“Order up!” Mrs. Kinsley yelled through the window from the kitchen.
Cara Jo handed her two plates of biscuits and gravy. “Sadly, it’ll be here before you know it. Take these to table nine, while I see if I can help Mrs. Kinsley catch up.”
PJ threw herself into taking orders and delivering food, busing tables in between. The hectic pace kept her too busy for her eyes to stray to the corner where Chuck and Hank sat, taking their sweet time over coffee. Still, her gaze found its way there every time she turned around.
Chuck’s broad shoulders and the high-and-tight military haircut made butterflies swarm in her belly and stirred the longing she’d thought was buried with the letters from Chuck she’d kept in a box beneath her bed.
She hadn’t opened them for fear she’d lose her determination and conviction that she was doing the right thing by moving on. Yet she hadn’t returned them or thrown them away. At first, he’d sent a letter every other day after he’d deployed to Afghanistan. When she refused to respond, the letters slowed to a trickle until about a month before Charlie was born, when they’d stopped altogether.
In her eighth month of pregnancy, PJ had never felt more alone. Sure, Cara Jo had been beside her, had gone to prenatal classes with her and coached her through the actual delivery, but it wasn’t the same.
The guilt of not having told Chuck of the baby and her continued longing gnawed at her heart. She hadn’t wanted to give her heart to him, knowing he’d leave her and possibly never come back. With her luck, he’d die just like every other presumably permanent person in her life. Her mother, what little she remembered of her, and her adoptive mother. Hell, she had never known her father.
Now she had Charlie in her life, and every day she worried that something horrible would happen to her. And it almost had the night before.
On her break PJ retreated to the diner office to use the telephone and dialed the number for the day care.
“Heavenly Hope Day Care, this is Dana.”
“Oh, good,” PJ breathed. “Just the person I wanted to talk to.”
“PJ?”
“I know it’s overprotective of me, but I had to call and check on Charlie.”
“I’m holding her in my arms as we speak. She’s just fine.” Dana paused. “How about you? You sound a bit shaken.”
“I guess I am after last night’s attack.”
The phone clattered and Dana muttered an expletive before saying, “Sorry, dropped the phone. Now, what do you mean attack? You didn’t say anything about it when you dropped Charlie off. Did Chuck attack you?”
PJ shoved a hand through her hair and sighed. “Sorry, Dana. I must have forgotten, what with Chuck being there and all.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No. Chuck came in and saved the day.” PJ glanced around the office. “I have to get back to work. I just wanted to know Charlie was okay.”
“I’ll keep an extra special eye on her and let you know of anything out of the ordinary. Sheesh. Attacked? You better fill me in on all the details this afternoon.”
“I will.”
“That’s something a girl doesn’t forget. I guess having Chuck around has you completely rattled.”
“You don’t know the half of it.” PJ said her goodbyes and hung up. When she returned to the dining room, her gaze went straight to the empty corner booth.
The tension eased from her shoulders, and she let go of the breath she’d been holding for what felt like the entire morning.
The sooner she got used to having Chuck around, the better. No doubt, knowing he had a child, the big cowboy wasn’t going anywhere for a while.
The rest of the morning passed quickly with customers straggling in for late breakfast and then into the lunch hours. PJ glanced toward the door every time the bell above it jingled, half expecting Chuck to stride through.
Her nerves were shot by the time the lunch crowd thinned and she hung up her apron. “If you don’t mind, I have to leave early to get some errands done and study before I pick up Charlie at the day care.”
Cara Jo smiled. “No problem. I can handle the cleanup. Go on. And PJ...”
PJ slipped her purse strap over her shoulder and faced Cara Jo.
“Things will turn out for the best. Just you wait and see.” Cara Jo hugged her.
PJ returned the hug, her vision blurred with ready tears. “I hope so.” She left the diner and climbed the back stairs to her apartment over the resort. The shadowy hallway made her hurry along, her key at the ready.
When she stepped into the apartment, her gaze darted all around the postage stamp-size living-room-and-kitchen combo. The normal scents of talcum powder and baby shampoo held a hint of aftershave.
PJ shivered and wondered when that smell would dissipate. She vowed to throw open the windows when she got home that evening to air it out.
As she grabbed her notebook and papers from her corner desk, she paused. The photo album she kept on the shelf above her ancient computer stuck out a little more than usual. It hadn’t been that way that morning when she’d straightened her desk before heading for work.
Her chest tightened as a chill slipped across the back of her neck, making the tiny hairs stand on end. How long would it take to erase the memory of a man breaking and entering her home? Not only had her apartment been breached, but her safe haven had also been compromised.
Every little thing that seemed out of place would get more scrutiny. PJ shoved aside her paranoia and left, carefully locking the door. As a second thought, she tore off a corner of one of her papers and slipped it between the door and jamb above the lock. If someone broke in, the paper would be displaced. Call her crazy, but she needed some measure of security, and though minuscule, the little trick left her feeling a little more in control.
Her apartment behind her, PJ climbed into her car and headed for the law offices of Hanes and Taylor. She had to know what her rights were and what she might face if Chuck decided he wanted custody of Charlie.
Even the slimmest chance of losing custody of her baby had PJ’s gut so knotted she could hardly breathe.
* * *
THROUGHOUT THE DAY, Chuck worked on projects ranging from replacing rotted eaves to mucking stalls. In between tasks, he made it a habit to swing by the diner’s wide windows to peek in at PJ.
So many times during his tour in Afghanistan he’d dreamed of seeing PJ again, of holding her in his arms. In his imagination, he could hear her voice telling him she’d been wrong, that she wanted him in her life no matter what profession he chose.
Those dreams had helped him hold it together during the dangerous missions. The thought of coming back to Wild Oak Canyon to salvage his relationship with the woman he loved ended in a hero’s welcome. Such were his dreams.
The
