by Anne Barwell
“Didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop?” Donovan had heard her in the hallway just before Ethan left.
“Usually when you apologize to someone, it works better if they can hear you.” Heidi shook her head. “Ethan was trying to be a friend, and he hasn’t known you as long as I have. He doesn’t know, Donovan.”
“Neither do you,” Donovan mumbled.
“I know enough,” Heidi said. “I saw the difference in you after you got home from Afghanistan. Whatever happened to you over there did a real number on you.” She reached across the table, but he ignored her and kept gripping his mug. “You haven’t had a bad one like this in ages. It sounded worse than the one the other night. Any idea what’s triggering it?”
“I….” Yes. “No.”
“I’m not asking you to tell me. I know that’s not going to happen.” Heidi met his gaze, then looked away. “Maybe one day you’ll find someone you can talk to.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Heidi. You know that.” Donovan managed a shaky smile. “I just… we’ve known each other a long time. As long as you don’t know, I can pretend things are like they used to be, before…. I don’t want you to know what….”
What I did. Why it still haunts me.
“I know,” Heidi said. It was a conversation they’d had many times before. “I thought coming to Oakwood had helped. A new start and all that. It was the reason we left America.”
“It was the reason I left,” Donovan said. He put his mug down and took a couple of deep breaths. In and out. In and out. “You didn’t have to come with me.”
“I had my own reasons.” Heidi stood and walked over to the counter. She put the kettle back on to boil. “Do you want some tea? As you’re not drinking that coffee?”
“I’ll stick to coffee.” It kept him from sleeping, and he’d had enough of that for one night. “I need to get up in another couple of hours anyway. Thanks.” Donovan took a sip of his coffee. It was cold. He’d make another cup once she’d gone back to bed. “I’m sorry. I know I’m an asshole when I’m like this. I do appreciate you, you know. Not many people would have stuck to me the way you did. The way you do.”
Heidi turned to smile at him. “It’s what friends do. You stuck by me when I got into trouble, and you listened to me when I needed someone to talk to.” She made herself some of the chamomile and apple tea she kept for nights like this. “Find someone you can talk to. Don’t push people away, okay? You’re a good guy, Donovan. Don’t keep punishing yourself for whatever it is you think you’ve done.”
Whatever I think I’ve done?
He nodded and closed his eyes. “Thanks, Heidi. I’ll see you in the morning, okay? I’ll try not to wake you again.”
“Good night, Donovan.” She kissed him softly on the top of his head as she left the room. He didn’t open his eyes or look up.
“Good night.”
Another sip of his coffee reminded him it had gone cold. He refilled it quietly but didn’t sit at the table this time. Instead he stood by the window and drank it. The night outside was still, the old oak in the far field moving in a wind that didn’t exist. It did that sometimes. He’d given up trying to explain it.
It had been still that day too. But not like this. Hot and dusty. God, that dust had gotten everywhere. Sometimes he could still smell it, taste it.
He wondered if he’d ever be entirely free of it.
THE DUST from the dirt road choked the hot air. Donovan’s uniform stuck to his skin, perspiration lined his helmet, some of it dripping down the back of his neck. The Humvee shook again, its wheels protesting the holes in the road. He adjusted his shemagh around his face, but the scarf-style wrap only kept out the worst of the dust. The convoy ahead of the vehicle he rode in kicked up even more of a cloud of the stuff.
He’d been awake for what seemed like hours. Glancing at his watch confirmed the little amount of ground they’d covered. He doubted they’d gotten farther than twenty-five miles that day. The tanker trucks ahead of them stopped frequently to clear away the dust and sand that kept clogging them up. Otherwise they’d get bogged down in the soft ground.
Donovan sighed and reached for a rag to swipe down his M240 again, although a fine dust covered it as quickly as he cleaned it. The dust permeated the air, falling like a fine carpet to cover his boots and the floor.
Across from him, Tad shifted in his hard seat. Both of them were going to have sore asses by the end of the day. “Not long till the end of your tour, Don,” he said. “Bet you’ve got some girl waiting for you. She must be some looker, the way you never talk about her. Scared we’re going to steal her, huh?”
