The Soldier And The Single Mom. Lee McClain Tobin

one of the most dangerous double black diamond slopes in California. He didn’t have a chance.”

      “I’m sorry.” Why did a guy do drugs when he had a wife and baby who needed him?

      Then again, why did any addict do what he did?

      “So that’s not who you’re running from.”

      She shook her head. “No. It’s...my in-laws.”

      “Your husband’s family? What’s the problem there?”

      She sighed. “Abuse, if you must know. I don’t want to talk about it.”

      Buck’s pulse rate shot up. There it was. He’d like to get his hands on those people. “If they abused you or Bobby, they should go to prison.”

      “They should, but they won’t,” she said with complete certainty.

      “They’re that powerful?”

      “They’re that powerful.”

      The sky was black velvet now, the air cooling more. She huddled under the blanket she’d been using as a nursing cover. She looked so pretty. So vulnerable. So in need of protection.

      As was the little baby now sleeping in his arms.

      He wasn’t going to let anything happen between him and Gina, no way, but he had to let her stay. Dion had asked him to, and he had a lot to report to the police chief. And maybe, just maybe, it was a way for him to get over Ivana, move on. Maybe this was part of the restitution he was trying to practice in his recovery.

      He was to make amends for wrongs he had done. Well, he was doing that with bar owners around town, with friends he’d borrowed from. With Lacey, who’d had to put up with a lot from him during his two-year drinking spree.

      But the people he’d wronged the most were dead.

      Could he make restitution through Gina and Bobby? Give something to them, and that way right the balance with his wife and child, who were beyond earthly help?

      And once he’d made his restitution and saved up a little money, he’d leave. Leave, with a clean slate, and start over somewhere where nobody knew his past. It was what he wanted. All he wanted. All he was working for.

      The wind blew the cool farm air toward the house, fragrant with fresh-plowed earth. Crickets sang out in a chorus. Streetlights flickered on down the block, where the shops were.

      He slid one hand away from the baby and into his pocket where he carried his recovery coin. Six months sober. He could handle this new challenge.

      “I’ll talk to Lacey,” he said gruffly. “Try to get her to let you stay awhile. And you can work on the renovation with me.”

       Chapter Four

      Later that night, Gina had just closed her eyes when her phone buzzed. She grabbed it, not wanting to risk waking Bobby.

      When she saw it was her friend Haley, back in California, she sat upright. “Hang on,” she whispered and slipped a robe over her lightweight tank top and shorts.

      Grabbing her phone, she hurried down to the small alcove on the landing of the stairs. It was one of the few public areas in the guesthouse that was finished, with lace curtains and a braided rug. She settled into the window seat, pulled her feet up underneath her and leaned back against comfortable cushions. She could see the half-open door of her room at the top of the stairs, so she’d notice if Bobby stirred.

      “Okay, I can talk,” she said quietly. “How are you? I miss you so much!” Ever since she and Haley had shared a room on the maternity floor, their babies born within hours of one another, they’d been close friends. Haley was the only person in whom Gina had confided about her plans to leave town.

      “I miss you, too, but that’s not why I called.”

      “Are the dogs okay?”

      Haley laughed. “They’re bad, and spoiled, but you know I love them. No, that’s not the problem.”

      “Did you find anything out?” She was hoping, though not expecting, that Haley had figured out a way she could gain access to some of the money she should have inherited as Hank’s widow.

      “It’s not good news.” Haley cleared her throat and went into business mode, not a problem for her since she worked in a bank. “I’ve been nosing around, and it sounds like assets in probate can be tangled up for a year, eighteen months if the estate is complicated.”

      “Which it is.” Hank’s parents, seeing the mess Hank had made of his life after Bobby was born, had put most of his inheritance in trust. Gina even suspected that they’d gotten Hank to sign some CDs over to them when he was high.

      “I talked to my manager—in confidence, didn’t identify you—and she said that because there wasn’t a will, there’s no way around this long process. I’m so mad Hank didn’t protect you and Bobby!”

      “I know.” Gina’s chest ached, as it always did when she thought of Hank. He’d been so much fun when they’d first met; he’d swept her off her feet, had loved her madly. In the first two years of their marriage she’d realized his partying went further than it should—sometimes much further—but they’d still had a base of love and care for each other.

      Bobby’s arrival had changed everything. The responsibility of fatherhood had overwhelmed Hank, and Gina, sleep deprived and cranky, hadn’t been as understanding as before. He’d gone off the deep end, dug into his bad habits and made the leap from recreational drug user to addict.

      “He wasn’t thinking straight,” she said to Haley and left it at that.

      “The good news is, within a few years, when it’s all straightened out, you and Bobby should be okay.” Haley’s voice didn’t sound all that reassuring, though.

      “It sounds like there’s a but in there somewhere.”

      “There is.” Haley’s voice sounded shaky. “Gina, there’s a big problem.”

      “What? Tell me.” Gina’s heart felt like a stone. She wanted to start a new life, for herself but even more, for Bobby. But right now, it seemed like she’d never get free.

      “It’s your in-laws. When I saw Hank’s cousin this morning, she told me they’re going to report your car as stolen.”

      “What?” From the downstairs kitchen, Gina heard what sounded like an argument and lowered her voice. “That car’s mine! Hank gave it to me!”

      “But is the title in your name?”

      Gina squeezed her eyes shut as if she could block out this unwelcome news. “No. It was in Hank’s name.”

      “And since the estate’s stuck in probate...”

      Gina leaned her head back against the window, staring up at the ceiling. If they’d reported the car stolen, she was essentially a common criminal.

      “Gina? Honey?”

      Gina blew out a breath. “I’ll be tracked down for sure, then, because the police department here has my vehicle information. What am I going to do?” Her voice broke on the last couple of words, and she swallowed hard, determined to maintain control.

      “I’ve already thought about that. You’ve got to give it back, that’s all.”

      “Give it back? When I’m here and they’re in California?”

      “Yep, and I’ve figured out how. You use one of those driving services. They load your vehicle on a truck and drive it across the country. It’s done all the time.”

      Gina was still wrapping her mind around the facts: that her car wasn’t her car, and that she was a wanted criminal. “It’s got to