Unsung Hero

by Barbara Ankrum

  Mick: At your service, ma’am. See you soon.

  Her: For God’s sake, don’t call me ma’am.

  Mick: Yes, ma’am.

  Holly grinned and exhaled sharply. She could imagine the teasing smile on Mick’s face as he typed those words. Bless him.

  She leaned against the seat and tipped her head back, staring up at the starry Montana sky through the rear window. She’d known Mick…well, all of them, almost as long as she’d known Tommy. It had been inevitable that she’d choose one of the ‘Band of Brothers’—their name for themselves—for this. It only made sense. And, of the ‘brothers,’ Mick was the obvious choice. The least likely to object or have moral compunctions against her proposal.

  Unlike some of them. Such as Trey.

  She closed her eyes, picturing Trey’s dark eyes. The wave of his slightly long, dark hair. She wondered if he had started to go grey yet, like Tommy prematurely had. Or if Trey still looked like he could take any man in the room?

  Or any woman he chose.

  See? That was why she’d crossed Trey off her potential list. Exactly why. When she was near him, he made her knees go weak. Just thinking of him now made her anxious. He was dangerous in every way that counted. Honorable, handsome, reckless, and, like her late husband, driven by adrenaline.

  Yes, dangerous.

  The roil in the pit of her belly made her feel disloyal to Tommy. Which was silly, of course, since he’d been gone for nearly a year. But logic had no place in her world since her husband’s death. She was a stranger to herself. Alone again. Some days, early on, she’d felt underwater, invisible to everyone around her. Sometimes, she’d look in the mirror, surprised to see herself looking back. After years of being half of a pair, who was she now? Was there anywhere this jagged little puzzle piece fit anymore? And even though her marriage was far from perfect, it had been enough to settle for. Because it made her who she was. Even now, it shocked her that she’d become so very lost.

  For a while, after his death, she’d sensed him around her. She would walk into a room and hear his laughter. Or anger would well up out of nowhere. And she’d know he was somewhere near, watching her navigate the choppy waters of his loss. The trip he’d sent her on, the long letter his lawyer had given her, was his last gift to her. And even though he hadn’t ever really shared his whole heart with her when he’d been alive, she knew, from that letter, that he had loved her. Truly. Loved her. Though she took little comfort from that now. And she hardly ever felt him around her now.

  The slow unwinding of the tangle of her heart had taken place over this last year in places so remote she couldn’t have even imagined them before. But slowly, slowly, she had found herself again. Stepping off airplanes and boats and up the trails of mountains he’d once climbed, she had become visible again. Herself. And if there was one thing she knew for certain, it was that she never wanted to lose herself again. Which was why she’d decided on her plan.

  She shifted her gaze to the Big Dipper, picking out the stars in the handle, then following them to the pot. Tommy would appreciate this beautiful view of his home sky. He would have loved it. And now, Trey was here, too. On Tommy’s urging, she supposed.

  It was no secret Trey had made some kind of pact with her late husband years ago, when they’d been in the Middle East, to watch out for her if anything happened to him. And if she knew Trey, that promise hadn’t ended with the war. Exhibit A: his constant emails to check up on her in her travels. All very big brotherly. She knew very well that obligation was what Trey felt for her. And any sparks she’d ever perceived between them were all in her imagination.

  Anyway, she was done with men like Trey and the others. Men who needed danger and all the things that came with soldiering and living life on the edge. Men who could shut down their hearts for war or whatever whim that took them away. She was alone now and fine. Which was why Mick was the perfect choice for her plan. The Peter Pan-est of them all. Hello, goodbye forever.

  And why Trey couldn’t know. She braced to avoid any mention of this to him.

  “Here we are, lady,” the taxi driver called over his shoulder as the Christmas decorations lighting up Main Street Marietta came into view. “Where do you want me to drop you?”

  She hadn’t expected to feel nervous at seeing Trey again.

  “Um…can you just drive around a couple of minutes more? Just circle the town a bit?”

  “You sure?” In the rearview mirror, she saw his hairy eyebrows go up. “Meter’s still running.”