“In your dreams,” Donovan mumbled. “Thaddeus.”
“Point taken, Donovan.” Tad hated his full name as much as Donovan disliked his being shortened. “So… this mysterious sweetheart of yours. You can at least give us a first name, right?”
“No.” Donovan sighed. He wasn’t in the mood for this game today. “I’ve already told you, there’s nothing to tell. I don’t have a sweetheart, okay?”
There had been a few after Lee died—Lee had swerved to miss that drunk asshole and his bike went out of control. It wasn’t the same, though. What he’d had with Lee… he’d never found that again with anyone else. Not that he’d been looking. A bit of fun and a good fuck, that was safer, right? Heidi had told him more than once he was shutting people out, that some of the guys he’d been with could have easily been more. She missed Lee too, but had reminded Donovan that the way Lee would have wanted to be remembered was for Donovan to live his life.
Lee had been full of energy, articulate, and always talking about his dreams. Of the faraway places that lived in his head, of the scribbled scenes in his notebooks. But those had all died with him. Donovan didn’t know what Lee’s family had done with his stuff, and he hadn’t asked.
Instead, he’d joined the Marines and put it all behind him.
Or so he’d told himself. This was living, and he was making a difference.
“You’re no fun,” Tad said, but the expression he gave Donovan suggested he was concerned. For all his teasing, Tad was a good guy. However, he had no clue that Donovan was gay, and Donovan wasn’t about to enlighten him. Not with the price that information would bring if someone else found out. While Donovan trusted Tad, he knew how easily stuff could slip out—a muttered word while sleeping, or a look that wasn’t easily explained.
“It’s part of my charm,” Donovan quipped.
“If you—fuck, what was that?” Tad grabbed at thin air as the truck skidded, the driver desperately trying to keep traction.
“Shit!” Donovan jerked forward but kept his balance. Had one of the tires blown? “Incoming,” he yelled, hearing the familiar noise of a grenade.
“Contact right!” Eli called over the radio.
The truck shook again.
Donovan didn’t think, just reacted, his training kicking in. He leaned his shoulder into the buttstock of his machine gun and fired. At his back, Tad sprayed the ground with his Ma Deuce, the sound of its .50 caliber slower rate of fire echoing around them.
“It’s gone quiet,” Donovan said a few minutes later. He stopped firing, gesturing for Tad to do the same, and they both listened.
“I don’t like it.” Tad swapped his larger gun for his holstered MEU .45 pistol. “The tanker trucks….”
“Yeah, that’s my thought too.” Donovan followed Tad out of the Humvee. He shaded his eyes against the sun.
On their right side stood a small village, mud huts huddled together, its inhabitants in hiding.
Ahead, the convoy had ground to a halt. Men covered the area with weapons. The attack might have come from their right, but it could be a distraction for the real attack.
“We need to push through,” Tad decided. “If one of the fuel tanks gets hit, we’re screwed. With all that gasoline, the whole convoy will go up.”
Donovan heard an engine turn over. The truck at the front of
the convoy was getting ready to move out. Andy—Lieutenant Strom—must have already made that call. “Come on,” he said to Tad. “We need to get back in the truck. There’s nothing—”
Tad slumped to the ground. Silently, without warning.
Donovan saw a glint of metal to his left. He spun and fired his weapon. Someone screamed. A woman.
He ran to Tad and turned him over. Donovan glanced at his hand. It was covered in blood. “Tad? Hang in there, buddy. The medic….”
Ethan stared back at him with lifeless eyes.
DONOVAN’S HAND shook.
No! That wasn’t how it had happened. Tad had died, not Ethan. Ethan hadn’t been there.
Donovan felt bile rise in his stomach. He ran for the bathroom, barely making it in time before vomiting into the toilet. Perspiration ran down his face.
For a moment he’d been back there, reliving it. Reliving the nightmare that had woken him.
“Fuck,” he muttered. His memories of that day were bad enough. Tad’s death had just been the beginning of a total SNAFU….
What the hell?
“Get a grip, Campbell,” he told himself sternly. “It’s just a damn nightmare. Just another damn nightmare. He wasn’t there. That part isn’t real.”
