Hunting April (18 page)

After fussing in the dish cupboards for glasses, Abigail poured the lemonade.

She sat at the kitchen table across from April, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh, man, he's gonna have my butt."Abigail shook her head, finally looked at April. "Glennon had been married while he was still Uncle Sam's young fair-haired Marine. From what the guys let drop, he was a total kick-ass Force Recon dude. Quite the knack, the magic touch, for snooping out intel from the weirdest sources. Well, one time when he was home on leave, his wife . . . ." Abigail's voice cracked. "His wife was killed during a robbery at a gas station convenience store. Lisa—her name was Lisa—

and an attendant were shot. The cops took out the killers in a firefight. Glennon blames himself."

April, stunned, sat back in her chair, slack-jawed. "Why?"

"Don't know the whole story—he believes he should have been at the gas station instead of her."

"Holy shit. I had no idea. Why didn't he say anything?"

"He doesn't talk about it. I found out totally by accident. One night, the guys were drinking fairly seriously, which is kinda unusual. They prefer to stay sharp."

"Why that night?"

"Best guess? Lorelei found out she was pregnant, and they were celebrating.

Adam was over the moon, Lucian went totally bonkers and couldn't wait to tell everyone. But Glennon . . . well, he lost it. The story I wheedled out of Lucian was that Glennon's Lisa was pregnant when she was gunned down, but he didn't know. I guess he wanted to be happy for his buds, but . . . . I poured him into my bed that night. The next morning, he left the lodge, skedaddled back to Jersey."

"He walked out on you?"

"Don't be stupid."

"But you said, y'know, about bed . . . ."

Abigail swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "He fell into my bed. Well, the bed I use when I stay over. I jerked his boots off, tossed a blanket over him, and . . .

went to sleep." She abruptly looked away for a moment.

"Lorelei wasn't feeling well, so she'd headed up to her room early. I was in no mood to sit up all night drinking with Adam and Lucian in cheerful celebration. They're great guys and I'm happy for them, but I'm not really a kid and family kinda person.

Being around babies and people making goo-goo gaga noises and goofy faces makes me break out in a rash."

"Her room? But I thought . . . .

"Don't be concerned if you're behind on figuring out the sleeping arrangements.

You need a scorecard around here. Lorelei has her own room, but the guys share their beds with her. It seems like a complicated deal to me, but it apparently works for them.

I've never seen Adam happier."

Abigail paused for a moment, her expression thoughtful. "Truth be told, none of us ever actually saw Adam happy, until Lorelei crashed into their lives. Literally." She chuckled. "And Lucian, God love him. That boy is definitely knee-deep in happy—plus he's an annoyingly cheerful bugger as it is. Sometimes it's tough to remember he's a stone cold, Marine killing machine."

April made daisy designs with the condensation rings her glass left on the table.

And you're not telling all, Ms. Park Ranger, are you?
"So, I didn't do anything to make Glennon hate me?"

"Hate you? If he hated you, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"We shouldn't be having this conversation, anyway. He has the hots for you, not me." April grabbed a paper towel to deal with the mess she made. "Look, Daniel and I . .

. ."

For some reason, she couldn't finish the thought.
Daniel and I—what?

"Yeah, I know about Daniel and you. Tough to miss. But it doesn't mean Glennon's all right with it. I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't care for the dumb ass, but you're the shiny new toy and I don't do seconds." Abigail pushed her chair away from the table, then returned the lemonade jug to the fridge.

It took a moment before Abigail's meaning became clear. "There's nothing between Glennon and me," April said."You're not
second
anything, trust me. There's nothing I have that he wants."

The cat meowed at the back door. April let her in, watched as she made her way directly to the far end of the kitchen, where ceramic salad bowls served as small food and water dishes.

"Hi, Callie Cat." April had asked Abigail to pick up cat kibbles on her way to the lodge; she took up the offer, as well, of a cat crate that Abigail kept handy for moving small varmints when the need arose.

