CR!93BHZ3MAHS4NVAVVWQG1QCZMZ0ZB

by Unknown

  And despite his best efforts, he was unable to connect with the people he most cared about, particularly the woman he was trying to talk into marrying him.

  But the worst torture was spending time with his godson. Unlike the adults, the boy couldn’t pretend things would get better. His sorrow stripped Dan of every rationalization and left him nowhere to hide.

  The laughing enthusiast that Dan remembered had been replaced by an apathetic, taciturn teen who responded to his clumsy attempts to jolly him along with surly distrust. Claire desperately tried to laugh it off. Lewis looked at him like he didn’t know him anymore and Dan, trapped in this agonizing caricature of himself, didn’t blame him.

  But doggedly, he kept trying.

  This morning—Sunday—they were going duck-shooting, just the two of them, like Dan had promised. He’d been up since five getting gear ready even though they didn’t need to be in position by the farm’s pond until sunrise at seven-twenty.

  At six forty-five the kid still wasn’t up even though Dan had personally set his alarm for six-thirty. On stocking feet, he crept past Ross’s bedroom door. He was staying behind. It wouldn’t be fair on the ducks, he’d said with his usual modesty, but Dan suspected his buddy felt too tempted to shoot him.

  “Back off,” he’d advised last night. “Back off nagging me to rest, back off smothering Claire, back off playing Mr. Hearty with Lewis. If I were you I’d concentrate on wooing my reluctant bride. I’ve bought you time to close the deal by saying I’d help her. Don’t blow it. I’m starting to think you don’t deserve Jo, and given how much she and I like making each other suffer, that’s saying something.”

  But for the first time Dan was suffering doubts about his ability to win her over.

  Which is why he’d fobbed her off last night. “Duck-shooting at dawn, things to organize. I’ll come over afterward, we’ll talk.”

  Jo had carried him since Claire and Lewis’s arrival, smoothing over the conversational rough spots, fff �€†illing any awkward silences and patiently accepting his physical withdrawal because as hard as Dan tried, he couldn’t be natural in front of Claire. She’d carried him and he despised himself for letting her.

  Quietly, so as not to wake Claire in the adjoining bedroom, he tapped on Lewis’s door and opened it to darkness. He must have turned off the alarm and gone back to sleep. Closing the door behind him, Dan switched on the light.

  “Ow, what did you do that for?” The boy buried his blond head under the pillow. Dan had borrowed extra beds from his mother.

  “Hey, mate, we’re going duck-shooting, remember?”

  Blinking, Lewis sat up. His eyes might be adjusting to the light but it was obvious he’d been wide-awake. “I’ve changed my mind. Go without me.”

  “But you were keen last night.” An exaggeration—resigned was more accurate.

  “I’m tired and it’s a long way to walk.” This from the kid who used to run everywhere.

  “C’mon,” Dan coaxed. “The fresh air will do you good. You’ve hardly been out of the house since you arrived.” Instead he’d spent most of his time on the internet playing RuneScape.

  The teen’s mouth turned sulky. “So you’re going to make me, is that it?”

  “Of course not.” Dan tamped down his disappointment. “But … last year you were looking forward to this.”

  “That was last year. Anyway I’ll be useless.” “You don’t know that. Besides, I’ll teach you.” “Nah, I’ll stay here.”

  Dan steeled himself. “Does it make you feel sad … because your Dad was going to do this with you?” It makes me sad.

  Scowling, Lewis flung himself on his side, hauling up the blankets. “You sound just like Mom, making a drama out of it. Not everything relates back to Dad dying. And why do I have to be his clone … with all the same interests and stuff?”

  Dan was shocked. “No one expects you to be.” Lewis curled into a tight ball. “I’m tired of people doing things with me because they feel sorry for me, all right?”

  “Louie,” Dan said helplessly.

  “You didn’t even want to invite us,” Lewis accused, his green eyes hostile. “I heard Mom tell Grandma. Our invitation came ages after everyone else’s. You only asked us because you thought you should. Dad’s the one you cared about.”

