His Soldier Under Siege

by Regan Black

  “Do you think it was the mastermind himself?” Derek asked.

  Hank shrugged. “Sure would be nice if it was.”

  “Did H.B. break the garage window and bug my house?” The idea of that weasel skulking around her home made her skin crawl.

  “I don’t think he bugged the house,” Hank said. “He had the time to vandalize the window, but he was in a meeting with Bingham the morning you were hit by the car.”

  Ben sat up straight. “When were you hit by a car?”

  Hank, Derek and Grace Ann all cringed. “It was more of a bump, Dad. I’m fine.”

  “Hank?” the general demanded.

  Hank explained what happened with as few details as possible. “The police found the car, but again, no evidence. When you didn’t get a text about that, I’d hoped to file it under coincidence.”

  “And you didn’t because?” Grace Ann asked. “The protection detail’s flat tire turned out to be deliberate. In light of the bugs in my house, that had to have been done on the hunter’s orders.”

  “Why is he taking such an aggressive line with her?” her father wondered aloud. “If I could protect you from all of this I would, sweetie.”

  “That may be part of the answer,” she said. “You urged me toward a civilian career, but I wouldn’t go until I’d proved I could do everything Matt could do, but better.

  “H.B. would have been thrilled to have me out of the picture,” she continued. “Clears a promotion path for him, at the very least. He had access to everything I’ve been through and every conversation about it.” H.B. had known that she’d been dancing at the fringes of the PTSD issue since they’d come home. As Bingham’s assistant, he was privy to her records and all but the most private conversations from their commander.

  “But is that enough motivation?” Luke voiced the query at the top of everyone’s mind. “I guess people have done worse for less.”

  She didn’t have that answer. Yet. “What would happen to Dad if I’m found guilty of misconduct?” she asked the room at large. “Now, think about what happens to Dad if I’m found guilty of misusing supplies and I have a mental breakdown?”

  “His reputation takes a hit,” Hank said.

  “And the family reputation takes a bigger hit,” she agreed. “When I look at this objectively, I can see that whoever is determined to wreck Dad wants me, personally, to go out in a blazing meltdown. That sort of shameful scene would bring the media down on Dad and the family like vultures on a carcass. Think about it, everything that’s happened since the training accident was specifically designed to get under my skin.”

  And as much as she hated to admit it, those incidents would have succeeded if Derek hadn’t been around to steady her.

  “It’s personal,” Derek said.

  “Gracie.” Ben came around the desk and hauled her into a bear hug. “You’re too strong. No one will crack my girl.”

  She sniffled against the emotions welling up, ready to spill over and embarrass them all. For a moment, she let herself burrow into her bigger-than-life father as she’d done as a little girl. Backing away, she swiped tears from her cheeks.

  “I don’t matter. Not to the guy calling the shots. You do. Your pain is the whole point. He might employ pros to do the dirty work, but this started with something personal between you and him.” She backed toward the door. “He turned H.B. against me, against the army regulations he loved so much.” To her ultimate embarrassment, Hank’s face wavered as she looked at him through her tear-filled eyes. “That takes personal leverage.”

  She bolted, unable to hang on to her composure for one more second. Her family was a blur of color and sound as she headed for the stairs and the privacy of her room. She needed alone time, terrifying as that prospect was in the grand scheme of things. She didn’t want sympathy or support; she wanted to know she could cope under her own power. That’s what army officers did.

  Sure, she was grateful for all Derek had done, but she realized she’d been leaning too hard. Using him. He deserved better than that. She should probably crash on the couch tonight.

  A knock on the door had her curling away from the sound, hiding under the quilt. “I’m asleep.”

  “I’m sure you’d like to be,” her mother replied. She walked in and closed the door. “Gracie, talk to me.”

  She shook her head. “Hank and Dad can fill you in.”

  Patricia sighed as only mothers can and the mattress dipped as she sat on the bed. “About the case, sure. Not about you.”

