The Bodyguard and Ms. Jones (20 page)

BOOK: The Bodyguard and Ms. Jones
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Mrs. Stewart came by and began singing camp songs.

“Something tells me this isn't how the marines do it,” Cindy said, leaning close to Mike. He was helping a girl fit a marshmallow over the end of a green stick. When the sticky treat caught fire, he blew it out and gently directed her to hold it over some smoldering coals.

“We didn't roast a lot of marshmallows,” he admitted, leaning back against the log. “But we did sit around fires at night.”

“Telling lies about women?”

“Mostly.”

It was nearly dark, but she saw the flash of white teeth as he smiled. “What were your lies?”

“That I knew any woman. I was very skinny when I was eighteen.”

She almost mentioned the fact that he'd definitely filled out some since then, but managed to hold back the words. Mike had enough trouble with women falling all over him without her starting to do it, too.

When all the girls had their fill of dessert, he roasted a couple of marshmallows for her. The off-key singing continued. Songs about stars and animals and old folk tunes. The children laughed when they didn't know the words, or made up new ones. Cindy liked the closeness of the moment, and the feel of Mike next to her. When he put his arm around her, she leaned against his shoulder.

“I like Pam,” he said.

Cindy glanced through the smoldering fire and saw Pam and Steve sitting across from them. They were feeding each other marshmallows and smiling in that special way lovers do.

“Why?” she asked.

“She barely noticed I was alive.”

Cindy laughed. “You're right. She wasn't the least bit impressed by you.” Her laughter faded as she studied the couple. “They're so happy together. I envy them. They have everything I always wanted.”

“I'm tired, Mommy,” Allison said and crawled into her lap. The child shifted so she was half on Mike, as well, then rested her head on his chest.

Mike touched her daughter's hair. “You have what they want,” he said quietly.

He was right, Cindy thought. Life wasn't fair. But sometimes, like now, it was very close to perfect.

* * *

“Cindy, wake up.”

Someone was shaking her arm. She pulled the sleeping bag up over her head. “Go away.”

“I'm going to stay right here until you wake up.”

That voice. She recognized it. What was Mike doing in her bedroom? What was she doing sleeping on the ground?

“Oh, we're camping,” she muttered and raised her head. “What do you want?” She squinted. “It's still dark. Go away. Do you know how many times I had to take little girls to the bathroom last night? Fifty-seven. Or was it twenty? I can't remember. I just know I barely got any sleep.”

“You have to get up.”

She pushed the hair from her eyes. “You're disgusting,” she said, glaring at his smiling face. “No one should look that good in the morning. I feel as puffy and attractive as a blowfish. Go away.”

Mike glanced over his shoulder, then reached into her sleeping bag and grabbed her arms. Before she could protest, he pulled her out and set her on the covers. “You've got three minutes to get dressed, Cindy. If you're not ready, you're coming with us the way you are.”

“Who is us and where are we going?”

“It's a surprise.”

“I hate surprises,” she muttered, but he was already gone.

At that moment, she happened to glance down at herself. She bit back a moan. She'd known the girls would come to her to escort them to the rest rooms in the night so she'd gone to bed wearing shorts under her nightshirt. However, in her fitful sleep, it had twisted off one shoulder, exposing plenty of flesh. Mike hadn't even noticed. So much for dazzling the man with her feminine charms. She probably looked so old and haggard, he couldn't register anything else.

She drew the tent flaps together and quickly put on a bra and shirt. After spraying again with bug repellent, she slipped on socks and shoes, grabbed a flashlight, then made a mad dash for the rest room. A quick combing restored her hair to almost normal. She splashed water on her face and brushed her teeth. She was back at her tent in less than five minutes.

The western horizon was still dark, but dawn was breaking to the east. Mike was waiting for her with Allison and two of the little girl's friends.

“Where are we going?” Cindy asked again.

Mike put a finger to his lips and started walking away from the camp.