  He’d heard enough. “I’m sorry, but that’s bullshit!”

  Lewis blinked but his mulish expression returned. “I don’t care anyway.” He pulled the blankets over his head.

  “Dan?” Claire came in, tying her dressing gown. “What’s going on?” She sat on the bed and laid a hand on Lewis’s back.

  “He’s trying to make me go duck-shooting and I don’t want to,” said Lewis, his voice thick with tears, through the covers. Claire looked at Dan.

  Shaking his head, he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

  &#x�€†01C;It’s okay.” She managed a smile. “I’ll deal with it … you go.” Go away.

  Dan left the house and walked to the pond by flashlight only realizing when he got there that he’d left all the gear behind. Blue had followed him; he sent the dog home. Switching off the torch, he sat in Herman’s maimai—a hide made of wooden framing and corrugated iron covered in brush.

  Suffering alone in the dark.

  The rain began at dawn, a fine mist that softened the slowly revealed landscape, the pond, marsh and reeds. Through the hide’s narrow aperture, Dan watched ripples stir on the water, as fish broke the surface, listened to the first tentative birdsong.

  A duck flew in; planing across the pond’s surface with its webbed feet angled and wings outstretched, quacking loudly.

  The rain gathered force until heavy raindrops bounced off the water’s surface and blew under the tin roof. Within ten minutes it was running in a rivulet down one corner post, sending a black spider scurrying from its web.

  A drop landed on Dan’s head, then another, forcing him to change position. Blood returned to his cramped legs.

  I should have been there. He’d nearly said it to Claire, but Steve’s widow didn’t need the added burden of his regret. Dan buried his face in his hands.

  His mother had told him he was broken but he hadn’t wanted to believe her.

  He did now.

  Back in the Soldier’s Arms/Here Comes the Groom

  CR!93BHZ3MAHS4NVAVVWQG1QCZMZ0ZB

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  JO WAS MARSHALING her final arguments against the wedding when the doorbell rang. He was early. Taking a deep breath she opened the front door. “You’re right,” Dan said before she could exhale. “We should postpone the wedding.”

  It was the last thing Jo had expected to hear and her relief was so overwhelming, she started to laugh. “Thank you. Dan, thank you!” Dragging him inside she peppered his face with kisses. “I was so worried … I mean, I’d even packed a bag to do a runner …” She stopped because his face was drawn and tired. Defeated. Something was terribly wrong.

  “What happened?”

  He raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve screwed everything up.”

  Leading him to the kitchen, she pointed to a chair. “Sit down, I’ll make a cup of tea.”

  Instead he went to the window and looked down out on the garden, while he explained what had happened with Lewis in a flat voice.

  “So you’ll talk to him,” she said quietly, putting the kettle on. “Make him understand how important he is to you. For his own sake, not jso said ust because he’s Steve’s son.”

  He was still looking out the window and she followed his gaze. Not a breath of wind stirred the trees; it was like looking at a photograph. “Dan?”

  “Live big,” he said. When he turned, she could see his self-contempt. “Tell me, Jo, what kind of loser says that? Claire and Lewis are suffering, Ross is goddamn handicapped and Nate … who knows where Nate’s head’s at. And what do I do? Make some hollow vow to honor my dead buddies’ memories by chasing happiness. It’s pathetic.”

  “There’
s nothing wrong with lighting a beacon in the dark.”

  “If I’d been there, I would have been driving. Instead Steve died—the guy with a wife and kid. It should have been me, Jo. I had no dependants.”

  “Yes you did.” Going to him, she gripped his shoulders. “You had me, even if I was just your best friend then. And I don’t care if it’s selfish, I thank God every day that you survived, Dan. And so does your mother and your father and your sisters.”

  Removing her hands, he kissed them and brought them to his chest. “I love you,” he said. “So much. But you were right. Part of the reason I’ve been so desperate to get you to the altar is that I want to move forward. get past pain.” Her knuckles ached under the pressure of his grip. “We’ll postpone the wedding until I get my shit together. You deserve better than to be dragged through my grieving process.”