  “I’m tired, Mom.”

  “You’ve been tired before.” Patricia smoothed her hand over Grace Ann’s hair. “When was the last time you were on a jump?” she asked.

  Grace Ann did the math in her head. “I’m still qualified.” She rolled over, too curious now. “Why?”

  “Might be time for another one.”

  As a life-affirming exercise, jumping out of perfectly good airplane was almost as good as sex. “Maybe.”

  Patricia shifted around on the bed until she leaned back against the headboard, Grace Ann’s head resting in her lap. “Do you remember your first jump at Fort Bragg?”

  No one forgot their first jump. Pushing past the fear, shutting out the voice in her head clamoring for her to sit down and stay safe, and then the incomparable high of free-falling through the sky. The landing had been rough but once she found her feet she couldn’t wait to get back up there and do it all over again.

  Grace Ann sniffled. “Never forget your first.”

  “Ha.” Patricia bumped her shoulder. “You’ve made my point for me. Good or bad, we remember the firsts life dishes out.”

  Grace Ann groaned. “I’m not in the mood for another Matt-is-the-greatest-child story,” she joked, trying to divert the conversation from sensitive territory.

  “Well, Matt might be my favorite at the moment...”

  Grace snorted. “You say that to all of us.”

  “And I change the names to protect the innocent,” Patricia admitted. “Let’s focus on you. How did you feel when you graduated from nursing school?”

  “Same as you, probably,” she answered. “Proud. Scared, but in a good way. Eager to get out there and make a difference.”

  “That was a wonderful day for us, too,” she said. “You simply are not capable of disappointing us, Gracie. We raised you to know you could come to us with anything.”

  “Mom.” She sat up, pleating the edge of the quilt between her fingers. “With Hank involved, you know they’ll find the jerk hassling Dad.”

  Her mother covered her hands, squeezing lightly. There was so much strength in that warm touch. “I won’t stop asking,” Patricia vowed. “All that tenacity your commanders praise? You got it from me.”

  Grace Ann sighed. She wasn’t escaping this conversation. “What has Dad told you?”

  “I want to hear it from you.”

  “I’m not ready,” Grace Ann said in a last-ditch effort for one more reprieve.

  “You’re past ready,” Patricia ordered. She tapped her daughter’s forehead. “You’ve spent too much time in your head since you came home. Oh, you took your leave, but you spent half of it as a volunteer in the pediatric ward.”

  Grace Ann stared at her. “You knew about that?”

  “How can you be surprised? What mothers don’t know immediately, they find out eventually.” She rolled her eyes. “There have been times these past six months when the surfing doesn’t even smooth you out. Talk.”

  “I’m getting through, Mom.”

  “Sweetheart, a career in medicine means we see things in ways other people can’t. The army intensifies that effect. Burnout happens.” Patricia plowed on when Grace Ann didn’t speak. “I had your father, almost from day one. I’ve talked with your sister and brothers. You aren’t unloading on any of us.”

  “Maybe
because I’m fine,” she insisted.

  “If you were acting like yourself I might believe you.”

  She really was tenacious. “Mom, I really don’t need this interrogation.”

  Patricia simply cuddled her as if she were three rather than thirty-three. “Your father told me about the bombing at the village school shortly after it happened.”

  And her mother had been waiting all this time for her to open up about it. “I survived.” She didn’t want to do this, not here, not tonight. Not ever, she thought with a sigh. “Are you trying to push me over the edge, too?”

  “No, baby.” She crooned in her ear. “I’m trying to keep you on this side of the abyss.”

  A mean little voice in her head wanted to ask what her mother knew about that dark pit. Except, she knew her mom had seen plenty through her own career and as a mother of five.

  A softer voice urged her to snuggle in close and welcome the unconditional comfort being offered. She listened to that voice. “I can’t have PTSD, Mom.”

  “But do you?”

