He should not be here.

The phrase ran on a continuous loop through Haustin's shell-shocked mind as he followed Yael into her grandmother's house. Scratch that. Damn thing wasn't a house, more like a mansion, and he was far from ready to meet Miriam Malkah. Dealing with Yael's heritage was one thing. She didn't act like the snob he initially thought she'd be. He imagined this woman would be a different story entirely and buried the urge to snarl.

They'd gone to a barbecue joint for dinner and, on the way home, Yael remembered she needed an old file from her dad's office. The entire thing was innocent. He didn't doubt her intentions, but he might have been a little more relaxed if there'd been time to prepare. He still wore his ratty FDNY t-shirt, for God's sake. Not quite how he expected to meet the elegant matriarch of Yael's family. Sweet Jesus, he certainly couldn't count on his winning personality. His mouth filled with cotton and, for the first time in twenty-four hours, he craved a pill—or four.

He was screwed.

A gray-haired woman greeted them. "Yael, what a surprise. Miriam is finished eating if you're here to visit."

"I don't want to bother her if she's too tired. I'm only here up a couple files of Dad's."

"She's never too tired for you," the woman replied before shifting her attention to Haustin, making note of his shirt. "Or a handsome visitor. Welcome, and thank you for all you do for this city."

"Thanks," he said, clearing his throat. "Just doing my job."

Yael glanced at him. "What do you think? Don't feel pressured. I know this is a surprise and I totally get it if you would rather wait for another time," she rambled.

Regardless of the words, he read the longing in her expression and saw how much it meant to her. He hated to let her down, so he figured he might as well get it over with, knowing her time with Miriam was limited. She met his kids, only fair he returned the favor.

"If she's up to having a grubby stranger in her room, I don't mind. I'd like to see where your fire comes from." The calmness in his voice surprised him, especially since his insides were twisted into a hundred giant knots.

She flashed a breathtaking smile, and his heart responded with a thud. "Let me ask her." Yael jumped forward and pressed her lips to his. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Haustin watched her bound down the hall and laced his fingers behind his head. This was her only remaining family, he told himself. He sure as hell didn't want to make a fool of himself, or worse, embarrass her. Christ, he was too old for this shit. He thought he'd moved past awkward first meetings with parents or grandparents. It'd been almost two decades since he met Lindsey's family, and even then it hadn't gone well. He ended up insulting her father and her uncle, knocking a bowl of punch onto beige carpets and stepping on the beloved dog's tail, all in the course of a single afternoon. How he moved past that, he'd never know. Of course, now they all hated his guts.

"What have I gotten myself into?" he muttered.

"Miriam's not as scary as you might think." He flinched, forgetting the nurse had stayed behind. "Her bark is worse than her bite."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks. I should have dressed better," he added as an afterthought.

"Oh, don't worry. You look like a hero." She winked.

Yael returned and, judging from her expression, Miriam must have agreed to meet him. He squared his shoulders and drew a deep breath as she reached over and squeezed his fingers.

"Thank you."

He nodded distractedly, and she led him into a large room littered with medical equipment. There wasn't a chance to brace himself. Too soon, he stared at a wisp of a woman with dry, brittle skin. She remained elegant, though, exactly the way he'd pictured her. Amid losing a battle with cancer her hair was styled, and she wore an expensive-looking nightgown of silk with intricate lace detail around the neck, as if she refused to give in to the inevitable. He had to admire her tenacity. Being stubborn in the face of death was a trait he respected and related to. In fact, it reminded him of Yael and his chokehold of self-doubt loosened the tiniest bit.

"Miriam, this is Haustin."

The woman's attention locked onto him like a missile, her gaze honing in, taking a peek inside his soul, and he doubted she missed anything. Feeling too clumsy and big for the room, he gently shook her offered hand, which was fragile and light as a feather.

"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am, call me Miriam. I'm dying, but I'm not old." A raspy laugh escaped her lips, morphing into a cough. "Heard a lot about you."

He couldn't decipher the matter-of-fact way she spoke, it gave nothing away as to her impression of him. Yael perched on the chair next to the bed, but he remained standing, digging into his days at the academy and holding his spine straight. Miriam's stare never left his face.

To say it put him on edge would've been an understatement.

"What are you two up to tonight?" Miriam asked, shifting her focus to Yael and fussing with the oxygen tube attached to her face.