  “Just a couple of times. Then I’ll be ready.”

  “Whatever you say, lady.” And he took a spin left, past Grey’s Saloon and toward Riverbend Park.

  *

  Trey Reyes set aside his cold to-go coffee cup and glanced at his watch. 6:37 p.m.

  Holly was almost forty minutes late. Or maybe she’d changed her mind altogether. After all, Marietta, Montana was a long way from…wherever she’d been in the world, and even farther from whatever promise she’d made to her late, great, maniac of a husband, Tommy “Tomahawk” McGuire.

  She’d earned the right to move on, and Trey wouldn’t blame her if she did. In his opinion, whatever debt she owed Tommy as his wife had been paid in full during his lifetime and anything else went beyond. But who was he to judge? At least Tommy had given her a ring, married her—something he had never managed to do with any woman. And clearly, Tommy had left her fixed well enough to do everything he’d asked of her and then some. So he hadn’t been the guy who came home for dinner every night, or even most nights in any given year. Nor had he ever been completely faithful. Not that she knew anything about that. She’d loved Tommy fiercely, and that was enough for Trey.

  A sharp pain edged his memory of the last time he’d seen Holly and Tommy together. The last time, in fact, their ‘Band of Brothers’ had been together, three years ago for an impromptu reunion in Philly on the Fourth of July. At an outdoor bar under the Ben Franklin Bridge, they’d watched the fireworks over the Delaware River, stayed there until it got too dark to see and drank their fill of craft beer and warm tequila, catching up with each other, marking the passage of time. Except for Noah Mathis, who, for reasons none of them fully understood, rarely joined in. Paul Dobbins, Mick, and Cowboy…even his older brother, Nio, who’d opened his home to them all when they were broken. They’d all been there. Tommy and Holly had made a rare appearance together, with Tommy just back from climbing some Nepalese mountain or other that had put him in the headlines of some sports magazine. Even Holly had looked happy then.

  In between drinks, she’d confided to Trey that Tommy had agreed they could start a family the next summer. Trey had been happy for her. For them. Truly. Despite his own feelings for Holly, since they had no place in his relationship with them. And he’d never seen her look more alive than when she’d told him about having children. More…sure of herself. How could he not be happy for her?

  But something had happened to that plan, because he’d never heard about a child and Tommy had shown up without her in Laguna for their last reunion. Shortly afterward, Tommy had died, and she’d spent the last year traveling around the world. Traveling alone. Well, not completely alone.

  And now, she might not come. And in less than thirty-six hours, Dobbins, Mick, and Cowboy would descend on Marietta from all points on the globe, entirely for her sake. And Tommy’s, of course.

  Trey sighed and stretched his back. An hour and ten minutes ago, he’d chosen this seat at the front window of the Java Café so he could see her coming. He checked his phone. Nothing. As he began to suspect he’d been stood up, he wished he’d chosen a seat at the back, where no one would have noticed him waiting for someone who would never show.

  Not that he usually minded being alone. Alone was how he operated. Ask anyone who knew him. But right now, he didn’t want to be. Maybe it had something to do with the twenty-six fresh-cut Christmas trees he’d counted as his coffee cooled, tied to the tops of passing SUVs and heading for warm, c
ozy homes all over the valley. Or the crowds of Christmas shoppers intersecting with each other, stopping for a hug or a chat under the star decorations strung across Main Street. Or maybe it was even the cute young barista whose name tag read Brianna, who’d come by twice with her rag to wipe down the empty counter beside him, attempting to make pity small talk with him.

  Small talk eluded him.

  More likely, it was remembering a time, years ago, when he’d been a part of something bigger than himself. And Tomahawk McGuire and Holly had been a part of that thing, too.

  “You sure I can’t get you something else?” Brianna asked as he crumbled up his napkin and stuffed it into his half-full cup. “A scone? A brownie? I made those myself.”

  “Really. No.” He pulled out a fifty-dollar bill and tucked it into her hand. “But thanks.”

