by Skye Taylor
“He’s growing up.” Ben squeezed her knees and inched the ottoman closer.
“He’s just a baby.”
“It’s a boy thing. If you’d had a father around when you were seven, would you have wanted him to see you in your birthday suit? I don’t know. Maybe girls are different, but I think that’s about when I started banishing my mom from the bathroom when I was getting into the shower.”
For a moment, Meg was diverted by the image of Ben, small, blond, and embarrassed about being naked in his mother’s presence. Ben was right. She’d never known who her father was so she didn’t know if she would have been just as uptight about him hanging around while she was dressing. The first time she’d been faced with anything similar, she’d been terrified. But that had been Remy lounging on her bed when all she had on was a towel and she’d already begun to develop. Not the same thing at all.
“We need to talk about Kip.”
Meg jerked back to the present. To the abrupt change of topic. “What about Kip?”
“You said I didn’t ask your opinion about fostering him. And you were right. I thought maybe we should discuss it since it looks like it’s gonna be more than just a few weeks.”
“I said, whatever you decide is fine.” Meg didn’t want to have to make a decision. Her feelings about Kip were all over the map. One minute she wanted him gone. Another moment, she was thankful for his presence, silent and reassuring, especially in the dark of night when she wandered sleepless through the house.
When she’d rounded Ben’s truck and seen Kip shaking like a leaf in front of the open cruiser door, she’d wanted to throw herself in the dirt and wrap her arms about him to reassure him that no one was going to force him into the car. He’d been there, solid and accepting when she had her little meltdown and soaked his fur with her tears. She’d wanted to be there for him in his terror.
But she’d stood back, barely looking at Kip as Ben introduced her to the police officer. Then she’d fled to the house barely able to see where she was going for the tears filling her eyes. How did she feel about Kip staying with them indefinitely?
“If he stays much longer, sleeping in the house, playing with the boys, and being around family, it could easily become permanent,” Ben started to explain. “If he’s never able to return to police work, that is. I’d say that requires a consensus. At least some discussion.”
Until that very moment, she’d not even noticed that Kip had not come into the house with Ben earlier. “Where is he now?”
“He’s out in the kennel.”
“You put him in a crate? All by himself?” Meg’s heart protested. Kip hadn’t done anything to deserve isolation. “You banished him to the kennel?”
Ben wagged his head and grinned. “Not exactly banished. I did leave him in the kennel, but he’s loose with Columbo for company.”
Meg pushed Ben’s hands off her knees and stood.
“Where are you going?” Ben shot to his feet.
“To get Kip.”
“But we need to talk.” Ben caught her hand. He was frowning now. Looking worried.
Meg pulled free. “We can talk later.” She headed for the door, leaving Ben sitting on the ottoman by himself.
Captain Allan’s advice to sit down and have a serious discussion with Ben about working with him again, working with the dogs again, taunted Meg all the way out to the kennel building. Ben had just given her the perfect opening to bring it up, but she’d deliberately avoided it. The jumble of mixed signals her heart was sending out about Kip confused her. She didn’t know how she felt about going out to work with the rest of the dogs yet.
Kip was one thing. She’d more or less come to terms with him being around. But that wasn’t the same as spending every day training dogs who looked just like Scout. Dogs she knew would be going into harm’s way once they left Ben’s kennel. The idea of working with a dog, getting to know it and care about it, then hearing later that it had been shot terrified her. Could she bear such an ending? Again? Did she want to take that chance?
Chapter 20
“I GOT TO THINKING about our last conversation via Skype and wondered if you thought about it at all,” Ben asked as Meg turned out the light and sat down on the edge of the bed. He reached for her, and she let him pull her down into his embrace. “So, did you?”
“We talked a bunch of times via Skype. I can’t recall all the things we might have talked about.” She snuggled into him and ran her hand over his abdomen. “I remember talking about whether men were beautiful or not.”
Ben grunted. She’d gotten him so turned on in spite of the fact she was thousands of miles away. He’d been thankful the boys had not been present for that little Skype discussion. Meg slid her roaming hand a little lower. He was getting pretty turned on right now, but they needed to talk.
“Men are handsome,” he offered his usual rebuttal. He covered her hand with his own and stopped what she was doing with it. If he let her keep it up, they wouldn’t talk. They’d make love. Then she’d fall asleep.
“But I was referring to the option of trying for baby number three.” If she felt so left out and aimless, maybe a baby would help. A new baby would be totally dependent on her, and he remembered how wrapped up in the boys she had been when they were infants.
Ben had always wanted a big family. Like the one he’d grown up in. Meg had never seemed to have a strong opinion one way or another. Back then she’d been focused on the idea of a career in law enforcement. But now that she’d changed her mind and, in fact, had no idea what she wanted, maybe a baby would fill some unmet need she couldn’t find the words to explain.
Uneasily, Ben realized Meg had gone very still. “You told me you wanted a little girl.” He tried to get the discussion going again.
“I wanted a girl when I was pregnant with Evan.”
“They say the third time’s the charm.”
“Maybe, but it’s not a guarantee.”
