by Jillian Hart
There was nothing like braving the wilderness in your own backyard.
Rachel stood in the slider door, drawing it open, the overhead light falling softly around her. “I’ve got a treat fresh from the oven and marshmallow cocoa to go with it.”
She laughed as Westin dropped the sleeping bags on the cement, torn between setting up the tent and eating sweets. “Finish setting up first, then come get the goodies, like real campers.”
“’Kay!” Westin seized his bag and Ben’s old one, and struggled with his burden across the back lawn.
A strange sense of déjà vu clicked over him as Ben watched them. Time was a funny thing, how it marched on and on without stopping, and yet there was a pattern to it. A cycle of life that somehow remained, if not the same, then similar.
He remembered this from his boyhood: Mom at the slider offering treats and Dad finishing up the tent. As a grade schooler, Ben had helped his dad set up, carry out the gear and roll out the sleeping bags. It was a dear thing, remembering how Dad had talked about tenting it with his dad. Granddad was gone. Dad was gone. And yet the cycle continued.
Cadence, the families he’d seen today, the uncertainty and trauma following his combat injuries—it was all adding up, making him take a look around, as if he could second-guess his choices.
Westin was struggling with a knot in the sack encasing his bag.
“Hand it here.” He waited for the boy to nudge the bundle over and he took it, worked at the knot and handed it back. “Let’s get these bags unrolled. I don’t know about you, but I’d like some of Rachel’s cookies.”
They worked side by side, squeezed in the open flap of the pup tent, each on their side, rolling out their bags. For Ben, all it took was a flick of his wrist and his bag unrolled on its own.
But Westin was new to this, and the best way to learn was to do. He waited patiently while his nephew crawled on all fours to unroll his bag. He’d thought that having a son would sure be nice—it would be something like this.
Then again, how could it be when he’d been deployed nearly constantly for the past two years? Any wife and son he would have he’d see just as much as he saw his family here—a few holidays. Maybe a week here or there.
And then he’d be off with his M-203 and his squad, sleeping in places that made this little setup with the pup tent look like luxury.
“Uncle Ben? Do ya think my new dad’ll know how to put up a tent?”
“You ask him and see, buddy. Your new dad seems all right.”
“He’s real nice and he makes Mom smile all the time. And he knows how to play baseball.”
“Important stuff.” Ben tried to swallow past the knot in his throat, but couldn’t.
He tried not to think of more time passing. Of Westin and his new dad playing ball and camping in the backyard. Of them doing all the things a father and son ought to do.
Who knew the next time he’d be home again? Westin would be older, probably in Pee Wee football and church activities and he’d be calling Heath not “my new dad,” but “my dad.”
As it should be. But the time it was passing, and in Ben’s life it was just another day. And another day. With no love to give it value.
Westin ran to the house full speed, to where Rachel waited, watching over him, ever the loving aunt. She leaned forward to chat with him, her eyes shining, looking so much like their mom it seemed to make everything worse.
Whatever he was longing for, he could not name it. He could not have it. He could only watch, heart laid open, as Westin accepted the brown paper grocery bag as if it were made of pure gold.
“Thanks, Aunt Rachel!” Westin’s excitement echoed across the layers of the night.
“You’re welcome, cutie.” Rachel stood watching as the boy raced away from her, searching through the shadows until she caught sight of her big brother and waved.
He waved back. He watched as she tipped her head up to study the night sky, what little of it she could see from the glare of the inside lights.
“Uncle Ben! Look what we got! Aunt Rachel made s’mores for our cookies!”
“S’mores? All right.”
Then Rachel called out, pointing upward. “Look! A falling star.”
Ben spotted the flare of light winging across the velvet sky in an arc from heaven to earth. Memories welled, more images he did not want, more emotions he did not want to feel.
“That’s not a falling star, Aunt Rachel,” Westin, the resident astronomy expert, piped up with all the authority of his seven years. “It’s just junk. Stuff like dust ’n ice and space chunks smashing into us, and our atmosphere burns it up.”