"How do you think the cat got here, anyway? This place is in the middle of nowhere, without neighbors. Sort of
Where the Wild Things Are
territory. Not the place for a housecat. With a collar."

Abigail shrugged. "Vacationers. This is the time of the year, the season for drop-offs. People bring their pets on vacation. Sometimes they dump them on purpose before they go home, sometimes the pets get lost. Usually foxes or coyotes get them, especially cats."

Finished with breakfast, the cat sauntered over, tail held high, moving with the disdain only a cat could manage. She leveled a baleful stare at Abigail.

"Watch your attitude, Mouse Breath, or you'll be back to bein' homeless."

The cat jumped onto April's lap with a
so there
attitude.

Scritching the creature between her ears, April shook her head. "That's criminal.

If it's not criminal, it should be. Well, she has a home now."

"Oh yeah, it should be a hoot when Adam and Lucian get back."

* * * * *

After Glennon landed in the trauma center, April began sleeping in Daniel's room, every night. It felt natural to both of them, and they saw no reason to alter their arrangement when Glennon and Abigail came back to the lodge.

April was asleep by the time Daniel reached his room. He quietly got ready for bed, then slid next to her. All he heard was her soft
mmm
when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his body, the perfect spoon position.

Daniel wasn't exactly sure when his life had made such a sudden turn in this direction, but he liked it. He liked it a great deal.

In his formative years, Daniel never suffered from a lack of female companionship. Darkly handsome even as a youngster, he—or rather, his sparkling gray eyes—seemed to mesmerize the female population, from grade school on through college. He liked women, and he enjoyed them. He was a considerate lover, always fulfilling his partners' sexual desires—within reason. However, he'd never been a romantic. Although he exuded that tantalizing bad boy persona that caused even sedate women to swoon, he kept his hell raising under control, until he'd earned his way into the elite ranks of the Rangers.

In Daniel's experience, he usually lasted through only a couple of dates, three on the outside, before the woman involved became possessive, and assumed they would, of course, be exclusive. He had no burning desire for an exclusive relationship.

Daniel's parents had a solid, loving relationship based on mutual respect and loyalty. He knew he wanted what they had, somewhere down the line, but he hadn't been ready to settle down to a more sedentary life. While he was in the Rangers, he refused to commit to a relationship when he could die at any moment. The way he saw it, his life choices were his alone. He didn't expect anyone else to suffer from the risks he lived with on a daily basis.

But April—April Hall was different. She made him feel things he'd never felt before, brought emotions to the surface that surprised him. When he first saw her at Martone's, he was totally taken by her genuineness, her kindness to those around her.

And even though she didn't act like a mobster's trashy, flashy, woman—hell, she didn't even know her fiancé
was
a mobster, at first—she was the most sensual creature Daniel had ever met. He'd known he was right the first time she came to his bed.

Still deeply asleep, April nestled her bottom more tightly against Daniel's groin, folded both arms around one of his forearms, and sighed contentedly.

Damn, I'll never get tired of this
. He buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair, ignored his half-hard cock, and drifted off to sleep—to dreams of dark-haired children running through Scottish heather.

Friday

Dark thunderclouds, hanging low and heavy with moisture, had moved in. The glass-paneled front wall of the great room allowed the magnificent summer views to light up the lodge, so the threatening storm seemed equally up close and personal to April. Too heavy to stay airborne, fat raindrops finally landed on the stones of the walkway, soon joined by others. Many others. It made for a lazy day, a gray day, a good day to catch up on reading, drinking coffee, sipping tea, working at various computers.

April had finished another firearms training session with Daniel after dinner, then a sweaty session on the mats with Abigail. Afterward, she'd showered, left them to their practice. Now they were upstairs, doing their own shower things, and Glennon was in the com center.

Glennon. She knew she needed to face him.
I just can't do it. I can't deal with him
right now. "
I can't," she said, to the empty room.

