The Soldier's Surprise Family. Jolene Navarro

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СКАЧАТЬ boy might’ve been.” He was so close she could hear his breathing. “Pilar is a baby and, hopefully, won’t have any memory.” Leaning back, he pushed his hair away from his forehead.

      With the folder in hand, she was careful not to look at the bloody photos, instead focusing on the picture of the little girl and her information sheet. “Her name is Pilar Rose. She just turned ten months old.” Making sure to breathe, she reached for the second folder.

      Hand flat on the folder, he spread his long fingers over it as if to protect her from the contents. “I just want to see him.” She held her hand out for the deceptively plain folder Garrett covered. “I’m prepared now. I was caught off guard. Let me see them.”

      Instead of handing over his son’s file, he opened it.

      She kept her gaze on Garrett’s face as he stared at the top photo of the little boy. He blinked several times and his throat worked up and down. Not able to resist, she peeked over his arm and saw a serious little boy with Garrett’s green-gray eyes staring back at them. He was a little darker with a mop of curly hair, but other than that, she was looking at a young version of the man sitting next to her. Garrett pressed his hand over his eyes.

      She moved back, wanting to give him space to collect himself. Two breaths in, one hard breath out. Counting the steady rhythm gave her something to focus on instead of asking questions. He was breathing with his whole body. A broken heart was nothing new to her, but to watch such a controlled man fighting to hold it together made her want to wrap him in her arms.

      The hard muscle along his jaw popped. This time, instead of wanting to scowl at him, she wanted to comfort him. Fisting her hand in her lap to keep from running her fingers along the tense muscle, she fought the urge to sooth him.

      After a long while, he slid his hand down his face and covered his mouth, looking up at the ceiling. She saw moisture on his eyelashes. He handed her the photo, paper-clipped to an information sheet. Scanning the sheet gave her somewhere safe to look. “Garrett River Kincaid Jr. He has your name.”

      “And apparently everything else, too. No DNA test needed. It’s like looking at an old picture of me as a kid.” He stood but didn’t go anywhere. The silence grew tense.

      She didn’t know what to say, so she tossed a few words around. “He has curly hair.” Well, that was a stupid thing to say.

      “I had curly hair as a kid, too. When I went to school, my dad shaved it off so I wouldn’t look like a girl. It came back straighter.” He lifted one hand and ran it through his own thick hair.

      The neat cut was now unruly, but she still couldn’t imagine him with curls. “The kids in my family all start off with ringlets, too, but around five or six they lose them.”

      “I don’t know how to do this, being a father.”

      “We can make it work.” She blurted it out. Thinking of what happened to those two small children, she knew they needed a home full of love and good memories. Tears started burning her eyes. “We have to make this right for them. We have to bring them to a real home.”

      He took his eyes off the bare walls and looked at her. “We?”

      “I won’t let you not let me help.” She hugged the folders.

      The obstinate man lifted an eyebrow at her.

      She gritted her teeth and pressed the folders closer to her chest. With one deep breath, Anjelica looked back at him. “Okay, so I didn’t word that very well, but you get my meaning. They need more than food and a bed to sleep in. They need consistency, a home filled with love, and you need help.”

      “Right now they need a safe place.” He disappeared into the smaller room he was using as an office.

      She hadn’t been up here since he moved into the garage apartment. There was nothing on the walls. The bookshelf remained empty. A brown sofa and a small round table with two chairs had been provided in the rental. He hadn’t added anything of his own, not even a TV. The only personal items were the saxophone cases. Not a single picture of his family or friends.

      Garrett came back into the living area and sat a laptop on the table. “He’s five and she’s ten months old. What am I gonna need? Maybe I should make the smaller room my bedroom and put them in the bigger room.” He looked up at her. “Or does a ten-month-old need to be in a room with an adult...a parent? I work nights sometimes and if there’s an emergency...”

      The color left his face.

      “Garrett, you’ll need someone to watch them when you’re at work.”

      “I’m going to call my mother. If she could move here, that could work. I can sleep on the sofa. I’ve had worse.”

      She had a bad feeling he was going to be stubborn about taking help. “I have some baby stuff. It’s all unused. I have a crib, high chair, changing table, rocker and the smaller stuff like blankets.”

      He rubbed his eyes and stared at the screen.

      “You need some sleep.”

      He checked his watch. “I’m fine.”

      She reached over and pushed the top down on his computer. “Get some sleep. I’ll have the things they need by the time you wake up.”

      She took a deep breath and smiled. Could she do it? Could she hand over all of Esperanza’s furniture? She closed her eyes and felt the peace wash over her. Garrett’s baby girl needed a room full of love, and Esperanza didn’t.

      It was time. She opened her eyes and smiled at Garrett. “God provides.”

      He sighed. “Not sure about God, but I’m not your problem to fix. I do need some sleep, but I don’t have a lot of time to waste to get everything ready for...”

      “You have enough time to sleep. I’m telling you, almost everything you need is close. Okay? When you wake up, come over to the house.”

      Yes, it felt right. Maybe this was why she hadn’t cleaned out her baby girl’s room yet. God knew Garrett would need it.

       Chapter Two

      An explosion rattled the walls. Garrett jerked straight up from sleep. No, not an explosion, just another nightmare. He threw back the heavy blanket and sat on the edge of the bed. Avoiding the frayed braided rug, he made sure to plant his bare feet on the cold tile floor. Taking several deep breaths, he anchored himself in Clear Water, Texas. In the present. Sand blew against the roof. Grinding his back molars, he buried his fingers in his hair. Not sand. Afghanistan belonged in his past. The thin glass in his window shuddered under the force of the violent wind outside.

      The sound that had woken him penetrated the room again. Not in his head, but outside. A hefty storm was making a fuss and building power. Barefoot, he left the bedroom and walked across the apartment. The security light keeping it from being too dark to see. Opening the French doors, he stood at the threshold of the small balcony. Tiny bits of hail had collected on the deck. A few minuscule chunks pelted him. His thin T-shirt offered little protection from their sting.

      He blinked, confused by a cloth flapping in the desert wind, twisting СКАЧАТЬ