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

by Rebecca Hartt

  Outrage morphed into relief. At least I know I’m not crazy, Jonah thought. Almost immediately, he second-guessed himself. Or am I?

  What if he’d made the whole thing up? Like his near-miss with the cop car, the scenario was possibly too outrageous to be true. Who would believe it if Jonah told them Lowery had fired three shots at him, right there on Regulus Avenue in the middle of a work week? No one.

  With a whispered curse, Jonah crossed to the bathroom to shower. As he lathered the dirt off his body, he forced himself to recall the event, second by second, analyzing it for evidence it might have been a hallucination. Dr. Branson had let him know hallucinations were common with PTSD.

  “No.” Jonah shook his head. He could not have lost touch with reality to such a profound degree. He knew what had happened was real. Lowery had seen him leave the gym, and he’d seized the chance to finish what he’d left undone in Carenero.

  Reassured by his conclusions, Jonah rinsed and turned off the water. He made up his mind right then not to share his story with another living soul—aside, perhaps, from Special Agent Elwood. That man might believe him. Naturally, Jonah’s teammates would be skeptical. And Eden, who was only just starting to trust him, would have one less reason to give their marriage the chance it deserved.

  Reaching for a towel, Jonah’s gaze fell to the Sig sitting in its holster on the counter next to the sink. “Never leave home without it,” he told himself sternly.

  On her way to Miriam’s bedroom the following afternoon, Eden passed the study and glimpsed Jonah sliding a pistol into a holster hanging from his belt. She jerked to a stop and stared at him in disbelief.

  Catching sight of her, Jonah raised an eyebrow in slight defiance and cinched his belt one notch tighter. The jeans were fitting him better, but he still had some weight to gain.

  “Where did you get that?” she demanded in a hushed but incredulous voice.

  Tipping his head toward Miriam’s bedroom, Jonah put a finger to his lips and gestured for them to talk elsewhere.

  Eden huffed in exasperation and continued toward Miriam’s closed door. Knocking as she entered, she found her daughter atop her bunkbed. Sabby, who lay at the foot of the ladder, sprang up at Eden’s entrance.

  “Honey, we’re leaving now for Jonah’s appointment. Are you finishing your reading?”

  “Yes.” Miriam peered down at her.

  “Good girl.” Eden stood on tiptoe for a kiss. “Please walk the dog as soon as you’re done with your book. If Ian wants to come over here after that, that’s okay, but no going to his house.”

  “Whatever.”

  Pursing her lips together, Eden decided Miriam’s agreement, albeit grudging, was good enough. She left her daughter’s room and found Jonah waiting in the foyer.

  The sun he’d gotten while staining a portion of the deck that morning made him look especially vibrant and virile, causing Eden’s pulse to quicken as she neared him. She told herself she was just nervous about the gun he was openly wearing.

  “Ready?” she asked, letting him know with a look he had some explaining to do.

  He opened the door for her, then stepped aside and watched her dig in her purse for the car keys.

  “I don’t suppose you’ve made a copy of the house key for me yet?” he prompted, reminding her of his request the other day.

  “Not yet,” she said tersely, then turned to descend the stairs.

  “We could stop at a hardware store and make a copy.”

  “We could,” she replied noncommittally as she slipped into the driver’s seat of the Jaguar.

  Ever since Sunday at the restaurant, she’d been waiting for God to give her a clear sign regarding the change in Jonah. On one hand, he was attentive, considerate, and helpful around the house. On the other, the more strength he gained, the more she could sense his energy building. A huge part of her feared it was only a matter of time before the man who’d come home from the hospital, all vulnerable and amenable, would disappear. He was already back to wearing a weapon.

  “So, what’s with the gun?” she demanded, the instant he shut his own door.

  “It’s Saul’s.” Jonah’s voice held a soothing tenor to it. “He’s letting me borrow it.”

  “Why?” Eden was aware her own voice, by contrast, sounded sharp. She sought to temper her agitation as she backed out of the driveway and pointed them in the direction of Oceana Naval Air Base. Jonah was hardly a novice where firearms were concerned. He was an expert, in fact, and his owning them never posed a problem for her in the past.

