After the War

by Jessica Scott

  The silence stretched between them over the phone line. She heard him blow out a breath.

  “Me, either, honestly.” The quiet filled with something warm.

  Something good.

  “What do we do now?”

  “I don’t know.” She shifted again, not sure what to do with herself on this phone call. “I know I’ve got to interview Mrs. Kearney because your boss won’t accept my investigation as it stands. Which sounds an awful lot like what Major Wilson told me. I suspect she’s trying to fire me or get me to quit.”

  “Didn’t you just get to the brigade?”

  “My boss has got a problem with moms in the Army. Told me point blank that I offended her.” Sarah sighed and wished that she still worked with friends like Claire instead of with a boss who hated her and everything she represented.

  “Really? Can she even do that?”

  “Unless it’s illegal, immoral, or unethical, she can do whatever she wants. Artificial and arbitrary deadlines don’t count under any of those categories.”

  “That sucks.” Silence filled the void. “I’m sorry you have to go through this alone.”

  “Thank you for saying that.” She blinked quickly, and she heard a rustle of blankets. Her mind detoured into a very unprofessional space. “Did you just get into bed?”

  He laughed quietly. “Yeah. Are you?”

  “Yeah.” There was something illicit in that simple agreement. Illicit and enticing all at once.

  “So we’re in bed together?”

  “Ha, ha, ha.” She cleared her throat, though, as a fresh heat traced over her skin, warm and needy. “Tell me more about Kearney.”

  “Damn, and here I thought you were going to ask me what I was wearing to bed.”

  She hesitated. Only for a moment, not giving herself time to talk herself out of her next words. “What are you wearing to bed?”

  A silence that let her mind wander. “Sweats.” He paused. When he spoke, his voice was husky and thick. “Tell me what you’re wearing.”

  “Yoga pants and a T-shirt,” she said softly, her cheeks turning hot. Was she really having this conversation?

  “Sarah?”

  “Yeah?”

  “This doesn’t feel wrong to me. I just wanted you to know that.”

  She bit her lips. She’d told him when he’d kissed her that she still felt married. But she wasn’t being honest with herself because things…things had changed. Because for the first time since Jack died, she felt okay talking to another man. She felt…good. Not unfaithful.

  And considering who she was talking to, surprise mixed inside her along with everything else.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I think so,” she whispered. She heard the sleep in his voice now, the sensual awareness tinged with fatigue. “How much sleep do you get on a normal night?” she asked suddenly.

  “Define normal night?” he asked through a yawn.

  “Someone not getting arrested.” Funny how someone not getting arrested could define normal.

  “Few hours here and there. I wake up a lot. Bad dreams and all that.”

  “Yeah. I have them, too, sometimes.” She cleared her throat and dared to share her own painful dreams. “I would wake up looking for Jack sometimes.”

  There was silence on the line. So much so that she didn't know if he was still there. But she was afraid. Afraid to break the silence. Afraid of what she was feeling for this man.

  After a moment, she heard his quiet exhale. “It hurts, knowing you married him when you said no to me. I can admit that now.” He paused. “But I’m glad you had Jack. I’m glad you were happy.”

  Her eyes burned and she blinked hard, not trusting herself to speak.

  “Did you fall asleep on me?” Soft, gentle words.

  “No. I’m here.” She pressed her palm into one eye, ignoring the pain in her broken skin. “Thank you for saying that.”

  “I meant it. And your daughter is beautiful.”

  She pressed her fingers into her eyes, unable to stop the quiet sob as it escaped.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry, honey,” he whispered.

  “I know.” She sniffed, swiping at her eyes. “I loved you and we didn’t last. I loved Jack and he died. I’m afraid, Sean.” She bit her lips, hoping she hadn’t jumped the gun on his intention. “I’m terrified of feeling again.” Brutal honesty.

  “Try? We’ll go really slow. Start with lunch?”

  “I—”

  “Don’t say no. Think about it. Sleep on it. And I’ll ask you again tomorrow?”