  Grace Ann didn’t know anymore. “Is that your diagnosis?”

  “No,” Patricia replied. “I’ve diagnosed that my girl is hurting. I want to be sure you’re open to accepting help from someone.”

  She closed her eyes and pretended she was talking to Derek again. “The memories don’t fade,” she admitted. “When I have too much time on my hands my skin crawls.”

  “You’ve always liked to keep busy.”

  “Being forced to think about it is worse than the nightmares.”

  “Who did you lose, Gracie?”

  “None of us were injured,” she said. “We were all shocked, furious, but not hurt.”

  “Not what I meant, Gracie.”

  “Oh.” She couldn’t get the words past the emotion clogging her throat. Not even imagining it was Derek here listening helped with this piece of the pain. And wasn’t that the crux of it? She couldn’t bear to speak the names of the dead. What a coward she was that she couldn’t honor them in that most basic way. She just let them float at the edges of her mind, accusing her of not being quick enough to save them.

  “They didn’t make any arrests before we came back home,” Grace Ann said. “I’ve always felt we should have.”

  “Is that the resolution you need?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt.” Who knew if it would help? “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ve been doing all right. What’s that quote Dad uses about things looking better in the morning?”

  “Colin Powell’s first rule,” Patricia said, smiling a little. “‘It ain’t as bad as you think. It will look better in the morning.’ Is it working?”

  “Day by day,” she said. “You taught us to live a big life. That’s all I’m trying to do, in some little way, living a big life for those kids who didn’t make it.”

  “I’d feel better if I knew you were sharing the burden. A group or a chaplain or...someone.” Her gaze drifted to the overnight bags near the door.

  Grace Ann knew she referred to Derek. “He’s a good listener.” And still, she couldn’t dump all this baggage at his feet. For him, she was willing to face this, to dredge it up and clear it out.

  “I’ll let you be,” Patricia said, easing off the bed. “But I’ll always be here for you.”

  “You’re so strong, Mom. It helps to know you don’t hold this weakness against me,” Grace Ann whispered.

  “Gracie.” Patricia’s eyes filled. “You know what makes me strong? Having your father in my corner. Yes, I taught you to live big, Grace Ann. I also taught all of you that you don’t have to go through life alone. Get some rest now. Caleb will have you up at the crack of dawn for a surfing lesson.”

  Chapter 12

  The next morning, Derek was roused when Grace Ann slipped out of bed to meet Caleb on the beach again. Her lips had feathered over his and then she’d been gone. Rolling over, he tried to doze off again, but he was done sleeping.

  After a quick shower, his mind latched onto the tail end of the conversation he’d overheard outside the bedroom door last night. Patricia’s words and devotion had moved him. He tended to recall his parents as perfect, though they certainly hadn’t been. Patricia obviously realized her daughter wasn’t at a hundred percent, but she’d managed to make that seem acceptable. Grace Ann wasn’t quitting or running away and by his count, she had every right to take either option.

  Dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, he wandered down to the kitchen and found a fresh pot of coffee. He poured a mug and carried it outside to watch the surfing lesson from the deck. Grace Ann and Caleb were on their boards well out from shore, with Mark and Luke sitting on surfboards nearby. As a wave formed, Mark hopped up and rode it into shore to the cheers of the others.

  Derek marveled at the way the family rallied around Grace Ann without smothering her. Though he was sure she recognized what was happening, she didn’t push them away or tell them to go back to work. He did what he could to make mental notes, since he planned to become an equally permanent fixture in her life.

  He heard the slider and turned, relieved to see Patricia rather than her husband. He wasn’t afraid of the general, he just wasn’t eager to face him again after Hank’s briefing session last night.

  “Need a refill?” she asked, patting the coffee carafe she carried.

  “Sure.” He held out the thick white mug emblazoned with an army logo. “Thanks,” he said when the cup was full again.

