose murmured.

“Mitch brought me over here. I don’t have a way to get home.”

“I’ll give you a lift. C’mon. You look like you could use some rest.”

But when she crawled into her bed, memories of Mitch refused to leave her alone. She tossed and turned until she thought she was going to scream. For a minute there, the two of them had almost had it all. But somehow she’d managed to go and blow it. Worst of all, she already missed him.

* * *

Dawn was creeping around the edges of his curtains before Mitch gave up on sleeping. He’d spent the whole night kicking himself for being a hundred kinds of fool. Why did he have to go and throw it in Cassidy’s face that he was part of the same military that had killed her husband and ruined her life?

Their relationship was too new, too fragile to survive such a blow. Was he just foolish, or was there some subconscious force in him trying to chase her away? Was he scared of his feelings for her? Was that why he’d pushed her away like that?

As soon as the thought occurred to him, he knew it to be true. He was terrified of how fast and hard he was falling for Cassidy and Cody. It was as if he’d been waiting his whole life for the two of them to come along. But now he’d gone and lost them both.

He alternated between fury at himself and grief deeper than any he’d ever known. Eventually he dug himself out of the emotional hole he’d thrown himself into and turned his thoughts toward winning the two of them back. He wasn’t a highly trained military strategist for nothing.

The first order of business was to make contact with Cassidy again. But subtly. Indirectly. He drove over to the military base and paid a visit to the finance office. He’d had the folks there reviewing Jimmy Frazier’s beneficiary paperwork, and they’d found several crucial errors.

Mitch was relieved to hear that starting in a few weeks, several hundred dollars more per month of Social Security money would be released to Cassidy. Furthermore, the last fifty thousand dollars of Jimmy’s life insurance policy that had been withheld pending a search for his parents—who were both deceased according to Cassidy—was going to be released to the widow. He was assured the check would take no more than two weeks to arrive in her mail.

He wished there was more he could do for her. He had a driving need deep in his gut to make her happy. To see her smile and hear her laugh. He’d had crushes in the past, but this obsession with making another human being happy was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He didn’t know how or why it had happened at the speed of light, but it was unquestionably real.

He made his way toward the hospital to tell Cassidy about the change in her benefits; he’d learned the hard way not to do such things behind her back. And as he drove, something incredibly obvious dawned on him. It didn’t really matter why he’d fallen for Cassie. The fact that he had was all that mattered.

If watching young men die in war had taught him nothing else, it was to live in the now and not to ask too many why questions. Like why did one kid die when another one lived? Why had he survived? Why did war exist? Why did he care so much about a widow and her young son so soon after meeting them?

He just did.

Now to convince her of that.

* * *

Cassidy stared at Cody in dismay. How was she going to convince him to cooperate with the doctors? The helicopter would be here in a half hour to airlift him to Columbus. But her normally sweet and tractable son had dug in his heels and was throwing the mother of all hissy fits. He was absolutely determined that he was not leaving this place until he saw Mitch.

The doctors looked exasperated and told her that they couldn’t sedate Cody because of the anesthesia required for the transplant surgery. They basically ordered her to do whatever it took to get control of her kid. Now.

“Cody, baby. You need to let the nurse hook up the portable oxygen system.”

“No! I want Mitch! I have to talk to him!”

The lead doctor interrupted. “Is this Mitch close by?”

“I don’t know. I suppose so,” Cassidy answered reluctantly. She saw where this was going.

“Then get him over here. The more upset Cody gets, the more unstable his heart rate will become. If he crashes now, we can forget going ahead with the transplant.”

Cassidy stared at the man in horror. Cody could lose his shot at a new heart? She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Mitch’s number. Truth be told, she was grateful for the excuse to talk to him again. She’d had no idea how they were going to get past last night’s impasse, but she desperately wanted to put it behind them.

“Hi, Cassidy,” he said pleasantly enough. “How’s Cody?”

“Mitch, I’m really sorry to bug you, but I have a huge favor to ask.”