  She nodded and remembered they were on the phone. “Okay.”

  He didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Get some sleep.”

  “You, too.”

  “No promises, but I’ll try. Good night, Sarah.”

  “Good night, Sean.”

  It was a long time before she hung up the phone and rested it on her bedside table. For the first time since Jack died, she felt cared for. That feeling, mixed with a little bit of hope, followed her down into sleep.

  As she closed her eyes, she felt Sean’s lips press against hers once more. And for once, she did not feel guilty.

  * * *

  Sean stretched out in his bed and rested one hand on his stomach. He stared at his phone for a long time after the line had clicked off, then he pressed the keypad to save her number.

  A slow smile spread across his lips. There was an ache in his blood that had nothing to do with fatigue and everything to do with the woman who’d been on the other end of that phone call. He closed his eyes and focused on the memory of her taste. Of her touch. Of the want he’d felt in her body as he’d kissed her.

  For the first time he could remember, he drifted to sleep, thinking about Sarah. Soft and warm and welcoming.

  He felt hope. Like maybe there was a place for him in this world that did not involve the war.

  He closed his eyes, want and need beating through his veins in time with his heart. He had a second chance. One that he absolutely did not deserve.

  But he was not going to fuck it up.

  Fourteen

  “Ma’am?”

  Sarah looked up to see LT Picket peeking in on her. “Yes?”

  “Major Wilson needs to see you.”

  Sarah sighed. “Do you have like a psychic connection to her or something? Or does she just e-mail you to tell me?”

  LT Picket laughed and tucked her hair behind her ear. She looked like Jessica Alba but from what Sarah heard, she was a decent shot with an M4 and turning into one hell of an officer.

  “No, ma’am. I can hear her in her office from my desk. I’m just giving you a heads up.” LT reached into her shoulder pocket. “Oh, and before I forget, here’s your ticket to the ball this weekend.”

  “Ball?”

  “Yes, ma’am. The brigade ball. Major Wilson said to make sure you had it.”

  “Thanks,” Sarah said dryly. She’d have to see if Jamie could watch Anna. Sarah stacked her papers neatly and pushed up from her desk. She could use a break from the sworn statements anyway, and if Major Wilson was talking to sergeant major about Sarah, Sarah had a good idea what it was about. She took a deep breath and walked into the hallway.

  And collided with LTC Meister, her battalion commander. “Whoa, Sarah. What’s the hurry?”

  Sarah flushed and stepped away, pulling her arms free from his stabilizing grip. “Sorry, sir. Distracted.”

  “I can see that. How’s that investigation going?”

  Sarah grasped for a status. “The lieutenant involved in the fight won’t make a statement other than the one he made to the police, and I’ve got conflicting information from some of the other men involved.” She took a step back, out of his personal space. “Shorter version: I still have to interview the wife.”

  “What’s on your mind, Sarah?”

  Sarah took a deep breath, bracing for the reality that what she was about to say might very well end her chances at commanding,
but what the hell. She wasn’t making any progress in that direction anyway. “Sir, why am I investigating a bar fight? Fifteen-six investigations are usually reserved for more serious problems than this.”

  Meister cleared his throat and jerked his head. Sarah followed him down the hall to his office. “Close the door behind you.”

  Sarah did and then walked past the conference room table that filled half his office. She stopped about five feet from his desk and stood at parade rest, her feet spread shoulder width apart, her hands resting at the small of her back.

  “The purpose of your investigation isn’t to dig into a stupid fight. The brigade commander needs to know what’s going on in that company specifically. It’s the only one in the brigade that continues to have weekly arrests or other misconduct.”

  Sarah tried to swallow, but her mouth was suddenly dry, her throat thick. “Sir, I’m conducting an investigation under false pretenses?”

  “There are a lot of problems in that battalion. Lieutenant Colonel Gilliad has already fired every company commander and first sergeant in the battalion. Hell, I still haven’t provided him with a support company commander. But this particular company hasn’t managed to get ahead of the curve with the misconduct. This bar fight is only one incident in a string of incidents—and many of them circle around the individuals you’re investigating.”

