The Marine's Secret Daughter Page 7

  Loon Lake was what Riley thought of as one of those quintessential New England towns photographed and featured on decorative calendars. The kind where businesses and homes huddled around a town green complete with a gazebo that doubled as a bandstand.

  A large white clapboard church with black shutters and a giant steeple anchored the green at one end. He pulled into the gravel lot next to the church. Even though the building dated back to the Revolutionary War, it appeared well-maintained. “Where do you want me to drop you off?”

  “You’re not coming in?” Her tone indicated surprise and maybe confusion.

  He slowed near the steps leading to the giant double doors. “I figured you wouldn’t want me there...gossip and all.”

  She shrugged. “You showing up here won’t increase or decrease the gossip. Besides, you can keep Ogle company.”

  “Ogle Whatley? The old guy who used to own the garage?” Regret knotted in his belly. Why had he cut himself off from all these wonderful people? His childhood memories weren’t all bad and yet he’d locked them away as if letting one out would mean the rest could come spilling out.

  “He still owns it. Runs it with his grandson.”

  He shook his head and grinned. “He must be a hundred by now.”

  “I’m sure he’d appreciate hearing that.” Meg laughed. “I swear he looks the same as he did when I was five, and I thought he was ancient then.”

  “Don’t tell me Ogle volunteers, too.”

  “Yeah, he likes to keep tabs on our vets. We have a few that come on a regular basis. Some from the Korean War are widowed and get lonesome or tired of their own cooking. The older guys also come to talk with the younger ones back from Afghanistan who might be having a tough time adjusting. Ogle is very good at getting them to talk.” Meg gave him an expectant glance. “So, you’ll come in?”

  “Not sure how much help I can be, but I’ll give it a shot.”

  “Great. They’ll be setting up in the basement, so pull around to the back.”

  “Basement?”

  She blew out a noisy breath. “Oh, for heaven’s sakes, I’m fine and there’s no mold in the church basement.”

  “Do you have your inhaler?” Riley asked as he pulled the truck around to the rear parking lot.

  “Yes, I do. Oh, look, there’s Ogle.”

  A rotund bald man was getting out of a restored bright red 1949 Mercury M47 pickup. Riley gave a low whistle. “That truck is a work of art.”

  “Yeah, he’s pretty proud of it.”

  “As he should be.” Riley parked next to the antique truck.

  Ogle sauntered over and gave Meg a hug when she got out of Riley’s truck.

  Riley came around and shook hands with the older man. “Sir.”

  “Riley Cooper, how be ya?” Ogle clapped him on the shoulder before releasing his hand. “Heard you was back.”

  “News travels fast around here.” Riley’s gaze shifted to Meg, but she was all smiles.

  “And the fact that Jan the nurse from the ER is his daughter-in-law doesn’t hurt.” Meg punched Ogle on the arm.

  “Bah, Meggie,” Ogle scolded. “I didn’t hear it from Jan. Folks down at the Pic-N-Save was jawing about some new guy in town and Tavie got wind of it. That old woman wouldn’t rest till she got to the bottom of it.”

  Riley tucked his sunglasses around the neck of his T-shirt and frowned. Why did he think he could slip into town unnoticed for thirty days? He should’ve realized his return would stir up interest, but then he’d planned on sitting alone in his cottage. “I’m just here for some R&R before getting back to my men.”

  Ogle shifted the toothpick in his mouth to the other side and glanced at Meg before turning his attention back to Riley. “Sorry you ain’t sticking around. Hear you’ve been doing a lot to help Meg here.”

  Meg cleared her throat. “I’d better get inside. They’ll be wondering where I am.”

  Ogle hooked his thumbs in the suspenders of his overalls and laughed. “You’ll have to do double duty today without Miss Fiona.”

  Meg shook her head but smiled good-naturedly. “I have a feeling things will get done a bit quicker today.”

  “But everyone will be missin’ that little ray of sunshine,” Ogle said as Riley fell into step beside him to follow Meg into the church.

