by Jillian Hart
Choices. That’s what a person’s life came down to. Choices made either by your own will or by God’s guiding hand. But choices all the same, she thought as she started the car and buckled her seat belt.
God had brought them together. Why? Certainly being with Ben had healed the past between them. Even softened the blow of Tom’s abandonment. Maybe that was all He’d intended.
And that meant it was enough.
Giving the worry up to the Lord, Cadence backed out, waved to Ben and drove away. She refused to watch the solitary figure in the center of the rearview mirror, the one who was watching her go.
And letting her.
Rachel startled him by laying a hand on his arm. “Things are going pretty well between you and Cadence, huh?”
He swallowed, his jaw tightening until his molars hurt. No. Things were not going well at all. “What did you see?”
“Enough. She’s a sweetheart and I never understood why you didn’t grab her and never let her go.”
“I was eighteen. What did I know?”
“Exactly. Except you’re not eighteen now. And a little wiser?”
He didn’t feel any wiser.
The gelding nickered, spotting his mistress, and Rachel loped the few yards to the board fence. Nuzzling her horse seemed to occupy her.
Ben turned away in relief. The only sign of Cadence’s presence was the faint cloud of dust in the air, settling now and fading. Soon it would be gone, and the evening would be as if she’d never been here. The evening chores would still need to be done, just like always. Nothing appeared different, which absolutely shocked him.
Because everything had changed.
Life-altering moments were like that. He’d spent nearly fifteen years hoofin’ it as a Special Forces soldier. That meant he didn’t wait for a war to happen. He’d been waging it every day. Rescuing pilots, diplomats, providing protection or medical aid in hot zones wherever he was needed.
When a soldier was shot, when a team buddy died, when a victim of tribal warfare couldn’t be saved, it was as if the world could never be right again. Something tragic and profound ought to have an impact on the fabric of the world. But time kept marching on, day turned to night and the globe kept right on spinning.
Kissing Cadence was one of those moments. It stuck with him, the surge of affection he could not hold back. The widening of her eyes as he’d drawn closer. The sensation of being lost in those big blue eyes. It had been as if a current more powerful than the river’s had seized him and his lips had covered hers.
Perfection. She was his perfect match. He didn’t need a sign from heaven to know it. He felt it, for the answer was in his soul. True love didn’t die or fade or diminish, not with time or mistakes or regret. It remained like a stubborn candle that would not let cold winds or dark nights destroy it.
But true love was only a single flame.
“Hey, I’m gonna take Nugget for a run. Will you be all right?”
Would he be? He didn’t know. “Yeah. Sure. I’m just gonna catch the rest of the baseball game.”
Rachel had climbed through the fence and was in the process of hopping onto the horse’s bare back. The sleek golden animal stood patiently while Rachel settled onto his broad back. His affection was obvious as he lapped at her knee, as if glad to be with her.
With a fistful of mane she leaned forward to whisper in his ear, and the great beast took off, loping through the tall seed-heavy grasses and wildflowers.
“Uncle Ben! Uncle Ben!” Westin burst through the screen door with a bang and pounded toward him. In one hand he clutched the snorkeling gear Cadence had gotten him and in the other, the latest video game he’d wanted. “Is it okay if we take the tent home? Please? Please?”
“Sure, buddy. You know where it is. Don’t forget your sleeping bag, too.”
“Yeah! This is gonna be so cool! Heath knows gobs about camping, too. He’s gonna show me how to build a campfire with sticks and we’re gonna make our own s’mores right there!”
The kid was so excited. Happy. That’s the way he ought to be. It was a big event, getting a new dad. Heath was a good man. He’d be a great father. That’s what every kid deserved.
Ben couldn’t explain why his throat seized up, but he was glad for his nephew. And grateful that there would be a good strong man in his life to help him grow up. Lord knew Ben wouldn’t be around much, and it cut deep.
Life. It seemed to be what other people got to live.