  Sarah’s stomach twisted. “Sir, this fight is about the lieutenant sleeping with the sergeant’s wife. It’s not more complicated than that.”

  Meister shook his head. “That’s more than complicated enough. That’s the other part of this problem. The lieutenant involved has some high-powered friends and family.” He paused. “The company commander has already tried to ring the lieutenant up, but he doesn’t have any evidence.” Sean didn’t have an uncle in any of the right places. He didn’t have any family—at least not any that would get his ass out of a sling if he got in trouble as a commander.

  She tuned back in on Meister’s words. “The bottom line is look beyond the fight and figure out what’s going on in that company. Get the boss what he needs.”

  “Roger, sir.” She nodded and stepped out of the battalion commander’s office. Bracing herself, she knocked on Major Wilson’s door. “Ma’am, you needed to see me?”

  “Talk to me about your PT test.”

  “Not much to say, ma’am.” The scrapes on her knees started throbbing. God but her life was a cliché.

  “Captain Anders, I’m not sure who you think you’re talking to, but your tone leaves much to be desired. You have been fired from command, you have failed a record PT test, and you continually fail to do even adequate work.”

  Sarah ground her teeth and willed her expression to remain blank. Apparently she failed.

  “Truth is rarely pleasant,” Wilson said.

  “Well, since we’re talking about the truth, why don’t we at least acknowledge that you made your mind up about me before I ever reported.” Damn it, she’d been going for tact, not sand paper.

  “True enough. But my suspicions have been confirmed.” Wilson looked up over her square-framed glasses. “Yes. I need a copy of your family care plan by Friday.”

  Sarah frowned. “Tomorrow, ma’am?”

  Wilson peered at her with something akin to distaste, pressing her lips together. “Yes, tomorrow. If it’s current, you shouldn’t have any problem with that, should you?”

  Considering she needed to update it since she’d moved away from Fort Carson and arrived here at Hood, yeah, it was going to be a problem.

  Sarah clung to every ounce of tact she could summon. “Ma’am, by regulation I have thirty days upon arriving to the unit to update my paperwork.”

  “Don’t quote the regulation to me, captain.” Wilson leaned back in her chair, the pen slapping down on the desk. Her voice was cold and calm. “Do you have a family care plan or not, captain?”

  Sarah straightened and adjusted her hands behind her back. “Yes, ma’am. I need to update it since I moved. But I can turn in the current one and take the authorized time I need after I finish this investigation for the colonel.”

  Wilson stared. Didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Just stared. “Don’t get cute. You have two weeks. Do. Not. Be. Late.”

  Sarah ground her teeth. Her tact slipped away. “Ma’am, have I done something to offend you?”

  Major Wilson picked up her pen and started writing. She didn’t even look at Sarah when she started speaking. “Your mere presence in the Army offends me. You take time off when others have to work. You leave work early when your peers are here late. You play the female card when it’s convenient for you, and then you insist you just wanted to be treated equally. I don’t play your games, captain. You will be held to the same standard as everyone else. Fairly, without regard to your status as mother.”

  Sarah couldn’t speak. Her throat closed off, squeezing tight the bitterness unleashed with Major Wilson’s words. She stood there, mute and shaking. “Am I dismissed, ma’am?” She could barely force the words out.

  Wilson nodded and went back to her paperwork.

  Sarah walked out of the office, her back rigid, her body radiating fury. It took everything she had to keep from screaming in frustration.

  She snatched her headgear off her desk and stalked toward the exit, needing to get away before her composure crumbled and she embarrassed herself at the office. She'd be damned if she was going to cry over that woman.

  “Sarah?”

  She kept walking, refusing to stop, not trusting herself to be around anyone right then. Some dark corner of her brain recognized Sean’s voice, but even then, she kept walking. Humiliation and grief burned behind her eyes.

