Deadly Silence. Lindsay McKenna
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had a roommate. I think it’s going to be nice to share with a sister. I don’t usually share much about myself. We had the elephant of abuse in our family’s living room and I never told anyone at school what was going on. I was so afraid.” Cat reached over and touched Casey’s arm for a moment. “So, if I’m being too talkative and sharing, rein me in, okay? I’m not good at this sharing stuff.” She chortled.
Smiling gently at her roommate, Casey realized how fortunate she’d been to grow up in a safe, loving family. She had four sisters who loved her. “I’m pretty good at chatting myself, so I think we’ll get along fine, Cat.” She saw the woman look a little more relaxed over that admission.
“Great, I think we’re a good pair to be sharing this condo,” Cat said, meaning it. “I know my social graces aren’t the best. I trust women. They aren’t my problem. It’s the men.”
Casey nodded and loaded her spoon with spaghetti. “We share a lot in common, Cat. I think we’re going to get along just fine.”
“Sisters in the battle of life,” Cat said, grinning widely.
Indeed, Casey thought. Right now she had a couple of battles she’d never envisioned: Megan’s unexpected affection and being drawn to Megan’s father, Matt Sinclaire. Casey knew she couldn’t separate one from another. There was a driving force in her to help the eight-year-old. Megan didn’t know it, but they shared much more in common than anyone would ever know.
CHAPTER FIVE
MATT TRIED TO CONTAIN his excitement as he walked from the parking lot toward the beautifully constructed visitor’s center just inside the gates of the Grand Teton National Park. Behind him rose the majestic and snow-covered Tetons. Thrusting his hands in the pockets of his red nylon fire department jacket, he hurried down the sidewalk.
It was 10:00 a.m. and so much had happened since Megan had seen the hawk and owl in her class. Hope warred with terror within him. Matt struggled to keep all his emotions in check. He’d found out from Charley, the chief ranger, that Casey would be on duty at the visitor’s center all day. Her job was to answer people’s questions. Should he have called Casey first? Something told him to show up in person. How would she take what he had to say? Would she see him as pressuring her to help his daughter? Was she at all interested in helping? Matt knew she was a stranger who had plummeted into their life out of the blue. He knew he had no right to expect anything from Casey.
Yet, as he pulled opened the glass door that led into the huge, airy center, his intuition told him Casey was a compassionate person and cared deeply for others. Would she care about the news he had?
Because he was a firefighter, Matt had been to the visitor’s center many times. If there was ever a fire here, he had to know the entrance and exit points. He had to be aware of everything so that a team sent into this place would be made aware of the structure and its inherent challenges. Charley had said Casey would be at the map desk. Not that many visitors in late April were interested in hiking trails still covered with anywhere between two and ten feet of snow. Still, a hardy few were up for cross-country skiing on these mountain trails.
He spotted Casey talking to a male visitor over a map. He slowed his pace. The center was pretty deserted at this time of the morning. Over in the gift shop he spotted Cindy McLaughlin. She smiled and waved to Matt. He returned her smile and lifted his hand. Cindy had lost her husband, Steve, to prostate cancer a year ago. Their two children were in college. She managed the gift-shop concession for the company who had won the bid to run it. The black-haired, brown-eyed woman always had a smile for everyone, despite her personal tragedy. Matt knew she wasn’t making enough money to keep her two children in college.
Steve had been a civil engineer with a local company. He’d made very good money. Now, Cindy was losing her financial base. Matt felt bad for her. He turned away and saw that Casey had just handed the young man a map. Good, she was no longer busy. Taking a deep breath, Matt headed in her direction.
Casey felt her heart bang once to underscore the surprise of seeing ruggedly handsome Matt Sinclaire walking toward her. He wore a bright red jacket, his hands stuffed into the pockets. A pair of jeans on him made her appreciate how tall and in shape he was. It was the narrowed look in his forest-green eyes that made her mouth go dry. Casey had the distinct feeling he was like a wolf on the prowl. His black hair was short but a few rebellious strands dipped across his furrowed brow. No woman in her right mind wouldn’t be drawn to this heroic man, Casey told herself. She saw all men and women in the businesses of law enforcement and firefighting as bona fide modern-day heroes. Matt Sinclaire embodied that concept in warm flesh and blood.
“Good morning,” Matt greeted as he came up to the desk. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping by unexpectedly? I have some news about Megan that I’d like to share with you.”
Relief shot through Casey. This was about Megan. For a moment her silly mind had fantasized that Matt was here for her. It had been almost a week since she’d seen him. Her dreams, for once, had taken a pleasant turn and she’d dreamed of him and of kissing him. Feeling heat tunnel up her neck and into her cheeks, Casey grabbed the stool and sat down opposite him. “Of course not.” She gave him a wry smile as he folded his large hands on the counter in front of her. “As you can see, we’re not exactly busy.”
Dipping his head, Matt drowned in her warm gray eyes. Casey’s ranger uniform was spotless and ironed, and she looked sharp in the long-sleeved tan blouse and dark green trousers. The mannish clothes couldn’t hide her femininity from him, however. She was tall and curvy. Most of all, he liked the softness of her lips as they pulled into a self-deprecating smile. “Thanks, I really appreciate you giving me a few minutes of your time.” He cleared his throat, nervous.
“I talked to Meggie’s psychiatrist over in Idaho Falls earlier this week,” he confided to her in a low voice. “And she, like me, felt Meggie was having a breakthrough.”
“Wonderful,” Casey said. She saw the anxious look in his eyes although it wasn’t broadcast in his low, husky tone. Inhaling, she smelled the cold air and scent of pine around Matt. He was clean-shaven, no trace of a dark beard. There was a white T-shirt beneath his jacket. Black hair peeked out from beneath it. He was so male that it made her dizzy for a moment. Never had Casey had such a powerful response to any man! It scared her silly.
Opening his hands, Matt rasped, “Here’s what you might possibly do to help Megan.” He didn’t say, “help me,” but that was implicit.
“Sure, what can I do to help her?” Casey saw Matt’s eyes were fraught with so many emotions it was impossible to accurately read them. She understood how much he loved his daughter and how guilt hounded him, much as the PTSD stalked her daily from her own near-death experience.
Relieved, Matt saw sincerity in Casey’s large, intelligent gray eyes. It gave him the courage to speak. “Barbara, Meggie’s therapist, feels strongly that for whatever reasons, the owl experience and you, as a woman, have opened some doors that have been closed in my daughter since that night she lost her mother.”
How badly Casey wanted to reach out and touch Matt’s hand. She saw the white lines of many scars upon them. Had he gotten all of them firefighting? She knew it was always dangerous work. “What else?” Casey probed gently. There was such hesitation in Matt’s face at that moment, as if he were unsure he should say the rest of what the therapist told him.
“Barbara Ward is a fine therapist. Megan bonded with her as much as she can.” He moved his shoulders as if to get rid of the accumulated, invisible weight he carried. “I always hoped Meggie would bond more deeply with Barbara and open up, but she didn’t. Barbara said that my daughter running into your arms to be held was an incredibly positive breakthrough.” Matt’s voice cracked. “She said that finally Meggie is starting to move out of the paralyzing PTSD. She’s reaching out to you, Casey.” He stared hard into her widening eyes. Praying that she would not rebuff his daughter’s chances for help, he added quickly, “And she feels that some kind of weekly contact with Meggie would be very, very helpful to her.”
Shocked, Casey