by Jo Davis
“Exactly. A list of names is already under consideration for the vacancies, and several captains in particular are being looked at to fill one battalion chief’s position.”
The statement hovered between them, and Sean sucked in a harsh breath. He couldn’t believe what Bentley was telling him in so many words. Never dreamed his name would make it onto the list, even with Bentley’s support.
“Every hope and doubt in your brain is etched on your face.” The older man leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. “Let me tell you something. You want your name to stay on that list? Shit like yesterday cannot happen again. You saved the kid, and that saved you in regard to the promotion. A mistake can be overlooked when there’s a child involved, one who’s alive because of your actions. I spun the story a tad so my successor won’t think you went off your rocker. This time. The rest is up to you.”
“Thank you,” he said, meaning it.
“Don’t thank me. Just get your goddamned act together once and for all, because in nine weeks, I’m gone. I won’t be able to cover your ass anymore, son.”
“I am getting it together, I swear. I’ll never be perfect, but I’m coming out the other side and I know I’m going to make it.”
“That’s all I want for you, to be settled and find some peace.”
He stared at the man who was his friend, and as close to a father as he’d known since his dad passed away. He cleared his throat. “That day, when I hit rock bottom and Tommy was hurt . . . you saved my life. Forced me to get help. You and Howard. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay—”
A big hand shot out, gripped his shoulder. “By moving on, being happy. By forgiving yourself for a tragic outcome you couldn’t change.”
Barely able to speak, he clasped the older man’s arm. “I’m doing my best.”
After the chief was gone, he spent more than an hour staring at the wall, waiting to be released. And contemplating everything the man had said.
Sean had never been great at handling change, and it seemed everything that touched his life was doing just that, at an alarming rate.
Everyone was growing, changing, moving on.
He just hoped he had the courage to do the same.
Right after he tapped that elusive well of self-forgiveness.
9
1991
Sean just wanted to go to bed, but a knot of men were clustered around a bunk, speaking quietly. As he neared, their conversation stopped him dead. He hovered out of sight, catching enough.
“What’s Rose into, man?”
“Word is, he’s dealing. And maybe not just drugs. Stealing and selling arms,” Wilson claimed.
“Shit,” one breathed. “How’s he doing it?”
“Don’t know. I hear Tanner’s thrown in with him.”
“No fucking way,” another hissed.
God, did they know about the meeting? Spurred by fear, Sean made himself known as the group jumped apart. Glaring at Wilson, he pushed the man hard in the center of his chest. “I don’t have shit to do with anything illegal. And as far as Jesse goes, do you have any proof? Any of you?”
Wilson raised his hands in a self-protective gesture. “No, man. It’s just what I’ve heard.”
“Right. No proof. Which is why you’re all standing around gossiping like old women!”
“Sean, we know he’s your friend, but Rose is a bad seed. Open your eyes, man.”
“My eyes are open, and I don’t like what I’m seeing right now. Don’t destroy a man’s reputation without proof, especially his, or you’ll answer to me.”
Spinning on his heel, he stalked around the corner . . . and walked right into Jesse.
“Good man,” his friend said with pride. “I knew I could count on you.”
Eve walked into Sean’s hospital room, saw him sitting on the edge of the bed . . . and giggled. “Rainbow scrubs? Aww, aren’t you precious?” It morphed to a laugh when he scowled and grumped like a little boy.
“My uniform is dirty and they didn’t have anything else clean for me to wear.”
“Sure they didn’t,” she drawled, teasing. But it seemed he didn’t appreciate the humor of being caught in powder blue nurse’s scrubs adorned with colorful rainbows and fluffy white clouds. Much less being reminded that he’d have to leave in them. She decided to give him a break. “Ready to go?”
“I was ready hours ago. Just waiting on the doctor to sign my release papers and I’m out of here. I was going to call a cab, but . . . take me home?”
She hoped she wasn’t reading too much into the unspoken question in his eyes. As though he was talking about more than a simple lift to his place. “Anywhere you want to go.”
Real subtle. She might as well stamp her feelings across her forehead. He’d said he was willing to see where things went between them, but she had no doubt he wasn’t ready to make a commitment. What it would take to bridge that gap between them, or whether it was possible, she didn’t know.
A half hour later a nurse wheeled him through the corridors and downstairs, per hospital policy, while his cheerful outfit earned giggles and a few comments from the nurses. She’d expected him to be grouchy, so his taking the ribbing with good humor was a pleasant surprise.
While the nurse waited with him at the curb, she jogged to fetch the car. After pulling it to the front, under the awning, she tossed his clothing bag and release papers in the backseat and he climbed into the passenger’s side without assistance.
At last they were under way, and she threw him a glance. “Are you hungry? We could do a drive-through on the way.”
“I could eat. I slept through dinner last night, and the rubber eggs and dry toast they brought this morning looked less than appetizing.”
“I can imagine. Burger?”
“God, that sounds good.” His stomach rumbled in agreement.
“You’ve got it.”