Even if the rest of it was.
Chapter 7
“ARE YOU joining us for movie night tonight, Ethan?”
Ethan looked up from his morning cup of tea in surprise at Heidi’s question. “Movie night?”
“Yeah.” Donovan finished spreading raspberry jam on his toast. Ethan had come down to breakfast late but hadn’t mentioned anything about the previous night. It kind of figured, considering Donovan appeared to still be ignoring their conversation in the car a couple of days before too. If that was the way Donovan wanted to play it, Ethan wasn’t about to bring either of them up again either. “It’s kind of a tradition.”
“We watch a movie together once a month on a Saturday evening,” Heidi elaborated. “It’s an open invitation to anyone staying at the inn.”
“I see. So does anyone else come? From the village, I mean.” While an evening of watching something decent held some appeal, Ethan wasn’t in the mood for a crowd.
“Doug’s coming over,” Donovan said. He grinned at Heidi and made kissy noises.
Heidi blushed. “Asshole,” she said. “Don’t worry, Ethan, he’s just teasing.”
“Yeah, I’m just teasing.” Donovan blinked a couple of times, but his grin grew wider. “Doug’s well-behaved in public and at the inn. Don’t want to scare the customers off and all that. Right, Heidi?”
Heidi flicked him with the edge of her tea towel. “You’ve gone from asshole to smartass. Didn’t anyone warn you about insulting one of our brave boys in blue?”
Donovan rolled his eyes. “He’ll be off duty. Just one of us tonight. Besides, you’re distracting me from the important stuff here.” His tone changed to something very serious.
“The important stuff?” Ethan glanced from Donovan to Heidi and back again. What was he missing?
“Well, yes,” Donovan said. “We need to choose a movie.”
“What are—”
The phone rang, cutting off Ethan’s question.
“I’ll get it,” Heidi said. “You guys keep talking.” She picked up the phone and walked out into the hallway as she answered it. “Good morning. Crossroads Inn. You’re speaking to Heidi.”
“What are the choices?” Ethan asked, repeating his question but keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t disturb Heidi’s phone call.
“Depends what you want to watch,” Donovan said. “I’ve got a decent collection, but if there’s nothing there that interests you, we can hit the rental store in town later.”
“There’s a rental store in town?” Ethan didn’t remember seeing one, but then he still had quite a bit of the village to explore. “Is the library open today?”
“Yes, it’s part of the village store, and yes, but just until lunchtime.” Donovan shoved another couple of slices of toast into the toaster. “Half day on Saturdays.” He looked up toward the kitchen door. “Morning. I was just telling Ethan about movie night. You’re more than welcome if you’d like to come.”
Gary already had his jacket on and his car keys in his hand. Ethan hadn’t heard him approach. Donovan must have good hearing, but then, he’d heard Ethan in the hallway the night before too.
“Good morning, Mr. Campbell, Mr. Leavitt. Thanks for the offer, but I already have plans for tonight.” Gary sniffed the air. “Is that coffee I smell?”
“Sure is,” Donovan said. “Do you want some? If you haven’t time to stop, I have a Thermos I can loan you.”
“Thanks, I’d appreciate it.” Gary walked into the kitchen but didn’t sit down. “I’ll be in late this evening. Will that be a problem?”
“Not at all,” Donovan said. “There’s a key to the side door with the one for your room.” He grabbed a small Thermos from one of the cupboards. “How do you take your coffee?”
“Black, no sugar, thanks.” Gary glanced outside at the sound of a dog barking. “Are you expecting someone?”
“That’s just a couple of Sally’s kids walking their dog.” Donovan filled the Thermos and handed it to Gary. “They always swing by here on a Saturday morning.” He reached for the kettle and refilled it. “Heidi makes them a hot cocoa and gives them a homemade cookie each. Chester—their dog—usually gets a treat too.”
“Very neighborly,” Gary said.
Was that a hint of sarcasm in his voice?
“We do our bit,” Donovan said cheerily. If he’d noticed Gary’s tone, he didn’t show it. “Here’s your coffee, Mr. Smith. Have a good day. Thanks for the heads-up about being late. Do you want dinner kept for you?”