  And just like that, Riley felt like an outsider in Meg’s life. It saddened him to think about her having a daughter, a vital part of her that he’d never even met. As he helped Ogle set up folding tables in the large, open basement of the church, he watched Meg working and chatting with the other women. A woman asked Meg a question and Meg looked as though she was giving her instructions. Meg had carved out a whole life for herself and, as before, he was on the outside looking in. Despite all the time spent with the McBrides, he’d never been one of them. But that was on him because they’d welcomed him.

  “Sergeant Cooper?”

  After pushing a metal folding chair into place at a rectangular table, Riley turned in the direction of the unfamiliar voice. “Yes?”

  “You helping us out today?” A kid not much older than Kevin, his hands jammed into the pockets of raggedy jeans, his shoulders slouched, was intently watching him.

  “Yeah, I thought I’d hang around and help out.” Why wasn’t the kid in school? “Have we met?”

  “Nah, but I’m a friend of Kevin’s and he told me about how you let him help out.”

  Ogle sauntered up and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Danny, son, you should introduce yourself. Sergeant Cooper doesn’t know you.”

  “Oh, uh, you’re right, Mr. Ogle.” The kid blushed and ducked his head but held out a hand. “Danny Simmons. Nice to meet you, Sergeant Cooper.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Danny.” Riley shook his hand and glanced across the basement to Meg working and chatting with the other women in the kitchen. He admired the woman she’d become.

  “Danny, son, why don’t you get some more chairs from the closet?” Ogle said.

  Once the teen was out of earshot, Ogle leaned over to Riley. “We’ve been trying to get him back in school but...”

  Riley recalled when, during one of the more stressful times between his parents, he’d thought about quitting school, if just to get their attention. Thankfully, Mac McBride had talked some sense into him.

  Ogle watched Danny trot off to fetch more chairs. “He’s good friends with Kevin and we hoped Kevin getting his life back on track would help, but so far, nada. Not for lack of trying on our Meggie’s part.”

  “Oh?”

  “Our Meggie has a tender heart. Hate to see her get it broken,” Ogle remarked and stuck a toothpick in his mouth.

  Riley nodded. Yep, Ogle’s message came through loud and clear.

  Danny came back pushing a hand truck loaded with more folding chairs.

  Ogle had wandered off and Riley was alone with the kid.

  Danny set up a chair. “So, you’re like a marine.”

  “That’s right.”

  “You must be the one Ms. McBride talked about.”

  Riley pulled another chair off the stack. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. She’s always telling me stuff.” Danny leaned against the chair he’d just unfolded. “When I told her I was thinking of joining up, she said she knew a marine...and sounded like...all proud and stuff. Must be nice to have someone be proud of you, ya know?”

  Meg had used him as an example? Riley glanced across the room to the kitchen, searching for her. She looked up from what she’d been doing and their gazes met. Although her brows drew together in a puzzled frown, she smiled and he returned it. Someone spoke to her and she turned to them, but not before giving one last little smile just for him.

  Riley turned his attention back to Danny. “You’d have to finish high school or at least get your GED.”

 
“That’s what she said.” The kid cleared his throat. “You get lots of respect for being a marine, yeah?”

  “It’s not the uniform, Danny, but the man wearing it.”

  The church basement began to fill up with people, chatting and laughing. Riley was going to wait until the others had been served to be sure there was enough, but noticed Danny following his example. The kid looked like he could use a decent meal so Riley suggested they get in line. When Meg saw him with Danny, she gave him a special smile along with lunch.

  After lunch, Ogle crossed the room to talk with a man clutching a desert camo boonie hat between his hands. He looked to be about Riley’s age. Was that one of the Afghanistan vets Meg had mentioned? Riley recognized that self-contained pose. As though if he allowed himself to relax he might fly apart.

  Riley turned to Danny. “Who is that with Ogle?”

  “That’s Travis. He’s ex-army.”