“Anything. It’s yours,” he answered promptly.

He sounded as if he seriously meant that. Even after she’d been such a witch to him last night? Wow. “Cody’s throwing a giant tantrum and insists on seeing you before they fly him up to Columbus. Could you come over to the hospital in, like the next few minutes, to calm him down?”

“I’m on my way.”

“Thanks so much.”

“Any news on the donor heart?”

“They say expiration is imminent. Within a few hours.” It hurt to talk about another child’s impending death, but if Cody lived because of it, maybe some good could come of the tragedy.

“Okay, Cassie. I’m in heavy traffic, so I’d better hang up. Tell Cody I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Thanks again, Mitch.”

“You’re welcome, darlin’.”

She stared at her cell phone as the connection went dead. He’d called her darling? What did it mean? Or was it just a casual endearment? Except he’d never called her that before—

She had no time to ponder the question because Cody demanded, “What did he say? Is he coming?”

“Yes, he’s coming. He said to tell you he’ll be here in five minutes. Will you let the nurse change over your oxygen now?”

“Yes, Mommy.” And just like that, the monster child turned into a model of perfect cooperation. Little stinker, she thought affectionately. He and Mitch were two peas in a pod. They knew what they wanted, and they didn’t give up until they got it.

Mitch’s declaration from last night echoed in her head. I am the military. He was right, of course, Military careers didn’t get left at the office at quitting time. It was a way of life, not just a job. But did she want him, military and all? Could she love another man whose life belonged first to his country and only second to his family? The notion made her almost sick with fear.

Thankfully, the last-minute preparations for Cody’s flight to Columbus distracted her. At last he was ready to go. Now they just had to wait for the helicopter—and Mitch—to get here.

She felt his presence in the ICU before she saw him. She looked up sharply when she heard the elevator opening outside and was startled to realize she was smiling. Mitch appeared in the doorway, as handsome as usual, and her heart flip-flopped.

He strode into Cody’s room, and her son’s face lit up with a broad smile. He’s as besotted with Mitch as I am.

“Hey, buddy. I hear you get to take a helicopter ride. Are you excited?”

“I’m kinda scared,” Cody confessed.

Mitch grinned reassuringly. “They’re really cool. Your daddy and I rode in them all the time. They make you talk funny...like this.” Mitch pounded his chest rapidly as he spoke, making his voice wobble.

Cody smiled. Cassidy’s heart expanded at the sight. She was scared to death of what would happen in the next few hours—they were going to remove her son’s heart from his body, for crying out loud—and here he was, grinning happily. She might attribute his lack of concern to the ignorance of youth, but Cody was a smart cookie, and he knew full well what was about to happen to him.

Mitch sat down on the edge of her son’s bed, perched beside the various tubes and wires. “So, Cody. I hear you wanted to talk with me before you left. Anything in particular on your mind, son?”

Cassidy sucked in a sharp breath as the word son fell from Mitch’s lips. It sounded so good it hurt. Cody’s face abruptly went serious. “It’s important.”

Mitch nodded, matching the boy’s serious expression. “I’m listening.”

“I had a dream last night. I saw my daddy, and he’s an angel. He said he would be waiting for me if I come to heaven to be with him.”

Cassidy’s hand went to her mouth and tears leaped to her eyes. How Mitch was maintaining his composure, she had no idea.

He reached out to push the hair off Cody’s forehead. “Your daddy loves you very much. As much as your mommy and I do.”

She stared at him, shocked and hopeful. He loved Cody? Really? Or was he just saying that to comfort a scared kid on his way to a dangerous operation?

“That’s what I have to talk to you about,” Cody continued. “My daddy said you are an angel, too. And he sent you to watch after Mommy and me. If I go to heaven, you have to promise to look out for Mommy.”

Cassidy pulled in a sobbing breath. Cody had to make it through the transplant. She couldn’t live without him.

“Of course. I promise, Cody.”