  “Whoa! Really? You can’t be serious.” Wide-eyed, she blinked up at him. If she was out of high school yet, he’d be surprised. She had a cheerleader smile and a deep set of dimples.

  “It’s the holidays,” he said. “You’ll find something to spend it on.”

  “Oh, totally,” she said, staring at the tip. “Thank you so much!”

  “Have a good night,” he told her, jamming his knit beanie on his head before heading for the door.

  “You, too!” Off she went to share the news of her good fortune with the other female barista behind the counter.

  Trey smiled and pushed out the door. Christmas music filtered through the air, though he couldn’t pinpoint the source. Shopkeepers hereabouts did their level best to make sure holiday cheer did not escape the notice of anyone in Marietta. He stood for a long beat, undecided, outside the Java Café, scanning the street.

  “So, you’re ditching me?” asked a female voice from behind him.

  He turned, and his pulse stuttered. Holly. Pretty as ever. With her yellow cab pulling away from the curb, she stood a few feet away from him, one hand on the extended handle of her rolling bag, the other fisted on her hip. Those crystalline-blue eyes of hers were assessing him with humor and maybe something else he hadn’t been expecting—confidence. A very sexy, unexpected confidence.

  “Hey, you.” He reached for her and pulled her against his chest in a hug. She returned that in kind. Her head tucked just under his chin, still a perfect fit. In the chilly evening air, their breaths combined in a steamy cloud of white. Despite the navy pea-coat she wore, and the trappings of winter, the tropics still lingered in her hair with a scent he found almost irresistible. But he resisted. “I was afraid you weren’t coming.”

  She flushed. “Sorry. I…I got held up at the airport. And then I couldn’t find a cab.”

  “I warned you. I should have picked you up.”

  “Way too much trouble. Besides,” she said, pulling back to look at him again. “Where’s the adventure in that? I’ve been through so many airports in the last year I’ve lost count. I’m an old hand at this now.”

  “Woman of the world,” he agreed with an admiring grin.

  “It’s about time, don’t you think?”

  The look that passed between them was electric, full of unspoken things. Things he wanted to say, but shouldn’t.

  Her red hair spilled over the grey scarf she had wrapped around her neck, shining under the Christmas lights above them. “I need to hear all about your adventures. You look great, Holly. Beautiful, as always.”

  Her eyes widened in a flattered way. “And you.” She brushed his cheek affectionately with the back of her knuckles. “You always were the handsomest of the bunch.”

  He shook his head with a laugh. “You know Tommy was ‘prettier’ than all of us. And he never tried to deny it.”

  She looked at her brown leather boots, tips covered with the light dusting of snow that had fallen this afternoon. “No, he did not,” she admitted with a bittersweet grin.

  “Are you cold? Hungry? Do you want some coffee?” He gestured at the Java Café. “And then I could redeem myself with a particularly pitying waitress there who thought I’d been stood up.”

  “Since when does Trey Reyes need to redeem himself with anyone? Besides, I could use some food if you don’t mind,” she said with a shiver. “Bali to Montana is a bit of a long trip.”

  “Yeah.” He shook his head wonderingly. Bali. “This place can’t compete with the South Pacific.”

  She glanced up at the quaint storefronts, dressed to the nines for the holidays. “Oh, I don’t know. Bali’s warm and delicious and everything you’d imagine paradise to be, but Marietta has a charm all of its own. Especially this time of year.” She turned that smile on him. “Wow, it’s so good to see you again, Trey.”

  For a moment, he thought she meant to hug him again, but she simply smiled at him. “You, too.” Ambushed by the yearning she stirred in him, he forcibly shoved those feelings down, sure they wouldn’t be welcome. But he couldn’t help the heat that drove through the core of him at his first good look at her in years. She’d always had that effect on him. Now was no different.

  Though he knew his boundaries, that didn’t stop him from appreciating the differences he saw in her, from then to now. At thirty-four, she’d grown into her beauty, not past it. The years had only fine-tuned the angles of her cheeks and the softness of her smile. It was as if the weight of her last years with Tommy had been lifted from her.

  But she’d never considered Tommy a weight. Had she?

