The Damaged Heroes Collection [Box Set #1: The Damaged Heroes Collection] (BookStrand Publishing Mainstream)

by James, Sandy

  Joy tried to pay attention to the ceremony so she could find some relief from her melancholy thoughts.

  The organist stopped her song to pipe a loud fanfare. The small congregation stood and turned to face the back of the church. Joy mimicked their actions.

  Three woman paced slowly down the aisle, one by one. They wore lavender dresses that Joy thought were a bit much—ruffles on the shoulders, ruffles on the hem, and one bug ruffle around the neckline. She squelched a giggle, thinking they looked like big, purple carnations.

  The bride was clad in a long, white dress that had almost as many ruffles as her attendants. Her hand rested on an older man’s arm. Angie’s father was walking her down the aisle. Joy felt a sharp pinch of envy followed by a stab of hurt.

  Bela wouldn’t be at her side when she married Lucas. He wouldn’t help unbraid her hair after the ceremony. He wouldn’t give her the bread to feed her new husband. He wouldn’t drink to her happiness. Not if Lucas was the groom. Unfair! her heart cried. So unfair! Joy brushed aside her gloom and wiped away an errant tear.

  No veil covered Angie’s face, but a circle of pink summer roses crowned her head. Joy frowned at Angie’s long, flowing blond hair. Only a married woman wore her hair down and only when her parents unplaited her braid after the union. But this wasn’t a Romungro wedding.

  Angie was young. Younger even than Joy had expected. Eighteen? Nineteen? An age more common for gypsies to wed than Joy’s twenty-three. How did I wait so long?

  No wonder her father and Tamas had been pushing so very hard. They obviously felt she was more than ready to marry. Past ready. Joy realized if Tamas’s parents were still alive, she would now be a married woman with several wedding anniversaries under her belt. And a child, perhaps. Her parents would have insisted, his would have paid the bride’s price, and she would have followed her family’s wishes.

  And she would never have met Lucas.

  The happiness on the bride’s face was clear and powerful. Joy smiled at Angie as she walked past.

  As Joy turned her gaze toward the altar, she realized Lucas wasn’t watching the bride. His eyes were locked on Joy, such an intense stare she wondered what was flying through his mind. Perhaps he was thinking of another wedding just as she was. Perhaps he was picturing when they would marry, how they would marry. That notion set her heart fluttering. She gave him a nervous smile and a small wave. He smiled and nodded before turning to the bride and groom to watch the ceremony.

  Joy let her mind wander once the congregation was seated. She would have no pliashka, no family celebration to mark her betrothal. There would be no bottle of wine with its necklace of gold. Her father wouldn’t take the gold jewelry from the bottle and put it around her neck to show she was engaged. Bela wouldn’t drink the wine offered by Lucas’s father. Lucas’s father was dead. And Lucas was a gadjo. She winced even thinking the word. But that’s exactly what he would always be to her family, to her father—an outsider, nothing but a gadjo.

  Joy watched Chris and Angie exchange vows. Chris’s voice cracked, but she could hear his feelings clearly as he promised Angie many things about their future. He loved this woman. Even from where Joy sat, she could see the tears brimming Angie’s eyes as she recited her promises to Chris. These two people would make a happy marriage.

  Lucas’s gaze found Joy’s several times during the ceremony. He nodded to her with each vow as if making Joy the same pledge. She smiled and nodded in return. The husband of my heart. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health. For all the days of our lives.

  The couple turned to face the congregation and were introduced for the first time as husband and wife. The church echoed with applause and the blast of the organ. As Chris and Angie retreated, Lucas held his arm out to the bridesmaid he would escort back down the aisle. He winked at Joy as he passed.

  * * * *

  Lucas parked his pickup at the track. He was so accustomed to using the horseman’s entrance, he almost turned the wrong way when he saw the road to the clubhouse. Chris and Angie’s reception was being held in a large tent outside the main building. A steady stream of people headed from the parking lot toward the white tent.

  As he escorted Joy to one of the empty tables, he looked around at all the people he’d known most of his life. One day soon, he hoped they would celebrate his marriage to Joy just as they were celebrating the union made today by Chris and Angie.

