Returning to Eden (Acts of Valor, Book 1): Christian Military Romantic Suspense

by Rebecca Hartt

  Shaken and bewildered, Jonah continued toward his home. He was climbing the stairs to the door when the Jaguar turned into the driveway and Eden jumped out. Pausing in his ascent, he watched her round the vehicle in the outfit she’d worn to work—colorful spandex capris, a matching pink jog bra, and a lightweight warm up jacket. She looked so fit and spunky with her hair in a ponytail that he let go of the leash and descended the steps to greet her.

  “Hey, can you help me?” she asked, rounding the car to lift the lid of the trunk.

  “Sure.” Figuring she had groceries, he was surprised to see two huge leaf bags in the back. She hauled one out and dumped it into his arms.

  “These are your uniforms,” she said. “I got them back.”

  “From the thrift store,” he realized as she hefted the larger one in her own arms and still managed to shut the trunk.

  “Yeah.” She looked like she might say more, then sent him a grimace and brushed past him to head to the steps. “Did you get through to Miriam?”

  Jonah tore his gaze from Eden’s toned backside. “Er, no. She didn’t answer, so I sent a text. I don’t think she’s responded,” he added, recalling he carried his phone in his pocket. “We should go get her.”

  “I’m sure she’s on her way.” Eden greeted the dog and pushed the unlocked door open. She carried her bag to the sofa, and Jonah did likewise, dropping his load next to hers.

  He immediately broke into it, pulling out a Navy Working Uniform with multi-color digital print camouflage. He was pleased to recognize it, even though the patch bearing his name had been removed. He tried not to think about how she must have felt in the first place, donating her dead husband’s uniforms.

  “She’s with a guy all day long and you’re not worried?” he asked, holding the soft fabric to his nose and smelling a scent he associated with Spec Ops Headquarters.

  “Ian is her best friend. He doesn’t think of her that way.”

  Jonah lowered the jacket he was holding. “He’s a fifteen-year-old guy. Trust me, he does think of her that way. Besides, she hasn’t done any reading yet today.”

  “Well, that’s true, and school starts in less than two weeks.”

  “Let’s go pick her up,” Jonah suggested. “She shouldn’t be riding her bike in the storm.”

  Eden glanced out a window. “Okay,” she agreed with a shrug. “But you know, she’s still mad at you for what happened last night. Maybe I should retrieve her myself.”

  Jonah started for the door. “If she’s still at Ian’s, I want to meet him.”

  “Technically you’ve already met him,” he overheard her murmur as she hooked her purse strap over her shoulder.

  Jonah kept his mouth shut. As he stepped out of the house, a moist breeze buffeted him. The sky was going to open up at any minute.

  “Can I get a key to this house?” he asked, as Eden locked up behind them.

  She cast him a quick look. “Sure.”

  “And log-in information to our bank account. I assume we share an account?”

  She hesitated a split second. “Yes,” she said again, as they went down the steps together. “Of course. I’ll give you that when we get home.”

  They jumped into the car just as the first fat raindrops pelted the earth. In silence, they drove with the windshield wipers beating frantically to counteract the deluge.

  They drove clear to the other side of Sandbridge without coming across Miriam on her bike. At last, Eden turned into an empty driveway. Jonah eyed the brick rancher, noting the weeds that overran the garden and two shutters that were hanging askew.

  “Who does he live with?” Jonah asked as Eden put the car into park.

  “His mother. He has an older brother who just moved out.”

  “Looks like Mom’s not home. I’ll go get Miriam,” Jonah volunteered, exiting the vehicle.

  One glance at the doorbell informed him it wasn’t working. Jonah rapped his knuckles on the door.

  A long silence followed his knock. He glanced back at the car, sharing a look of concern with Eden through the rain-specked windshield.

  At long last, a soft footfall heralded the approach of an occupant. The door swung open and there stood Miriam with the house plunged in darkness behind her, her eyes wide and full of trepidation.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  Jonah caught a whiff of cigarette smoke clinging to her clothing. He inhaled slowly through his nose, making certain it was coming off her before reacting.