“No, that’s fine. As I said, I’ll be late. I’ll eat out.” Gary gave Donovan and Ethan a slight nod each. “Have a good day, gentlemen.”
“Doesn’t give away much, does he?” Ethan said as soon as Gary was out of earshot.
“Most people don’t until you’ve gotten to know them,” Donovan pointed out. “He does look a little stressed, though, and that stuff affects people in different ways.” He shrugged. “Perhaps he needed that break from work more than he thought?”
“Maybe,” Ethan conceded. “He did say it had been a little stressful.”
“There you go, then.” Donovan pulled down a couple of cups and started making cocoa. “The kids will be here soon. They don’t stop long, just enough to drink their cocoa and phone their mom to let her know they’ve gotten this far.”
“So it’s a safety check-in thing?”
“Yeah.”
Heidi poked her head around the kitchen door, phone still in her hand. “We have an extra tonight. Edward’s father-in-law has pneumonia so he’s sitting with him at the nursing home this evening. He’s asked if we can watch Mikey.”
“Sure, no problem.” Donovan frowned. “I hope Wynne’s going to be okay. Does Edward want me to pick up Mikey to save him coming out here?”
“I’ve already offered, but if you’re going into town…?” Heidi put the phone back to her ear when Donovan nodded. “Yes, that’s fine. Donovan will pick Mikey up later. One of us will text him to let him know when Donovan’s on his way. We’ll keep Wynne in our thoughts, and don’t worry about Mikey. He’s welcome to stay here as long as you need him to.” She hung up and returned the phone to its cradle. “Thanks, Donovan. I’m going outside to meet Sally’s kids and say hello to Chester.”
“Do you know Wynne very well?” Ethan asked. He’d hoped to visit Wynne Edmonds at some point, although Donovan had told him the old man didn’t know where Cathal was.
“No, but the sketches I showed you were his. That’s how we found out In Hidden Places was based on his mom’s journals. We hadn’t made the connection until after Cat disappeared.”
“That book isn’t a true story.”
“I got the impression Wynne thinks it is, but he’s not giving much
away. I went to visit him with Mikey after Tomas disappeared. Poor guy is convinced Tomas and Cat are going to bring his father home. It’s tragic, and there’s a bit of dementia in there too. One moment he’s lucid, the next he’s somewhere else altogether.” Donovan grabbed milk out of the fridge and retrieved the toast from the toaster. “Want some?”
“Thanks, but I’ve had enough.” Ethan wasn’t sure where Donovan put all he’d eaten. He had a healthy appetite, but he either had a high metabolism or burned it off. Ethan had caught sight of a very muscular stomach when Donovan had stretched to reach one of the high cupboards and his T-shirt had ridden up.
It had been very distracting, and Ethan had barely managed to hide his reaction.
“Okay. I need to do a few things around here this morning, but I’ll be heading out later to pick up Mikey,” Donovan said.
“How does Mikey cope with all of this?” From listening to Mikey talk, Ethan had come to the conclusion he and his grandfather were close.
“Better than I would. He seems to take it in his stride and just go with the flow.”
“Appearances can be deceiving,” Ethan said thoughtfully. “I hope he’s got someone to talk to.”
“Not really, which is why we try to make him feel welcome here. He’s lonely and hasn’t got any real friends his own age, and Edward’s busy with work. Phoebe keeps an eye on the two of them, always has. I think she’s an old family friend or something. Mikey’s referred to her as ‘Aunt Phoebe’ on occasion, but I got the impression it’s more of an honorific. The villagers are good people, though, and I’ve seen them rally around when they’re needed.” Donovan finished his breakfast.
“Do you want a ride into town?”
Ethan shook his head. “Thanks but no. I figured it’s time I took a break from all the research and stretched my legs. I’ll do that this morning, then catch up on some more prep work for school this afternoon.”
“No rest for the wicked.” Donovan grinned. The echo of how Donovan had been the night before had completely disappeared, although Ethan doubted whatever had provoked it was gone. He’d just shoved it back out of sight.
