“Are you from Colorado?” Casey asked. She’d seen the curiosity in his eyes and didn’t want to answer any more of his questions. The best defense was a good offense. If Casey wanted her past to remain buried and unavailable to anyone, she needed to ask the questions instead.
“No,” Matt murmured, adding salt and pepper to the eggs now frying in the skillet. “I was born here in Jackson Hole. I went there for my training.”
“Did you always want to be a firefighter?”
Nodding, Matt said, “Yes, my father was one. He was the fire chief here for twenty years before he had a heart attack and died at a fire scene.”
Grimacing, Casey murmured, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to pry….”
“You didn’t,” Matt soothed. He turned and gave her a slight smile meant to reassure her. “You’re new to Jackson Hole. We’re a pretty interesting town. If you haven’t been over to Quilter’s Haven and talked with Gwen Garner, then you probably don’t know all the stuff there is to know about all of us.” He chuckled.
“I met Gwen,” Casey admitted softly. She couldn’t stop looking at the firefighter. He was tall, sinewy, the muscles thick and hard in his upper arms. There was dark hair sprinkled across his lower arms. And she’d seen that hair peeking out above the T-shirt he wore, too. His hair was cut military-short and there was no wasted motion about Matt Sinclaire.
Laughing a little, Matt said, “Then you’ll know all the stories about the residents. Do you sew or quilt?” He lifted the eggs out and put them on a plate. Turning off the gas stove, he removed the skillet and set it aside. Scooping up the blue-and-white plates, he walked to the long, rectangular table and sat down at the end of it. On his left was Megan and on his right, beautiful Casey Cantrell. He gave his daughter a plate and put one down in front of himself. Going to the fridge, he poured Meggie a glass of milk and came over and set it down in front of her.
“Sure you don’t want breakfast?” he asked, sitting down. Opening up his dark green linen napkin, Matt spread it across his lap. He leaned over and helped Meggie arrange the large napkin across her small lap.
“No…no, thank you.”
Shaking his head, he murmured, “I could not move without a big breakfast.” He smiled over at his daughter. “Hey, you’re chowing down today, Meggie. Must be hungry, huh?”
His daughter vigorously dipped her head, her little pigtails moving back and forth across her small shoulders. She relished the scrambled eggs and bacon. Matt had put apricot jam across her toasted spelt bread earlier, and Meggie was dividing her attention between the toast and her bacon right now.
Casey grinned. “Megan looks like she did the day Katie Bergstrom brought the raptor program to Mrs. Harrington’s class.”
Matt ate his eggs and bacon. Between bites he said, “I’ve never seen Megan that excited before.”
“Her teacher noticed that, too,” Casey said, knowing full well Megan probably understood every word they spoke.
“Mrs. Harrington said you had a minor in Education?”
Raising her brows, Casey realized everything was passed around. She’d have to be very careful in the future. “Yes.”
“Did you, at some point,” Matt asked, “want to be a teacher instead of a forest ranger?”
His insight into her was startling. Ever since the trauma she’d endured, Casey had to keep herself hidden from prying eyes. This man, however, seemed to have X-ray vision. Or maybe he could read people’s minds? Moving uncomfortably in the chair, Casey said, “Yes, at one time I wanted to teach first- and second-graders.”
“You love children.”
The statement was filled with curiosity. Casey avoided his momentary burning gaze. Looking down at the mug she had gripped between her hands, she said, “Yes, I love kids….”
Nodding, Matt said, “Megan seemed to really take to you. Her teacher noticed that, too.”
“All I did was stand near her,” Casey protested. And yet, Megan’s blue eyes were always filled with warmth for Casey.
Nodding, Matt quickly finished off his breakfast. “I’d like to speak to you more about that later,” he said, getting up. Picking up his plate and flatware, he carried them over to the sink.
“Of course,” Casey said, fully aware that Matt wanted to talk to her when Megan wasn’t around. “I’d love to give Megan the photos. Are we at a point where I can do that? Charley’s given me two hours off.”
“Right, I know you’re on a deadline,” Matt said, coming back to the table. He put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder. His hand was huge in comparison to the child, and Casey found herself wondering what it would be like to have Matt’s hand on her shoulder. The thought was so foreign, so shocking to Casey that she nearly choked on a sip of coffee.
“All done?” Matt asked Megan.
Nodding, Megan held up her emptied plate to her father. She picked up her glass of milk and sipped from it.
Casey’s heart gave a twinge. What would it be like never to hear your child’s voice again? Only grunts, sighs and unintelligible sounds? If it hurt Matt, he didn’t show it. He quickly cleaned the table so that it shone beneath the lamp above it. Casey pulled open her briefcase and withdrew the photos after he’d sat down.
Megan laughed as Casey handed her the four photos. She had made colored eight-by-tens. The joy in the little girl’s eyes made Casey smile. Megan reverently touched them with her fingers, awe in her expression. She would make sounds and hold each of them up for her father to see.
Casey was shocked when Megan scooted out of her chair, left Elmo in it and ran around the table. The little girl threw her arms around Casey’s waist and buried her head against her breasts.
Caught off guard, Casey automatically closed her arms around Megan. She felt the strength of Megan’s thin arms around her. She was surprisingly strong. Leaning down, Casey whispered her name, pressed a kiss to her soft blond hair and gently squeezed her. When she gazed in Matt’s direction, she saw the stunned look on his face. Unsure what his reaction meant, Casey gently untwined Megan’s arms and looked down at her. Megan was crying. Rasping sounds were escaping her contorted mouth.
Heart twisting, Casey whispered, “Come here…” to Megan and brought her back into her arms. Megan instantly crushed herself against Casey, head buried against her. As Megan clung to her, she behaved like a child who was drowning and grasping for a life raft. Casey’s instincts took over. She absorbed the child’s neediness, her hunger to be nurtured and simply cradled. Mind spinning, Casey wondered if Matt had a relationship with another woman who could provide Megan with some maternal care. Obviously, Megan needed to be held by a woman. And probably any woman would do. Gently running her hand across Megan’s flyaway hair, she smoothed the strands down across her head. Rocking her gently, Casey simply allowed the child to stay as long as she wanted in her arms.
Five minutes later, Megan withdrew. Her cheeks were a fiery red and her eyes danced with excitement as she ran around the table, grabbed the photos and then brought them back to Casey. “What is this?” she asked Megan, hoping that she would talk.
Megan made more guttural sounds, like a puppy that was yelping and happy as she waved the photos in front of Casey’s face.
“I think,” Matt said, his voice sounding