  “You should have been home a while ago,” he explained, keeping his conclusions to himself.

  Miriam brushed the hair out of her eyes. “I know, but then it started storming, and I didn’t want to ride my bike in the rain.” The expression on her face was decidedly wary.

  “We’ll take you home now,” Jonah offered. “The bike can stay here.”

  She stared at him with a shuttered expression. “Okay. Let me go tell Ian I’m leaving.”

  “I’d like to meet him.” He let the tone of his voice convey he would accept no alternative.

  Her chin went up. “You’ve met him before,” she insisted.

  “So I’ve heard, but I don’t remember,” he said succinctly. Reaching into the strange house, Jonah flipped three light switches at once. The light on the stoop did not come on, but the light on the living room ceiling did, along with a lamp in the corner. Both of them lit up a room that was slovenly at best, with trash littering the coffee table and several pairs of boy’s shoes lying about.

  “Now you won’t trip,” he said, explaining his actions. The fact of the matter was he wanted to see where Miriam was spending her time.

  Without a word, his stepdaughter disappeared down a hall that clearly led toward the bedrooms. Jonah looked back at Eden, lifting a finger to indicate that this would take a minute longer. He stepped into the tiny foyer, leaving the door open behind him. The smell of cigarettes was stronger inside the house, leaving little question as to who had been smoking.

  A minute later, Miriam appeared again with a gangly redhead in tow. The boy was just starting to grow toward manhood, relieving Jonah’s fears a tad bit. He approached Jonah with his hands shoved into his pockets and an inability to look Jonah in the eye.

  “Hi, Mr. Mills,” he mumbled.

  One point for greeting him by name.

  “Ian,” Jonah countered, holding out a hand and forcing the teen to shake it. “I hear we’ve met before.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ian glanced to Miriam for help. She was edging toward the door, clearly eager to pull Jonah away.

  “I noticed you two have been smoking. Just cigarettes, I hope.”

  Ian’s mouth fell open.

  Miriam stilled and angled her jaw at him. “You think I’d smoke weed?” Her tone sounded offended.

  “Nope.” Jonah shook his head definitively. “But then I wouldn’t think you’d smoke cigarettes either.”

  “She didn’t.” Ian came to her defense. “That was me, I swear.”

  Jonah looked to Miriam for corroboration, but she merely pressed her lips together and glared at him. Considering the two teens together, Jonah sighed and crossed his arms.

  “Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll bring myself to overlook your lack of judgment provided both of you work for me tomorrow. We’re going to sand the deck, starting at o’nine hundred.”

  He looked Ian in the eye. “Can I count on you to show up, Ian, or do I need to have a talk with your mom?”

  Ian visibly paled. He and Miriam shared a private look before he answered, “Sure, I can work.”

  “I’ll even pay you,” Jonah added, feeling generous. He would know after checking his online bank account how generous he could afford to be.

  Ian looked back at Miriam and shrugged as if to say, What choice do I have?

  “Great. We’ll see you tomorrow,” Jonah said. “Come on, Miriam. Your mom’s waiting.”

  “Bye, Ian,” Miriam muttered as she followed Jonah outside.
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  The rain had let up slightly, but they still had to splash through several puddles to get to the car. Miriam cast Jonah a searching look as he opened the rear door for her.

  As they shut themselves in the car with her, Jonah expected Eden to smell the evidence on her daughter’s person, in which case he would let Miriam defend herself. However, with the defroster blowing cool air from the front of the car to the back, Eden apparently didn’t smell anything.

  Instead, she chastised her daughter for her tardiness. “You should have come home hours ago.”

  “Sorry,” Miriam murmured.

  Jonah could tell by her quiet tension she was waiting for him to rat her out. He kept his mouth shut on the subject, just as he’d stayed mum about what had happened to him that afternoon. Eden had enough to worry about with an unwanted husband who had memory issues and, possibly, PTSD.

  “What’s for dinner?” Miriam asked.