  When he didn’t immediately answer, Eden glanced over at him only to find him deep in thought.

  “What?” she prompted, looking back at the narrow road.

  “I have something to tell you.”

  His tone alone made her stomach tighten. “Go ahead.” Deep ditches on either side kept her from looking at him again.

  “The NCIS investigator, Elwood, thinks there’s a traitor in Blue Squadron. Someone’s been disclosing the whereabouts of certain weapons to a third party. Those same weapons have been disappearing in advance of our interdictions, taken by someone we’ve nicknamed The Entity.”

  Eden processed the information with gathering confusion.

  “I think I might have known who the traitor is. I think I might have confronted him, and I think he might have tried to have me killed.”

  “What?” The bizarre assertions struck her as unbelievable. “When?”

  “A year ago when the warehouse exploded and again yesterday.”

  “What?” She glanced at him incredulously. Was that why he’d locked himself in his study most of the evening, emerging only once to join them for supper? Eden had assumed he’d been sleeping. “What happened yesterday?”

  Jonah hesitated. “You’re not going to believe me,” he said almost morosely.

  Eden wrung the steering wheel and drew a deep breath. “Just tell me,” she pleaded.

  He drew in an audible breath. “Remember how we ran into Lowery at the gym?”

  She pictured the tense moment when Jimmy caught sight of them.

  “He’s the traitor in the squadron. He hit me in the face with the butt of his rifle and left me to die, knowing The Entity was going to blow up the warehouse.”

  Stunned, Eden processed the information, acknowledging that some of it made sense.

  “But if you can’t even remember, how do you know it was him?”

  “I know because he fired three shots at me yesterday while I was walking home,” he grated almost reluctantly.

  She laughed out loud at the unlikely scenario, glanced over at Jonah, and, seeing his taut expression, abruptly sobered.

  “Sorry,” she immediately apologized. He looked tense enough to pop a gasket.

  “I told you that you wouldn’t believe me,” he stated.

  She forced herself to contemplate his allegations more closely.

  “Why am I just hearing about this now? If someone fired shots at you on base, wouldn’t the MPs have gotten involved?”

  “Lowery’s rifle was suppressed. Nobody heard it being discharged. He would have hit me if I hadn’t dived into a ditch. I hailed the first vehicle to come along and got a ride home.”

  Eden fought to conceal her skepticism as she pictured the unlikely scene Jonah had described.

  “Why didn’t anybody see him?” she inquired.

  “You know that picnic area near the gym? He fired from there, behind the tree line.”

  “I see.” She tried almost desperately to believe him, but the scenario was so far-fetched. “You’re saying Jimmy is the traitor selling information to The Entity?”

  “Yes.” Jonah’s tone became remote.

  Eden envisioned Jimmy taking such risks and shook her head. “I just can’t see that,” she protested. “He doesn’t have it in him to undermine the system. He’s not an independent thinker. He does what he’s told—even if a woman tells him to do it. He’s a pushover.”

  Out of the corn
er of her eye, she realized she had Jonah’s full attention.

  “How do you know that?”

  If he’d asked with accusation in his tone, she’d have slammed on the brakes and told him to walk the rest of the way, but he merely sounded curious.

  “Because he backed off when I told him I wasn’t interested. Someone gutsy enough to betray his own troop wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  Her words rendered Jonah mute.

  When she glanced at him again, he was staring out the passenger window, his jaw muscles jumping.

  “Do you see what I’m saying?” she asked, wishing he would talk.

  He turned his head, caught her eye, then looked at the road ahead of them. It had widened to two lanes, with businesses on either side.

  “Pull over a second,” he requested. “This next parking lot,” he said, pointing to the entrance they were nearing.

  “Why?” she demanded, glancing at the clock. “We’re already late.”

  “Just do it,” he insisted.