On the way through town, she picked up a couple of burgers, fries, and shakes at Stratton’s. He dove into the bag and had his burger and half his fries eaten by the time she pulled into the drive near his front porch.
“Here you are.” When she made no move to get out, he frowned.
“Don’t you want to come in?”
“I didn’t want to presume.”
“I might have a relapse. In that event, I’d need a paramedic to give me mouth-to-mouth.” He grinned.
“I just happen to know one of those!” Putting the car in park, she shut off the ignition. “What kind of medic would I be to leave you in mortal danger?”
“My point exactly.”
Despite their banter, she couldn’t help but remember that he might very well be in jeopardy. Whoever was tormenting him had greatly upped the stakes by tampering with their equipment. What if next time he decided to take a more direct approach? That seemed to be the way this was headed, and the idea chilled her.
“Coming?”
“Sure.”
Bringing her food, she trailed him into the house and to the kitchen. He discarded his trash and she sat at the breakfast table, noting the tired slump of his shoulders.
“You look like you could use a nap.”
“Told you I wouldn’t be able to sleep in that place.” He glanced away, a shadow crossing his expression, quickly covered. But not quick enough.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Uh-huh.” Sticking her legs out, she leaned back in her chair and crossed her ankles.
“Had a nightmare. Nothing big.”
Liar. At her arch stare, he relented some.
“Ever had one of those weird dreams inside of a dream? Where you’re lying there and you think you’re awake when something bad happens, and then you wake up for real and your heart’s about to explode?”
“I have, and they’re damned creepy. What was yours about?”
“I dreamed this guy showed up in my hospital room. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew him. I think—I know he was planning to kil
l me.” Sean lowered himself into a chair across from her. His face was a bit pale, and he seemed shaken by the recollection.
“Do you really know him? Or was he someone you just thought you knew in the dream?”
“He was someone I knew, a long time ago. My best friend from high school. We went into the marines together, fought side by side. Jesse always had a wild streak a mile wide, but for years I ignored the meanness lurking behind that magnetic personality. Jesse was brilliant, fun, a god among men. The guys followed him like the Pied Piper . . . but I discovered some were loyal to him for all the wrong reasons, and by then it was too late. When my blinders got ripped away, everything went to hell.”
The sadness and regret in his tone were tempered by a distance of many years, as they should be.
“What was he doing?”
“He started by dabbling in the drug trade and quickly graduated to stealing American military weapons and supplies, selling them to the highest bidder. Allies, enemies. Didn’t matter to Jesse. Finding out was bad enough, but the real kick in the gut was when I learned he was also stockpiling weapons for himself.”
“Building a private army,” she guessed.
“Bingo. All our lives he’d burned to leave his mark on the world, and he’d finally found a way to accomplish that.”
She could picture the type; they haunted the news on the anniversary of every tragic act of violence. America had been dealt plenty of scars left by bastards like that.
“And when you found out . . .”
His voice was bitter. “I did nothing.”
That gave her pause. “But surely you went to a superior, somebody who could help?”
“Not at first, and that was my mistake.” He stared past her head, remembering. “Looking back, there were signs all along that Jesse had the potential to turn bad. Shit I ignored or made excuses for, like when he started spouting antigovernment views. But it wasn’t until he lured me to a meeting for his first big arms deal that I knew for sure I was in deep trouble.”
“Because you were at the meeting, and didn’t act right away.”
“Yeah. Jesse was convinced I would support him and would never betray him, that I was merely misguided and would come to share his vision. When I got scared and failed to go to our superiors right away, I only reinforced his faith in me. He wanted to bring me into the fold as his second-in-command, for us to work side by side for a better America or some such crap. What he was really spewing were plans to commit acts of homeland terrorism. He shattered every illusion I’d had about him and our friendship.”
“He broke your heart.”
“Yeah.”
“And then you reported him?”
He shook himself and waved a hand at her forgotten food. “Listen to me, rambling on about ancient history. Eat while I take a shower. This grit and stink from the fire is getting to me.”
She knew her cue to drop a subject when she heard it, but she was still curious about his nightmare. “Wait. Going back to this dream, do you think it’s significant at all? Is there any chance he’d come for you now?”
The question visibly upset him, but he recovered fast. “The man I discovered he really was under the riveting facade was capable of anything. But after all these years? Why? I’m sure he has more important things to do than screw with me. Be back in a bit.”
After he left the room, she chewed slowly on her burger, thinking. That last part bothered her—someone was trying to get to Sean. She wished he had finished the rest of the story, but figured he would at some point.
Finishing her lunch, she disposed of her trash and wandered out to the living room, crossing it to hover near the hallway. She didn’t hear the shower running and thought he must be done. But he had just been released from the hospital after a life-threatening ordeal, and worry got the better of her. She tiptoed down the hallway, feeling like an intruder entering his personal domain, though she’d been here a few days before. Worry was stronger.
In the master bedroom, she paused at the sight before her. Sean lay curled on his side on the bed, dressed in nothing except a fresh pair of sweatpants. His hair was damp from the shower, the towel on the floor by the bed. His chest rose and fell in easy rhythm, a comforting and dear sight after yesterday.