“Pinkie swear?”

Mitch hooked his big finger in Cody’s tiny, frail one. “My most solemn pinkie swear.”

Cody nodded. “Okay, then. I’m ready.”

One of the nurses stepped forward. “The helicopter’s on final approach to the landing pad upstairs. If you’re ready, Mrs. Frazier, we’ll take you and Cody up top.”

Cassidy nodded. Here went nothing. Cody would either die on the operating table or come out of the surgery with a new heart.

It was as if Mitch read her mind. Strong arms went around her and she was crushed against a big, warm chest.

He whispered against her temple, “Everything will turn out fine. I’ll drive up to Columbus to join you. I should be there in a couple of hours, max. You’ll be okay until I get there?”

She nodded, too choked up to speak. He hadn’t abandoned her and Cody after all.

“I’ll be there for you as long as you’ll have me,” he murmured.

And then he was gone. The transport team whisked in to wheel Cody and a host of machines and monitors out of the room. Someone took her by the arm and guided her into the hall. The next few minutes were a flurry of activity as they relocated to the roof and got Cody and her situated in the sleek, powerful helicopter that would be taking them to Columbus.

It wasn’t until she was strapped into her seat and the bird had lifted off into the afternoon sky that she had a second to think. Had she heard him correctly? As long as she would have him? What if that turned out to be a long time? A very long time, like, oh, forever?

CHAPTER SEVEN

Mitch was normally a conservative driver, but his speed kept creeping up as he headed east toward Cassidy and Cody. He couldn’t bring himself to pray for another child’s speedy death, but he did pray for peace and healing for a family in the midst of a terrible tragedy. And he prayed hard for Cody to be strong and make it through the surgery.

Now that he was crazy about a child himself, he had a deeper appreciation of what the family in Columbus was going through. He also had a powerful appreciation of the gift of life that this organ donation represented. The courage and generosity of one family was giving the greatest gift of all to another.

He hoped that someday the donor family could meet Cassidy and Cody. He’d bet Cassidy would have some powerful words of thanks for them. Goodness knew, he would if he ever got a chance to meet them.

He guided his truck to the Ohio State University Hospital in the middle of the sprawling university campus. He navigated the huge facility and found the Intensive Care Unit. The staff was stubborn about not admitting him, and the heated discussion was threatening to turn into a full-blown argument until Cassidy poked her head out of a room and snapped, “He’s family. Give him a badge.”

He grinned at her and a tiny smile cracked her face. He recognized that grim, determined expression she wore. His troops got it just before they went into combat. They called it their game face. She definitely had hers on.

He clipped on his badge and headed into the room. He was surprised to see that Cody was asleep. “How are we doing?” he asked Cassidy.

“The other child’s gone.” Her voice cracked on the last word and he gave her a hard, fast hug, not of celebration, but of shared grief. She continued more steadily, “They’re prepping Cody and have started anesthesia. Because of how fragile his heart is, they have to sedate him slowly.”

“He’s a tough kid,” he murmured, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Have faith in him and his doctors, okay? They’re all fighters.” She leaned into him and he absorbed her worry as best he could.

She said quietly, “Things will start happening fast. The doctors went over the whole surgical procedure with me a few weeks ago. It’ll take hours once they get Cody into the operating room, though.”

The two of them stood there together, looking down at the precious little boy in silence. Cody looked like a dark-haired angel in his sleep.

A man in surgical scrubs, right down to cloth booties, stepped into the room. “It’s time.”

Cassidy leaned down to kiss her son’s forehead and whisper something to him. When she straightened, Mitch took a shaky breath.

The man smiled and said, “Cody and I will see you in recovery. This is going to take a while, so don’t watch the clock too much.”

The surgical team wheeled Cody out, and Mitch’s last glimpse was of Cody’s pinkie finger, curled in the white sheets as if to remind Mitch of his promise.