April had been in middle school. One of her mom's favorite dairy goats, a pretty, little,
black and white doe, had delivered twin kids. One was robust, nursed vigorously. The other
hadn't fared so well. April begged to bottle feed the tiny kid. Her mom finally relented. "This
baby is your responsibility, now."

Try as she might, April could not get the kid to suckle from the bottle. She brought the
tiny failing creature into the kitchen, placed it on a folded blanket, tried again. Her mother came
into the room. "Honey, that little one needs nourishment, or it's going to die very soon."

April made as if to fling the glass nursing bottle across the room. "I can't do it. I tried
and tried, and I just can't do it. Stupid baby."

Usually a reasonable and gentle person, April's mom lifted her daughter by her shirt
collar and stood her on her feet. "You can't? You can't! What you really mean is you won't.

What you really mean is that it's too much trouble for you, when you'd rather be outdoors
playing with your friends. That little baby is depending on you for its very life. You promised to
do your best. Look into your heart—have you really done your very best? If you believe you have,
then stand back and let the baby die."

April, horrified at her mother's words, stared at the small limp animal.

"Now, young lady, you sit on the floor, take that baby in your arms while it still has
breath in its body, and coax it until it takes that bottle. Be gentle. Be patient. And don't ever say
the words 'I can't' again." Her mother stroked April's unruly hair. "You can."

April could, and she did. The kid lived and flourished, next to its twin.

April heard the soft electric whine of the elevator, forced herself out of her memories. Forced herself to turn away from the rain. Forced herself to face the situation.

Well, I suppose it's now or never
. April couldn't avoid Glennon forever. The longer she waited, the worse the anticipation of a confrontation. After Glennon emerged from the elevator, she trapped him in a corner of the great room. The heavy, awkward cast acted like a boat anchor and prevented him from escaping. The crutch wasn't very helpful. His left arm was still strapped tightly to his torso, which added insult to injury.

In the most literal sense.

"Glennon."

"April, wait. I need to say something."

"Me first, fella, before I lose my nerve." She held up her palm to stop him when his mouth opened." I guess I owe you an apology for flipping out and running off like I did. It was stupid and dangerous. Righteous indignation is one of my worst character flaws. My mom swears I get so totally caught up in an overwhelming sense of righteous indignation that I wouldn't see a locomotive's headlight beam if I was standing smack dab in the middle of the train tracks and the light was focused in the center of my forehead. I've been known to, well, overreact."
Wow, that was sorta overkill, maybe. I'm not
really that bad—am I?

He looked away at first, then finally faced her. "Look, Abigail really beat me up over this. Apparently, I'm a real dickhead. Handled the situation badly. I guess Abby was right. Wasn't your fault. There was no way for you to know there was history. You didn't do anything wrong."

It took a bit of maneuvering to lay the crutch against a chair, then gather her to him with his one good arm. "We'll never know how it might have turned out between us, but I guess we can live with that."

His arm still wrapped around her shoulders, he kissed her forehead. Like a brother, not a lover. "Friends?"

Still tucked against the uninjured part of his body, she returned his kiss in like fashion, a sisterly peck on his cheek. "Friends."

* * * * *

Daniel stormed down to the great room from the gallery level. His boots hit the stairs with such force that the couple flew apart.

"Daniel, hi, Glennon and I . . . ."

"I
saw
Glennon and you." He roared past them. "I can see you and Garrett
very
clearly. Bloody stupid sonofabitch I am, isn't that right? Was it all worth a good giggle?"

"
What
? Daniel,
no
, wait, hang on—" April grabbed for his arm, missed.

With a horrific
crack
, lightning struck close enough to illuminate the great room with a dazzling flash. The perimeter alarm in the kitchen shrieked almost immediately, echoed barely a second later by an alert in the com center.

Daniel didn't hesitate. He automatically checked the Sig in his shoulder holster, made sure it had a full clip.