Taking a Chance on the Single Dad

‘Coming, son.’ Hunter glared at her as he snatched up his trousers and stepped into them. ‘This is why I have no intention of getting into a permanent relationship.’

‘I didn’t wake him by yelling the roof down,’ Brenna said as she hauled her jersey over her head. ‘I don’t want to upset Dylan either.’

‘Then stay away from us.’ He swung the door wide and scooped Dylan up in his arms. ‘My boy’s a sucker for love, needs someone to focus on him, and that can’t be a woman who might not come home at the end of the day.’ If Hunter had yelled that at her she might’ve been able to absorb it without wanting to break down and cry, to beg to be given another chance. But he spoke softly, without menace or emotion, without kindness or anything close to the love she felt for him, just putting his opinion out there for her to know. Because Dylan’s mother hadn’t come home from that accident.

She spun away, swiped a hand across her eyes and turned back. ‘For the record, I am leading my own life, and don’t need anyone stepping in to tell me to do otherwise. I don’t push too far, but neither am I going wrap myself in cotton wool.’

‘Guess we know where we stand, then.’ Hunter stalked out of his bedroom, Dylan wrapped in his arms.

Better now than later; though, in reality, it was already too late for her. Now she’d have to start over, putting her heart back together, piece by piece.

As she walked—not ran because that would show Hunter how distressed she was—down the hall a phone rang.

‘Hello, Mum. This is a bit late for you to be calling. What’s up?’ Hunter’s tone sounded light but when Brenna glanced over her shoulder the tension was obvious in his tight shoulders and the hand gripping the phone to his ear. Because of her or his mother, who could say?

Did she stay to see if he needed comfort or help if something was wrong back in Kamloops? One look at his eyes told her ‘not wanted’. She went into Dylan’s room to wake a reluctant Poppy and, hand on collar, headed for the front door.

‘How bad are his injuries?’ Worry inflected Hunter’s question.

Again, she faltered.

Then, ‘His shoulder’s broken. That’s going to take some time to heal.’ Hunter’s voice faded as he entered the sitting room.

The front door shut behind her with an abrupt click, like even the house wanted shot of her. Loneliness rose, filled her, making her eyes water. Which was ridiculous. She had her mum and her sisters, girlfriends who were always at the end of a phone, workmates to share time out with, the cycling gang. She was not lonely, not by any standards. A head nudged at her thigh, thankfully not the bruised one, and she gave Poppy a pat. ‘Yes, and then there’s you, my girl.’ My dog, not my child.

I don’t have a soul mate.

Brenna turned to look back at the house. Hunter stood behind the window, still talking on the phone, Dylan still tucked against his chest, his gaze fixed doggedly somewhere to the right of the path she was on, staring unseeingly at something she had no idea about. She knew it wasn’t her.

Forgotten already.

Yet again supplanted by his parents.

She was better off without Hunter back in her life. No expectations to get blitzed.

CHAPTER EIGHT

POPPY HAD TO be pushed into the car.

‘I’ll drive slowly, promise.’

When the engine failed to turn over first time, bile soaked her mouth. ‘You might be in luck, Pops. We could be walking home yet.’ Going back inside to ask Hunter for help would be embarrassing. He’d probably deny he had a starter pack.

No, he wouldn’t. He was better than that. He cared about people, didn’t like to see anyone in trouble. But he might tonight. With her anyway. They’d pushed each other’s buttons too hard. This time they’d gone way past the point of no return. Any chance of reconciling had evaporated. She’d been kidding herself to think they might get back together.

Please, start. Please. I’ll get you serviced this week. I promise.

It was long overdue. The ignition turned and the engine spluttered to life. Thank goodness for small wonders. She drove away, in a hurry to get home and hide out in her space. She’d go online and book the car into the service station for Friday. Might even take a look at the photos that were her life to remind herself why she participated in some of the adventures that filled her weekends.

Poppy whined.

Oh, hell. Lifting her foot from the accelerator, she let the car slow to ten kilometres an hour and reached across to rub Poppy’s head. ‘Sorry, girl. Got a lot on my mind. I’ve gone and stuffed up with Hunter.’

Mum would add ‘again’ to that sentence if she were within hearing distance.