"We tried this great new southern barbecue restaurant uptown. Awesome food," Yael answered.

Miriam closed her eyes, lost in what appeared to be a pleasant memory. "I remember a trip your grandfather and I took to Georgia. Some of the best food I ever tasted. Terrible humidity." Her eyes snapped open. "Yael, since you came to look for something of your father's, why don't you let me spend a few minutes alone with Haustin?"

Haustin's stomach plummeted, and Yael questioned him silently with a raise of her eyebrows. Tempted as he was to beg her to stay, he offered her a reassuring nod. She touched his arm as she left.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Miriam spoke. "You're making me tired standing there. Sit." She motioned to the chair Yael vacated. He wiped damp palms on his jeans, a movement the woman surely noticed, and sat.

"Do I make you nervous?" she asked, confirming his suspicion.

An unsteady laugh escaped before he could stop it and he blurted an honest answer, "I don't want to disappoint Yael."

"I appreciate that. Do you always dress in this manner?"

If he hadn't caught the twitch of her mouth, Haustin might have taken offense. She obviously enjoyed playing the grouchy old woman, he mused, using her gruff manner to watch how those around her reacted. It allowed him to draw a full breath of air into his lungs. This behavior he recognized, understood. In fact, it wasn't much different from the ribbing he took at the station.

"Trust me, if I'd known we were coming, I wouldn't have shown up looking like a chump. I went straight to Yael's after my shift ended."

"Is being a firefighter rewarding for you?"

He expected there to be disapproval in the question, but he found none. She appeared genuinely interested. Stop being paranoid, he ordered himself.

"It's a family thing, same as yours in a way. My dad, uncle, and grandfather were all firefighters. Never considered doing anything else." He shrugged. "Life might have been easier if I had."

"Your family?"

"Destroyed."

She skewered him with a shrewd look. "Is it really that bad?"

"Worse. I'm not sure how much Yael's told you, but I dealt the same way she did."

"Drugs, anger, running away?"

Again, he searched her face for judgment. "Yes, to the drugs and anger, no to running. It might have been kinder on my wife and kids if I had. I put them through hell and right now, I have no guarantee I won't continue to."

Sharing that pitiful piece of information filled him with a new kind of fear. He didn't know if he could do what Yael had mentioned the other night and step out of the past.

"You can tell a lot by how a man treats his ex."

"I'm well and surely screwed then."

"Maybe, but I also believe in learning from your mistakes. It's how we grow. Yael is teaching me how endless the healing process is. I know she's farther along than you are and it's nothing to be ashamed of." A calculating smile spread across her pale lips. "Since her father is gone, it is up to me to ask ... what are your intentions with my granddaughter?"

Haustin rubbed his neck, trying to wipe at the sweat forming. When did it get so hot? "It's a little soon for that," he managed to say.

"Agreed. I'm still curious."

"We're taking it a day at a time. I don't want to put any pressure on her, or me. I can't guarantee it will be perfect, we both continue to struggle with demons, me more than her, but having Yael in my life helps. Things don't feel as bleak."

His skin pricked in her silence, and he fidgeted in his seat again. Miriam's features formed a perfect, unreadable mask. Damn, he'd hate to play poker with her.

"I realize it won't be easy for either of you to ever move beyond the events of that day, not completely," she began, her voice growing weaker.

"No, ma'am."

"I hope you don't fall back into a place where you'll drag my Yael down with you. You've been fair with me. I'm only returning the favor."

She had voiced one of his biggest fears, the chance that he somehow caused Yael to relapse or get hurt. Haustin didn't want to do to her what he had done to Lindsey. Screwing things up was his specialty, that part of him wasn't gone. As amazing as Yael was, she couldn't cure all his ailments. He had to do the majority on his own.

"All I can say is I'll try my hardest and damndest to take care of her. I'd give you my word, but it isn't worth much lately."

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit."

Miriam fell into a coughing fit and Haustin grabbed the water glass on the bedside table, holding it as she sipped from the straw.

Once recovered, she reclined and said, "It takes a certain bravery to stick with your particular profession in the wake of what happened September 11th."

"I don't know how to do anything else," he grumbled.

"You're still fighting, though, and I can relate. I'm not done here. The end is close, closer than I want Yael to know, but she's my reason to linger. Not the business, not the money, Yael." She wheezed, pausing to catch her breath. "Her courage gives me the strength to face what's coming next."