“Thanks, Uncle Ben!” Westin tromped off, leaving the door to bang shut behind him.
What was with him? When he’d first driven up after that long exhausting trek from Florida, it had been with trepidation. He hadn’t wanted to be here. The memories, the relationships, the ties, they just ate at him—not because he didn’t care, but because he cared too much.
His parents were here, their memories. Memories of Mom standing at the front door, shading her eyes to check first on his whereabouts and then on her horses. Of barbecue suppers on the back patio with his sisters yakking up a storm and Dad’s cigar smoke mixing with the scent of charred meat, lighter fluid and briquettes.
Of the warm mantle of sunlight and togetherness and family. Of his believing that life would always be like this. That he’d have his parents forever. He’d always have a home and family.
But life had shown him something different. It had been so long ago, the pain of their loss had faded. But it wasn’t the past sorrow that hurt him, he realized as he caught a glimpse of Rachel and Nugget at the pasture’s edge, racing the wind.
It was the ties on his heart that hurt. Because he didn’t want them. He didn’t want to trust in anything so fleeting and fragile.
Life was fleeting. Love was something you couldn’t place your hopes on. Things happened, life changed and suddenly there was no home, no family and no loved ones.
All he could do was his job, protecting them so his sisters and nephews could sleep safely at night. He made a difference.
It used to be enough.
Chapter Thirteen
“I practiced really hard over the weekend,” Ashley announced with the enthusiasm of a teenager as she perched a few yards from the end of the platform. “I did handstands until my mom said I had to stop.”
“Excellent. Then let’s see it. I’ll spot you.”
Cadence didn’t need to check the edge of the platform. She knew the feel of it by heart, backing up to the edge where the diving pool waited, nearly flawless in the late-afternoon quiet.
A few swim team members had come early, and their coach’s low murmur became indistinguishable in the giant hush of the building. She always felt a thrill being so high and knowing how wondrous it was to fall into the waiting water.
“Take your time,” she advised. Hours of practice at home and in the gym were different than on the platform. “I’m here when you’re ready.”
“Okay. I can do this,” Ashley muttered more to herself, and stared hard at the textured surface, where she would place her hands.
Cadence waited patiently while the girl bent. She placed a hand on the training harness, holding her steady. “Get your balance,” she reminded the girl.
Ashley answered by wobbling, struggling to find her center of balance. Concentrating so hard, Cadence knew, there was nothing else for her but the rough texture of the platform, the fight of strength and balance and the total calm of imagining the sequence of the coming dive.
Ashley was serious as she became as solid as a world-class diver on the edge of the platform, spotting through her hands to the water below. She tensed and sprang. Cadence made certain Ashley cleared the dangerous edge of the platform before she plunged straight down in a graceful, perfect arch. Hardly a splash marred the surface of the water.
Ashley surfaced. “That was awesome! Oh, I gotta do it again.”
Ah, the love of diving. It was a blessing on a day like this. She was missing Ben. Not that she wanted to admit how deeply he’d crept into her heart. She swore her lips still re
membered the loving sweetness of his kiss.
Don’t think about him, Cadence. Because if she thought about him, it was as if she were missing a chunk of her heart.
“Ah, Miss Chapman?”
A girl’s voice drew her attention. There on the deck in front of the women’s locker rooms was a teenager in cover-ups, looking uncertain as she clutched her towel. She chewed on her bottom lip, showing a hint of braces on her teeth.
Of course—her new student. “Hi, Jennifer. Go ahead and shower up, then pick a lane and swim a few laps to warm up. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
“Okay. Thank you.” Jennifer padded away as a woman who must have been her mom took a seat in the empty bleachers overhead.
Out of breath, Ashley lurched up the ladder. “I can’t believe I didn’t even wobble that time. I can do it again. I know I can.”
