Lakeside Hero (Men Of Millbrook Lake Book 1) (3 page)

Alec laughed out loud. “You have a vivid imagination. But you do have a romantic job.”

“And you seem to want to go with the conspiracy-theory thing. What’s involved with running the Caldwell Foundation, anyway?”

He put his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Right now I’m trying to raise money for our Caldwell Canines Service Dog Association. We train and supply rescued dogs as service dogs for disabled veterans.”

“Oh, that’s amazing. I mean really amazing.”

“Hey, that’s my word. Find one of your own.”

“Incredible,” she quickly amended.

“You mean you never would have thought a rich-man type like me had a noble bone in my body?”

“I mean—” She stopped and looked at her shoes. “Yes, that’s exactly what I meant, or maybe thought, but not anymore. I’m not doing very well at this networking thing, am I?”

He laughed and glanced around. “At least you’re honest. That’s refreshing.” He nodded toward the other booths. “I guess I should mingle, huh?”

Marla warred with that notion. “I guess so.” Relaxing a little bit, she glanced around. “Where’s your table?”

He pointed two tables over behind her. “Right there. I’d better go finish setting up. Come over and see me when you have a minute. I have a vet coming with his service dog to show people exactly what we can do.”

“I’ll try,” she replied, hoping she wouldn’t have a minute, hoping she’d stay so busy she’d forget Soldier Boy. She didn’t want to like Alec but something about his shyness and his wit made her want to get to know him. When she watched him walk away, his back straight in spite of that slight limp, Marla felt her heart turn as soft as marshmallow icing.

She could deal with the visible scars, but what if that handsome marine had the kind of scars that only came out when he was in a dark mood? And what if being around her brought out the worst in him, in the same way as it had her late husband?

She couldn’t risk Gabby being scared into even more trauma.

And Gabby would always come before Marla’s love life.

Chapter Three

T
wo hours later, Alec was exhausted but also glad that he’d come to the single-and-social event. He’d handed out a lot of business cards and had fielded a lot of questions about Caldwell Canines. His friend Wilcox had shown up with his service dog—a beautiful Labrador retriever named Rocket—right by his wheelchair. They’d both talked to the people walking around while Rocket stood by and did his job. People asked to pet him and Wilcox let them, but carefully explained how service dogs worked while they got to know Rocket.

“We got some donations, bro,” Wilcox said once the line moved on. “You need to tell them about the school you want to build, too.”

“Working on that,” Alec replied. “Baby steps, Wilcox.”

“I’m too impatient,” his buddy grumbled. “And I’m ready for a good meal.”

“I think it’s about time to eat,” Alec replied, his own stomach grumbling. But he did feel a tremendous satisfaction in seeing Wilcox so content after the turmoil of losing both his legs in battle. Rocket had been a big part of that contentment. The trained dog could fetch anything Wilcox needed, help him remember to take his medication and even alert him and calm him when an attack of posttraumatic stress was about to hit.

Now it was time for dinner and a short devotional.

Preacher walked up and nodded toward Alec while Wilcox trailed behind, still letting people pet Rocket. “I’ve heard only good things about you tonight.” He waved to several others as they headed toward the food line. “You’re using your resources to help others in need.”

Alec glanced back at Wilcox. “Did you see the way Rocket protects him when anyone gets too close? He can bring Wilcox just about anything from a soda to his medicine. I want that for any veteran who needs it.”

Preacher grinned and looked like a fresh-faced kid again. “Now you see what this networking stuff is all about. Like leading troops, but into a very different battle.”

“I sure understand that,” Alec replied. “Just hope I can keep fighting for the veterans who can’t fight for themselves.”

When Preacher got called away, he turned to search for Marla. She’d been pretty busy all night, too. Her display table was almost bare, and Alec didn’t see her. Maybe she’d taken some empty trays out to her car.

“This was kind of fun,” he said to Preacher when he returned. “Hey, where’d you find all these single people, anyway?”

“They’re not all single.” Preacher chuckled but his smile was triumphant. “But I did invite a lot of
available
people from other gatherings—the baseball park, the grocery store, the soup kitchen. I talk a lot, and single people volunteer a lot.”

Alec shook his head. Rory Sanderson had his dream job. He’d seen death and war, but he’d always kept a positive, faithful attitude.

Alec wasn’t so sure about himself however. “Does that make us generous or pathetic?”

Rory frowned. “Hey—nothing pathetic in lending a helping hand. But from what I’ve seen, when people are on their own too much they get lonely sometimes. It helps to find other people and do something good to contribute to the world around you.”

“I guess I can’t argue with that,” Alec said. “I like volunteering, but I really need to focus on the foundation.” At the look in Rory’s eyes, Alec held up his hand. “I’m not saying I won’t try to get out more, but I have to hit my stride, so to speak.”