“It’s not romantic to wish on burning-up space chunks, Professor Westin.” Rachel watched, waiting, until the streak of fire disappeared. “Besides, what else is there to wish on? When I was a little girl I used to wish on the first star of the evening, until your uncle Ben told me it wasn’t a star at all but a planet and ruined that for me.” She winked. “You two let me know if you need anything.”
After wishing Rachel good-night, Ben tried to turn off his brain. Fiercely tried not to think of holding Cadence’s hand and seeing their shadows joined. But it was hopeless. All through eating the s’mores and drinking the frothy cocoa and listening to Westin talk, at the back of his mind those thoughts remained.
And what good were those thoughts? They could only make him discontent. Soon he’d be back where the star-filled skies were lit up with tracer fire, and the rapid pop of automatic weapons peppered the night. He had his future decided. He had his duty to fulfill. He’d signed away his life to Uncle Sam.
Chapter Eleven
Friday was a crazy day, with it being the end of the swimming session. The kids were full of energy because the day was devoted to games appropriate for each class. Cadence watched Westin leap into the water and race with a kickboard the width of the pool, gaining ground for his relay team.
His classmates were shrieking, and she was calling encouragement to the swimmers as they struggled through the water. Weston was still very nervous of water. She could tell by his tension, but he was too much like his uncle to outwardly show it. He climbed out of the pool, handing over the board to Jacob, the last in line, who plopped into the pool and kicked with all his might.
The entire pool complex radiated noise—the three other graded beginner classes were having races, too, and the spectators in the stands added applause, stomping and cheers to the din.
The last day of classes was always Cadence’s favorite. Her students had improved. She taught them important water safety all through the session, and seeing her kids having fun swimming made her proud. Everyone needed a purpose in life, and this was hers.
“Okay! Jacob and Kaylie, please stack the boards for me…and walk, don’t run! Thank you.” She grabbed her towel and hung it over her shoulders. “Here are your report cards. All of you were so awesome.”
To each student she handed out the cards written in permanent ink and their guppy badges. She watched them walk off to the locker rooms, where their family members or caretakers waited.
She’d meant to find Ben in the stands, but she hadn’t seen him. The other members of the McKaslin family—Westin’s mom and his new dad, Paige and Rachel—had shown up to help celebrate the last day. But as she scanned the stands, she saw they were gone.
Westin’s lessons had come to an end. She knew that he hadn’t signed up for the next session, which started on Monday. Remembering their kindness in the baseball park made her heart ache. There were plenty of good people in the world—she knew exactly how valuable they were.
When Ben’s medical leave was done, then she’d make an effort not to lose touch with the McKaslin girls. There was always the chance of catching Westin’s T-ball game if it didn’t coincide with hers tomorrow. And there was no reason she couldn’t take them up on their offer to stop by the diner just to say hi.
“Are you outta here?” Peggy asked, out of breath, on her way to her advanced class
waiting quietly on the bench near the deep end. “Be sure and stop by the front desk.”
“Why? Hey, I turned in my paperwork.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t.” Peggy’s eyes twinkled as if she had a secret. “Just do it. I’m your boss. Do what I say.” She winked and padded on, her attention already turning to her students.
What was that all about? Cadence wondered as she grabbed her clipboard and headed to the office. It was chaos—the last day always was. Moms and caretakers were there signing up at the last minute for Monday’s session and the phone was ringing off the hook.
When she reached to pick up a line, the office manager, Sharon, gently nudged her away and pointed past the counter that looked out into the main area. There were friendly faces smiling at her—and waving. The McKaslins!
Her heart warmed as she waved back. She would get to say hello to them after all. She sneaked through the back door to avoid the crowd.
And that’s when she saw Ben standing to the side holding a beautiful stained-glass vase brimming with cheerful yellow roses. There had to be two dozen of them, each bud tight and perfect, like drops of sunshine.
