Authors: Lindsay McKenna
“A seventy-eight! My God, that’s ridiculous!” Jason jumped to his feet. “That will put you in seventh! What the hell are you doing over there? Screwing around? Going on dates instead of studying?”
Before Molly could answer, the doorbell rang. Nonplussed, she froze. Her father glared at the door and then at her.
“I suppose that’s your date coming to pick you up for a Friday-night dinner?” he snarled.
Shakily, Molly got to her feet. “Father, you’re way out of line. I don’t know who’s at the door. I don’t have a boyfriend, nor do I have a date!”
Molly moved to the door, numb with misery and trembling with anger. She jerked the door open. Her eyes widened. “Cam!”
Cam stood in civilian clothes—a plain white short-sleeved shirt and jeans. His hands were crammed into his pockets. “Hi…I thought you could use some company after what happened this afternoon.” Cam saw how intensely pale Molly was. When she turned and looked over her shoulder, he realized she was literally shaking. “Molly? What’s wrong?” He pulled his hands out of his pockets and took a step forward, his hand resting against the door.
“I…uh…my father just flew in to see me,” she stammered, stepping aside to allow Cam to enter.
“No date?” Jason demanded coldly, moving to the foyer.
Cam scowled, instinctively moving between Molly and the older man. It didn’t take much to realize they’d been fighting. Grimly, Cam faced Jason Rutledge. “You must be Molly’s father. I’m Captain Cameron Sinclair, a flight instructor at the Patuxent River test-pilot school.”
Rutledge stared at the hand he was offered. “No doubt Molly’s date for tonight,” he growled, taking a step back and refusing to shake hands.
“Father, that’s—”
“Hold it, Molly,” Cam whispered, keeping her behind him. “Mr. Rutledge, you’re obviously upset about something, but I came over here to speak to your daughter about her flight test today. She flew a good program and defended it in debrief. Unfortunately, her instructor chose to be swayed by one of my students who flew the test with her. I’m not here as her date. I’m here to tell her that the pilot got a sixty-five-percent grade for his antics in that debrief. He failed. She didn’t.”
The absolute chill of Cam’s voice sent shivers down Molly’s spine. For the first time in her life she felt protected. She stood behind Cam, who faced her father as if it were the easiest thing in the world to do. Molly looked from one man to the other. Her father’s face grew red with fury.
“It’s awfully good of you to tell me that, Captain. But she got a seventy-eight.”
“So?” Cam challenged darkly.
“So it will drag her down to seventh place.”
“No, it won’t. It doesn’t alter her standing.”
“Captain Sinclair, you’re well known to me. You’ve helped Molly before. And judging from her performance, your interest in her isn’t to help her grades!”
“Father!” Molly cried, moving between them. “That’s enough! Cam
has
helped me get better grades!”
Jason glared at both of them. “Molly, you always were naive…. You’d better look in this young man’s eyes again. What I see in them isn’t an instructor’s concern for you—it’s a man protecting his woman.”
Cam saw Molly’s face crumple with such injury at the cruel words that he could no longer remain silent. Gently he pulled Molly away from her father.
“Mr. Rutledge, you’ve pushed beyond the envelope on this issue,” he rasped in a low, controlled voice. “Molly has studied twelve to sixteen hours a day, nonstop, since she’s been here. She has no boyfriend, she has no social life, and all she gets for her hard work and care is a bunch of sniping, bitching and destructive phone calls from you and your son. If you want to help Molly, you’ll build her up instead of continuing to tear her down.”
Jason’s eyes narrowed in fury. “Just who the hell do you think you are, telling me how to handle my own daughter?”
“Molly isn’t a little girl anymore. She’s a woman! You don’t ‘handle’ a woman, Mr. Rutledge. She’s an adult and deserves to be treated as such. I believe in her, Mr. Rutledge. I’ve watched Molly battle her way from last on the roster to sixth place. My money’s on her to make the grade.” Cam stepped forward, threatening. “But if you keep lunging at her, tearing her apart, upsetting her with those lousy phone calls and letters, she won’t make it. I really think you want her to fail, not succeed.”
Rattled, Jason took a step back. “I’ve always been on Molly’s side! You young whelp, you have no idea of the pressures on me to make something successful out of Molly!”