Preacher glanced toward Marla’s table. “You might check with Marla about trying to hit that stride. She’s always looking for help around her bakery, especially delivery-truck drivers.” He crossed his arms over his chest and did that calm-and-relaxed thing Alec wished he could mimic. “You might have to get a special driver’s license to make deliveries, but that’s easy enough to do. And if you volunteer, you’ll be helping her without making it look like charity.”

Alec glanced heavenward. Was God trying to tell him something? Or was his friend trying to force him into something Alec wasn’t ready for yet? “I’d have to think about that, Preacher.”

Preacher caught on to his hesitation. “Your therapy seems to be working. The limp is less noticeable these days. The scar is improving every day, too.”

“Yeah, the Florida sun makes the scar more pronounced but also helps it to heal, as long as I wear sunscreen,” Alec replied, his hand automatically moving down the jagged edges of his wound. “I only remember it when I smile.”

Rory punched him on the arm. “If you smile more often, you’ll forget it’s even there.”

Alec doubted he’d ever forget this scar. Shrapnel right in the side of his face. He could still remember the intense, searing pain before he’d blacked out. His broken leg was healing but he’d always have this facial scar.

“Just smile,” Preacher said. “I find a smile can put anyone at ease.”

“I’ll remember that, sunshine,” Alec quipped. “Thanks, though, for being my spiritual advisor.” They walked up to the buffet table. “I’m sorry I haven’t been attending services much. I’ve been on the road a lot and I’m playing catch-up with all the board members and the foundation. I think it’s called putting out fires.”

Preacher waved to some people up ahead. “I know where your heart is, Alec. God does, too. Fellowship can help, but only if you’re willing to let it help.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Alec asked, wishing Preacher wouldn’t do so much preaching right now.

Oblivious to Alec’s discomfort, Rory glanced toward Marla. “Listen, I saw you talking to Marla earlier after I sent you in with her trays, so I guess you two hit it off okay.”

Alec didn’t lie. “Yeah, we actually met briefly this weekend at the Alvanetti estate. She baked the wedding cake.”

“Oh, yes, I forgot she baked the cake for the big wedding out there.” Rory shrugged. “They used another minister for the wedding, but I’m cool with that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “So...you met Marla—something you neglected to tell us at the pizza place.”

“I purposely didn’t mention her the other night. Didn’t want to be grilled about it.”

“Like I’m doing right now,” Preacher said with a nod. “Okay, I’ll back off. Anyway, since you two know each other already, would you mind sitting with her at dinner? She’s kind of new to the church and...she’s had it rough lately.”

“How’s that?” Alec asked, glancing over at Marla. She looked cute with her wheat-and-strawberry-colored hair up in a haphazard ponytail, and she seemed content in her own skin. But she did appear a bit standoffish and shy when her green-eyed gaze stared at the floor, instead of at him. Was she fighting her own battle?

“Not for me to tell,” Preacher replied. “But she could use a friend.”

“Are you setting me up?” Alec asked, resentment warring with gratitude in his mind. He didn’t have time to explore a new relationship. Wasn’t even sure he wanted to be in any sort of dating situation. So why was his best friend keeping after him? “You invited me here for more than just networking, didn’t you?”

Preacher made a face and then lifted his hands, palms up. “Me? Never.”

Alec wondered about that, but he couldn’t turn down the request to sit with Marla at dinner. That would be rude—and besides, he did like Marla, whether she liked him back or not. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but...it was just a few minutes eating a meal in a crowded room. Maybe if he sat with his scar away from her, she’d be more relaxed around him.

Taking a small leap of faith and sending a prayer after it, Alec excused himself from the food line and strolled over to where Marla stood tidying her table. He’d keep things light and friendly in spite of the unfamiliar sensations tickling at his consciousness. No use in scaring her away, since nothing could come of this anyway.

“Hi,” he said, his gaze moving over her cute blue button-up sweater and floral skirt. “How’d it go over here?”

“Good,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I think I drummed up some new clients. A wedding cake, a birthday party and an order of cupcakes and cookies for an entire kindergarten class. Plus, dessert for the Rotary Club meeting next week.”

He liked seeing her smile. “Your treats will draw in a lot of people. I had a great night, too. I’ll tell you all about it if you’ll sit with me at dinner.”

* * *

Marla looked around and then lifted her gaze to Alec. Did she want to eat dinner with him? Or did she want to bolt out the door? She glanced at the door and the buffet line before lifting her chin toward him.

Looking defeated, he gave her an out. “If you’d rather not, I understand.”

She noticed the disappointment in his eyes, so she made her decision. She wouldn’t be rude or give him the wrong idea, no matter what negative words came out of her mouth. No matter how her breath seemed to catch in her throat every time she was around him. “I’d be happy to eat dinner with you.”

