Sadie arranged the pillows on her bed and stood back to study her handiwork. Perhaps a splash of purple was needed. The next time she drove to Amarillo, she’d look for something at a bed and bath store.
She looked around the master bedroom with a mix of sadness and peace. She’d made the room her own, with her white bedroom furniture and big white area rug, and she felt at home. Comfortable. Captain Church Hill still hung above the stone fireplace and her mama and daddy’s wedding photo sat on the mantel, but everything else had been taken out and stored in the attic. Everything but the silver brush and comb set she knew her father had given her mother on their wedding night. She’d found the set in her father’s sock drawer with an old string tie and had decided to leave both on her own dresser.
The veterinarian had stopped by earlier and checked on Maribell. He and Tyrus had done an ultrasound on the fetus and learned that the mare would deliver a little stallion next fall. Somewhere in heaven, her daddy was doing a happy jig. Probably with her mama.
Sadie moved from the room and down the hall filled with portraits, still unsure what she wanted to do with all those old pictures. She walked down the stairs to her daddy’s office and sat behind the old wood and hide desk that would definitely have to go. The old leather and Navajo chair was comfy and might stay though. She opened up her laptop and wrote “finding lost relatives” in the search engine. She had to find something interesting to fill her days. Fill the lonely void. She couldn’t call Vince to rescue her anymore, and finding a long-lost sister—if she had a long-lost sister—seemed like the right thing to do. If Sadie had been kept in the dark her entire life, what did her sister know? And if she really did have a sister, what was she like?
Finding her was like flying blind. She didn’t know how to go about finding a long-lost person. She had a mother’s name, birth date, and hospital. The information of her daddy’s trust he’d set up and a bank account number, but she didn’t know what to do with the information. She didn’t know whom to trust with the information, either. It wasn’t something she wanted to get out. At least not yet. The only person she’d told was Vince, and that had been a total accident.
She glanced up from the computer screen. Seeing Vince had been hard. Just looking at him made her battered heart ache all over for him. Then he’d kissed her with more passion and lust than she’d ever felt from him before. He’d packed more need in that kiss than all kisses combined. Probably because he hadn’t found a replacement for her yet, and it would have been so easy to kiss him back. To let him touch her and go home with him and make love. He wanted her. He’d said it himself, but he didn’t love her. And she was through loving men who couldn’t love her as she deserved to be loved. If nothing else, her daddy’s death had taught her not to wait around and hold her breath for a big declaration that some men just weren’t capable of giving or feeling.
The doorbell rang and she waited for Clara Anne to answer it. When it rang again, she rose and moved to the entry. She swung open one side of the big doors and Vince stood on the JH’s big welcome rug. Gone was his usual uniform of T-shirt and cargos, today he wore a white dress shirt and khaki pants like the night of Tally’s wedding. All that was missing was a tie. He was big and strong and looked so good it tied her stomach in a knot.
He stared at her through those green eyes of his, seeming to take her in all at once. Touching her here and there with his gaze. “Sadie” was all he said.
After a few long moments she asked, “Why are you here?”
“I brought you a name.”
“Of?”
“Someone who can find out if you have a sister.” He handed her a slip of paper he’d folded in half. “He’ll do as little or as much as you need.”
“Thank you.” She took it from him and slipped it into the back pocket of her jeans. “You didn’t have to drive all the way out here to give this to me. You could have texted me the information.”
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“Invite me in.” He cleared his throat. “Please.”
More? How could he know more? She hadn’t given him any information. She stepped aside and he moved past her in the entry. She turned and leaned her back against the closed door.
“Last night after you left the bar, I wanted to kick some ass. I felt like shit and I wanted to make someone feel as bad as I was feeling. I would have done that in the past.”
Sadie glanced at his hands then up to his clear face. “But you didn’t.”
He shook his head, and a lopsided smile twisted his lips. “If I show up with a black eye at my sister’s wedding, she’ll kick my ass.” He paused and his smile fell. “Mostly I didn’t because I don’t want you to think I’m the kind of guy who can’t control himself. For the first time in my life I care what a woman thinks of me. I care what you think.”
The bottom of her heart squeezed a little and she tried not to make his words mean something they didn’t. Caring what someone thought wasn’t love.
“Last night when I saw you, I thought we could just go back to the way things were. That we’d just pick up where we left off.”
“That’s not possible.”
“I know. I never meant for you to be anything other than a one-night stand.”
“I know.” She looked down at the floor beneath her feet. She’d never meant for him to be anything but a friend with benefits. But the friend part had turned to love.
“But one night turned into two and two into three and three into a week and a week into two weeks. Two weeks into two months. I’ve never been with a woman as long as I was with you.”
She looked up. “I guess I should be flattered that it took you longer to get bored.”
“I told you last night I wasn’t bored. I wasn’t ready for it to end.”
“Then why did it?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Because you saw me that night. I never wanted you to see me like that. No one besides a Navy doc knows about the dreams and I never wanted anyone to know. Especially you.” He shook his head. “Never you.”
She pushed away from the door. “Why?”