“Nothing in life is a guarantee, Meggie.” Ben cupped his wife’s chin and turned her face up toward his. He kissed her briefly on the mouth. She was so contrary lately, he was worried. She wouldn’t talk about Kip, didn’t want to discuss the dogs in general, but then turned around and insisted on bringing Kip into the house rather than leaving him with Columbo for the night. Now she seemed to be dancing all around the idea of getting pregnant again. “You want to tell me what’s really bothering you?”
She rolled out of his embrace and folded her arms across her chest.
“I tried to tell you the other day, but you didn’t get it.” Her voice was sharp, the words like pellets thrown at him so hard they stung.
“I didn’t get what?”
“That I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know what I want. How can I know if I want a baby if I don’t even know who I am?”
“Then let’s talk about what you do know.” Ben felt desperate. He wanted to be there for her, but he didn’t know where there was. He rolled up onto one elbow and cupped the side of her face with his hand. “I want to fix whatever’s wrong.”
She pulled away from his touch and rolled off the bed onto her feet. She grabbed her robe and wrapped it about her naked body. “You can’t fix everything, Ben.” She stalked across the room to the door and started down the hall.
Ben got to his feet, found his briefs, and pulled them on. Then he followed her.
She was standing at the big bay window in the living room, shoulders slumped, staring out into the night. He came up behind her and put his arms around her. “So, maybe I can’t fix it, but I still want to help, Meggie. You just have to tell me what you need.”
“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.” Her voice sounded small.
Ben’s heart jerked in pain. His own and hers. What had happened to the easy friendship they’d always known? She used to tell him
everything. The good things and the bad. About her feelings, her fears, the things she hoped for and dreamed of. Everything. Everything except what Remy had done to her when she was just a kid, that is. That last thought zapped him like a Taser. Meg had never told him about Remy.
Had something happened to her that involved another man?
Had she been violated? That shocking possibility hit Ben like a sluice of ice water.
He thought back over the last three weeks of intense lovemaking. There had been a hint of desperation to it some of the time. A feeling of neediness. But then, he’d been pretty needy himself after a year apart. Surely a woman who’d been raped wouldn’t behave that way. She would have flinched at his touch. Like she had back when they were first becoming intimate. Before Ben had found out about Remy and the trauma Meg had experienced. Meg had been just the opposite of traumatized since she got back from Iraq.
Another blast from the emotional Taser.
Was there someone else? Was she in love with this man John who she called out to in her nightmares? That would certainly explain why she couldn’t tell Ben what she needed. A woman could hardly tell her husband that what she ached for was the love of another man. Not unless she was getting ready to end the marriage.
Ben’s throat went tight, and he felt suddenly dizzy.
“Do you still love me?”
“Of course, I love you.” Meg whirled out of his embrace and turned to face him. “I’ve always loved you. But I just need to be alone right now. Please, Ben. Just leave me alone for a little bit.”
Ben dropped his hands to his sides. He wanted to haul her into his arms and hold her so tight neither of them would be able to breathe very well. But he’d promised to give her whatever she needed, and she’d asked him to leave her alone.
Without touching her anywhere else, he bent and kissed her on the forehead. “I love you, Meggie. And I’m a man of my word. I’m just praying this alone time you need so much is just temporary, because one thing I do know for certain is that I need you. I don’t know how I’ll live without you, if that’s what you find you want.”
He turned and walked back to their bedroom. He glanced back once. She was still watching him, so he blew her a kiss that she didn’t return. Then he took himself to bed.
“YOU CAN’T FIX this for her, Ben. No matter how much you love her and no matter how hard you try, you can’t fix it for her. She has to fix it for herself. And before that she has to want to fix it.”
“But, Dad,” Ben pleaded. “It’s killing me. I’ve gotta be able to do something.” He’d come to talk to his dad because he didn’t know where else to turn. Cam had once been where Meg was right now. He’d been hurt and disillusioned by the reality of war. He’d lashed out and tried to push Ben’s mother away. But here they were, still married and still in love all these years later. Cam had to know what Meg needed. What Ben could do.
“I can’t do nothing.” His eyes stung. He turned away and gazed out over the Atlantic Ocean through the watery sheen. His whole life was falling apart, and there was nothing he could do to save it?
“I didn’t say do nothing.” Cam’s voice was quietly reassuring. “There’s a lot you can do. Some you can’t, but more that you can.” He came to stand beside Ben and rested his hands on the sturdy wooden railing. Ben could feel the heat of his father’s body, as calming as his voice. Ben wanted to turn and feel himself folded into his father’s embrace. To have someone bigger and wiser than he was take charge and fix the ache in his heart. But he wasn’t five years old anymore, and this wasn’t a broken toy.
“The number one thing you need to do is to understand that what Meg is going through is not something you are responsible for. Don’t take it personally when she lashes out or withdraws into some personal little hell. The second most important thing is to just keep on loving her. Be there for her no matter how hard she makes it for you at the moment. And make sure she knows you are there for her, no matter what.