“For you,” Ben said, and although they were in a crowded public place and his sisters were approaching and talking, all Cadence could see was Ben. The intimate look in his eyes that said he was glad to see her again.
Memories of their talk together and of their walk rolled through her head. The comfortable feel of her hand in his. The knowledge that it was enough just to be together. The unspoken hope she couldn’t hold back. A wish that made no sense, for nothing had really changed. And yet the wish remained, for the heart had no logic, but a wisdom of its own.
The man Ben had become awed her, and it was as if the new room that he’d opened within her soul filled with the brightest light.
“We’re so grateful to you,” Amy was saying. “I never thought I’d see Westin back in the water again, and he so loves to play in the river. I wouldn’t have tried swimming lessons so soon if it hadn’t been for you.”
Cadence blinked, forcing her gaze from Ben’s, trying to make her brain think of normal things. It was way harder than it should have been. “Westin is the one doing all the work. He’s made great progress. I graduated him to the second beginner class.”
“We saw.” Amy beamed with motherly pride. “And you did make the difference. Westin knew you were a friend of ours, that he could trust you. We didn’t know of any other way to thank you. It was Ben’s idea.”
“Ben’s, huh?” She saw the truth in his eyes. He was a thoughtful man—that didn’t surprise her—but it was nice to be on the receiving end. Very nice. “Westin is a great kid. It was my pleasure to have him in my class.”
“What are you doing this afternoon?” Rachel said, stepping forward, her eyes sparkling. “Say around four.”
“I’ve got some private lessons until then.”
“And it’s what, a twenty-minute drive to our place from here?” Paige seemed to pick up on Rachel’s lead. “That would work just fine. We won’t be barbecuing until five.”
“Westin’s party.” Ben leaned forward, dipping closer to explain. “Amy promised him a party if he stuck it out. He decided on burgers and ice cream cake. We’re going to surprise him with presents. Make it a real celebration.”
“You’re his teacher—he expects you to come,” Paige added.
“He’d be hurt if you didn’t,” Amy argued.
“Besides, you’re a friend of the family.” Rachel caught her by the hand and squeezed, a silent offer to renew their old friendship.
Could it be that her lonely days were over? That wish rose up within her, gaining height. Ben caught her hand in his, his touch like a question, one he could not ask.
And her heart answered instantly, irrationally, yes.
Ben knew the moment she arrived. There was a change in the air, like a shift of wind. Except that it came from inside him. As if the currents of his soul were pulled by her nearness, the way the moon tugged at the ocean tides. He was waiting to fill his eyes with the sight of her. And he wasn’t disappointed. There she was appearing through the slider door and onto the sunlit patio.
She came!
Excitement punched hard in his chest, too hard to ignore or deny. He hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted to see her.
She was dressed in a green blouse that made her blue eyes bright, crisp khaki shorts and sandals. Small, stylish sunglasses were pulled up on her head, holding her hair back from her face. Her hair was down from its usual ponytail, falling free around her shoulders, glinting blue-black in the direct sunlight.
She held a package in one hand, wrapped in festive paper and topped with a matching bow. While everyone called her name in greeting from the riverbank at the far edge of the lawn, she looked at him.
When her gaze latched on to his, brightness filled him and he could not look away. He was hardly aware of climbing up the bank and into the softer, hot grass of the yard. His feet could do nothing else but take him to her. His senses could do nothing else but become filled up with her. She was infinitely lovely to him. And her voice, when she spoke, was the most welcome of sounds.
“It is so good to see everybody,” she said.
“Come on and join us!” Paige called from the floating cushion she’d tethered to the small wooden boat dock. “Pull up a cushion and come cool off. It’s too hot over there.”
“Yeah,” Amy called from the shady dock, where she was stretched out reading alongside Heath. “There are extra towels on the picnic table.”