  Riley wandered over and listened as Ogle spoke about some of his experiences in Vietnam.

  “Haunts me to this day... Khe Sanh...twenty-fifth of February, nineteen sixty-eight.” Ogle hooked his thumbs under the bib of his overalls and squeezed as if needing to hang on to something. “My squad was one of two wiped out... Only survived because while them NVA were executing wounded, I...”

  Three school-age children clattered down the steps of the church basement. Without warning, Riley was back in a dusty school building in Kandahar, cradling his M4 and sweating under his IMT Vest—

  “Riley?” Meg’s voice snapped him back to the present and he blinked several times.

  Ogle stared at him with a sympathetic been there, done that expression, but Meggie’s face... Oh, God, the color had leached from her face. Fear. He could smell it. No, wait, that was him...he was soaked in sweat.

  Riley lifted his arm and swiped his shirtsleeve across his forehead.

  “You okay?” Meg peered at him, her face etched in concern.

  “Fine...just felt a bit warm.” He wasn’t about to go into details and scare her even more.

  She shifted, looking uncertain. “If...if you’d rather leave now, I can catch a ride.”

  Great. Had he scared her that much? “I brought you. I’ll take you home. I’m going to talk to Travis for a bit, so take your time.”

  “Oh...okay.” She touched his arm. “I’m almost done.”

  Ogle had been silent during the short exchange with Meg, but he cleared his throat and patted Riley’s shoulder. “Son, if you ever need someone to, uh, you know, uh, make sense of some of this...”

  Riley nodded, but he was alive and so many of his fellow marines were dead. Where was the sense in that? None. But he had to at least try.

  He stuck his hand out to Travis. “Got a sec?”

  * * *

  Meg walked toward Riley’s truck, her mind spinning, her stomach churning. She’d loved Riley since realizing there was more to boys than cooties; she’d succeeded in seducing him at nineteen and had a child with him. Acid burned her stomach to realize she didn’t know this Riley. She’d known the boy who’d helped her catch frogs, the teenager who’d awkwardly held her when her dad wouldn’t let her get a dog because of her asthma and the young man who’d made love to her that night, the night they’d made a baby. But this Riley was—

  “Meg? You getting in or what?” Riley stood beside the open passenger door, hands out, palms up, sunglasses firmly in place.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled and scrambled into the seat.

  He slammed the door and marched around the hood, his face grim. She wanted to ask him about what had happened back there, but the shuttered look on his face told her he wasn’t in a mood to share. How could she just let it drop? His breathing had grown heavy; he’d been sweating and rubbing his chest.

  Without a word, he started the engine and pulled out of the gravel parking lot, the back tires kicking up stones as he pulled onto the main road.

  Obviously, something bad had happened to him in Afghanistan, something to cause nightmares, something to cause his little episode at the church. Finding out what was wrong wasn’t a matter of satisfying curiosity; she needed to think of Fiona. When Riley had left, they’d both still been so young, having an adult conversation or two now seemed reasonable.

  She wished Riley would confide in her about his experiences in Afghanistan, so she could get to know and understand the man he was now.

  He might get angry with her, but she had to try. “I know you don’t want to talk, but I would like to understand what you’re going through. You’ve gotten upset with me each time I’ve told people we were just neighbors or that you were a friend of Liam’s, but how can I call you something more if you refuse to talk to me?”

  He didn’t say anything so she must’ve angered him. She twisted her hands together. Better to find out now that he didn’t trust or care enough to—

  Jerking the wheel sharply, he pulled into a parking spot in front of the hardware store. Heaving a deep sigh, he said, “It’s not easy to talk about. I know I scared you with...with what happened today and that’s the last thing I want to do. I thought talking with Travis before leaving would help and it did but not enough.”

  She reached across the middle console and touched his arm. He covered her hand with his.

  “Some of the stuff I saw...over there...it changed me.” He cleared his throat. “I think I have a handle on it, think I’m coping, and then something like today happens and I realize I’m Wile E. Coyote scrambling to gain traction in nothing but thin air.”