Cassidy broke down completely as soon as Cody was gone, sobbing inconsolably. He wasn’t ashamed to cry with her. It was the scariest thing he’d ever done, turning Cody over to a team of strangers like that. He guided Cassidy down the hall to a small, private waiting room and gathered her against his side. They clung to each other and cried together for a long time.

He fully understood her need to let go of her hard-won control. She’d been strong for so long. And now her long battle was over, one way or the other.

It was the most wrenching moment of Mitch’s life, and he suspected Cassidy would describe it the same way. All their defenses were down and nothing was left in either of them but raw emotion. He supposed it was entirely natural that they should share their grief like this and find solace in one another’s suffering.

Still, it was the most intimate and personal experience he’d ever shared with another human being. If he’d had any questions before about just how deep his feelings ran for Cassidy and Cody, they were pretty much answered. The two had found their way to the very bottom of his heart and lodged there.

Eventually Cassidy cried herself out. Mitch wiped her face gently with his handkerchief.

“You carry one of those?” she asked in surprise. “I thought men didn’t bother with hankies anymore.”

“They do when they know they’re going to be around an emotional woman.”

“I’m that, all right.”

He smiled gently at her. “You’re authorized in this situation.”

“Mitch, we need to talk.”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

“About that promise Cody extracted from you to look after me. It was sweet of you to make it to him, and goodness knows, he needed to calm down. But I won’t hold you to it.”

“But it was a solemn pinkie swear.”

“Seriously, Mitch—”

“Seriously. I meant every word of what I said to Cody. And what I said to you...after.”

She stared at him, looking completely flummoxed. “I don’t understand.”

“What part of ‘I’ll be there for you as long as you’ll have me’ don’t you understand?” he asked reasonably.

“Do you realize what you’re saying? What if I want you around for a really long time?”

Joy leaped in his chest. “That would be fine,” he answered much more calmly than he felt.

“But we’ve only known each other a few weeks. And I haven’t exactly been at my best around you.”

He shrugged. “I’ve been asking myself the very same thing about how this could have happened so fast. But the fact remains that I do care for you. You and Cody. Deeply. It’s as if I’ve been waiting for the two of you to come into my life forever. Now that you’re here, I’m not about to question the how or why of it.”

Her eyes shone with equal parts hope and fear, as if she was terrified to believe him.

He added, “Who knows? Maybe Cody’s right. Maybe Jimmy sent me to take care of you two. He was a pretty generous guy, and I know he loved you two with all his heart. He’d want you to be happy.”

Cassidy stared at Mitch, hope warring with caution in her chest.

“Happy?” she said. “I’d almost forgotten what that was like. And then you blew into our lives like a hurricane.” She fell silent until she realized Mitch was staring at her expectantly.

“And?” he asked cautiously.

She threw up her hands with a little laugh. “Has anybody ever told you that you’re impossible to resist? I suppose you always get your way, don’t you?”

He grinned. “Always.”

“What am I going to do with you?”

“Take me up on that long-term-offer thing.”

Her jaw sagged. “Are you...do you mean to say you’d consider...exactly wh-what are you saying?” she stammered.

He spoke slowly, as if he was thinking out loud. “‘Now or never’ seems to be the theme tonight. If you can risk everything to give your son a shot at life, then I suppose I can take a big risk, too.” He took a deep breath. “So here goes. Marry me, Cassidy. Give Cody a bunch of brothers and sisters, and let me make sure you never again forget what happiness is.”

“Marry—are you crazy? We’ve known each other a few weeks.”

“Tell me you don’t already know I’m the one Jimmy sent for you. Marry me.”

She stared at him in frustration. And hope. Was he right? She had to admit, the past few weeks had been full of angels. First the Patches of Light rescue—even if it had been engineered by Mitch and Rose—and then Mitch himself. And now a new heart for Cody. It was all pretty overwhelming.

“Can I wait to answer you until after Cody’s out of surgery?” she asked in a small voice.

“Of course. But understand that even if the worst should happen, my proposal stands.”

