Someone to Watch Over Me. Roz Fox Denny

in her hand before sliding it into the pocket of her slacks. “You’d better start eating some of the goodies you fix, Izzy. Goodness, girl, you’re wasting away.”

      Isabella raised an unsteady hand to rub her throat. She found it almost impossible to make herself eat, ever since her children’s deaths. And now she couldn’t force a response past the lump that seemed to stay lodged in her throat. When would the mere thought of losing Toni and Ramon quit causing her problems with swallowing and breathing? Molly, her psychiatrist, said it would eventually ease.

      “Oh, darlin’. Shut my mouth. I didn’t mean to remind you…of…” Audrey clamped her lips closed. “I, uh, maybe I will throw a little party to commemorate fifty years with that old buzzard.” Outwardly flustered, she hurriedly withdrew into the kitchen again.

      Isabella felt bad. She drove people away. And that hurt, too. But she couldn’t help it. Molly said the mind was an unpredictable thing.

      As Isabella soberly went back to her work, she urged her mind down a different road. She tried to picture what her life would be like fifty years from now. She didn’t particularly like the vision she conjured up—a wizened, skeletal version of the unhappy woman who gazed back at her each day from the bathroom mirror. Trini was right. They were all right. She couldn’t go on as she was. But how could she not be the spokes-person for her silent children?

      Her icy lips formed the mantra she began and ended each day with. “When I see Julian properly punished, I’ll worry about getting my life back.”

      GABE SETTLED back into the soft leather seat of his luxury SUV and let Marc’s and Reggie’s endless talk swirl around him. They knew each other so well, Gabe could almost predict the path of their conversation. Reggie would talk for a while about the injured livestock he’d healed. Then Marc would jump in and expound on the virtues of the latest sports cars out on the market. Once they’d exhausted those subjects, their interest would undoubtedly veer toward women.

      He grinned when their conversation did exactly that.

      Moss, who’d changed from his suit into worn jeans and a short-sleeved plaid shirt, stretched his lanky frame across Gabe’s middle set of seats. “So, Marc. Are you really serious about tying yourself down to Lizzy Woodruff?”

      Marc darted a quick glance at Gabe before he turned sideways in his seat to see both his friends. An oddly dreamy expression softened his pewter-gray eyes. “Lizzy’s the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

      “How do you know?” Gabe jerked his eyes off the road long enough to frown at Marc.

      From the back, Moss guffawed. “You said it yourself, Gabe, when you pointed out that little Lizzy’s daddy owns a string of car dealerships.”

      Marc bolted upright. “That’s a dog-faced lie! Granted, I met Lizzy at one of her dad’s dealerships, where I went to scope out a car. But cars have nothing to do with why I’m going back to Utah to take our relationship to the next level.”

      “I’m serious, Marc,” Gabe said. “How do you know Lizzy’s the one and only?”

      “How did Coltrane know Summer was it for him?”

      “I have no idea.” Gabe smacked the steering wheel. “Especially since he bombed completely back when he married Monica.”

      “Now, she was a piece of work,” Reggie said.

      “Yeah. But I remember envying Colt back then. Hell, we all did.”

      “Our priorities were different, I guess,” Marc muttered.

      Mossberger jumped in again. “In the Corps, we had stuff to prove. But even then we had each other. When Colt married Monica, it was like we lost something.” He shook his head. “Before he was captured in that operation that went bad, we thought we were invincible. Suddenly we were ordinary. Men with shortcomings. That changed us.”

      Marc’s brows drew together over the bridge of his nose. “Jeez, Moss, you make us sound like a bunch of losers.”

      Gabe sneaked a peek at Reggie in the rearview mirror. “I think Moss is trying to say that when we were faced with our own mortality, we woke up. On some level, we all knew Monica was a user. But tough guys like us were supposed to bag a trophy wife.”

      “Yeah. Two by two is nature’s way. All God’s species come in pairs.”

      “Spoken like a veterinarian,” Marc jeered. “This conversation’s getting too deep for me. Lizzy’s nothing like Monica. She works and she takes care of her grandmother. Best of all, she has a great sense of humor.”

      Gabe grabbed Marc’s arm. “Wait. Maybe Moss is onto something. Guys usually get along when we hang out together. Once the pack breaks up and we’re shuffling around on our own, loneliness forces us to start searching for a mate. Someone to keep us company.”

      “Marriage is about more than companionship,” Marc said. “Don’t either of you ever think about having kids?” he ventured hesitantly.

      Leaning forward, Reggie planted his bony elbows on his knees. “I do. The old vet I trained under worked closely with the area elementary schools. He kept a petting zoo where city kids come to learn about animals. Some kids, well, they got to me, ya know? You guys’ll probably laugh me out of the car, but…I’ve been thinking about adopting. Not a baby. An older kid. I don’t have any prospects for a wife, but I ask myself, do I need a wife to make a home for a kid who has nothing and no one?”

      Gabe tugged at his ear. “I’m not gonna laugh, Moss. Growing up, I kicked around the streets fighting hunger in my belly too often. After Russ Poston threw me out, a home like you’re talking about would’ve seemed like heaven.”

      “Still, if you’d had your druthers,” Marc argued, “wouldn’t you have preferred having a mom and a dad? I sure want a kid of mine to have both.”

      “Aha! So when’s the wedding?” Gabe drawled. At the same time Reggie whooped and said, “Is Lizzy pregnant?”

      Marc turned bright red. “It’s not like that with us. She, uh, we aren’t sleeping together…yet,” Marc qualified, growing ever more crimson.

      “Whoa! I believe our ol’ buddy is dead serious about this little gal.” Moss slumped again. “Man, before long I’m gonna be the only one of the fearsome foursome who’s still single.”

      “When did I get booted out of the club?” Gabe asked.

      “You think I didn’t see you making cow eyes at that babe today?”

      “What babe?” Marc’s flush subsided and a gleam flickered in his eyes. “What’d I miss? Gabe’s yanking my chain over Lizzy when he’s hot for some Callanton babe?”

      “It’s true,” Moss declared over Gabe’s vociferous denial. “You mean you didn’t see him stalking that tall, black-haired caterer with his tongue hanging out?”

      “Keep it up, Reggie,” Gabe warned, “and you’ll be out on the roadside hitching your way to the airport.”

      “I see! You can razz me, but your woman’s off limits? No fair! Give with the details, pal.” Marc wasn’t about to let it go.

      Gabe clammed up as he curled his hands around the steering wheel and kept his eyes on the road.

      “She served us cake at the reception,” Reggie supplied for Marc’s benefit.

      “I don’t remember even seeing her. You might’ve tipped me off,” Marc grumbled to Reggie. “So what’s her name?”

      “You won’t drop this, will you?” Gabe blew out a stream of air, watching both men lean toward him. When they only continued to leer owlishly, he reluctantly supplied her name. “Isabella. Isabella Navarro.”

      When nothing but silence followed his admission, Marc gave another nudge. “How long have you two been dating? Jeez, Gabe, talk about me working fast.