  She despised feeling so helpless, but anything she said would sound like meaningless platitudes. Maybe there was something she could do... It wasn’t much but it was better than inaction. “Will you come for supper tonight?”

  “What?”

  She gave him an apologetic smile, understanding his surprise. “I’m inviting you to supper.”

  His gaze searched her face. “Supper?”

  “Yes.” Great, he thought she was making light of or ignoring what had happened. She needed to make him understand. “I’ve never been to war and I’m not a therapist but I can cook. I can feed you. When you offered me a glass of water during my asthma attack, you said it was because you had to do something.” She sighed. “Well, that’s how I feel.”

  His fingers tightened over hers. “Thanks. I’d love to come for supper.”

  * * *

  Meg spent the afternoon catching up on laundry and checking on job openings in case the Loon Lake position didn’t work out.

  She squatted for a last minute check of her appearance in the stainless steel toaster on the counter before she answered the light knock at her door. As she hurried to let Riley in, she removed the hair tie and finger-combed her hair.

  “Hey.” Riley hovered in the doorway, his hair damp from the shower and his T-shirt stretched over his shoulders and biceps.

  “Hey,” she managed to reply, even though her saliva had dried up the minute she saw him. She rubbed her sweaty palms down the front of her pants. Great. Dry mouth and wet hands—such a sexy combi—Stop right there. This is about offering friendship, nothing more.

  “I’m not too early, am I?” He shifted from one foot to the other.

  “Oh, no, sorry. C’mon in.” She stepped aside and led him into the kitchen.

  His presence shrank the room, and as many times as he’d been in the cottage in the past, she shouldn’t have been feeling awkward or shy, and yet she was.

  She needed a distraction, so she grabbed the oven mitts off the counter and pulled the garlic bread from the oven, setting the aromatic slices on a plate.

  He looked over her shoulder, inhaling deeply. “Mmm...can I help with anything?”

  “No. It’s...it’s ready. Sit down while I dish it out.” She fought the overwhelming urge to lean into him.

  * * *

  Riley pulled
out a chair and sat at Meg’s table, his gaze roaming around the cheerful kitchen. From the looks of it, Meg had spent considerable time and energy improving this room. The walls and old cabinets had a fresh coat of paint; the old porcelain sink gleamed under the rays of the sun shining through the window above it. He knew Meg’s kitchen and the meal would be a memory he’d take back to Afghanistan. This sunny kitchen sure beat sitting in the dirt, his back resting against his full combat load and eating an MRE with a plastic spoon. Christ, what the hell was he thinking? His duty to his men should be his priority. It was his priority.

  During supper they managed to keep the conversation going. He was mopping up the sauce from the chicken cacciatore on his plate with his garlic bread when Meg’s cell phone chimed. She grabbed the phone from its charger on the counter.

  After checking the screen, she said, “Sorry. I’m going to take this in the other room. I’ll get some coffee to go with dessert in a minute.”

  She hadn’t even looked up from her phone or waited for an answer before she left the room. He remembered a time when those green eyes had looked at him as if he were the most important person in her world.

  His gut churned with the knowledge that he no longer had a place in her life. Supper had been what she said: the sharing of a meal. But that was the way it should be because he was going back to his men, his life, to the marines where he belonged. He didn’t belong in Meg’s kitchen eating home-cooked meals.

  So why does it hurt to be excluded?

  Riley jumped up and found dish liquid soap in the cabinet under the sink. Maybe washing the dishes would distract him from Meg’s occasional laughter coming from the other room. He filled the sink and when the suds climbed halfway up the sides, he shut off the tap and plunged in.

  “What’re you doing?” Meg said as she came into the kitchen.

  He half turned toward her. “Making myself useful.”

  “Washing dishes?”

  “Why not?” He made a show of looking around. “Did I miss a dishwasher here somewhere?”