Ben realized that he was halfway across the acre-sized back lawn. He’d left the pleasant shade, and the intense sun sizzled on his damp skin. He stepped on a small rock that ground into the bottom of his foot, but even pain slid into the background compared to how he felt when Cadence smiled at him.
“Rachel let me in,” she explained to him as she snatched a big worn beach towel from the dwindling pile on the crowded picnic table.
“She said you were going to do presents later for Westin, but I got him something he might like now. Especially since I can see him in the river.” She lifted her hand to wave in response to Westin’s wild, long-armed wave.
“Let me guess. Something for the water?”
“Yep. Oh, it’s so good to be here. Remember all the lazy summer days we spent in this river?”
“I remember. There’s no better way to beat the heat.” He fell in stride beside her, taking the towel to carry for her.
She squinted her pretty eyes at him as if trying to figure him out and slid her sunglasses down onto her nose. “It was nice of your sisters to invite me.”
“Hey, I invited you, too.”
“I’m ignoring that fact.”
“Why, don’t you trust me?”
Now, how did she answer that tricky question? Cadence ducked it entirely. “The government seems to trust you enough. Speaking of which, you’re walking pretty well. The swimming is helping?”
“Yeah. I’ve been adding weight training and am gonna add some biking.”
“Good. Start coming to the morning swims, will you? You don’t need to avoid me. I’m not trying to change your life. I’m not trying to do anything.”
“Yes, but you’re doing it all the same.”
Was it her imagination, or did he dip closer, as if he were tempted to press a kiss to her cheek? Automatically she turned toward him, her mouth softening, wanting this strong, good man’s kiss.
And wishing she didn’t want his kiss.
But Westin came splashing out of the river, his hair shaped to his head, dripping water. “Cadence, is that for me?”
“Hey, way to go on the manners, buddy.”
Cadence laughed. “It is. I got it because you’re such a great swimmer. Why don’t you open it, so you can play with it?”
“Wow. Thank you!” Westin eagerly took the package despite various comments on his manners, but Cadence was glad to see him happy. He’d been splashing and wad
ing along the sandy bank, and that was a good sign after what he’d been through. She’d chosen his gift accordingly.
“You’re spoiling him,” Ben whispered in her ear. “Which is good, because we don’t spoil him enough.”
“You’re pretty lucky to have him. My sister and brother haven’t married, and so I have no nieces or nephews. I have to compensate for my lack somehow.”
“Sure, you can’t fool me, Cadence.”
His words were tender, his smile gentle, but she could feel him thinking I know what you want. A family of her own wasn’t too much to ask, but she’d learned enough life lessons to know that all things happened—or didn’t happen—in God’s time.
“You’ve always had a soft heart,” he said instead, surprising her.
Tears smarted in her eyes and she blinked hard, grateful for the dark shades that hid her emotions from his sharp gaze. Nobody knew her the way Ben did. She feared no man ever would. What had he said about true love? There’s only one of those in a lifetime, and I’d already missed the chance at mine. Was it true? Had they missed their only chance?
Something told her they had.
“Cool!” Westin held up the kid-sized mask, snorkel and fins set. “Wow, this is awesome. Thanks, Cadence. Now I can be more like Uncle Ben! This is what you gotta wear, right, Uncle Ben?”
“Yep. That’s like scuba gear. Let’s get you fixed up, buddy. Hold up your foot.”
Ben took a flipper and loosened the strap as he knelt. Westin stuck out his left leg, wobbled and grabbed his uncle’s shoulder for support.
Cadence watched, aching in a way she didn’t understand as the big man slipped the wide plastic fin onto his nephew’s foot. He strapped it up and did the same for the other foot. Every movement Ben made was caring, and the sight of that caring made the ache within her swell into an unbearable pain.
He would make such a great dad. He’d talked about wanting kids. Wanting to love and be loved.
She had to look away, grateful that Rachel was hurrying across the lawn holding an insulated oversize cup. She had a reason to break away and swallowed hard. She made sure none of the poignant emotion of longing and emptiness showed on her face or in her voice.