“Molly isn’t to be ‘made’ into anything! I don’t give a flying damn about your problems, Rutledge. Don’t you care what happens to her?” Cam’s lips drew away from his teeth as the words hissed between them. “I’m not convinced you want Molly to win. The way you talk to her, cutting her down every chance you get, is that positive? Any football coach will tell you he gets more out of a kid by being supportive than by pointing out the negatives. Are you one of those men who’s been trained to believe that only a man can succeed—that woman are weak and useless?”
Molly sobbed and grabbed Cam by the arm. “Stop it! Both of you, stop it! I won’t have you fighting. I can’t stand it!”
Cam gripped Molly by the shoulder, keeping her well away from her infuriated father. “I’m sorry, Molly, but this has been a long time in coming. Rutledge, leave your daughter alone. If you can’t help her feel good about herself, whether she fails or succeeds, then leave her alone.”
With a curse, Jason turned on his heel and stalked back to the living room.
“Father!” Molly ran after him. She pulled him to a stop just as he leaned down to pick up his briefcase. “Please, don’t go. Let’s talk this out. I know we can—”
He jerked his arm away from her. “Get away from me, Molly. It’s obvious to me whose side you’re on. You’re just like your mother used to be. She was just as hardheaded and stubborn as you are, refusing to listen to me. All right, if you want to be left alone, we’ll leave you alone! From here on out, I’m cutting off your allowance. There won’t be any more phone calls. I’ll order Scott to stop writing to you.” He stood in the foyer, his head held high, looking at Molly and Cam imperiously.
“Don’t cut me off from Scott,” Molly begged, choking back the tears. “Cam’s right. If you could just be more supportive of me, see what I’ve done well in the week, instead of what I’ve failed to do, it would help. Please, try to understand.”
Cam stood aside, opening the door. He was proud of Molly for standing up to her father. He saw anguish in Molly’s face, the tears reflecting hurt in her beautiful green eyes. It took everything in him not to reach out and grab Rutledge by the collar and shake some sense into him. He knew exactly what her father was doing to Molly, manipulating her vulnerable emotions.
“There’s nothing to understand,” Jason told Molly in a rasp, heading for the open door.
“Don’t go!” Molly cried. “Please, Father, let’s talk—”
Rutledge jerked his head over his shoulder and hesitated at the door. “I’m disowning you, Molly. I’m writing you out of my will. No daughter of mine would behave as you have. I’m ashamed of you.”
“Get the hell out of here,” Cam said.
“With pleasure.”
“No!” Molly sobbed. “No…”
Cam caught her before she could go after her father. He shut the door with his foot and drew her deep into his arms. Sweet God, but she was shaking like a leaf. “It’s okay, angel. He doesn’t mean it.” Cam stroked her tangled hair and felt Molly sink against him, her sobs muffled against his chest.
Damn Rutledge! Molly’s weeping was tearing him apart. In one motion, Cam picked her up. He carried her into the living room and deposited her on the sofa next to him, then drew her back into his arms. The evening light filled the room, as did Molly’s pain, expressed in the sound of inconsolable weeping. Her tears soaked Cam’s shirtfront.
Cam shut his eyes tightly, holding Molly against him, rocking her and whispering words he hoped would take away the pain her father had inflicted on her. She’d had a rotten week and a worse day. To have Rutledge here tearing her apart was more than any human being could expect to stand.
“Shh, angel, it’s going to be all right. I’m here. I’ll take care of you. Just cry and get it out of your system….” How good it felt to have someone he loved in his arms again! How good it felt to be needed! Opening his eyes, Cam realized he’d just admitted to himself that he loved Molly. With a groan, he laid his head back on the couch, absently stroking Molly’s back and shoulders to soothe her. When had it happened? How?
Ever since he’d met Molly, he’d been powerfully attracted to her. And she invited his protection not by acting weak or playing coy, but by exposing a vulnerability that few people had the courage to wear outwardly.
Without thinking, Cam pressed a kiss to her fragrant hair. The silky texture beneath his lips goaded him to kiss her again. This time, his lips touched her wet cheek, and he became lost in the feel of her velvet firmness, of her slender warmth pressed against him. Sliding his fingers up along her clean jawline, he eased Molly back into his arms and tilted her chin upward until his mouth fitted perfectly against hers. He felt her tremble once, tense, and then, as he moved his mouth slowly across the wet surface of her lips, she sank into his offered embrace.