  Joy seemed distracted, downright maudlin. He wondered for a moment if she was thinking about her own wedding, if she was still worried about her family rejecting him.

  Lucas knew now that he’d been naïve in thinking he could easily win them over to his cause. Seth had done some computer research on gypsies for him, and what he’d discovered wasn’t at all encouraging. There wasn’t a wealth of information about Roma gypsies, even less about the Romungro. But all of the pages Seth had printed out for Lucas pointed to one thing he couldn’t ignore. Gypsies were a tight-knit circle who seldom if ever opened up to allow outsiders.

  He’d offended them without even knowing he had been doing so. Seth found that gypsies themselves could use the term “gypsy,” but from people outside the culture, it was considered rude and insulting. How many times had he said that to Joy? To Janos? Damn, he wished he would have known before he made things worse.

  Joy was making plans to go to her brother’s wedding on Saturday. Lucas insisted he be allowed to drive her to Erie himself, and, even knowing he would not be welcomed by the Kovacs clan, he was going with her to the ceremony. She had agreed but had been unable to hide her reluctance to the plan. Stubbornly setting his mind to the idea that if they wouldn’t welcome him into Joy’s life, he decided he would at least get them to tolerate his presence. Because he wasn’t leaving her. Not so long as she would have him. Not so long as she still loved him.

  Pulling out a chair, Lucas helped her take a seat. “You still look tired. Aren’t you taking those vitamins I got for you?”

  “Don’t scold me, Szivem,” Joy replied with a frown. “I’m taking them.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you. I love you.”

  She stopped scowling at him, her pale face lighting with a shy smile. “I love you too.”

  “Can I get you something to drink? I’m driving, so get whatever you want.”

  “Just a soda. Please.” Joy reached for the basket of hot rolls the server had just set at their table.

  Lucas looked around. Most of the guests from the wedding had arrived, and many were already being served their meals. He hurried off to the drink table.

  Seth was just walking away with a beer and a soda. “Hey, Lucas. Katie and I are sitting over there.” He nodded toward a far table. “You want to join us? We’re sitting by Perry so Katie can talk shop.”

  Lucas shook his head. “Thanks, but we’re saving a spot at our table for Brian and Sam.”

  “No problem. Whew, I’m glad that wedding is over. How long before I have to stand up at your shindig?”

  “Who said I’d ask you?”

  Seth scoffed at him and glanced down at his dark blue suit. “If you and Joy don’t get married soon, where else will I be able to wear my Armani?”

  Lucas laughed at him. “I’ll let you know.” Then with a sly smile, he added, “Soon. Real soon.”

  Seth walked away, shaking his head and muttering something about everyone starting families. Lucas wasn’t sure what to make of that. Maybe Katie was pregnant again just like Samantha.

  Handing Joy her soda, Lucas took a seat next to her. Sam and Brian came to join them.

  “Where’s Chelsea?” Lucas asked as Brian sat down next to him.

  “Angie hired babysitters for the reception. Chelsea and Reed don’t have to endure the really bad, drunken karaoke, and I can dance with my wife,” Brian replied, reaching for the rolls. Joy passed him the basket.

  “Better than having her dance for you,” Lucas said with a chuckle.

  “Hey,” Samantha said, throwin
g Lucas a chastising frown, “we did a good job up there.”

  “And I better never catch you doing something like that again,” Brian scolded. “Ever. I don’t know what you all were thinking. I figured you had more sense than that.”

  Lucas was going to tease Joy about the little show at the bachelor party, but she appeared lost in thought, not even rising to Brian’s bait. Knowing sometimes he just needed some space, he assumed she wanted the same.

  The meal was pleasant, the conversation light. But Lucas couldn’t stop staring at Joy as she pushed the food around her plate and mostly nodded or shook her head to almost everything being said to her. This mood of hers wasn’t simply a need for reflective quiet. Something was wrong.

  As the servers took away the empty dishes, Lucas reached over to wrap his hand around Joy’s. He was just about to ask what was weighing on her mind when the DJ took the microphone and proceeded to blast their ears with silly chatter before starting the ridiculous disco songs that always seemed to accompany track wedding receptions. Brian took Samantha’s hand and hauled her out to the dance floor.

