Dreaming of Home. Glynna Kaye

she was curious about him.

      “Two years in Flagstaff. I’d just started my second year when 9/11 hit. I was under contract, of course, so I didn’t join up until the school year was over.”

      “Why the Navy?”

      “Family tradition. Dad served and so did my Grandpa Diaz.”

      “Interesting. So you’ve been in the Navy all these years?” She coaxed him with a smile that bumped his respiratory rate up a notch. “And you’re now returning to your first love—teaching?”

      “Well, not exactly.” He chuckled, then sidestepped toward her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Confession time—but remember, if I tell you and you tell anyone else, I’ll have to kill you.”

      She rubbed her hands together in mock anticipation. “Oooh, sounds highly classified.”

      He looked around with exaggerated secretiveness, then lowered his voice. “Can I trust you?”

      She pantomimed zipping her lips.

      He grinned, then sobered. “To be honest, teaching didn’t pump me that much, if you know what I mean. But Davy’s my number one priority now. I’ll do whatever it takes to do what’s best for him, like separating from the Navy and moving back to the old hometown.”

      “So did you do some kind of teaching in the military?”

      “No. When I taught school I was an EMT on the side, then a Corpsman in the Navy. You know, medic stuff. But regular hours and summers off make a whole lot of sense now that I’m doing the single dad thing.”

      She raised a brow, and he hastened on. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I hated teaching, it just may not be my gift.”

      With a quick, tight smile she reached out to the door handle. “Well, I wish you the best of luck.”

      “Thanks.”

      Davy appeared at her side. “Bye, Dad.”

      He lifted a hand in farewell, but didn’t catch Meg’s eye again before the door shut. With a pang of unexpected disappointment, he nevertheless whistled all the way back to the house.

      “I thought you’d sworn off women.” Bill flipped the switch on the dishwasher, then walked to the living room and eased into his oversized leather chair.

      Joe looked up from the Phoenix paper he’d spread across the dining table. “What are you talking about?”

      “Meg.”

      “You’re the one who invited her to dinner. You and Davy. Not me.”

      “Yeah, and you’ve bombarded me with questions about her for the past twenty minutes.”

      Joe shook his head as he stared at the red silk flowers still adorning the table. “Dad, it’s called good parenting. I need to know what kind of person you want to let my son hang out with. You can’t tell me that when I was Davy’s age you’d have let me go off with some stranger you didn’t know anything about.”

      “In a heartbeat.”

      “Yeah, right.” Joe stood and moved to the front window to scrutinize the recreational vehicle sheltering his son. “Not a good idea, Dad, for Davy to get attached to someone who won’t be around for long.”

      Inwardly, Joe cringed. Good going. He left the door wide open for a well-deserved chastisement. Neither of them had brought up the issue, and some days it hung like an invisible barrier between them.

      The leather chair squeaked. “Who says she won’t be around?”

      Relieved at his father’s benign response, Joe motioned at the campground. “Pretty clear, don’t you think? Part-time jobs. Living in an RV.”

      “Meg McGuire is a good girl. A little down on her luck.”

      Joe turned to his father. “What’s that mean? She was evasive when I asked why she lived in an RV.”

      “Transitioning. Trying to make a fresh start.”

      “From what? Rehab? The state pen?”

      Bill peered at his son over the top of his glasses. “Show a little faith in me, Joe. Davy is my grandson.”

      He shifted. “Sorry. It’s just that—”

      “Look, besides your own cousin’s recommendation, Sharon Dixon also vouches for her. Says Meg roomed with her daughter at ASU. You remember Kara don’t you?”

      “Vaguely.” The name sounded familiar. Couldn’t put it to a face. “So what constitutes down on her luck?”

      “Nobody tells me anything around here. But I’m picking up that like most people these days, there’s a broken relationship wedged in Meg’s not-too-distant past. I’m guessing she’s attempting to put some miles in between.” Bill turned off the lamp, rose from his chair and then stepped to the window. “You gotta remember, not everyone is as fortunate to have what you and Selena had.”

      Joe’s jaw tightened. “Don’t encourage Davy in this, okay?”

      “Come on. A kid needs a woman in his life. You know that better than anyone.” When Joe didn’t respond, his dad continued. “And it’s good for a kid to have more than one adult to relate to.”

      Since when did his father become the all-knowing expert at parenting? “I’d rather we didn’t pick someone off the street for my son to bond with.”

      Bill laid a hand on his shoulder, gripping it hard. “There’s nothing to worry about, kiddo. I’ve seen Meg with the kids at church, and they love her. Everybody around here loves her. And the RV sits not two-hundred steps off my front deck. If you let Davy sleep over, you can stay up all night with your binoculars trained on the place. Or call every half hour—I have her cell number.”

      The hand gripped his shoulder harder before he stepped away, avoiding his son’s gaze.

      “What? Something about her is bothering you.”

      His father’s expression contorted with indecision. “Probably not for me to say.”

      “Come on, Dad.”

      The older man grimaced. “She’s a teacher, too.”

      “So? She told me she subs around here.”

      “Did it occur to you that she subs because she’s waiting for a permanent opening—teaching science?”

      Joe’s heart stilled. No way. Not thirty minutes ago, lapping up her attention, he’d dropped his guard and spilled his guts about teaching. Said it didn’t pump him.

      Oh, man. Right into the hands of the competition?

      “What makes you think that? She didn’t say anything to me, and I mentioned the job when I first met her. We even discussed it again tonight.”

      “Put two and two together, that’s all.”

      He let out a breath of pent-up air. “But you don’t know it for a fact, right? She didn’t tell you that.”

      “No. But I got thinking about it at dinner tonight. It makes sense, doesn’t it? Meg’s been here since last spring. Subbing. Like she’s waiting for something.”

      Joe scowled, irritation rising. “Why are you telling me this? So I can—what? Not apply so she can have it? Get a job waiting tables down at Kit’s?”

      “Of course not.”

      “Dad, I don’t have to tell you there are few jobs in this town for a man to earn a decent living. This is my hometown. Not Meg’s. I have a kid to support. I want to raise him right here in Canyon Springs. I thought you wanted that, too.”

      “I do. I just wanted you to know, that’s all. Meg’s become