The terror she’d held at bay for the past few minutes crashed back in on her full force.

“Breathe, baby. Take it one minute at a time. One breath at a time if you need to.”

How was it he always knew exactly what she needed? Exactly what to say to her? Was he already so in tune with her? Maybe he really was an angel sent by heaven or Jimmy or both.

* * *

The long hours of Cody’s surgery crawled by at a maddeningly slow pace for Mitch. He went down to the gift shop and bought a scented candle. Back in the waiting room he lit it, and Cassidy smiled softly at him. She remembered her birthday candle and got his silent message.

Have hope.

About once an hour, a surgical nurse came out to report that everything was going well. But that was it. According to Cassidy, the crucial transfer of the new heart would happen late in the long procedure.

She stared unseeing at the television and paced by turns. At one point she paged through a magazine, which he smiled to see was upside down. About halfway through it, she grinned ruefully and turned it around.

He’d been in some difficult situations in his life. Had been outnumbered by enemy forces, waiting for an attack or ambush. But he’d never done anything half as hard as waiting out Cody’s heart transplant.

At some point a hospital volunteer brought them sandwiches. But neither he nor Cassidy choked down more than a few bites. And then it was back to waiting. It grew dark outside as the surgery stretched into the evening. Still the little candle burned, its bright light steady and unwavering. Despite the anesthesiologist’s admonition not to watch the clock, Mitch couldn’t help doing exactly that.

Six hours became seven. And seven became eight.

Cassidy began to panic. She wrung her hands until they were bright red, and she became more and more agitated. Finally he grabbed her hands to rescue them and pulled her into his arms. “It’s in God’s hands now, Cassidy,” he said gently.

She dissolved into quiet tears that brought him to the verge of tears, too.

“Hey,” he choked out. “Don’t forget Cody’s got his own personal angel. Jimmy’s looking out for him.”

“I’ve been telling myself that over and over.” She hiccuped. “But the surgery should be finished by now. They said it would take six to eight hours.”

“Well, we’re still in the eighth hour. Be strong, baby. Just a little while longer.” As much as he wanted to take this burden away from her, there was nothing he could do. He hated feeling helpless, and he could only imagine how much more helpless she felt.

They sat there in the waiting room holding each other, drawing strength from one another, which was ironic given that neither of them had any strength left to give themselves.

Then, at long last, the door behind Cassidy opened. Mitch looked up sharply. It wasn’t a nurse this time. It was a surgeon.

* * *

Cassidy jumped to her feet the moment Mitch stiffened against her. Panic slammed into her. This was it.

“Is he alive?” she cried, unable to contain herself. “Did he make it?”

“He came through surgery like a champ, Mrs. Frazier. Your son’s quite a little fighter.”

Her legs collapsed right then and there. Had it not been for Mitch catching her and scooping her up in his arms, she’d have fallen in a heap on the floor. If she thought she’d cried hard before, it was nothing in the face of her tears now. She sobbed against Mitch’s neck, racked by gratitude and relief.

The surgeon waited patiently. Finally, when she was able to look up at him again, he continued. “Cody is in recovery. He should regain consciousness very soon. We didn’t want to keep him under anesthesia any longer than necessary. It would be helpful if you’re there when he wakes up. Sometimes children can be disoriented and get upset coming out of anesthesia. If he sees a familiar face immediately upon waking, it will help keep him calm.”

“Of course,” she said.

Mitch helped her to her feet and kept a steadying arm around her, for which she was grateful, as they followed the surgeon from the room.

Her son was alive.

Cody would be all right.

Everything would be all right.

The knowledge of these things washed through her with the power of a religious revelation. Or maybe they actually were a religious revelation. Maybe God had, in fact, sent all these blessings to her. She offered up a heartfelt prayer of thanks as she and Mitch walked down the brightly lit hallway.

Thanks to the presurgery briefing, she was prepared for all the tubes and wires that were attached to her son. He looked tiny and pale and fragile buried under a heavy bandage that swathed his entire torso.