  To her amazement, he reached over and grabbed the steering wheel, as if to maneuver the car into the lot himself. Eden braked and grudgingly pulled off the road into the lot. Stopping under the shade of a tree, she threw the car into park.

  “Are you crazy?” she demanded, whipping off her sunglasses to look at him.

  He leaned abruptly toward her, pinning her with his gold-green gaze.

  Warning sirens went off in Eden’s head as he caught the side of her face with his lean fingers, forcing her to hold his gaze even though his touch was gentle.

  “Please don’t call me crazy,” he said very seriously and with a hint of hurt. “I have been through a lot, but I am not crazy.”

  “I didn’t mean crazy in that way,” she amended breathlessly.

  Jonah’s face being so close to hers made her heart beat erratically. Her gaze darted toward his lips as the desire to be kissed competed with dread.

  “It’s okay,” he said, surprising her with his acceptance. “It’s also fine that you don’t believe me about Lowery. I wouldn’t believe it myself if I hadn’t been there. I do, however, need you to believe in my instincts. They’re telling me I’m in danger. Can you believe that much?”

  Eden nodded automatically. His thumb, tracing the line of her jaw, distracted her. It slid to her chin and over the cleft there, reversing the breath in her windpipe as he applied pressure, forcing her lips to part. An awareness-filled tension enveloped them as his gaze locked on her mouth.

  In Jonah’s expanding pupils, Eden could see a twin-reflection of herself, all wide-eyed in expectation of his kiss.

  In the next instant, he dipped his head and pressed his lips to hers, drawing a whimper out of her. It wasn’t at all like the prim kiss she had offered him the other day. This was hot and intense and it made her toes curl.

  Help me, she prayed, not sure what she was praying for. At the same time, her lips softened in welcome under his.

  A sound between pleasure and pain grated in Jonah’s throat as their kiss deepened and their tongues twined.

  Eden’s head spun. She found her fingers in his hair, keeping him from pulling back, urging him to continue his advance.

  Heaven help her, no wonder she had married him before truly getting to know him. The way he made her feel—so beautiful, so connected—was exquisite, perfect. If he could only kiss her forever and stop talking of treason and conspiracies.

  Arching unconsciously, she anticipated the heat of his hand as it traveled from her hip, to the indent of her waist, and higher.

  Without warning, Jonah withdrew. Pressing himself back into the passenger seat, he drew deep, measured breaths while scanning the area around him with watchful eyes. Did he expect Lowery to spring out of hiding and attack them?

  With heart-wrenching insight, Eden realized this must be PTSD manifesting itself. Dr. Branson had warned her Jonah’s PTS might manifest itself as the full-blown disorder. Flustered and confused, pitying him and wishing he could forget his fears and kiss her again, she stifled a sound of lament with a hand to her mouth.

  “Sorry,” Jonah muttered, avoiding her stricken gaze.

  Not as sorry as she was. The realization of how profoundly damaged he was had ripped the rug of hope right out from under her. She had started thinking their marriage stood a chance. How could it, though, with Jonah convinced Jimmy was out to kill him? He wore a loaded gun, for heaven’s sake, and looked like he would use it if the wrong person happened to walk up to their car.

  Without a word, Eden reached for the gear shift and put it into drive. Clutching the steering wheel as if it were a life preserver, she drove them out of the parking lot as fast as she could without drawing attention to themselves. She could not get to the psych clinic on Oceana fast enough.

  At this juncture, Jonah’s psychiatrist was probably the only person in the world who could help him regain his equilibrium.

  “Have you remembered anything new, Jonah?”

  Dr. Branson’s point-blank question was meant to draw Jonah out of his shell. Remembering Special Agent Elwood’s advice to not trust anyone, Jonah shared a couple of memories that had returned to him, both to do with his captivity, neither having to do with the mission.

  As he spoke, his thoughts returned to the kiss he and Eden had shared. However blissful, the kiss could not obliterate the look of panic on Eden’s lovely face after telling her his suspicions of Lowery. He’d wanted her to understand why he’d armed himself with a pistol. He’d wanted her to understand why he felt a constant and encroaching threat. Instead, she’d concluded he had made up the story about Lowery shooting at him, which meant she thought Jonah a paranoid mess.

