his dreams had been torn away from him. He’d been ashamed of his life, but Anna Bennett had given him pride. Clean, patched clothes and a full stomach had done wonders for his self-esteem.
“Life is made of dreams, Michael. Everyone dreams. It’s a part of life. Without dreams, nothing could happen—would happen.” Kylie’s eyes searched his face, reminding him of Anna’s.
With Anna’s help, he’d found a measure of peace in Freedom Valley. As the town’s bad boy who could potentially infect other righteous men, he’d been labeled a “Cull” by the Women’s Council. He wasn’t expected to follow the traditions of the Founding Mothers, the women who had begun the traditions of men courting women. Kylie should have those traditions.
“I never married,” he replied, skirting the issue at hand. He’d determined long ago never to marry, never to love, because love of any kind brought heartache. Yet he had to know about Kylie. “Did you love him?”
“Leon? I knew it wasn’t exactly a steaming love-match. He has a great family, and I thought he’d have the same values as I. It’s been months since the massage table discovery and my hurried divorce. I’m past the hurt stage, now I’m just mad at myself for wasting my life. Nine years…zip…gone, trashed. I was a virgin on my wedding night—I’m that old-fashioned.” Kylie turned back to the dark lake and her fist pushed back at him. “Help me.”
Virgin. Michael closed his eyes and tried not to think of Kylie’s small soft body, another man loving her. He regretted drawing his hand from the confinement of his jeans pocket; he regretted the need to hold her tight and safe. “Are you ready? Maybe you’d better think about it.”
“No. I want to do this now and get it over. Thinking won’t change anything. I’ve got to get on with my life.”
Michael breathed unsteadily and enfolded Kylie’s small hand in his. “At the count of three, right?”
The gold circle spun an arc into the moonlight and then slid silently into Valentina Lake. Kylie was silent for a long time, and Michael prayed she wouldn’t cry. Even as a child, when Kylie cried, a part of him went all weak and soft. “You’ll be okay,” he murmured finally, nettled that she was spending so much time grieving over a man who didn’t deserve her.
He stepped back, determined not to hold her. He couldn’t allow her softness to blur the truth of what he was, and he’d keep his distance.
Michael looked out to the whitecaps of the dark lake. It was rumored that a woman’s soul walked the lake, restless to be reunited with her lover. He traced the waves and by habit, briskly pushed away romantic notions and the haunting legend. Kylie was right; he gave little of himself to others. But he knew how to protect women when the law was inadequate. The women he and Rosa Demitri rescued didn’t deserve to be abused. They’d had their dreams torn apart by rough hands. Rosa had been his first rescue, and working with her ever since, he’d managed to change a few women’s lives. He liked the feeling that he was passing on Anna’s work, tending others. He brought the women and their children here to Freedom Valley where they could see how women should be respected and loved.
“‘I’ll be okay,’ you say. What would you know about it? Besides the gossip says you’ve got a regular flow of women at your house and that you sport them all over town, never leaving them alone for a minute. It seems you’ve been the sperm donor for quite a few children. Boy, you must really have stamina.”
“I like women,” Michael returned slowly, amused at Kylie’s nettled tone. He loved holding the babies he’d delivered with Anna. Their mothers had needed Anna’s healing hands and gentle midwifing. He loved holding the children close and snug against him, knowing that their new lives would be better.
“How did you get that scar?” Kylie asked, touching the zagged white line on his jaw. Michael jerked his head away, fearing he would lean into her soft warm touch.
“Knife. Working as a bouncer in a bar has disadvantages… Did you have men customers? I mean, did you massage them?” He didn’t want to think about Kylie’s hands on other men, and that he should be affected by the thought rankled.
“Sure. For relaxation and sports injuries. I did lots of men… Mom said you went on to do high-priced security work.”
“It paid the bills.” His silent partnership in Newton Security Inc. still paid the bills for the women he sheltered. His needs were simple, but the regular dividends paid for new clothes. It also provided education so they could provide for themselves and a start in a new life. One of their early cases, Maureen Sanders, had sorted out her life and gone in for computer training, and she had recently sent Rosa a small “payback” check. Rosa’s position as a substitute nurse for a national firm gave her insights into the case studies of abused women—information that she evaluated and forwarded to Michael. Not all women were candidates for rescue, but when protection and muscle was needed, Michael filled the job. He liked giving them a home in which to heal and not be afraid.
“How did you get from security work to electrical work?”
Michael skipped the electronics he’d set up for protecting clients—the alarms, sensors, cameras and listening devices. “Just fell into it. Anna was my first. I rewired her house. Your dad did a good job, but some old wiring and the fuse box needed replacing. It took three weeks, and I enjoyed being with her.”
“Mom and Dad loved each other desperately. Her eyes lit up when she talked about him,” Kylie murmured.
“She had soft, blue eyes like yours. Clear as the Montana sky, as if she knew the truth of life, free from shadows.” Michael remembered Anna’s love of her husband. Kylie deserved a man like that, solid, tender, loving. A man who could give her the traditions of Freedom Valley, and who would make a good father to the children she should have.
Michael didn’t intend to have children—he could have inherited his father’s dark side. His instincts told him to stay away from Kylie and settle for what he’d rediscovered in Freedom Valley. He’d watch another man hold her in his arms at the traditional Sweetheart Dance. He’d watch another court her and he’d be glad for her happiness, as Anna Bennett’s daughter deserved. Michael inhaled the night air and Kylie’s disturbing scent. Uncomfortable with his prowling, undefinable emotions, he said, “I’m hungry. I’ll cook.”
“Jerk. I’m dealing with a broken heart here and you’re thinking of food.”
“Let it go, Kylie. Move on.” Michael’s uncustomary impatience startled him. He didn’t want to think of Kylie’s love of life imprisoned by the past—too many women hadn’t been able to move on, even with his and Rosa’s help. Those women had eventually gone back to the men who had abused them.
“You think this is easy? Why are you here? Don’t you have some woman’s bed to warm?” Kylie asked, turning her frustration on him.
He studied her flashing eyes, now the color of moonlit steel and admired the sight. Kylie was a fighter and she’d struggle back to what she wanted, to the future she should have.
“I’ve done my share. I’m here because Anna was special. So are you.” He would rather have that than her tears, mourning a man who had hurt her. Michael eased a wind-tossed ringlet away from her face, his thumb caressing the fine warm skin of her cheek. It had been five years since he’d last had a woman, and he had the unshakable feeling that last time he’d been doing the mechanics. That hard cold stark realization was enough to make him recheck his life and his values. He’d been shocked to discover that he’d become old-fashioned and that lovemaking