Strange as it sounded, Haustin felt a kinship with this woman. Maybe because they shared Yael, or maybe because, like she said, she was a fighter, too.

"Are you ready to let your granddaughter have the same kind of peace?"

"What do you mean?"

"She's convinced herself that working for the company is what she has to do, to honor you and her parents. The added strain isn't good for her."

Miriam's eyebrows raised, so high it reminded him of his mom doing the same thing when he stepped over a line. Too late to take it back now.

"She told you this?"

"No, I see it. And I see the joy baking brings to her. She's not the girl you remember. This Yael takes pleasure from simple things—perfecting a batch of cupcakes, chilling on the couch with a good movie, visiting a toy store with my kids, going for a walk in the park. It doesn't make her less of a person to not enjoy the hustle and stress of the corporate world. Better, in my opinion."

"You think you know what she needs better than her family?" Disdain laced her tone.

"Maybe, considering we have spent the same short time span with this new version of Yael."

"She's falling back into the girl she was before, filled with determination and ambition."

"Which puts unnecessary stress on her."

"I'm giving her a legacy."

"But does she want it? Have you even asked?" His mouth went dry as soon as the words exited his mouth. Rein it in, Macauley, he lectured silently.

"Yael is a big girl. It was her decision to return to Malkah Enterprises. Not mine."

"Are you sure about that? That she didn't do it for you?"

"I appreciate your honesty and your arguments are noted." She smoothed her blanket daintily with trembling fingers. "I want to make her happy."

Shuffling drew his attention to the doorway, and he watched Yael reenter. Miriam was nearly asleep, so he whispered goodbye and patted her hand, then stepped outside to let Yael do the same. Neither of them said anything until they were on the street. He turned to her, and she blindsided him by planting a big kiss on his lips.

"What was that for?" Tension seeped from his body. He felt like he'd faced the damn Pope.

"I'm happy you got to meet her. Thank you." She grinned. "I think she liked you."

"How can you tell? The woman would kick ass at Texas Hold' Em."

She considered it for a second, eyes crinkling in amusement. "Wow, you're right. I'd never bet against her, not with her ability to keep a straight face." Her stare turned earnest. "I know her pretty well and she seemed content when we left."

He wasn't convinced. His disturbed mind kept highlighting things he could have done better, emphasizing the dark things he'd said and insisting he'd overstepped with the stuff about Yael's career. It dragged him farther and farther down. When they got to her house, he feigned a night with the guys instead of staying with her. Pulling away from her curb, and without another thought, he picked up the phone.

"Haustin?"

Lindsey's voice filled him with so many conflicting emotions; regret, love, guilt.

"Hey," he croaked, suddenly unsure of why he called or what he wanted to say.

"Everything okay?"

"How are the kids?"

"Fine." She chuckled softly. "I have to admit, I was hoping they would have a terrible time last weekend. Is that small of me?"

"I don't want to hurt you any more than I already have." The light turned red, and he leaned his head against the seat, turning up the air conditioning to relieve his clammy skin.

"There's no rulebook for this situation."

"I wish to hell there was."

"You've never been one to read instructions."

He smiled at a memory. "Are you always going to bring up Luna's first swing set?"

"It fell apart the first time she got on it!"

"Figured it looked simple enough to put together."

Their laughter mixed as he slowly merged onto Fifth Avenue. His eyes wandered over the unfamiliar boutiques and the dissociation between Yael's fancy neighborhood and down-to-earth Lindsey sobered him.

"Feels like another lifetime."

Lindsey sighed, and his pulse quickened, remembering the feel of her breath in his ear. "Maybe it was. Different life, different people."

"Are you? Different?" He desperately wanted her to say no.

"I don't know anymore," she whispered. "Haustin, I have to go and run Miles over to a friend's."

They disconnected, and a stinging sensation caused his eyes to blur. He rubbed at them, refusing to acknowledge the wetness he found there. What on earth had come over him to call Lindsey? Maybe it was Miriam and her talk about fighting, of taking advantage of the time she had left. In his line of work, any day could be his last. He felt trapped, stuck between the life he had with Lindsey and the future he saw with Yael. Both had a powerful hold on him and it was terrifying. Especially since each agonizing step he took out of the fog pills gave him, the more connected he felt to his family.

"Hell of a conundrum you've found yourself in," he muttered to the empty truck.