"I live with them. We run a business together."
"What kind of business?"
"My brother's a veterinarian. I'm a licensed veterinary technician." She skirted the roped-off area around a fighter plane. "We fly out to remote locations to treat farm animals."
"What about your cousin?" He braced her back as a crowd of teens jostled past. His hand fell away fast.
"He's our pilot and owns the plane. Or at least he was flying until he busted his ankle falling through a loft while we were out on a call. We've hired a temporary pilot—" She stopped short. "I'm tired of talking about me. Why don't we talk about you for a while?
Something other than the size of your plane, of course."
A laugh caught him as unaware as her humor. She smiled back, crinkling the corners of pretty brown eyes behind those funky black glasses, and damned if he didn't forget what they were talking about altogether. Who needed chitchat? This was a day when he could only enjoy the view, anyway.
"Hey?" Kirstie called, climbing down and halting conversation. "You guys are lookin'
awful red. Are you feelin' hot?"
"Uh-huh." Bo registered the little girl's words but stayed focused on the mother staring right back at him with a frozen smile.
Kirstie hopped to a stop between them. "Want some sunblock? Mama packed it in her bag. SPF 45. That's the best so you don't get skin cancer. My daddy died of cancer, don'tcha know."
Huh? Bo jerked his eyes from Paige and looked down at Kirstie who was already distracted by the MH-53 Pave Low helicopter on display.
Paige's jaw tightened. "She's been told the truth even if she says otherwise. She's coping the best she can."
She set off after her daughter, leaving Bo in their wake. Realization dawned. Even if there wasn't some lurking threat from Kurt Haugen's past dealings, these two ladies might well have problems brewing that he couldn't fix in a few short weeks.
But with Paige's brown eyes planted even more firmly in his conscience, he also now knew he was a hundred percent committed to trying.
Two hours later Paige worked up another smile to cover her jittering heart rate, her facial muscles tuckered out from pretending that this wasn't a bizarre day. She stood silently beside Bo in the late-afternoon sun while Kirstie enjoyed a simulator ride.
Why was he spending so much time with them?
He'd been charming, respectful—and sexy as hell. But he couldn't really want to spend all day with a single mother and her kid. Heaven knew there were plenty of women checking him out with definite interest. Still he kept his attention on Kirstie and her.
Even now he maintained his steady stream of military anecdotes, pointing to a hulking B-52, then to a smaller Canadian CF-18. He shared real life stories she would enjoy rather than only dry technical talk or the printed information on the display stands in front of each craft.
She didn't want him to be likeable. And she definitely didn't want the suspicions crowding her head, but Kurt had broken her ability to trust.
Did Bo suspect she knew something about Kurt's activities? The authorities had cleared her, but that didn't mean the public agreed. She'd lain with a downright dirty dog of a man, therefore she must have fleas.
Kirstie stumbled out of the simulator. She paused long enough to tug her new overlong Thunderbird T-shirt covering her shorts before racing ahead with dizzy steps past a WWII plane. Heading for the inflated kiddie moonwalk, Kirstie zipped past an A-26
Invader's risque nose art of "Miss Murphy"—a woman riding a bomb.
Definitely un-PC, but rife with an implication that upped Paige's jittering pulse. She needed to focus elsewhere, maybe with thoughts of lancing bovine boils.
Instead she kept remembering that her daughter had gone a whole hour without checking herself for hives. "Thank you for making this such a special day for Kirstie."
"My pleasure. You've done a great job with her in spite of everything."
A few yards away, Kirstie plunked down in front of the moonwalk. She kicked off her Strawberry Shortcake tennis shoes, jammed them into an empty cubby and disappeared inside the red, green and blue inflated cavern.
Paige sagged on a nearby bench. Muffled childish squeals echoed happiness through the canvas walls—such a simple sound of joy she no longer took for granted.
Bo hitched a boot up on the edge of the bench, resting his elbow on his knee. "And what about you? Have you enjoyed yourself?"
Too much. She stared at his black leather boot, inches from her hip, suddenly aware of how alone they were in the odd anonymity of faceless people massing and moving. She tore her gaze upward, so far up until she stared into ocean-blue eyes full of concern.