  “Want to dance?” Lucas asked Joy as he squeezed her hand.

  “No, thank you, Lucas. I’m just a little tired.”

  “So I noticed. Maybe we need to get you an appointment with a doctor or something,” Lucas suggested. The notion that Joy might be pregnant had crossed his mind a time or two. Or more. After all, they’d yet to have that discussion about birth control. Not that he minded. But he’d quickly pushed aside the idea that she was already pregnant. Joy didn’t complain of nausea, nor was she morning sick. She wasn’t eating much, either, and she didn’t seem to have any funny cravings pregnant women were supposed to get. No pickles and ice cream. And she wasn’t shoveling in the food like Sam had been lately.

  Out of concern for Joy, he’d asked Sam her opinion. Although she was a bit evasive and didn’t really answer his questions, he knew Sam would have told him flat out if she thought Joy was pregnant.

  Besides, his problems never had solutions that were quite that easy. Pregnancy meant he would marry Joy. Now. No waiting on her stubborn family to come around. Lucas would march her straight down to the courthouse and marry her before the ink was dry on the marriage license. He’d fly her to Las Vegas if he had to. Hell, he was tempted to just go ahead and marry her now anyway. Baby or no baby. But he knew she would balk because of her family.

  Mercifully, the music switched to a slower tempo song, and he finally saw Joy smile. He wondered if she knew just how beautiful she was when her face lit up with happiness.

  “I love this song. Maybe I will dance with you.” She reached for his hand. “How about it?”

  Lucas tugged her to stand next to him and led her to the dance floor.

  Sometimes he forgot how tiny she was, how fragile she seemed. It was only when she was in his arms, just as she was now, that he thought about how selfish he was being.

  She was so young. Not that twenty-six was over the hill. But Lucas knew he was well beyond that age in his attitudes and in his experiences. Joy had finally confessed her age, and Lucas knew that twenty-three was too young to have to face all that she was dealing with. Too young to worry about choosing between her family and the man who loved her.

  As she rested her cheek against his chest, Lucas wanted nothing more than to shelter her from all the bad things in life. He wanted to protect her, to keep her safe, and to make her happy. But will I be able to? Life constantly kept throwing him curves when he expected fastballs.

  The song ended and Lucas led Joy back to the table. He heard Lisa before he saw her. “Wanna dance, Lucas?” she asked as she slinked toward where they sat.

  “No.”

  “Aw, come on. For old time’s sake.” She fixed those predatory eyes on Joy. “You won’t mind, will you? I mean... Lucas and I are just old...friends.”

  Joy sighed, not sure if this was a situation she could even win. If she told the woman she didn’t want her dancing with Lucas, Joy knew she would appear to be a shrew. If she allowed it, she would have to suffer watching Lisa hang all over Lucas in a less-than-subtle attempt to draw him away.

  Thankfully, Lucas saved her. “I’m not dancing with you, Lisa.”

  Lisa’s lip pouted. “But your little gypsy girlfriend won’t mind.”

  Joy wanted to slap Lisa’s face but reined in her anger. “Lucas, you can—”

  He cut her off. “I have no desire to dance with her, Sweetheart.” He turned back to Lisa and waved her away with a flip of the back of his hand. “Bye-bye, Lisa.”

  Joy tried to stop the smile that caused her mouth to twitch. From the glare Lisa shot at her, she knew she hadn’t been successful in suppressing it.

  “Fine, whatever. You’ve changed, Lucas. Since you went to Iraq, you’re no fun. You’re an old man. Everybody says so.” She made a hasty retreat, stopping to grab a beer on the way back to her table. Joy was tempted to throw something at her.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Lucas said after he sat down next to Joy. “I can’t seem to get away from my past.” He looked away, a glimmer of hurt in his eyes.

  They clearly weren’t talking about Lisa now. “You don’t need to apologize, Szivem. Not for her. Not for anything.” Joy tried to use the chink in his armor to get him to open up. “Can we talk about it?”

