by Kaylea Cross
“You were so out of it, I didn’t want to leave. I had to drag you back to bed twice.”
She had? He didn’t remember that. But to make a pregnant woman, let alone the one he was in love with, stay on the hard floor? Nuh uh. And what if she got sick now? “Jesus, Moll.”
“I’m fine, I promise. Just glad you’re feeling better.” She rounded the end of the bed to grab her purse. “I’ve got a meeting at the funeral home, but I’ll check on you later. If you need anything, text me. There’s leftover soup—undigested—in the fridge, and I put some applesauce in there too. No dairy, and if your stomach’s still iffy, then pick out the chicken when you eat the soup.”
“Moll.”
She stopped at the door to look back at him, raising her eyebrows.
She was so damn beautiful standing there. He couldn’t believe she’d stayed to take care of him when she had so much going on. “Thank you.”
She gave him a smile. “Of course. Now get better.”
Jase lay there listening to her footsteps retreat down the stairs, then the front door shut. A few moments later, her car engine started.
In the silence, his gaze strayed over to the framed photo of him, his grandfather and Carter on the bookshelf. Jase had given Carter his word he would look after Molly if anything happened to him, and he would, always. No matter how much it hurt.
Chapter Two
CTE. Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy.
That’s what had killed her ex-husband. Although in some ways Carter had been dead to her a long time before he’d driven his truck over the side of that cliff.
Molly stood rigidly at the gravesite as the early September sun shone down on her and watched the uniformed pallbearers carry the flag-draped casket toward them from the hearse. The sight of it as they’d brought it into the church earlier had been a heavier shock than she had anticipated, the finality of it hitting her hard.
Now she fixed her gaze on the blue field of the flag, placed in the traditional manner over Carter’s left shoulder. As Carter’s former commanding officer, Beckett was positioned next to it. Opposite him was Jase. They looked so strong and handsome in their dress uniforms. Invincible, even though she knew better.
Behind them walked three other Green Berets who had served with Carter at some point, as well as Aidan MacIntyre in his navy blue Royal Marines dress uniform. Aidan had become tight with the others when his unit had carried out joint operations with Carter’s A-team overseas.
Together the men carried the casket to the grave, somber and stalwart. At an order from Beckett, they carefully placed it onto the lowering device. Molly wasn’t sure what she felt at that moment. Numb, mostly.
The past few weeks had been an exhausting blur. The funeral had been delayed for over a month after his death because she’d been involved in a lengthy battle with Carter’s parents about final arrangements for him.
Out of respect for his last wishes and the man he used to be, Molly had insisted Carter be buried here in Crimson Point. He would have wanted that, to be near her, Beckett and Jase. He would have hated being buried back in Kansas, a place he hadn’t visited once in the entire time she’d known him.
In the end, she’d gotten her way. But it meant that Carter’s body had been held in a Portland morgue until the other day, when his remains had finally been released to the local funeral home.
As an experienced ER nurse Molly was no stranger to death or horrific injuries, yet she had declined the invitation to view Carter’s body. She hadn’t wanted her last sight or memory of him to be of charred, blistered skin from the horrific burns he’d suffered in the fire after the crash.
She had agreed to the autopsy, however, in the hopes that the pathologists would be able to find the cause of his drastic mental decline since his brain injury suffered on his final tour in Afghanistan well over a year ago.
All around her the small crowd of people attending the graveside service faded into the background. Her friends Sierra and Poppy were here, as well as her mom and grandmother, who had flown in from North Carolina.
The Army chaplain officiating the service began his remarks. Molly listened with only part of her attention, her hands knitted together tightly in her lap, pressed against her burgeoning abdomen. She was more than four months pregnant now. The unintended result of wanting to comfort Carter during the last stages of their dissolving marriage.
Now she could admit the truth. She’d slept with him that final time to say goodbye, and also partly because she’d been so damn lonely…
Movement around the casket broke her from her thoughts. The Army honor guard took its position behind the grave.
She started a little when they fired the first rifle volley. Jase, Beckett and Aiden stood at attention, holding a salute along with their fellow servicemen in uniform. Two more volleys followed. Three precisely timed and spaced shots, the customary signal that the dead and wounded had been removed from the battlefield and cared for after a battle.
Then the first haunting notes of Taps rang out. Chills raced down her spine in spite of the midday heat, and her eyes stung. Muffled sobbing came from nearby. Carter’s mother, seated next to the man she had divorced more than thirty years ago. Though they had every right to be here, Molly still didn’t understand why they’d come.
They hadn’t been there for Carter, too wrapped up in their own lives to maintain a relationship with him. Not even when he’d been wounded. And most certainly not through his hellish ordeal since.
They hadn’t once traveled to see him in the hospital. He’d stopped taking his mother’s increasingly infrequent calls months ago. Upon arrival at the church for the funeral service they had given Molly cold looks and an even colder shoulder. She did her best to ignore them, glad they would be gone in the morning. This was about Carter, not them, and she intended to make sure he was buried with dignity in the place he would have wanted.