As she spotted Ashley’s last few dives, Cadence fought to keep her thoughts on her job. But the instant she waved goodbye to Ashley, her mind seemed to go into overdrive. Images of Ben in the river, when he’d thought she was drowning, swimming as if his life depended on it, his face intense. Fierce. Determined. It still stunned her. No one—ever—had radiated that level of concern for her.
Ben cradling her face and gazing into her eyes as if he wanted to spend eternity with her. And his kiss, so very tender.
Ben, his reflection in her rearview mirror, soldier straight as she drove away.
Sure, her heart was missing him, but she had to get used to it. Soon he would be leaving for good. She had to stop caring for him right now. Right here. It was the sensible thing to do. It was simple self-preservation.
Because if not seeing Ben for a week hurt this much, think of how it would be for the rest of her life.
Crouched in an uncomfortable chair in the specialist’s packed waiting room, Ben cradled the pocket-size cell phone in his hand. It was Rachel’s. In case he wanted to call home or Cadence, she’d said with a knowing wink. Well, he’d call home when he knew the final opinion on his leg and he’d call Cadence when he got up the courage.
Her number had been mysteriously programmed into the phone—proof that Rachel had been scheming in a nice way—and he was looking at that number on the display, which he’d pulled up. All he had to do was hit the dial button and the phone would connect and he could hear her voice. Talk to her.
And then what? He punched off the power button and slid the phone into his pocket. It wasn’t as if they had a future. It wasn’t as if he could ask her to give up everything, marry him and move to Florida. Where she’d be alone for most of the year worrying about what he was doing, if he was safe. It wasn’t as if that was even a remote possibility. Right?
He checked his watch—four-thirty. He’d been waiting for a one-o’clock appointment. Not a patient man, he forced himself to sit there and grab another sports magazine. It was last month’s, but he snapped it open anyway. For the billionth time the receptionist started explaining to the latest arrival that the doctor had been called to emergency surgery and if she wished to wait…
Yeah, he was about finished with waiting, but he knew what the base docs had to say. He’d consulted his hometown doc, who’d done some research and come up with this guy. He’d better be worth the wait, Ben thought as he flipped through pages, the phone a weight in his pocket he forced himself to ignore.
Cadence grabbed her duffel and the plastic sack of groceries she’d picked up on the way home. She had two more days until payday, and her funds were pretty thin. It was a good thing she loved mac and cheese. It was easy, quick and on sale, the perfect combination. Plus, she’d been able to squeeze in a pint of her favorite ice cream without breaking her budget.
Another wildfire outside the city had gained a hold in the foothills and the city was rank with smoke. Her eyes stung and her lungs felt scratchy as she hurried the short distance from her assigned parking spot to her front door.
The sinking sun bled across the hazy sky, an eerie sight, and she was glad to get out of the heat and smoke and into the quiet of her hot town house. She deposited the bags on the table and went straight to the thermostat. A few degrees made the unit kick on and wheeze out some cooler air.
Alone, she grabbed the TV remote, clicked on the local news. While it droned in the background, she listened with half an ear as she put the milk and ice cream away. Through the little window over the sink she saw the neighbors two units down on their way from their car to their door. The married couple walked with their little boy between them. His dark hair was askew and he had blue finger paint streaked across his white shirt. He tromped along with supreme confidence between the two people who loved him most.
Her heart broke with want. Her kitchen echoed with her movements as she slid a blue box onto the counter and put the others away in the small pantry. She had so many blessings, ones she truly treasured, and she shouldn’t be looking to the ones she didn’t have. No good could ever come from that.
But she wished, how she wished, that Ben would call. True love—how she ached for it in her life. And, it seemed, it had passed her by again.
She listened for the phone, as she’d done every evening since he’d left town. Hoping. Of course he was busy. He was visiting friends, seeing health care providers and maybe even seeing a baseball game. She was glad for him that he got to enjoy himself before he went back to the war.
