A Mom for Callie by Laura Bradford

subconscious.
    â€œH-hi,” she stammered as Callie ran down the steps and wrapped her arms around her father’s legs.
    Pausing midstep to greet his daughter, he lifted Callie off the ground and spun her around before setting her back down with a kiss on her forehead. “So how’s my girl this afternoon? How was school?”
    â€œIt was great, Daddy. We’re making a surprise in art class.”
    â€œA surprise? Hmm, should I guess?” he asked with a teasing lilt as he peered over Callie’s head and winked at Betsy.
    â€œNo! Surprises aren’t meant for knowing.” Callie rested her hands on her hips and leveled a look of distaste at her father. “Trying to guess is like cheating. You know that, Daddy.”
    She knew she should say something, anything to acknowledge the curious way in which Kyle peered at her in between bantering with Callie, but she couldn’t. There was simply nothing in her thoughts except memories—painful, time-stopping memories.
    â€œWhy don’t you go tell Grandma I’m home and thatI’ll be inside in just a minute.” Kyle kissed his daughter on the head once again.
    â€œBut Miss Anderson is ordering cookies.”
    Betsy looked down at the order form now wrinkled inside her hand, Kyle’s response breaking through the white noise in her head. “Go on and tell Grandma and then you can come back over and get your form.”
    â€œOkay.” The child scampered across the yard and up the driveway, her white-and-pink sneakers smacking softly against the asphalt. “I’ll be right back!”
    â€œWe’ll be here.” Kyle turned his attention from a retreating Callie to Betsy and smiled, his long legs making short work of the distance between them. “I wanted a chance to talk to you alone…if you hadn’t already figured that out.”
    Betsy stood rooted to the front porch. “Is there something wrong?”
    â€œI can’t really discuss it too much at the moment, but I can say that we think your observation about the perp from the bank is right on the money.”
    â€œMy observation?”
    He nodded. “Yeah, about his on-camera actions seeming quite deliberate. Looks as if we’ve got far more on our hands than a thwarted bank robbery.”
    The sound of metal smacking against wood echoed across the yard signaling Callie’s impending return.
    â€œIs it bad?” she asked.
    Kyle shrugged. “Yeah, it could be. But—” he gestured toward his daughter “—I don’t want to talk about it in front of her. I don’t want to scare her.”
    She managed what she hoped was a nod in the absence of words but it was an effort of mammoth proportions.
    He looked at her strangely. “You okay?”
    Again she nodded.
    Glancing over his shoulder at his daughter, who’d stopped to pick a flower from the front landscaping, he looked back at Betsy, his voice softening. “I was thinking about you today. Specifically about what happened in the car last night. And I was wondering if maybe you’d like to catch a movie tonight?”
    He stepped closer and onto the porch, his various police insignia and medals gleaming in the sun.
    â€œI—I—” She stopped, swallowed and tried again, the thudding in her chest nearly drowning out the sound of her own voice. “I can’t. I have to write.”
    She felt his eyes studying her and she looked away.
    â€œOkay, then how about another night? Maybe tomorrow or sometime over the weekend? Would that work?”
    Betsy shook her head, the barrage of sensations and memories jelling with a reality she couldn’t deny. Kyle Brennan was, by all appearances, a nice guy and a good father. For anyone else, he’d be worth pursuing. But not for her.
    She couldn’t do it. She simply couldn’t do it again. Small town cop or not, his profession came with danger….
    â€œI’ll be