The Way Home

Epilogue

Minnesota, December, the following year

KABETOGAMA IS ONE OF THE memories that came back first.” J.R. stood in front of the log cabin’s massive picture window, Bear sitting beside him. The Lab had divided his lavish attention between Ty and J.R. since he and Rabia and the baby had arrived two days ago. “Yet every time I see it, it’s like I’ve forgotten how beautiful it is up here.”

A fire crackled softly in the stone fireplace as Jess walked up beside him, sharing the view outside the dream home Ty had bought for her.

“Like a postcard,” she agreed.

The frozen lake spread out like a moonscape to the north, while the snow-heavy forest nestled around them.

Since she and J.R. were sharing a rare moment alone, she took advantage of it to make sure all was well.

“Ty’s not pushing you too hard, is he?” Yesterday, Ty and Brad had insisted that J.R. go snowmobiling with them. This morning, they’d gone ice fishing.

“No. I’m good. Those guys are crazy wild on those machines, though,” he added with a laugh.

“Please don’t take too many chances with the leg,” she cautioned him.

“Yes, Mom.” He grinned at her.

Nine months ago, the VA’s best surgical team had successfully repaired the break. J.R.’s rehab had been remarkably fast—mainly because of his determination—but Jess didn’t want him pushing too hard.

It was clear, though, that he was doing fine. This was his and Rabia’s second visit to the lake since she and Ty had gotten married last spring, and she was thrilled with how much progress he’d made since she’d seen him last. He looked like the old J.R. again, except for the touches of gray in his hair. He appeared healthy and robust and whole. Most of all, he was happy.

Jess credited Rabia and the baby with much of that. And the gradual recovery of his memory. Since that huge void in his life had been filled, he was better able to manage the PTSD. He still had headaches and nightmares but not as often, and he handled them better now.

“We did the right thing,” he said, smiling down at her.

“We did,” she agreed, and hugged him. They’d both be miserable right now, and so would Ty and Rabia, if they’d stayed the course and tried to force their marriage to work.

“So you think you got a big enough tree?”

She laughed. The oven timer dinged then, and she walked across the great room to the open kitchen to take another batch of cookies out of the oven.

“You know Ty. Go big or go home.”

The tallest Christmas tree Ty could find fit in the center of the great room and rose almost to the peak of the eighteen-foot ceiling. He hadn’t stopped there. A huge wreath hung on the wall between the ceiling and the top of the cabin’s front door. Outside, another wreath glistened with Christmas lights. He’d strung more lights on a perfectly shaped white pine in the front yard and draped garland on the porch posts.

“Much more fun than decorating pineapple palm trees,” he’d said with a grin.

They’d decorated the inside tree together with more twinkling lights and both her old, sentimental ornaments and the new ones she’d had to buy to fill up the gigantic tree. Beneath the tree, Jess had placed lovingly wrapped gifts for everyone she cared about. Shelley and Darrin. Mike and Eva—Ty was meeting their plane in the Falls right now.

There were gifts for Brad and for her mom and dad and for Mike and Ty’s parents, who were all arriving tomorrow. She’d bought presents for Kayla, Blake, Lane, and Hailey and her other part-time help, and she’d even found something special for Boots and Marcia.

And while she didn’t want Rabia to feel as though she were forcing Christian traditions on her, Jess had also bought her a gift in the spirit of friendship and goodwill when she’d gone shopping for J.R. But the lion’s share of the ribbons and bows were wrapped around pretty little packages for the beautiful baby girl who napped upstairs while Rabia took advantage of the down time by catching a much-needed nap herself.

Little Farishta—“Angel”—had her mother’s black eyes and gorgeous olive complexion and her daddy’s determination, especially when she wanted attention.

“We got the word last week that the book has been optioned for a movie.”

She blinked across the counter at him. “You’re kidding?”

“Doesn’t mean a movie’s going to happen, but the option money will go a long way toward college tuition.”

As if J.R. had any financial worries. Once the story had broken last year, he’d had book offers flying at him like bullets. Only after he and Rabia had given it hard and serious consideration had they decided to engage a literary agent. The subsequent bidding war for the book about his ordeal had made J.R. a wealthy man.

He hadn’t taken the book deal because he’d wanted to get rich, though. He’d taken it to help fund Rabia’s cause. They’d eventually settled in D.C., where Rabia actively lobbied for awareness of the need for continued support of Afghan women’s rights. A film documentary was also in the works that brought attention to the plight of women and girls in her homeland. All because Rabia had a voice that would not be silenced.

Jeff had enrolled in college. His goal was to become a counselor for veterans suffering from TBI and PTSD.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said, “but I’ve got one question.”

“Shoot.”

“Who’s going to play me in the movie?”

He grinned and snagged a warm sugar cookie off the tray. “Someone with a smart mouth.”

The front door opened then, bringing a gust of crisp winter air and the laughter of the man she loved.

“WILL YOU QUIT smiling?” Ty teased the next night, as they snuggled side-by-side on the sofa in front of the fire, after everyone had retired to one of their five bedrooms.

Jess nestled deeper against Ty’s chest. “I can’t help it. I’m happy. Most of the people I love in this world are safe and warm under our roof tonight. We should have worked a little harder to persuade Brad to stay and sleep on the sofa.”

“I think that confirmed bachelor was more than happy to retire to his man cave for a little peace and quiet.”

“You’ve got to admit, when you Brown boys get together, things do get a bit out of hand. Your poor mom. You two gave her fits when you were growing up. Some of the stories she told me!”

“You don’t want to believe that sweet, apple-cheeked woman. She lies.”

She laughed and gave him an elbow in the ribs. “Shame on you.”

“She does,” he insisted, with a hint of a whine that made her laugh again. “We were angels. Like the one on top of the tree.”

As much as she enjoyed these quiet moments together, she couldn’t stop a yawn.

“Speaking of angels,” he said, “I know another one who needs to go to bed. You’re beat.”

“I don’t want to move.”

“You don’t have to.” He gathered her in his arms and stood.

“You’ll hurt your back.”

“You let me worry about my back.”

He carried her upstairs, Bear padding along behind them, and laid her down. Then he undressed her while she watched his eyes in the dark.

“Thank you,” she whispered, when he crawled under the covers with her.

“My pleasure.” He drew her into his arms and nuzzled her neck. “And I should be thanking you.”

“For what? Having your family here?”

“No. Because I would never have this without you,” he murmured.

“This?” She lifted her head so she could see his face in the soft shadows. Unexpected emotions welled up inside her when she saw the sheen of moisture glistening in his eyes.

“Home.” He pressed his lips softly to hers. “I never thought I’d find this sense of home.” He kissed her again with a tenderness that humbled her. “Thank you for showing me the way.”