The man was sound asleep.
Smiling, she toed off her shoes and crawled in beside him. Snuggled in, spooning him from behind. His contented sigh and the way his pushed his rear into her lap told her he had no objections.
Holding him close, she drifted off. Content, but not counting her chickens.
Yet.
Sean stirred slowly, sat up, and stretched. Disoriented, he took a few seconds to get his bearings. Home. His bedroom. Eve?
Beside him, her place was empty. A sharp stab of disappointment caught him off guard and he quickly shook it off. They’d had a nice, lazy day yesterday napping like spoons in a drawer. She’d refused to let him do anything too strenuous despite his insistence that he was fine.
Okay, so he hadn’t protested too much. When was the last time he’d been fussed over, even a little? No sane guy he knew would turn down some lovin’ from a pretty lady.
And where was his?
His. Now, there was a scary thought. A possessive one that came more and more frequently, as though he and Eve were a given. Were they?
He told her personal stuff he’d never shared with another living soul, not even Howard. They connected on the most intimate level two people could. Even now, he looked forward to how her smile and sass would brighten his last day off and how they’d enjoy the hours together. He was ready to leap from the bed and go hunting for her, sneak up behind her. Pounce and kiss her breathless.
The world was new, filled with promise and—
“My God.”
I think I love her.
More terrifying than any blaze, more daunting than some wacko out to drive him to drink. Because embracing what he could have with her meant moving on, leaving the memories of his family behind as just that. Beloved treasures to tuck away in a box, slide onto a shelf.
Six months ago, the guilt would’ve killed him, and now . . .
Am I ready? Can I follow everyone’s advice and let go?
He didn’t have to know today, right this minute. A classic avoidance trick he was going to employ for his sanity, for the time being.
Sliding out of bed, naked, he headed for the bathroom, a spring in his step. He hadn’t had this much sex in a single week in, well, never. His marriage to Blair in later years had consisted of a lot of cuddling and kissing; her sex drive had never been as overcharged as his, and she’d hated getting messy.
And now the amazing encounters with Eve made him feel like Rip van Winkle waking up after a twenty-year slumber. All had changed.
After a quick shower, he toweled off and dressed in worn jeans and a dark blue T-shirt. He wasn’t nearly as tired as yesterday, his throat not as sore. But he still had a nagging cough and a weight on his chest he supposed might linger for a few days. Nothing serious.
The house was quiet and empty as he walked through on his way to the kitchen, and again he squelched a shard of disappointment. Eve didn’t answer to him and certainly wasn’t his keeper, but he’d hoped to find her here. Maybe curled up on the sofa or making breakfast.
In the kitchen, he spied a slip of paper by the coffee-maker and made a beeline for it. Read it and grinned. Went home to change clothes—can’t go naked ALL the time. LOL. Coffee is set up. Be back soon. Love, Eve.
Just . . . damn. A bubble of happiness expanded his chest so much it hurt. Over a stupid little note. Love. A simple thing, yet when was the last time anyone had cared enough to write it down? Switching on the coffee, he realized he was humming. Another weird symptom of whatever bug had bitten him.
On impulse, he grabbed his jacket and stuffed a pocket with baby carrots from the fridge. Next he made three ham sandwiches on hoagies and placed those in a lunch cooler along with some chips and bottled water. Last, h
e filled a travel mug with coffee and, slapping on a lid, grabbed the lunch container, and left the house through the sliding glass door, crossing the deck and striking out for the barn. The fall day was gorgeous, leaves bursting in every tint of red, orange, and gold, and he planned to make the most of it. A certain blue-eyed woman with creamy latte skin and dark wavy hair was going to play a key role in those plans, too.
In the breezeway of the barn, he parked his mug and lunch box on a crate and strode into the tack room, fishing out two halters with lead ropes attached. He hadn’t been on a ride in far too long, and today the freedom of the lush, rolling hills was calling. Throwing one halter and rope over his shoulder, he held the other halter by the earpiece and looped the rope around his hand. As he exited the barn and headed for the gate, two of the four heads popped up and watched him curiously.
When he whistled through his teeth, Elvis and Mariah started toward him despite the halter, which could only mean being caught and saddled. They hadn’t been caught in so long, left to laze about every day, he hadn’t been completely sure they wouldn’t bolt. But Elvis was a good boy, standing still as he slid the halter over his nose and behind his ears, fastening it at his jaw.
“That’s it, big fella,” he said softly, scratching the furry ears. “Want to get out for a while, huh?” He continued heaping the praise, laughing when the mare nudged his shoulder, determined not to be left out.
Letting Elvis’ rope drop, he stepped on it and repeated the process on Mariah, who shied only a bit as the halter went on. The other two mares, who had moved away from them to graze, whinnied as he led their companions out the gate and closed it behind him. Horses were social creatures and reacted when any of their number left, greeted them when they returned. Sean had always thought it was kind of funny, but now he wondered if horses became truly distressed. He took comfort in knowing that in a couple of minutes they’d forget and go back to grazing.