  Only Dan would see his vulnerability as weakness. No, not only Dan. She did that, too. That’s what happened when you were stronger than most people. You began to think everything was your responsibility—and your fault.

  “To paraphrase my father—” Dan mustered a smile “—sometimes backing off is the right thing to do.”

  She stared at him. Dan was a protector. He didn’t think of adversity as something to be avoided. Claire had tried to tell her that but Jo hadn’t wanted to hear it because she was afraid of relying on anyone but herself. The truth was she loved a man who could handle anything her cancer threw at them, who would be strong even when she couldn’t. All she had to do was let him. Fear released its hold on her.

  “We’re not postponing the wedding,” she said.

  It was his turn to stare. “What?”

  “We’re not postponing the wedding.” Dan wanted to be his best for her; it was in his DNA. Jo understood that because it was in hers. But she’d learned something when he’d laid his hand against her scar. I don’t care about perfect. I just care that you’re here.

  Pulling her hands free, Jo wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you,” she said. “And I need you, Dan.” Her laugh was shaky. “God, how long has it taken me to admit that? And I don’t care how you come—whole or broken. Like you don’t care how I come. Because that’s how much we love each other.”

  “I don’t want to come to you broken,” he said harshly. “I don’t want to marry you doubting my ability to make you happy. I need to believe I can slay any dragons that come up.”

  “I have no doubt you can slay dragons. None.” Releasing him, Jo picked up her bag and went to the door. “I’m due at Pinehill to visit Nan so let’s cut to the chase.” Her mouth lifted in a tiny smile. “I’ll be at the church on Tuesday. All you need to do is decide whether to show up.”

  She was halfway out the door before his shock wore off. “Of course I’m going to show up if you still want to go through with it.” He sounded truly appalled. “What the hell kind of guy do you think I am?”

  Jo thought about that the rest of the morning. He was a good strong man who found equilibrium in action and instead fate had forced him into a passive role. Destroyed his faith in his ability to protect the people he loved.

  Somehow she had to help him get that faith back. Somehow she had to convince him of hers. Because if at some level he felt he didn’t deserve to be happy, there was always the risk he might sabotage their relationship.

  And that simply wasn’t an option.

  MIDAFTERNOON JO DROVE OUT to the farm. She tracked Ross to the barn where Dan had set up some weights. “Should you be bench-pressing alone?”

  Biceps straining, he finished his reps, dropped the weight bar back on the stand and sat up, breathing heavily. His tank top was drenched with sweat. “I stay under ninety kilos if I’m by myself.”

  She handed him the towel draped on a wooden countertop and he wiped his neck.

  “You missed our boy,” he commented. “He’s driven Claire and Lewis into town.”

  Our boy. It was the first time Ross had acknowledged her as family, the first time he’d included himself on her side. All things became possible. “I know,” she admitted. “I set it up with Claire.”

  While Ross dried his face, she assessed the rope of muscle across his shoulders. “So tell me, Ice-cream, do you think you’re recovered enough to take down a man weighing … oh, I don’t know … let’s say 179 pounds?”

  His eyes appeared over the towel. “He said you’d agreed to the wedding?”

  “I have.” Jo perched on the other end of the bench press. “But we have to get him over this crazy idea that somehow he let you all down.”

  “So you want me to pound some sense into him? Believe me, if I was fit, I’d try.” He grimaced as he massaged his leg through his sweat pants. “Give me another two months.”

  “I haven’t got that kind of time. We’re getting married day after tomorrow and I don’t want this hanging over us.” She hesitated. “I have a plan.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I think Dan needs to prove himself,” she began carefully. “I think he needs to be reminded that he’s capable of great things when the people he cares about need him. And you said you’d help me.”

  He stood. “The plan, Jo.”

  Taking a deep breath, she told him. As she talked, he hauled off his damp tank top and toweled down. Even greyhound-lean through months in hospital, his frame was still powerful, muscle over bone.

  When she finished he said nothing. He could be thinking it over … More likely Ross was contemplating calling for a straitjacket and having her taken away. His expression gave nothing away.

  “There’s a high risk of failure.”