  “Sarah! What happened?” Sean grabbed her arm, stopping her headlong flight from civilization.

  “Nothing.” She refused to meet his eyes. “I can’t talk about it right now, okay? I’m fine.”

  “You’re full of shit, is what you are." He physically blocked her escape path toward her vehicle.

  Sarah swallowed and opened her mouth. Closed it.

  “Come here.”

  He guided her to his truck and she climbed in, having nowhere else to go and needing, badly, to unleash the fury storming inside her.

  “What happened?” he asked again.

  She bit her lips together and shook her head. Finally the words broke free, releasing a flood of anger and hurt. “You know, I’ve given up a lot for the Army. I gave up a year of my daughter’s life when we were getting ready to deploy. I lost my husband. And I’m still here. All because I love the Army, it’s the life I know, and it’s the only thing that I am really good at. And that…that fucking bitch—” Sarah’s voice broke, and with it, her composure crumbled. Hot tears burned down her cheeks. “That bitch has the nerve to tell me that I want special privileges? That I don’t belong in the Army because I have a child and no husband?” Her fingers curled into a fist until her nails dug into the flesh of her palm. Her words ripped from her throat. “My husband died in this Army.”

  Sean said nothing for a long while. Then he reached for her, his hand running lightly down her back. A soothing gesture. One that spoke of intimacy and comfort. One that warmed her and chased away the bitter anger and rage.

  Sarah ran her hands over her face and sucked in a deep breath. She did not pull away. “I’ve got to go because if I don’t finish this goddamned investigation by tomorrow, I’m sure Wilson will start building my packet and get me a negative evaluation.”

  After a while he spoke. “She’s just unhappy because she found her cat on match.com looking for a new home.”

  The laugh surprised her. It broke up the furious storm raging inside her. She looked at him then, intensely aware that not only had she just completely lost her shit in front of him, but that he was still there.

  Not judging her. Not telling her to give up the life that she loved. Holding her up. Standing with her.

  And Sarah fell a little harder.

  * * *


  It was a long time before either of them moved. They sat in Sean’s truck, shielded from prying eyes. For that brief time he simply held her and pretended that they were two normal people without the war and their past standing between them.

  “Are you okay?”

  She seemed deflated. As though all the energy had run out of her. “I have to be.” Hesitant, unsure words.

  He looked at her then, taking in the tired lines beneath her eyes, the strain around her mouth. He reached for her, sliding his hand over her neck to cradle her cheek. “You don’t have to be strong all the time,” he murmured.

  Her smile was sadness and grief and the remains of a thousand unspoken emotions and it broke his heart. “Yes, I do,” she said. “I don’t get to fall apart just because my boss is being an asshole.” She paused and he wanted to gather her close again, just to take some of the weight from her shoulders. She was carrying so much, trying to be all things to all people.

  Had she been able to lean on anyone since she’d lost Jack?

  “This is the first time since I had Anna that someone has made me consider getting out of the Army.”

  He nudged her chin up. “Don’t let one woman take this from you,” he said. “This is too important for you to let her win.”

  She smiled sadly. “You never understood why I wanted to stay,” she said.

  “Why do you?” He’d never understood that part. Not when she’d told him years ago that being a soldier was important to her. Not when she’d chosen the Army over him. But now? Now he wanted to listen. To understand.

  Because she mattered. He could guess, but he wanted to hear her tell him rather than fill in the blanks. Because no matter how many brothers he’d lost, he’d never lost a lover to this war.

  “It’s the only thing I've ever been really good at.” She met his gaze. “I was fat in high school. A mediocre student at best. Figured I’d join the Army and get the hell away from all my mother’s drama. Turned out I was good at this whole soldier thing.” She looked over at him. “Then I met you and fell in love and the only thing I could see was me becoming my mother.” She pressed her lips together, hating the truth of things but needing him to know. “I know that sounds pathetic and sad and all that but it’s true. And after I lost Jack, the Army was the only thing that kept me going. I don't know how to do anything else.” She licked her lips, hesitating.