Cindy and the girls followed silently. After about fifteen minutes, they came to a clearing. A small house belonging to the park ranger stood at one end. There was a fenced garden and green grass. Mike paused by the edge of the lawn.

As if their presence had triggered a prearranged signal, a doe and two fawns stepped out of the bushes. The girls gasped.

The creatures moved with long-legged grace. Their smooth coats were almost gray in the predawn light. The back door of the house opened and the park ranger put out a large dish of food.

“They're beautiful,” Allison breathed. Her friends agreed.

The silence stretched on as the animals ate. The babies finished first, then began a game of tag in the clearing. They chased each other, jumping playfully over imaginary barriers.

The girls stared raptly. Cindy felt her throat tighten with emotion as Allison shyly took hold of Mike's hand. He squeezed her fingers and smiled down at her. Allison smiled back.

Cindy knew her daughter would remember this moment forever. She would share it with her children, telling them about the first time she'd watched fawns frolic in the early morning.

Cindy knew she would remember this moment, too. It marked the exact second her daughter fell in love with Mike. Allison had handed over her heart with a child's trust that the affection would be returned. Cindy wondered if her own heart was far behind.

Mike glanced at her. “What do you think?” he asked softly.

“They're wonderful,” she said, motioning to the fawns. The mother had finished eating but seemed content to let her children play.

Mike knelt in the damp grass and pointed out the different markings on the fawns. The girls listened intently. Again she marveled at how much better Mike was with the children than Nelson had ever been. Maybe some fathers were born, not made. She wondered what Mike would be like with his own children.

The thought was as tempting as chocolate to someone on a diet. She didn't want to dwell on it, but once it was in her mind, she couldn't get rid of it.

She reminded herself that men like Mike didn't stay. But that didn't erase her desire to see him holding a baby of his own. Her baby.

* * *

“When you have enough beads to fit around your wrist, add a couple extra so the bracelet will dangle,” Cindy said. “We don't want it so tight, it cuts off your circulation.”

Several of the girls looked up at her and giggled. Mike smiled as he patrolled the tables, making sure everyone concentrated on her craft. “Stay two arm's-lengths apart,” he cautioned, trying to avoid the inevitable stabbing with the dull needles used to string the beads.

“Bet they didn't do much of this in the marines,” Cindy whispered as he circled behind her.

“You're right.” He gave her short ponytail a playful tug, then returned his attention to the girls.

Most of the fathers were over with the knot-tying group. He was willing to admit it was more macho to tie knots than make bead bracelets, but he wasn't on the trip to affirm his masculinity. He was here to be with Allison and this was the craft she'd chosen.

“My cord's got a kink in it,” one of the little girls wailed.

Mike was instantly at her side. He slipped off a couple of beads, smoothed the cord until it was straight, then handed it to the now-smiling child. “Better than new,” he said.

Pam walked over to him and placed her hands on her hips. “You're very good at this. Cindy has been telling us you don't have kids, but I'm starting to wonder.”

“I've spent the summer practicing,” he said. “Allison and her brother live right next door.”

“You've learned well.” Pam glanced from him to Cindy. “Maybe you should think of having a few of your own.”

“No way.” He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I move around a lot.”

Her smile faded and her green eyes darkened with sadness. “It's a waste, if you ask me.”

Before they could continue the conversation, Pam stepped away to help another child. Mike watched her go. As he'd told Cindy, he liked Pam; she didn't treat him any differently than she treated any of the other men. She knew he was a single guy, a bodyguard, and she couldn't care less. It was refreshing. Cindy had teased him about being disappointed not to add one more member to his fan club, but in truth he was relieved. There was only one woman he wanted fawning on him and that was Cindy.

His gaze drifted over to his next-door neighbor and ersatz girlfriend. Cindy was bending over the table helping one of the girls. Her shorts pulled tight around her rear and he wished he were standing behind her so he could admire the view.

Down, boy, he told himself silently. This wasn't the time or the place. Although she was awfully tempting with her sunburned nose and no makeup. She wasn't the glamorous type he usually dated. She was genuine and caring. She didn't play games and when she gave her heart, it was forever. He wished he were a different kind of man. Someone who would be able to give her what she needed and deserved.