The national network news was on, showing a harsh, arid-looking shot of urban fighting. Of American soldiers who’d been attacked. Listing the names of the two marines who’d died.
Thank You, God, for men like Ben. She tucked her sadness aside, and when she sat down to her plate of creamy mac and cheese and a favorite syndicated rerun on TV, she bowed her head for grace, and wound up praying for Ben. Please, Father, let him get good news about his injury. Let him return to the job he loves.
The phone remained silent all evening. And for the next two evenings after that. It seemed God might have answered her prayer after all.
“What do you mean, you agree?” After waiting another day and two hours today to be squeezed in for a five-minute appointment, Ben had fought with frustration all morning, but now…now it was worth it. “You think I can return to active duty?”
“Not today, dude.” One of the most respected orthopedic surgeons on the West Coast looked as if he ought to be out on the beach catching a wave instead of peering at MRI film. “It’s never gonna be one hundred percent, but who is? I’ve got some names of some totally cool rehab therapists. I don’t know what you get in the military, but I promise you, dude, these ladies are world-class. They know how to get results. Come back and see me if you run into trouble.”
“I can’t thank you enough.”
“Hey, you hung in there waitin’ for me.” The renowned specialist loped off, calling for his nurse.
The efficient woman came with the promised therapists’ names, a prescription and samples of an anti-inflammatory drug. Unbelievably, Ben was on his way.
He felt ten times lighter as he waded through the waiting room, which was still packed. As soon as he was outside, it was all he could do not to shout, “Hoo-yah” and give his colonel a call. But first he grabbed the phone, scrolled through the programmed numbers and hit the button. It rang four times before an answering machine picked up.
“Hi, I can’t take your call right now.” The sound of Cadence’s voice, cheerful and resonant, made his throat tighten. The places in him that filled with light when he was around her stung with emptiness.
“Please leave your number so I know you’ve called.”
He disconnected before the beep.
I miss her so much. His entire spirit ached with longing he could no longer deny. He wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t. He was a man, a soldier, a PJ. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t do if he tried hard enough.
But the agony that welled up from his soul at the sound of her voice and the disappointment of not being able to talk to her defeated him. He had to fight down
the urge to race home, knock on her door, pull her into his arms and hold her as tight as he could as long as he could. Forever. And never let her go.
Overwhelmed, he snapped off the phone. As if he could say that to her. He wanted what he couldn’t have. He didn’t even know if she felt this for him. What was it she’d said about love? True love has to go both ways for it to work, or something like that.
Life hadn’t been this complicated before. He’d never wanted anything so much. Just Cadence. He felt weak with it. Strong with it. Confused. He’d never felt so mixed up and torn up and sure at the same time.
He didn’t only want to see Cadence the instant he stepped foot on Montana soil. He wanted her to have and to hold for the rest of his life.
And there was no way he was going to be able to have that.
Ben’s coming home today.
For the ten billionth time Cadence shoved that thought out of her mind as she climbed out of the diving pool. It was payday. She had a bunch of errands to do. A stop at the bank. A few bills to pay. Groceries—which meant something other than mac and cheese tonight. And she had to do her laundry. She’d run completely out of towels. Those were the things she ought to be thinking about instead.
But what was the next thought that filled her head? Ben’s coming home today.
Stop! she commanded, mentally shaking her head. She was setting herself up for absolute devastation. There was no reason to think Ben was going to rush right over here from the airport, wrap her in his arms and confess his undying love to her. He’d gone to seek second opinions on his recovering injury. He had plans and a future, and it wouldn’t be here in Montana with her.
What had he said to her the day he’d brought dinner to her house? Not many men with my job marry. I watched buddy after buddy of mine bail out of the PJs. I had to make a choice.
That was answer enough. She padded past the platforms and hopped onto the springboard, loving the spring and bounce of it beneath her feet. She trusted it like an old friend as she hopped around on the edge, relaxing her muscles as the board sprang beneath her weight, settling.