“Good,” he said with what sounded like relief. “I don’t know a lot of people here, since I... I’ve kind of fallen back on coming to church.”

“Why?” she asked while they walked toward the serving line.

The scents of chicken spaghetti and garlic bread made her mouth water while the nearness of Alec Caldwell made her heart go a little crazy. Which
was
crazy. She didn’t react this way to men. She tried
not
to react to men.

“I shouldn’t have asked that,” she said, a hand going over her mouth. “I need to think before I speak.”

He guided her into the line, his hand on her elbow. “I don’t have any good excuses.” He leaned close. “Except the obvious one. Sometimes, I scare little girls.”

She glanced at his scar, her mind on Gabby. Would he scare her daughter? To keep things light, she asked, “Do you also scare big girls?”

His tiger eyes held hers. “Are you scared of me?”

Marla wanted to look away but not for the reason he’d stated. And besides, she gathered that question was a test. So she gave him a direct, sure glance. “No. I mean, that scar doesn’t bother me. But...where you’ve been does.”

“What do you mean?”

“War. Battle. Hidden scars. All the traits of a gung-ho man. Those things scare me.”

He looked confused and shocked. “Wow. Tell me how you really feel.”

“I like being direct and honest,” she replied, her hand on the food spatula. Her appetite was suddenly gone. Since she didn’t expect him to hang around too long anyway, she gave it her all. “I...was married to a real thrill seeker.”

“You were married?”

Now it was her turn to be shocked and confused. “Yes. It happens.”

He looked embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to pry, but I’m not
that kind of man
. I mean, not the kind who pries and certainly not a thrill seeker. I was a good marine and I wanted to serve my country. Now I want to settle down and have a nice quiet life. No war, no battles, no underlying scars or regrets.” He stopped in the line. “Wait, since we’re being honest, I do have some regrets. But we don’t have to go into that tonight.”

Marla took the salad a volunteer handed her and found a table. She’d brought enough cupcakes to put one at every place setting—her contribution to the meal. She sank down and wished she’d kept her issues to herself. She was the scary one—blurting out the wrong things to a man she’d known for about five minutes. She was so not ready to date again.

After Alec slipped into a chair beside her, she turned to him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t let my preconceived notions affect getting to know you. I’m sure you’re a very nice person.”

“Ouch,” he said on a wry smile. “A very nice person is usually a person about to get the brush-off.”

She should brush him off. She should get up and run screaming toward the door. But honestly, she couldn’t see this man going off on her in a rage of anger or putting his fist through a wall to make a point. She couldn’t picture Alec Caldwell falling in with a bad crowd just to make himself feel better, either. He was a friend of Rory Sanderson, and that alone was the best endorsement she could want.

“I’m only being cautious,” she finally said, a fork in her hand. “My husband and I had a volatile relationship. I can’t put my daughter through that again.”

“You have a daughter?”

Marla cringed and wondered why she’d bothered. Why was she telling Alec all the intimate details of her life? He probably didn’t
really
want to settle down, and she surely didn’t want to give him the impression that she was fishing for that very thing. She already had a bad history with men and she had a child, too. That child would always come first. Besides, he probably had some snobbish socialite to keep him company all the time.

She was used to seeing somewhat-interested men turn and walk away at this point, but Marla didn’t want to put Alec in that category.

She reminded herself again that this was just dinner at a church function, not a first date. She could be honest with Alec and get it all out there, since nothing would come of this once they walked out the door.

“Yes, I have a child,” she finally said. “Gabby. She’s four years old and...special. My parents take care of her when I’m working or out doing things like this.”

He took a quick sip of his tea and glanced back over at her. “If she’s as cute as you, I’d like to meet her.”

Marla almost choked on her chicken spaghetti. “What?”

“Don’t look so surprised, Cupcake Girl. I like children. I actually used to be one.”

Marla’s shock turned to admiration. Alec made her laugh. That was certainly new and refreshing. But she couldn’t let him near Gabby. So she pretended in order to hide the
clop, clop
of her beating heart. “I’m thinking you might still be one, at that.”

He smiled and winked at her. “Want me to show you my spaghetti face?”

He moved to go for a handful of spaghetti, but she stopped him by grapping his wrist. “Don’t you dare. I believe you.”

But she couldn’t believe he wanted to meet Gabby. He was obviously just being polite. Her daughter was adorable and well-loved, so Marla could handle most men walking away, but she wasn’t ready to subject Gabby to anything too sudden, either.

While hearing this from Alec made her want to grab him and hug him, she had to push away that notion for Gabby’s sake. Her daughter was still too fragile for a new man in her mother’s life. Or in her life.