  Patricia set the carafe on the picnic table. “Did she sleep last night?”

  “She didn’t keep me awake.” It seemed the most diplomatic response.

  “Good.”

  She sounded sincere, but it was still awkward. “If you’re not comfortable with me staying here, or sharing a room with her, I do understand.”

  “Nonsense.” Patricia waved off his concern. “You’re welcome. I taught my children to make friends quickly and to be smart about it. I think they turned out to be pretty good judges of character. So we trust that judgment until we have reason not to.”

  Sounded like a fair deal, with a hint of a maternal threat added for good measure. “All right. Thank you.”

  “I noticed right away that you mean something to her.”

  The words slipped right under his defenses. His heart thudded behind his ribs at how badly he wanted that to be true. Derek sipped his coffee, his gaze on the surfers below. “My brother is our common denominator.”

  “We’ve met him a time or two,” Patricia said. “He speaks highly of you.”

  Derek would never get used to hearing that.

  “I bet you had your hands full raising a grieving teenager when your parents died.”

  “It was a rocky time,” he admitted, staring into his coffee now.

  “And now you’re a lawyer?”

  “I am,” he replied. With fewer years of experience than he’d planned to have under his belt by now. “In-house counsel for a firm based in Frederick, Maryland. I enjoy it.”

  “Ben told me her house was bugged, but he won’t share the things that madman has sent to him.” Her gaze, fierce and protective, was locked on her daughter as she caught an incoming wave. “Hank’s told me a bit of what you’ve helped her through. I’d like you to tell me why.”

  “She needed a friend,” Derek replied carefully. “Anyone would have pitched in.”

  “Mmm-hmm. You say that, but she didn’t allow anyone else to pitch in,” she pointed out. “Thank you, Derek. It takes a backbone and fortitude to hold things together when you have family in the military.”

  “Kevin is pretty self-sufficient.” She lifted an eyebrow and he elaborated. “I try not to dwell on it,” he admitted. “I felt better about his career after meeting Grace Ann.”

  “I bet you did,” she said, a grin curling the corner of her mouth.

  He felt heat risi
ng into his face. That hadn’t come out quite right.

  “She’s an excellent nurse and a confident soldier,” Patricia added.

  “It’s easy to see where she gets it,” he said. “Does she have a plan B?”

  “If she needs one, she’ll write one for herself.” Patricia moved to prune a few spent blossoms from the planter on the deck rail. “Grace Ann has always been the most practical of my children. May I ask how long you and Grace Ann have been seeing each other?”

  “It’s been a casual friendship for some time now,” he said. “We discovered a mutual interest in hiking and camping and we’ve taken a few trips.” How odd that the first person he confessed that to would be her mom.

  She hummed in that way mothers did. “And you’ve been in love with her all that time?”

  He set his coffee mug on the railing so he wouldn’t drop it. Where had that come from? Well, they were sharing a room and a bed, so conclusions had been drawn. Still, they weren’t overtly affectionate in front of her family. He shook his head, the strongest denial he could offer.

  “Pardon me,” she said. “I’ve made you uncomfortable. The kids tell me I tend to overstep.”

  Love wasn’t something he’d learned to tie to dating. He enjoyed spending time with women, with Grace Ann in particular. Yes, he wanted to carve out a future with her, but love? How strange to realize he did love her. Not a flimsy, theoretical thought in the back of his mind, but right up front. Until now, love was dangerous, unknown territory. Love led to heartache, either in the short-term or down the line.

  With Grace Ann, though, he was ready to brave anything to love her with all of him, as she deserved.

  “You’re protective,” he said. “I respect that and take it as a compliment.”

  “And you understand it, as a young man who had to fill in for his parents.”

  “Yes.” He couldn’t help glancing around for a reprieve. With a family so large, why wasn’t anyone interrupting them? “It was just the four of us, until it wasn’t.” He was a grown man and he’d related the facts of being orphaned often enough through the years.