  Worse was the nagging doubt that he might have imagined the whole episode, along with his close brush with the undercover cop car.

  “I’m not crazy am I, Doc?” Jonah glanced at the doctor’s face in time to catch his startled reaction.

  “Why would you ask that?”

  “Just answer the question,” Jonah exhorted. “You said you think I might have PTSD. Do you think I’m a danger to myself? To society?”

  The psychiatrist’s thick eyebrows pulled together in a confounded look Jonah was fast coming to recognize.

  “That’s not my impression, no,” Dr. Branson said slowly. “But then I don’t know you very well. You’re not exactly forthcoming with me.”

  Jonah chuckled humorlessly at the irony of his situation.

  “Sorry.” He pitied the man for being stuck with him.

  “What about the mission, Jonah, or the year prior to that? Have any of those memories resurfaced?”

  Considering the doctor a moment, Jonah could tell the man was earnest in wanting to help him.

  “What’s it going to take for you to clear me for active duty, Doc?” he asked. “Do I have to get all my memories back, or can I be cleared based on other criteria?”

  Dr. Branson appeared to be caught off guard by the question. “That’s not strictly up to me, I don’t think.”

  “I was told my doctors would advise my CO of my progress. What have you told him?” Jonah persisted.

  His question prompted a deer-in-the-headlights stare. “Well, nothing yet. Your treatment has barely begun, Jonah.”

  At the depressing answer, Jonah jackknifed to his feet and crossed to the window to peer outside.

  Given the angle of the doctor’s office, he could just make out the back of the Jaguar. The faint spume of exhaust coming out of the tailpipe let him know Eden, who said she would come inside to wait, was still in the car with the air-conditioner running. He’d stowed the Sig under the passenger seat as they were entering the base. She wouldn’t toss it into some dumpster while his back was turned, would she? He could tell she didn’t like him having it.

  “How are things going with your wife?”

  Dr. Branson’s sincere-sounding question brought Jonah’s head around.

  “She thinks I’m paranoid,” he muttered. He immediately kicked himsel
f for saying that much.

  “Why would she think that?”

  Jonah crossed his arms at the predictable question and dropped his chin, thinking. He couldn’t afford to mention his suspicions of Lowery. Instead, he brought up the incident with the undercover cop car.

  “You think he actually tried to run you over?” Branson appeared intrigued by the story.

  “Sure looked that way to me,” Jonah retorted.

  The doctor nodded thoughtfully, prompting Jonah to add that he thought some foes intended to break into his house the other night, but it was only his teammates, stringing up a welcome home sign.

  “Hmmm.” The doctor grimaced and nodded. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. After a year of captivity, you’re conditioned to expect a threat. The imbalance between the neurotransmitters’ serotonin and substance P continues to make you feel a threat is imminent. That’s why your meds are so important. They’ll help you to reestablish that delicate balance.”

  “Sertraline makes me fall asleep,” Jonah pointed out. “I want to go off it.”

  Branson flinched. “Not a good idea. You need to be patient,” he urged. “You’ve been taking your meds for less than two weeks. Finding the balance I mentioned takes time. Whatever you do, do not stop the Sertraline.”

  Better not admit to quitting the Prazosin, Jonah figured.

  “Perhaps I should talk to Eden,” Dr. Branson offered, “and explain what I’m telling you. That way she’ll be more patient with your recovery.”

  Jonah glanced bleakly out the window. “I don’t think she’s in the mood for a visit today.”

  “Did you get to visit a place you’d been before?”

  “Yes, we went to a restaurant we used to frequent after church.”

  “And?” Branson prompted.

  Jonah couldn’t discuss the experience without bringing up his suspicions of Lowery.

  “It helped,” he said shortly. “Look, I don’t have anything new to add. Eden’s upset with my paranoia. I need to spend time with her right now and make things right between us.”