“Because I’m a man.” He shrugged and dropped his hands to his sides. “Because I’m supposed to handle everything. Because I’m a Navy SEAL. Because I’m a warrior and don’t have PTSD. Because I’m not supposed to be afraid of a little dream.”
“It’s not a little dream.”
He looked over her shoulder at a vase filled with yellow roses Clara Anne had cut from the garden. He opened his mouth and closed it again.
“How long have you been having them?”
“Since Pete died. On and off for about six years.”
“Your buddy, Pete Wilson?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to Pete?”
He looked at her, but once again, she thought he was seeing beyond her to something she couldn’t see. And like the last time, it broke her already broken heart. “It should have been me. Not him. We were pinned down, taking heavy fire, bullets slamming into trees and rocks, coming from every side. Pete blasted away, shooting at everything with one hand as he radioed for air support with the other. We were boxed in, with the Marines below us firing straight up at the Taliban. But there were so many of them. Hundreds. No way to fall back off that fucking mountain. Too many terrorists. Nothing to do but slam new magazines in the breech and hope to hell the airstrike happened in time to save our asses.”
She felt an urge to place her hand on the side of his face and look into his eyes. But she didn’t. She loved him but she couldn’t touch him. “I’m glad you didn’t die that day.”
He looked to his left again. “Pete took three bullets. One to his left leg and two to the chest. I didn’t get hit. At least not by Taliban bullets. The fighter-bombers and attack choppers screamed in and blasted the living hell out of the crevasses until all those Taliban fighters were obliterated. When the rescue helos finally rocketed in from the south, Pete was gone. I was deaf and puking my guts out, but I was alive.”
Sadie held up one hand. “Wait. You were deaf?”
“From the concussion of the airstrike.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “I got it all back but about sixty percent in my left ear.”
So that’s why he watched her talk sometimes. She’d thought he liked watching her lips.
“I’ve never told anyone about Pete, but you saw me at my worst, I thought you should know that. I came out here today to tell you why I acted the way I did after you saw me pathetic and . . . Well, saw me in the corner of the hall.”
He didn’t owe her an explanation. “You weren’t pathetic.”
“A woman should feel safe around a man. Not find him shaking in a corner, yelling at shadows.”
“I always felt safe around you. Even that night.”
He shook his head. “A man should take care of a woman. Not the other way around. You saw me at my worst and I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry for a lot of things, especially that I just dropped you off that night. I was kind of hoping you could forget that whole night ever happened.”
“Is that why you drove all the way out here?” He should know she didn’t gossip. Well, about anything other than Jane’s promiscuity. “I would never talk about it to anyone.” And as far as being dumped on her doorstep, she wasn’t likely to ever tell anyone about that, either.
“I’m not worried about you telling anyone. And that isn’t the only reason I’m here. There’s more.”
More? She didn’t know how much more she could take before she fell apart again. Like last night when she’d bawled all the way home. She was just grateful no one had seen her.
“I’m sorry I made you cry last night.”
Crap. It had been dark and a single tear had leaked out. She wished he hadn’t seen that. Wished she’d been able to suck it up better.
“I don’t ever want to be the reason you cry again.”
The only way that could happen was if he left and gave her time to heal her shattered heart. She took a step back and reached for the doorknob behind her. The backs of her eyes stung and if he didn’t hurry and leave, she was afraid he might see her cry again. “Is that all?”
“There’s one more thing I came out here to tell you.”
She lowered her gaze to the third button on his shirt. “What?” She didn’t know what there was possibly left to say. Just goodbye.
He took a deep breath and let it out. “I love you.”
Her gaze rose to his and a single “What?” whispered from her lips.
“I’m thirty-six, and I’m in love for the first time. I don’t know what that says about me. Maybe that I’ve waited for you all my life.”
Her mouth fell open and she sucked in a breath. She was feeling kind of light-headed, like she might pass out. “Vince. Did you just say you love me?”
“Yes, and it scares the hell out of me.” He swallowed hard. “Please don’t say thank you.”
She bit the side of her lip to keep from smiling or trembling or both.
“Did you mean it when you said you love me?”
She nodded. “I love you, Vince. I thought you’d be just a friend with benefits. Then you became a real friend and brought me Chee-tos and Diet Coke. I fell in love with you.”
“Chee-tos?” He frowned. “That’s all it took?”
No, there’d been a lot more. “You rescued me, Vince Haven.” She took a step toward him and tipped her head back to look up into his eyes. Whenever she’d needed him, he’d been there.
“I’ll always rescue you.”
“And I’ll rescue you, too.”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “From?”
“From yourself. From turning thirty-seven without me.”
He placed his hands on the side of her face. “I love you, Mercedes Jo Hollowell. I don’t want to live without you for another day.” He brushed his thumb across her cheek and bottom lip. “That son of a bitch Sam Leclaire said something. Something about it not mattering where a person lives. It’s who you live with.” He kissed her and added against her lips, “God, I hate when that guy is right.”
Sadie chuckled and reached for Vince’s hand. Sometimes an anchor wasn’t just a place, it was a person. The JH was her home. Vince was her anchor. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Someplace more private. Someplace where you’ll rescue me from these tight jeans and I’ll rescue you from those non-issue pants.”
“Hooyah.”