The world of pain and anguish Molly was experiencing was soothed by Cam’s mouth fitting gently against her own. The sob caught in her throat turned into a moan of pleasure, not of pain. Her hand had moved away from his chest when he’d first touched her lips. Now her fingers flexed, relaxed and then flowed around Cam’s shoulder, buried in the thick hair at the base of his neck. She tasted the salt of her tears and tasted the strength and gentleness of Cam—as a man, an equal.
Gradually, ever so gradually, he eased his mouth from her lips. Molly lifted her tear-beaded lashes. Cam’s eyes burned with a fever that sent her blood flowing hot with need of him. Her emotions were on overload, and all she could do was stare up at him. Molly remembered her father’s blistering words that Cam was more than just an instructor, that he wanted her for his own. The turbulence in his stormy blue eyes confirmed that observation, and more. In that moment, Molly realized just how much Cam had hidden from her until now.
Cam saw Molly’s eyes, once dazed with pleasure, turn anxious. He cursed himself for letting down his guard and allowing the situation to force his hand, showing his real feelings for her. It was the wrong place and time. He managed a slight smile and asked, “Where do you keep the Kleenex?”
Molly sniffed. Cam’s shirt was blotched with her tears, and so was her blouse. “I’ll go get some,” she whispered.
“No, stay put,” he ordered. “For once, let someone take care of you.”
Molly hung her head, tears welling up in her eyes once again. “There’s a box in the kitchen,” she croaked.
Cam got up and located it. He also found a bottle of brandy and poured her some. When he came back he found Molly sitting hunched over, her face buried in her hands. Sitting down next to her, he put a couple of tissues in one of her hands and the shot of brandy in the other.
“A very beautiful and compassionate young lady once gave me some brandy when I was having a rotten night. Go on, drink it. She told me her grandma always said it helped in a crisis.”
Molly lifted her chin and looked at Cam through her tears. “Did anybody ever tell you you’ve a pretty good shoulder to cry on, too?”
His mouth curved gently. Cam reached over and drew her hair aside and placed it behind her ear. “I’ve had some experience down that road once or twice. Go on. Drink the brandy, angel.” Cam cringed inwardly. How easy it was to call her “angel,” because she was one in his eyes. A battered angel in need of a little care and love.
Just the tenderness in Cam’s voice and touch healed some of the pain Molly was undergoing. She gulped down the brandy, then choked and coughed. Cam took the glass out of her hand and patted her on the back.
“Your granny made some powerful stuff,” Cam said, grinning.
When she’d finished coughing, Molly managed a short laugh. She blew her nose and wiped her eyes free of the tears. Sitting in the silence, she whispered, “Thanks for staying. You didn’t have to.” Swallowing hard, she added, “And thanks for coming to my rescue. I’ve tried standing up to Father before, but I always let myself get beaten down.”
“That’s because you love him,” Cam explained. “It’s hard to stand up to a parent who doesn’t respect you.”
Pain flowed through Molly, and she touched the region of her heart with her fingertips. “I couldn’t believe what you said to him.”
“It was all true, Molly. Since you’ve started sharing the phone calls and Scott’s letters with me, it’s been easy to put together what he’s doing to you.”
Cam rubbed her slumped shoulder. “I owe you an apology, Molly. I didn’t mean to step in and take on your father, but dammit, he was chewing you up. I couldn’t allow it to happen. You did nothing to deserve it. I figured you’d told him about your grade. I was hoping that when he found out that I failed Martin on the test and you hadn’t lost your standing, he’d cool down, but he didn’t. Your father wasn’t really interested in the truth.”
Molly nodded, gripping the Kleenex between her hands. “If Maggie were here, she’d be cheering you on or jumping in with both feet to help. She’s never liked my father.”
“I can see why.”
“Dana didn’t, either.”
“Your friends were good barometers of the situation,” Cam said quietly. “They love you and didn’t want to see you get hurt. Neither do I.”
Because I love you, too.
“Why did he do that, Cam? Why did Father disown me?” Molly kept picking at the tissue until it was in shreds in her fingers. Her voice grew strained. “I try so hard to please him, to please Scott. God, the last thing I expected was to see him here tonight. Father’s never done this before. I was so shaken up at seeing him at the front door.”
With a sigh, Cam took the shredded tissue from her hands and gave her a new one. “Your father has abused the privilege of your love for him, Molly. Look, he’s got a lot of guilt driving him.”