“Stick up for the boys if you need to, but be gentle about it. Most of all don’t be afraid to show her you are hurting too. She loves you. She’s just too caught up in her own world of hurt right now to see what she’s doing to you, so you need to tell her. Help her see that she’s got to make the first move before things can get better.”
His father pushed himself away from the railing. “Let’s go for a walk. I want to tell you about a young man I once knew. I’ll just let your mom know where we’re going.”
BEN TOOK HIS TIME driving home, thinking about the things his dad had revealed about himself, about his marriage, and how close he’d come to making sure Ben never happened at all.
His father had always seemed so solid. So reliable and so grounded. Ben couldn’t recall a single time his father had raised his voice, even when Ben or one of his siblings deserved a thorough scolding. The only time he’d ever seen his father cry was the day his baby brother had fallen out of a tree, and Cam had rushed to the lifeless little body, begging Jake to be okay. They’d all cried that day. Tears of relief when Jake finally regained consciousness. Tears of release after hours of anguished waiting and praying around a bed that was way too big for the little body laying so still and lifeless in the middle of it. Those tears Ben understood.
But the picture of a tormented young man on the verge of suicide was so at odds with everything Ben thought he knew about his father that Ben hadn’t been able to find any words in response. He could no more picture his dad throwing his treasured worry stone away in a rage than he could imagine Cam shouting at the love of his life, telling her she’d be better off without him. And nothing Ben’s mother had done had been able to fix Cam’s broken soul until Cam himself realized what he’d nearly thrown away and sought the help he needed.
Cam had pulled the little stone from his pocket and studied it for a bit before he’d embarked on the unpleasant story of his younger self. That smooth little stone had lived in his father’s pocket for as long as Ben could remember. He had played with it as a child. He recalled the warmth it retained whenever he’d fished it out of his father’s pocket to look at. But he’d never known the whole story until tonight.
If Ben had found a similar stone on the beach he’d have taken it home to Meg, but he hadn’t. Besides, that was his father’s thing. Meg deserved her own talisman.
Last night had been Ben’s dark night of the soul. It wasn’t going to be easy, but now he knew where he would find the strength to get through the difficult days ahead. Cam didn’t believe for a minute that Meg had fallen out of love with Ben or into love with another man. Or that she might have been unfaithful. It was not unheard of. Deployment was hell on relationships. Soldiers all too frequently received Dear John letters from home and just as frequently found solace in the arms of someone closer to hand when life was hanging by a thread. But his father said he’d bet the farm that was not what was bothering Meg.
He’d done his best to describe the intense closeness that soldiers felt for each other. It was a bond like no other. The ultimate adversity of war and imminent death fused those bonds so strongly that men would run into certain death to save a buddy. It was unlikely that Meg would not have felt that way about the men and women she served with, but that would not have taken the place of the love she had for Ben.
His father had sounded so certain and his explanation so convincing, Ben felt better already. He hadn’t shared his doubts about keeping the kennels with his father. The idea of letting them go was a kind of last resort thing and only if Meg gave him some indication that she wanted him to. But it was still on the table. The most important thing in his life was Meg. So long as she was his, he could deal with anything else.
Maybe he’d try teaching. If it hadn’t been for the dream of training dogs, he’d have been a middle school history teacher. Until Ben’s junior year in high school, he’d hated history. Then he’d ended up in Jack Bowman’s Ameri
can History class. Bowman had made history come alive. His methods were totally different from any teacher Ben had ever had before or since, but they had been very effective in lighting a fire under reluctant students of history. Ben knew he could be the same kind of teacher and perhaps make the same kind of difference in other young people’s lives. If he had to give up the kennels, he’d be a teacher. Just so long as he still had Meg in his life.
Chapter 21
MEG SAT ON THE top step planning what she would say to Ben. She heard the phone ring, but she didn’t want to answer it. Now that she had made up her mind to follow Dr. Allan’s advice and share everything that had been eating at her with Ben, she didn’t want to be distracted by someone soliciting a donation or wanting to offer her a deal on her credit card rates. If it was important, they’d call back. Or Ben would pick up the call out in his office and deal with it.
The phone stopped ringing, and Meg went back to thinking through what she would tell Ben. Where to start? She should tell him about John.
John hadn’t leapt immediately to her mind when Ben asked her if she still loved him. In fact, she hadn’t been thinking about John at all until after Ben had gone and left her to the solitude she’d begged him for. Much later it had occurred to her that if she could have doubts about Ben and Anne Royko, Ben might be just as uncertain about her.
Meg couldn’t deny the bond she shared with John Bissett. But it was mostly about being battle buddies. It was the same powerful bond that held them all together: Meredith, the only other woman in her unit, Sgt. Keek Miller, Pudge, and Glen the Joker who were always on the convoy runs with her. Doc Manoli and even Father McAlpin, the chaplain, were part of that tight little band of brothers and sisters.
What Ben would have a hard time with was what had almost happened in the wake of Scout’s death. What for far too many shocking, heart-pounding minutes, she had wanted to happen. That she had wanted it was going to hurt Ben the most.