Apparently, I didn’t try hard enough to keep Hunter in my life last time.

Was she trying now? Or driving away without having a deep and necessary conversation with him?

The thing was, even if Maxine Ford hadn’t rung, tonight hadn’t been the time to sit and talk it out. They had both been angry. She was hurting, and she didn’t mean her bruised muscles. Who knew if Hunter ached for what they might’ve had or could have? Things would be calmer in the morning. Not that they’d be talking about the deep and personal, but they could work at smiling and making coffee for each other on base.

It didn’t work out like that.

‘Hunter’s not coming in today, and probably not tomorrow,’ Kevin told her the moment she walked into the hangar. ‘You’ll have to put up with me.’

‘That’s fine,’ she told him as disbelief welled. He was avoiding her? Or worse. Something horribly wrong had happened? ‘Did he say why?’

‘Only that someone’s sick. I didn’t think I had the right to ask for a full explanation since he has stepped up to help us out when he’s obviously got a lot going on.’

Not again. His mother phones and he disappears. Thank goodness they hadn’t got too far down the track of re-establishing their relationship, then. If that had been on the cards, and after last night she really doubted it. ‘I’ll put the coffee on.’

‘Problem?’ Kevin asked in a quieter tone. She’d forgotten this man rarely missed a thing when it came to his crews and their emotions.

‘Nothing I can’t deal with.’ She found him a smile to show she was all right. On the outside, anyway. But when she put her bag in her locker, she found herself waiting to hear the gravelly laugh that was Hunter. Leaning her head against the locker door, she drew in some deep breaths and waited for her stomach to settle. It was going to be a long week. First there were the days Hunter wasn’t here and she’d be fighting this intense yearning to hear him, work with him, laugh and share breakfast at midday. Then he’d be back, and she’d actually have to work with him, while denying her feelings were out of control.

Brenna got lucky.

On Tuesday night, as she trudged through the hangar to head home after a gruelling callout where a six-year-old girl had suffered severe injuries from being repeatedly hit over the head with a hockey stick by a seven-year-old boy, Kevin called out from his office. ‘Got a minute?’

How many did he want? She had plenty to spare. ‘What’s up?’

‘Like a drink? I think we deserve it after that. Hell, how can a child do that to another?’

‘I’d love one.’ Brenna sank into the chair in the corner and crossed her legs. ‘The police and the welfare services have got their hands full. What if Ebony doesn’t survive? It’s not as though a seven-year-old can be prosecuted for manslaughter. Or murder.’ They’d been to the rougher neighbourhood of the city, but no one could’ve predicted what they’d seen. Ebony’s mother had been beside herself with fear and tearing up the street after the boy’s parents, ready to kill them if she got her hands on them.

‘We did everything we could. Focus on that. There’s no understanding what some people will do, and I’ve learned not to try and figure it all out. Only gets me wound up and

doesn’t solve a thing.’

She took the glass he handed her and gave him a small smile. ‘You’re being very wise tonight.’

‘Yeah, right.’ He looked as tired as she felt. Problems in his camp too?

‘You okay?’

He nodded slowly. ‘I’m fine.’ He didn’t sound it, but Brenna recognised the stop sign.

Sipping her drink, she changed the subject. ‘How’s Patch? I haven’t spoken to him for a few days.’

‘Fed up with being stuck at home. I’m thinking he could come in and do some of the desk work while I cover the callouts. I’ll give him a buzz before I head home.’

‘So next week I’ll be working with you?’ Giving him an eye roll she added, ‘Guess I can handle that.’

‘Actually, I’ll be with you for the rest of this week too. Hunter’s not coming back.’

‘Oh.’ The drink sloshed in her stomach. Not coming back to the rescue base? Or not coming back to Vancouver? Not that she’d established he’d left the city to race across to the Okanagan, but why else had he not come into work?

‘You two have quite a history, don’t you?’ When she didn’t answer, Kevin added, ‘It’s been impossible not to hear you talking about your past.’

It wasn’t as though they’d tried to hide it. ‘We were together three years, and talking about getting married, then life got in the way and we went in separate directions.’ Put like that, it sounded so uncomplicated, as though neither them had cared too much, hadn’t felt devastated and broken.