“In his life he honored this flag. In death the flag shall honor him,” the chaplain said.
The honor guard stepped forward and began folding the flag. Once it was transformed into a neat triangle, one of them approached her and knelt before her. “On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Army and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one’s honorable and faithful service.”
Molly took it and held it on her lap, her spine rigid. Since she was technically Carter’s ex-wife, the flag should have gone to his mother. But Molly would be damned if that woman would have this last piece of him. Carter would have wanted her to have it, not the woman who had given birth to him and then deserted him in his time of greatest need.
The military chaplain said something else and launched into yet another prayer. She didn’t hear a word of it, too lost in her thoughts.
Then, one by one, Carter’s brothers-in-arms came forward to pay their respects.
Beckett went first, dropping to one knee beside the bare casket. He placed a hand on the lid, bent his head and murmured something she didn’t catch. Then he placed a Green Beret pin on the top and raised his hand, curling it into a fist.
Molly flinched as he slammed the end of it down on the pin, punching it into the polished wood. Beckett stood, saluted smartly, and turned away.
Then Jase took his turn.
It seemed to her that he moved in slow motion as he mimicked his former A-Team commander, crouching next to the casket and placing his palm flat on the top.
He held such a special place in her heart, and she ached for him. This ordeal had been every bit as hard for him as it had for her. He had known Carter longer, had been his best friend since they’d gone through SF selection together years ago. Carter’s downward spiral had cost him not only her, but Jase and Beckett as well. Men he’d once fought beside and bled with, men he’d relied on for survival during the terror of combat.
Other mourners stood to place flowers on the casket. Carter’s mother. Molly’s mother.
Molly
went last. She handed the flag to her mother, set her hands on the edge of her folding chair and pushed upright. Her knees threatened to wobble for a moment. A strong hand shot out to grasp her upper arm, supporting her. Glancing up, she met Jase’s aqua stare. Steady. Watchful. Comforting.
Giving him a nod to let him know she was okay, she stepped forward to face the casket, a white rose in her hand. Her mind was in chaos, too many mixed emotions spinning there to sift through, but guilt and regret battled for supremacy.
Remember the good times.
She’d promised herself the night Carter died that she would focus on the good instead of the bad.
She owed him that, and so rather than thinking of how he had been in the months prior to his death, she thought of Carter’s blinding smile in the midst of his thick, dark beard. His contagious belly laugh that could make complete strangers join in. His fun-loving personality, the way he was always the life of the party. Always hamming it up, making sure he was the center of attention.
Life had been many things with him, but boring wasn’t one of them. Then that IED blast in Helmand Province had changed everything forever.
She didn’t know how long she stared down at the decorated coffin lid. Warmth registered along her left side and a strong arm curled around her shoulders. Jase. She knew it without looking up, from his distinctive, spicy scent. She drew in a deep breath, feeling calmer.
It’s time. Let him go. Let him be at peace.
Leaning forward, she placed her palms on the lid and bent to touch her lips to the sun-warmed surface, right beneath the row of pins that Carter’s fellow warriors had pounded into the wood.
“Goodbye, sweetheart,” she whispered, speaking to the man he used to be, and the man she hoped he was again now. Wherever his spirit was, she prayed that he was finally at peace.
Placing the rose in the center, she straightened and allowed Jase to escort her back to her seat. Beckett was there too, waiting to help her.
Her throat tightened at the way they took care of her. They had both been there for her at every turn before the night Carter died, and especially since. Helping take care of the final arrangements, walking her through all the steps, the financial and estate paperwork because she’d been overwhelmed and not thinking clearly. What would she have done without them these past few months?
They were both hurting too, especially Jase, who blamed himself for Carter’s death no matter how everyone tried to dissuade him of the notion. Molly still didn’t know the details, but he and Carter had come to blows the night Jase found her in the culvert. After the fight, Carter had jumped in his truck and taken off. Minutes later, he’d crashed through the guardrail on the coastal highway and plunged over the edge of the cliff.
Even now it was impossible to know whether it had been an accident or suicide. The toxicology report showed Carter’s blood alcohol levels were below the legal limit, and they’d found only prescription meds in his system.
The rest of the service passed quickly. One final prayer from the chaplain, and it was finally over.
Molly stood and walked toward the limousine parked on the cemetery road with Jase and Beckett flanking her. She didn’t want to stay and watch the cemetery workers lower Carter into the ground. Couldn’t stand to hear the terrible thud of finality when the casket hit bottom, or watch them cover it up with dirt.
She stopped partway to the limo, aware of Jase and Beckett following close behind. Watching over her. Ready to do whatever they could to help.
But they couldn’t help her now. No one could. She was on her own. She and her baby.