The surgeon explained to them that Cody would be allowed to regain consciousness and his neurological functions would be tested briefly. Then he would be sedated again and administered heavy painkillers for the next few days. Cracking open the chest to access the heart was intensely painful, he told them.

She nodded her understanding, grateful for Mitch’s warm body pressed against her side. With every beep of the heart monitor, every rise and fall of Cody’s little chest, she offered up another silent prayer of thanks.

And then the speed of the steady beeps increased slightly. It took a while, but eventually Cody’s eyelids fluttered. Mitch’s arm tightened around her shoulders. They waited several more agonizing minutes. Cody took a deep breath...and opened his eyes.

It was still him. Her son looked back at her with his usual wry humor and awareness beyond his young years. He closed his eyes again. In a few minutes, without opening his eyes, he mouthed a soundless hi around the respirator.

“Hi, sweetie,” she said softly. “How are you feeling? Tired?”

He nodded.

She smiled down at him. “Your new heart is doing great, and you’re doing even greater. You get to sleep for a while now. And when you wake up, your new heart will make you feel a ton better. Okay?”

He nodded again.

Mitch laid his hand lightly on Cody’s forehead. “We love you, buddy.”

Cody smiled faintly at Mitch’s touch, and her heart felt as if it doubled in size at the sight of that smile. That was when she knew she had her answer to Mitch’s proposal.

“Hey, Cody,” she said. “I have a question for you. How would you feel about Mitch and me getting married?”

Mitch’s gaze snapped to hers, questioning. Hopeful.

Cody’s eyes opened at that. Shifted back and forth between her and Mitch. Slowly, slowly his right fist rotated on top of the blanket. His little thumb stuck straight up in the air.

She looked over at Mitch. “Well, there you have it. I guess we accept your proposal.” Broad grins from the medical staff joined with Mitch’s.

Against all odds, Cody had a new heart, her own was healed and Mitch’s was filled. It was as if all three of them had been born again into new lives tonight. Into the darkness, a tiny flicker of hope had ignited and stubbornly refused to be extinguished. Like that silly candle on her birthday cupcake. Patches of light had broken through the blackness of her life, making way for a brilliantly bright new beginning that had to have come straight from heaven itself.

Mitch’s arm went around her shoulder and hers looped around his waist. They both reached down with their free hands to take one of Cody’s, forming a circle of love. Complete. Unbroken. A family.

* * * * *

Dear Reader,

I suppose every author who is invited to participate in Harlequin’s More Than Words program talks about how lucky they feel to get a chance to highlight one of the amazing women the program recognizes. They probably talk about what an honor it is; what a privilege; even what a joy it is. They would all be right.

As a writer, I hope my stories touch readers in a little way—maybe put a smile on your face, or provide a momentary escape from the real world. But Mindy Atwood and her charity, Patches of Light, touch lives in a powerful and meaningful way that is humbling to witness.

Learning about the work Mindy and her organization do is a reminder to all of us of what really matters in life. Family. Loved ones. Helping others. Laughter. Our kids. I can only hope that in small part I captured that spirit in this story, which I offer up as a tribute to the work of a truly remarkable lady. Mindy, this one’s for you.

All my best,

Cindy Dees

Two more FREE ebooks await!

In Good Neighbors, author Sheila Roberts honors the work of Sally Spencer and the not-for-profit organization Youth Assisting Youth in Toronto, Ontario.

And in Just Joe, author Carla Cassidy pays tribute to the work of Helen McGovern, executive director for the Emergency Food Network—the only non-profit that takes food straight from the land to the tables of those in need.

TO ACCESS YOUR FREE EBOOKS VISIT

www.HarlequinMoreThanWords.com

ISBN: 978-14592-4569-3

More Than Words

Copyright © 2013 by Harlequin Books S.A.

Cindy Dees is acknowledged as the author of Light This Candle.

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

www.Harlequin.com