  Eden groaned. “Oh, shoot. We need to go by the store or order takeout.”

  Apprehension cinched Jonah’s stomach. “Let’s do takeout again.” He had no desire to mingle with the public without a weapon. “How about Thai?” he asked.

  Eden looked at him askance, as if sensing something odd about his suggestion.

  “Awesome,” Miriam exclaimed. “I want pork spring rolls and that coconut soup.”

  Detecting relief and goodwill in his stepdaughter’s voice, Jonah determined he was well on his way to mending fences with her. He wished he could win back Eden’s love so easily. Then again, if he’d developed a disorder, maybe it was better for her to remain emotionally unentangled.

  Eden turned the lock on Jonah’s door handle, per his request. He had disassembled the knob and its components and put it back on so that the lock now faced the hallway. Confining him to his room at night did not feel right.

  “Okay, I’m sleeping with my ringer on,” she called through the closed door, “so I’ll hear you if you need me.”

  “I’ll be good,” he assured her. “No peeing out the window,” he promised, drawing a small smile from her.

  Conscious of Miriam making her way to the bathroom behind her, Eden added a parting phrase. “Sweet dreams, then.”

  “Night, Eden. Goodnight, Miriam,” Jonah called, his hearing apparently excellent.

  “Goodnight,” they both chorused.

  “This is so weird,” Miriam stated as she headed for the bathroom.

  “His choice,” Eden pointed out. “Good night, squirt,” she added, pausing to kiss her daughter’s cheek. “He wants you to lock your door, too,” she added under her breath. “And let me be the one to unlock his door in the morning. You don’t need to do it.”

  “So weird,” Miriam repeated, thrusting the dog into her bedroom.

  “It’s just a precaution,” Eden assured her. “Go take your shower.”

  “That’s what I’m doing,” Miriam assured her.

  Memories of their evening spent together filled Eden’s thoughts as she made her way back to her own room, turning off lights as she went.

  If Jonah was pretending to like Miriam only to gain Eden’s goodwill, why would he have insisted on meeting Ian? He must have known doing so wouldn’t make Miriam forgive him any sooner. Eden’s daughter thought of herself as an adult, even though she wasn’t. She wouldn’t appreciate Jonah poking his nose into her business—or would she?

  Honestly, sometimes Eden suspected she didn’t know her daughter as well as she thought she did.

  Per Jonah’s wish, she shut and locked her door. Crossing to her window, Eden was glad to see the rain had finally stopped. She lowered the blinds and undressed, all the while replaying the evening they had spent together.

  They’d opted to eat their Thai food at the empty restaurant, rather than bring it home. Once back at the house, Jonah had suggested a board game, and Eden had brought out a game called Catan for them to play at the dining room table. Fighting yawns, Jonah had nonetheless kept Miriam interested and engaged. She’d even laughed out loud a couple of times—a balm to Eden’s ears. By outward appearances, last night’s choking had been forgiven and forgotten.

  Thinking back on her year of marriage, Eden couldn’t help but compare the family dynamics she’d just experienced to what they used to be. What had changed?

  The answer, of course, was Jonah, because he wasn’t ignoring Miriam like he used to. Instead, he was acting like a parent, and not an overly authoritarian one either. Good thing because Miriam would balk at that. He showed concern and fairness and—most importantly—an interest in his stepdaughter, something he had never shown before.

  With sudden misgivings, Eden sank onto her bed. What if Nina was wrong? What if Jonah wasn’t trying to get to her through her daughter? What if his interest in Miriam was sincere?

  Well, then, great, she told herself. Miriam had always wanted a father, whether she admitted that or not. Jonah himself had promised to be there for Miriam, regardless of what happened between the two of them as husband and wife. It was a win-win situation, wasn’t it?

  Not for Eden. The main issue she’d had with Jonah was his lack of familial involvement. If he was suddenly the husband and father she’d always wished he’d be, what further sin could she hold against him to justify her desire to leave him?

  Did she truly want to separate when things were going as well as they were?