Cindy finished with the girl and strolled over to him. “How's it going? You want to make some jewelry for Grace?”

“I think she'll be buying all she needs in Hong Kong.”

“But a necklace or bracelet from you would be very special.”

He made a fist and pretended to clip her jaw. He brushed against her soft skin. Longing swept through him. “You think you're very funny.”

“I don't just think it, I know it for a fact.” She smiled, then pointed at Pam. “I saw you two talking.”

“I'm still surprised that she and Steve come on these trips, and they don't have any kids of their own.”

“Some people believe in giving something back.”

Interesting concept, he thought. What did he ever give back?

Before he could answer that question, a messenger van pulled up to the edge of camp. A young man stepped out. “I'm looking for Steve and Pam East,” he said loudly.

Pam heard him. She turned and paled. Mike understood her concern. The envelope in the messenger's hand looked ominous.

“I wonder what's wrong,” Cindy said. Most of the girls stopped what they were doing and watched.

Steve raced over to his wife and put his arm around her. Together they approached the messenger. The man handed them the envelope. The normally noisy camp grew silent; even the insects seemed to have stopped buzzing. Cindy clutched Mike's arm.

“I hope nobody died,” she whispered.

Steve and Pam read the message. Pam threw herself into her husband's arms and started to cry. Cindy jogged toward her. Mike followed. Then he realized the couple wasn't sad. They were laughing. Steve swung his wife around.

Pam glanced up at Cindy. “We're going to have a baby. A birth mother has chosen us. We met with her last week, and we almost decided not to come on the campout so we could wait by the phone for her answer, but she was taking her school exams and said she wouldn't decide until Monday. I guess she changed her mind.” She smiled through her tears. “Next to falling in love with Steve, this is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me.”

Cindy hugged her friend. The other women in the camp approached and embraced as the men shook hands.

“We're going to have to leave right away,” Pam said, wiping her face. “The baby is due in less than two weeks. There are a million things to prepare. A baby.”

Her happiness was so bright it nearly blinded him. As she moved toward her tent to collect her belongings, she paused in front of Mike.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” she asked.

He didn't have an answer so he hugged her.

“I'm so happy,” she said. Steve came over and the two men shook hands.

Mike watched as everyone helped them pack. In less than fifteen minutes, the couple was heading back to Houston. He stood on the edge of the crowd, strangely detached from their joy. He was happy Pam and Steve were finally going to have their child, but he didn't understand why they'd wanted one so much in the first place. At times, he didn't feel completely human. It was as if some of his emotions had atrophied from disuse.

Cindy picked up Allison and held her close. Mother and daughter clung to each other, their love visible to him. The pain in his chest told him that his heart was working. He still felt the pain of being on the outside, looking in.

* * *

“I want to call Daddy and tell him I had a good time,” Allison said as Cindy pulled into the driveway. The girl had unfastened her seat belt and had the side door open before Cindy had set the parking brake.

“He might not be home,” Cindy called after her. “And you can't get inside until I unlock the door.”

Allison danced impatiently. Cindy rolled her eyes at Mike. “I think her first campout was a success.”

“Seems that way.”

Cindy wondered what was bothering him. He'd been quiet for a couple of days now. The nearest she could pinpoint it, he'd started acting withdrawn right after Pam and Steve had left. She wasn't sure why that would have upset him.

She heard a call from across the greenbelt. Jonathan burst out of his friend's house and ran toward home.

“You guys are finally back,” he yelled.

Cindy gave her keys to an impatient Allison, then turned to greet her son. He hugged her tight then frowned. “Next time, I want to go camping with you guys. You had all the fun, and I was just stuck here with nothing to do.”

“Interesting. I could have sworn Brett's mother said you guys were going to Astro World, to the movies and ice skating. Didn't you do any of that?”

BOOK: The Bodyguard and Ms. Jones
10.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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