  “No,” he snapped before contritely adding, “I’m sorry. I’m just not... I can’t talk about Iraq.”

  Joy leaned over and kissed his cheek. “It’s all right. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

  The explosion made both of them jump in surprise. Fireworks? At a wedding? Then another blast sent a shower of red and blue whistling through the sky above the lake sitting at the center of the racetrack.

  The crowd exclaimed its appreciation in a chorus of “oohs” and “ahs” with each new burst of color and sound. Joy was enjoying the show until she glanced over at Lucas to comment on how unusual fireworks seemed. His entire body quaked as sweat covered his forehead and upper lip. “Lucas? Are you—?”

  He shoved his chair back and ran from the tent toward the restrooms.

  Brian had been leading Sam back to the table when he saw his brother sprint from the tent to the clubhouse. “Is he okay?” he asked Joy over the roar of the pyrotechnics.

  “No. I don’t think he is,” she said with the concern clear in her voice. “Can you go check on him? Please?”

  “Sure thing,” Brian replied. “Be right back.” He headed toward the bathrooms.

  Brian could hear someone he assumed was Lucas throwing up the moment he opened the door. Then Brian began to worry that the entire crowd at the reception was going to come down with a case of food poisoning. “Bro, you all right in there?” he asked, rapping the door with his knuckles.

  Lucas’s only response was to throw up again.

  After several minutes, Lucas finally rose to his feet, flung the stall door open, and walked to the sink. As Brian watched his brother splash cold water on his face with shaking hands, he tried to figure out why Lucas had been sick. “Something you ate?”

  Lucas stared back at Brian from the mirror. “I’m fine.”

  “Bullshit. You look like hell. Was it the food?”

  “I’m fine. Leave it alone, Brian.” The chill in Lucas’s voice should have raised frost on the mirror.

  Brian felt entirely stupid. “No, you’re not fine. You haven’t been since...” He couldn’t say the word “Iraq,” not when it evoked such pain for his brother.

  “Leave it alone.” Lucas turned, slammed the bathroom door open, and stalked away.

  Brian followed and tried to catch his brother. Grabbing Lucas’s elbow, he dragged him to a halt. “I’m sorry, Lucas, but I can’t just leave it. My God, the memories make you sick.”

  He’d always been able to make it better before. Lucas was his little brother. He’d always looked up to Brian. Now Brian felt helpless.

  This wasn’t like teaching Lucas about shoeing horses or drivin
g a sulky. Those things Brian understood. War he sure as hell didn’t. There was no experience to pull from, no big brother advice to offer.

  Lucas’s gaze was harsh as he stared down at where Brian’s hand still clung to his elbow. Brian dropped his grasp. He suddenly felt powerless as he let Lucas go and watched him walk away. Lucas went to the table and said something to Joy. She got up, wrapped a white shawl around her shoulders, and followed him to his truck.

  Brian watched them drive away, hoping Joy could figure out how to help Lucas. Because his brother had just mucked it up something royal.

  * * * *

  They were inside every dark building. Hiding behind every privacy fence. Lurking in every shadow.

  Insurgents. Danger.

  Lucas could feel the coarse fabric of the camouflage against his skin, the weight of his equipment on his shoulders, the helmet strap digging into his chin. The backpack felt like a part of his body, the heaviness of the flak jacket weighed against his chest. He could even feel the pinch of his combat boots. The sounds had died down, but his nostrils still flared and twitched with the smell of the gunpowder.

  Breathe, you coward. Breathe. You’re not in Iraq.

  Glancing to Joy who sat quietly across the truck, Lucas tried to swallow the panic that threatened to drown his mind. The sound of the fireworks had sent it all flooding back as if he was back in that Hummer, as if he was driving over that improvised explosive device, as if he had just killed Brad. Again.

  You’re not in Iraq, damn it. There aren’t IEDs here.

  He needed to get back to his house, needed to know he was home. Knowing he was driving way too fast, Lucas couldn’t get any kind of control over his fear or over his memories. Home. I have to be home. But he didn’t know how he would feel once he got there.

  “Lucas, is there—”

  “Not now. I... I...can’t talk now. I need some...space. Some air.”