  He relieved her of her wheeled bag. “Grey’s Saloon it is then. It’s right around the corner, and we can feed you while we’re there. This bag all you’ve got?”

  “I’m traveling lighter these days.”

  “The queen of understatement.” He tested the light weight of the bag. “So…is he…is Tommy in—?”

  “Uh-huh, the last of him,” she said, patting the bag. “We’ve been on…well…quite a journey together.” She laughed. “See there? Understatement and I have a love/hate relationship.”

  They began walking toward Grey’s Saloon, through crowds of shoppers and families out seeing the lights.

  “So,” she said, tucking her arm casually in his, “the big-city boy finally settles down in small-town Marietta, huh? All Tommy’s fault, I suspect.”

  “Completely.” It had been Tommy’s stories about this valley that had drawn Trey here in the first place. He’d needed a respite in the aftermath of the war, but that wasn’t why he stayed. Those reasons were much more complicated.

  They passed the hardware store where the display in the window had caught the attention of several passing men. Electric screwdrivers, saws, etc., all tied up in red bows. “I’m in Marietta more these days for work than I’m in L.A. It’s economic, really. Buying a place here made more sense money wise than staying in hotels.” But that wasn’t the whole truth. Not by a long shot.

  “Ah. I see.”

  “Plus,” he added, “I like it here. They’re good people.”

  “Then you should fit right in.” With a wink, she grinned at him.

  He laughed. “I figure I’m the exception to the rule here. But they let me in the club, anyway.”

  Snow began to fall lightly again, drifting in airy little flakes as they reached Grey’s. He opened the door for her and followed her in. The place was packed with people, but they managed to find a table in the corner. Music was playing in the background—something country about cold beer and heartbreak. A few people were even dancing.

  They shared a plate of appetizers. Trey ordered Jack Daniels on the rocks, but she insisted on water. He found himself staring at her hands. At the gold band she still wore on her fourth finger, which she nervously twisted without even realizing. That she still wore it only served as a reminder of his long ago promise to her husband.

  After taking a sip of his drink, he asked, “Does Tommy’s family know you’re in town?”

  She paused to take a drink, too. “Not yet. I’ll call them. I will.”

  They hadn’t come to Tommy’s service last year on the Cape. His mo
ther had a political campaign, or something like that, he’d been told. But everyone knew why they hadn’t come. That Holly was willing to call them at all, he found extraordinary. If it were him, they’d never see his face again.

  “How long are you here for?” he asked, hoping she’d surprise him.

  “It depends,” she hedged, running her finger around the rim of her glass until it hummed.

  “Depends on what?”

  She popped a guacamole-covered tortilla chip in her mouth. “Oh, we can talk about that later. I want to hear about you, Trey. About your life here. Are you happy? Working? Have you met someone?”

  The irony of her question made him smile. He had, actually. Met someone. But that had been ten years ago, and she’d already been taken. She wasn’t asking about her, though. “Still single. Busy with work. My work here has grown beyond the Canaday Law Firm, and some other local attorneys are using my services.”

  “P.I. work still?”

  “Mostly. Some security. I have a couple of people who work for me here now.”

  She smiled at him, that girl-next-door smile that always floored him. “I’d expect nothing less. I bet you’re good at all of it.”

  “I am,” he admitted with a grin. “You know, Tommy and I actually talked about doing this together once upon a time after we separated from the military, but…”

  “—but he couldn’t shake his need for speed. That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it?”

  He couldn’t deny it. But coping with the aftereffects of the war and what they’d gone through was something deeply personal to each of them. Conquering mountains and defying death was just Tommy’s way. It had ended him.

  She sighed, then took another drink. “The real world was never as appealing to him as the one over the next horizon.” With an embarrassed smile, she added, “Sorry. I shouldn’t say things like that.”

  He shook his head. “Nobody would blame you.”

  She glanced around the bar. “This place is sure hopping for a Thursday night in Marietta.”

  Indeed, he’d discerned two separate office parties going on, which threatened to merge into one as the night and the drinks wore on. “’Tis the season.”