great deal of courage to pull up stakes after your husband’s death. To move across the country and start a new life.”
Kristina’s shoulders slumped. “We needed a new place to begin again. Without reminders of everything we’d lost. Without seeing Pax at every turn.”
Her hand groped for the chain hanging underneath her blouse. An unconscious gesture. Was her husband’s wedding ring on the end of the chain?
A habitual gesture, he suspected, for a woman who’d been unable to move beyond her grief.
Canyon’s heart felt heavy in his chest. “The airfield spoiled that for you. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. Tendrils of silky blond hair framed her face. “It’s my issue, not yours. I’m learning to live with it.” Her hand clenched around the hidden chain.
Perhaps she’d moved on physically. But emotionally? He knew better than most that you couldn’t run far enough to outdistance your problems. Though he’d certainly tried when he joined the Coast Guard.
“You’ve helped me so much already, jumping in to cover my failures with Jade.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m beginning to realize I have you and your airfield to thank for making this transition easier on my son.”
“Gray’s a special kid. He has a real gift for mechanical devices.”
“Like father, like son.” Her chin quivered. “Which is exactly what I’m most afraid of.”
As for Canyon’s greatest fear? Getting too close and getting hurt. Again.
He’d not seen this coming when he spotted the moving truck a month ago on one of his aerial forays.
The next day, the gangly boy had appeared. Always on the edge of the forest, watching him take off in the early morning. Returning when Canyon landed the plane again.
One day the boy ventured closer to the hangar. He’d offered to help Canyon secure the plane and stow his gear.
He’d thanked Gray but refused his offer. Disappointment etched itself across the boy’s features. Flushing, his eyes had dropped to his shoes.
Belatedly, Canyon remembered his own awkward phase. But Gray returned the next day and the next.
The shy, soft-spoken offer to help made each time. Hope springing eternal in his dark eyes. Until at last, after Gray waged a gentle war of attrition, Canyon surrendered to the inevitable and let the boy help out around the place.
“I appreciate your willingness to spend time with my son.” Kristina’s wistful voice drew Canyon into the present. “He’s missed that since his father’s death.”
Canyon’s eyes flicked toward her hand, pressed against her blouse. Her fingers massaged the chain at her throat. Something stirred inside him. To be loved like that...
He’d never been loved like that. But then, he’d never opened himself to be loved like that. To be loved required love in return. And despite the inherent risk in his line of work, love was the ultimate risk he wasn’t willing to take.
“Your husband sounds like he was a great guy.” He hunched his shoulders. “A great dad and husband.”
Something he’d never aspired to be. Someone he wasn’t capable of becoming. Not for the first time, the Collier family mantle hung heavy.
At the clink of dishes, she turned toward the sounds of running water in the kitchen. “Pax was wonderful.” Her face fell. “But he had a love affair with flying machines. A love that eventually took his life two years ago.”
Canyon straightened. “The air disaster in Thailand?”
“No.” Her mouth thinned. “Afghanistan.”
His lips parted. “I didn’t realize...your husband was military?”
She nodded.
An image emerged in his mind, based on other airmen he’d known. Solid guys. Intelligent. Gutsy. The kind who chose to put themselves in harm’s way when bullets were flying. Heroes.
His admiration for the dead man rose. As did his admiration for Kristina. “You’re a military widow.”
Military wives didn’t get the appreciation they deserved for their behind-the-scenes service to their country.
Her eyes clouded. “Our numbers are growing due to recent global conflicts. It’s a club no one wants to join.”
She leaned over to straighten the already tidy coffee table. As much as anything, maybe to give her hands something to do.
His heart lurched. “You were the one left to pick up the pieces. To somehow put your family together again without your husband.”
Kristina’s mouth trembled. “Sometimes in dealing with Gray I think it would’ve been better if I’d been the one to die.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Paxton was so strong. So confident.” She sank into an armchair.
He eased onto the sofa. “I don’t believe it would’ve been better for you to die. Gray wouldn’t think so, either. He’s just in a difficult phase right now. I’ve been there.”
She shook herself. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. We’re practically strangers.”
Canyon longed to touch her hand, to reassure her. But he was afraid. Of himself and the way Kristina Montgomery made him feel. “Your son’s trying to move beyond childhood—who he’s been—toward who he wants to become.”
She ran her thumb over the small exposed portion of the chain. “Aren’t we all?”
“True enough. But I also think you don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re stronger than you realize.”
Her eyes lifted to meet his. “You’re incredibly easy to talk to, Canyon.”
Canyon’s eyebrow arched. “Nobody’s ever said that to me before.”
She raised her chin. “Maybe what I’ve needed is an objective ear.”
He scrubbed his hand over his mouth. Objective? His objectivity when it came to Kristina and her son was decreasing by the moment. Scaring him, like he’d gone into a free fall and lost control of the aircraft.
“Maybe Gray and I are both on the threshold of becoming who we want to be. Who we were always meant to be.” She tensed. “If only I could get beyond the fear.”
“I know a surefire way to jump-start the process.” He rubbed his suddenly perspiring hands across the thighs of his jeans. “Are you ready to get a tiny glimpse of your husband’s world?”
She laid her palms flat on the armrest of the chair and studied him. “Your world, too.”
“Gives me a new perspective every time. Monday morning after the kids go to school, how about you take that trip with me into the sky?”
Her