“I want to walk for a few minutes,” she told them. During the coming reception at Beckett and Sierra’s she would have to play the hostess and visit with everyone, maybe even her in-laws. She needed to gear up for it. “Just need a little time to myself.”
Beckett traded a look with Jase before focusing on her. “All right.”
Her high heels clicked lightly on the pavement as she walked away, past rows of graves and trees leafed out in their late summer glory. The farther she got from the ceremony, the easier it was to draw in a deep breath. In another few weeks, the glowing green leaves would begin to turn scarlet and gold, then start to fall.
She put a hand to her abdomen and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. This child might not have been planned, but Molly considered the baby to be a blessing. A piece of Carter would live on, and there was comfort in that even though the thought of having and raising a child on her own seemed lonely and daunting.
As of right now she had only her income to sustain her. Carter’s life insurance policy named her as the beneficiary, but the settlement was up in the air until the company could determine whether his death had been an accident or suicide. If they decided it was suicide, the policy was null and void and Molly would get nothing. She had to plan as if she wasn’t going to get anything from the insurance company.
A slight breeze blew across her skin, stirring the leaves overhead. She stopped and looked over her shoulder. Everyone was gathered around the grave now, including Beckett and Jase. The cemetery workers were lowering the casket.
Molly looked away and headed back for the limo, keeping her gaze averted from the gravesite.
She glanced up a minute later when she noticed a man in a suit approaching her casually on the path. She stopped, not recognizing him. Mid-to-late thirties maybe, dark-haired, fair skin, dressed in a tailored suit and wearing sunglasses.
He gave her a polite smile and stopped in front of her, his hands clasped in front of him. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” He didn’t introduce himself. “How did you know Carter?” Maybe he was one of the clients connected to Beckett’s renovation company. Carter had been project manager for several months before Beckett had been forced to let him go due to his increasingly erratic behavior.
“We had business dealings together,” the man said, and something about his tone struck her as cryptic.
She was about to ask what kind of business dealings, but the mourners were all leaving the gravesite now. Time to go.
She aimed a polite smile at the stranger. “Excuse me.”
“Of course.” He stepped aside and let her pass, but she could feel his gaze lingering on her as she approached the limo.
At the vehicle she accepted dozens of hugs and other condolences from the guests until she was half-desperate to escape into the back of it and shut the door.
As though sensing her distress, Jase materialized out of the crowd and ushered her into the open back door. Her mom and grandmother were already seated in the back, ever the elegant Southern ladies in their black dresses and tasteful black hats with veils that covered their eyes. “See you at Beckett and Sierra’s,” Jase said to her, his broad shoulders blocking out the sunlight and the crowd of people behind him as he shut the door.
Thankfully the reception passed quickly. Throughout it, she was keenly aware of where Jase stood nearby, still in his dress uniform. He stayed within sight, keeping an eye on her. She drew strength and comfort from that.
The guests began to leave earlier than she had expected, and she was glad. More than anything she just wanted this to be over so she could put it all behind her and actually move forward instead of feeling like she was just treading water. She’d loved her husband, but he hadn’t been Carter for a long time. She’d done most of her grieving before he’d died. Now it was time to move on.
On their way to the door her mom and grandmother invited her to stay at their hotel just outside of town rather than go back to her rental house alone. Molly declined.
Her mother gave her a sympathetic look, then hugged her tight. “You need to come home,” she said, the familiar scent of her perfume making tears prick Molly’s eyes. She was excited about becoming a grandma come February, and it wasn’t the first time she’d tried to convince Molly to move back to North Carolina since the situation with Carter had blown up.
But that was all the help her mo
ther had offered.
Where were you? Molly wanted to demand. Where were you when I was going through hell and I needed you?
Her mother had never come to visit her here. Not once, even though she’d known what was going on with Carter, because she had never supported Molly’s decision to marry him, and she was angry that Molly had moved away. Molly wasn’t sure if she could get past that.
She choked the painful questions back and returned the hug. Asking them now would only cause more pain, and she’d had enough of that already for several lifetimes. Besides, the high road always had the best views.
“Not right now,” she answered evenly.
“For a visit at least, then,” her grandmother said, standing next to her daughter. Her complexion was several shades darker than her daughter’s, and a few darker still than Molly’s.
“Maybe. But not right now,” Molly said, holding firm.
She needed to find her bearings. Figure out what the rest of her life was going to look like. Running home to North Carolina to hide at her mother’s house now was a cop out. She needed to stand on her own two feet and face the future alone for a while. Before this child came into the world, she needed to have everything figured out. Beginning with finding a place to live once her rental agreement at her current place was up in ten days.
After her relatives left, Molly thanked Beckett and Sierra for hosting, hugged them both and walked outside into the balmy summer evening. Jase drove her back to the rental house she was staying in.
“How you holding up?” he asked as he made the turn off Salt Spray Lane and headed toward town.
“Okay. Just glad it’s done.”
He was silent a moment. “Do you want me to stay with you tonight?”