  Clasping her hands together, she closed her eyes in prayer, and tried giving the decision up to God.

  Chapter 10

  Jonah stared at the patterns of light dancing on his ceiling. The last time he’d glanced at the clock it was just past midnight. He’d told himself if he wasn’t asleep by zero one hundred hours, he would text Eden to let him out of the room so he could take his nighttime medication.

  He had skipped his regular dose in the hopes of inducing more dreams. Dr. Branson’s fear that nightmares would exacerbate his anxiety didn’t deter him. He had survived his captivity; he could cope with dreams of it, especially if they brought back snippets of his missing memories. Possibly even his reason for forgetting in the first place.

  Closing his eyes, Jonah sent up a prayer for peace, then concentrated on sleeping. One would think, given his absolute physical exhaustion, he’d be out cold by now, but his churning thoughts kept that from happening.

  He now regretted logging into his and Eden’s online banking right before bedtime. While he’d been pleased to find their cash flow looked healthy, the numbers he’d seen going in and out of their savings account had driven home what he’d been through—a symbolic death.

  One month ago to the date, his supplemental life insurance company, USAA, had placed a huge sum of money in the bank for his surviving family. Little question Jonah had paid exorbitant premiums for supplemental insurance, but Eden and Miriam’s financial security made that sacrifice worthwhile. He was pleased to find out he’d looked out for them.

  What threw Jonah for a loop was the fact that all the money—three hundred thousand dollars—had gone back out of their account yesterday. Someone, presumably Eden, had informed USAA that Jonah was alive. He couldn’t imagine how bitter she must have felt, relinquishing the money because the husband she now believed she’d married in error was back from the dead.

  Three hundred thousand dollars.

  It was hard to believe he was worth so much. And that wasn’t even counting the money she would have received from Service Life Group Insurance, his primary insurer through the military—notoriously slow to relinquish benefits. It was true that Naval Special Warfare had invested a pretty penny to turn him into a highly trained operative, but was he worth that much as a human being? Probably not.

  “Lord, how do I increase my worth in Eden’s eyes?” he asked.

  He had to believe he’d made headway during their board game after dinner when he’d let Miriam get a leg up on him. Eden’s knowing glances suggested she’d seen straight through him. But what did such small, insignificant actions accomplish in the large scheme of
things? They couldn’t make Eden love him if she didn’t already.

  “Ugh.” With a groan of frustration, Jonah punched up his pillow. In the same instant, the creaking of a plank outside his window caught his notice. Straining his ears, he heard it again. A tread on the stairs leading up to the deck yielded under the weight of someone ascending.

  His heart pumping faster, Jonah slipped out of bed and crossed to the window. Pressing close to the wall, he tabbed the vinyl blinds to peer outside. Four large silhouettes drifted up the stairs, headed for his front door.

  It could just be his troop members, who were due home any day, but why would they be so stealthy? And why would they visit him this late? What if the threat Jonah had been sensing was manifesting into reality?

  A cold sweat bathed his pores. He had secured the front door himself that night and locked the sliding glass door in the dining room as a natural precaution against intruders. But mere locks couldn’t keep assassins out if they were hell bent on getting inside.

  Is this it, Father? Are they coming for me?

  Jonah cast an eye around the study in hopes of finding a weapon. Eden had informed him, when he’d asked the other day, that none of his private weapons still remained in the house. He must have left all of them in his locker at Spec Ops.

  Eden! The realization his wife and stepdaughter might also be in danger sent him lunging for his cell phone. Even as he began fishing through his drawers for dark clothing, he placed a call to his wife. To his relief, she picked up right away.

  “I knew you wouldn’t last—”

  “Listen.” He cut her off. “Don’t talk. There are men outside. I think they might try to break in. I want you to hide. There’s a pull-down ladder to the attic in your closet, right? I want you to go up it and pull the hatch closed behind you.”

  “Jonah.” Her tone was disbelieving. “Are you okay?”

  He ground his molars together. “Just indulge me, okay? If I’m wrong, I’ll call you back and tell you so.”