  “There has to be. Dan won’t buy it unless the stakes are high … and real.”

  Draping the towel around his shoulders Ross picked up the discarded tank top and gestured toward the farmhouse.

  “And if he doesn’t make it in time, Jo?” Together, they headed across the yard. “It would make things worse, and not just for Dan. You’d probably lose him.”

  She was well aware of that. “I believe in him,” she said. “And I’m prepared to stake everything on that faith.”

  He was silent until they reached the stoop. “I can’t do it, Jo.”

  She struggled to hide her disappointment. “Well, it was a crazy idea.”

  Ross grabbed the handrail, favoring his bad leg as he maneuvered the stairs. “Even with the element of surprise, I’m not fit enough to overpower Dan.”

  “No. I guess not.”

  Reaching the top, Ross looked down at her. “That’s why we’ll need drugs.”

  A SHOPPING MALL WAS a place Dan normally avoided, but Jo was right. He had to make his peace with Lewis, so when Claire suggested a quick coffee before he headed back to the farm he forced himself to say yes.

  She chose a table right in the middle of the food court, which intensified his uneasiness. No soldier liked to sit exposed on all sides. And what was it with these places and their acoustics? Chatter bounced off the walls and floors, amplified and echoed around the domed atrium.

  Little kids raced between the inside playground and formica tables, strollers blocked throughways and retirees paused for leisurely conversations outside doorways.

  What the hell were these people thinking?

  While Claire and Lewis found a seat, he queued to order coffees and a chocolate thickshake and thought about Jo. She’d blindsided him this morning by doing a U-turn on the wedding, and right now Dan didn’t know how he felt about it.

  No, that wasn’t true.

  He was gut-plungingly, head-swimmingly relieved she still loved him—and simultaneously terrified of letting her down. His problem wasn’t resolved, he hadn’t mastered the churning emotions that kept exhausting his reserves. And that scared Dan, it scared him to death. But for Jo’s sake he’d fake it.

  Out of the corner of his eye he watched Claire talking intently to a sullen Lewis. Even unable to hear, he knew what she was saying. Make an effort … be nice…. Pretend we’re okay.
>
  Is that how life was for them all now? Pretending?

  Lewis’s face got darker and darker, it didn’t surprise Dan when he flung himself out of his seat and walked off to the men’s room, where his mother couldn’t follow.

  “Teenagers,” she said when Dan put down the tray. “I think you’ll be glad to see the back of us.”

  They were staying with Pat tonight so this was his last chance to get this right.

  “Not as glad as you’ll be to see the back of me, I’m thinking.”

  Her eyes widened. “Of course not, I—”

  “Claire, let’s start being honest with each other.” Maybe he’d screw this up but Dan was sick of ignoring the elephant in the room. “Let me get Lewis. He needs to hear this, too.”

  The teen was outside the men’s room leaning against the wall, marking time. “I’ve had enough of this,” Dan said. “Come with me.”

  Back at the table, Lewis changed chairs to sit next to Claire. It was a poignant gesture, revealing his apprehension.

  Dan sat opposite. “Lewis, you were right this morning,” he said. “I do feel sorry for you. And having you visit with your mom hurts like hell.” Claire’s arm crept around her son’s rigid shoulders. “The thing is—” Dan kept his attention fixed on the boy’s face “—I want to make your pain go away and I can’t and that makes me feel helpless. And we guys don’t like feeling helpless, do we?”

  Lewis jerked his head no.

  “Nate and Ross and me, we’re missing your dad and Uncle Lee, too, and that means we’re not doing such a great job of being what you need right now. But we love you and your mom, you’re our family and always will be. I want to help you through this, mate, but you’ll have to tell me how. Will you do that for me?”

  “I guess,” he mumbled.

  Dan looked at Claire. “When I know, you’ll know,” she said hoarsely. “But … keep calling in the meantime.”

  He smiled at her. “You got it.”

  “You know, I might go get a muffin,” she said shakily. “I’m hungry. Anyone else want one?”

  “Sounds good,” said Dan. “Lewis?”