Gifts of Honor: Starting from Scratch\Hero's Homecoming (5 page)

“It’s Christmas. I can ask for any stupid shit I want. And as my best friend, you have to go shopping amongst the Christmas madness, wrestle with wrapping paper and put up a tree so there’s a proper place for you to put all that crap once you get it wrapped. Got it?”

She got it. She’d thought she’d been doing pretty well, covering up her lack of enthusiasm for the season by showering everyone with Pfeffernüsse and keeping herself busy. But she hadn’t fooled Coe. Everything about the season reminded her of the beginning of the end of her life with Sully, to the point where she secretly wanted to dump every Christmas tree into the nearest wood chipper, and cackle while doing it.

Yikes. Maybe Christmas shopping was a healthy thing to do, after all.

“You know I love you even though you’re an idiot, right?” She refolded the list and wrapped her arms around his burly shoulders in a hug.

And saw Sully and Lowell standing in the doorway.

Chapter Four

The noise level dropped noticeably, and Lucy’s skin prickled with the awareness of what felt like the entire town’s eyes bouncing from her to Sully and back again. A tumbleweed blowing in the space between them wouldn’t have been amiss. With nothing left to do, she tried for a casual nod and turned back to her bowl of chili. There. Nothing to see, folks, just move along now, no drama here.

And it wasn’t dramatic, she thought, grim-faced as she picked up her spoon and tried to at least look like she was eating. They should expect to bump into each other now that he was home. While the townspeople might get their avaricious buzz on about it, eventually they’d find something else to gab about when they saw nothing—

“Mind if we join you?”

Crap
.

The words
go away
sprang to her lips so forcefully she could taste them as she looked up at the sound of Sully’s voice. He didn’t seem any worse for wear after this morning’s episode, and she had to admit he looked like he’d never had a traumatic day in his life. His dark brown hair was almost as military-short as it had been for years, his face clean shaven, his dark evergreen eyes clear and boring into hers as he stood by the unoccupied stool next to her. For a man who couldn’t seem to figure out whether or not he could tolerate the sight of her, he sure was looking his fill now.

Coe saved her from answering in his usual, diplomatic way. “There are a couple booths that are empty. You’d probably be happier there, right?”

“No.” With that, Sully slung a leg over the stool and made himself comfortable. With a sigh, Lowell did the same, sitting next to his son. “How’s the chili?”

“Filling.” Giving up the ghost of acting normally—when she had no clue what normal was supposed to be in situations like this—she pushed her bowl away. “In fact I’m full, so—”

His hand came down over hers, and the way he looked at it made her think he’d shocked them both with the action. “I wanted to apologize for this morning.”

“What happened this morning?” Coe asked, clearly shooting for the Nosy Guy of the Year award.

Other than aiming a cold look his way, Sully ignored him while his fingers curled over hers. “I hope I didn’t upset you, Lucy.”

Upset her, she thought, staring at the hand imprisoning hers. Now there was a joke if she’d ever heard one. “Are you kidding? I was just worried you were having a bad reaction to the Pfeffernüsse. You weren’t, were you?”

“If by bad reaction, you mean he’s plowed through an entire box already, then maybe.” Lowell grabbed up a laminated menu. “If Sully isn’t careful, he’s going to get a gut.”

“I’ve had a sweet tooth lately that just won’t quit.” He scowled at his dad, only to turn back when Lucy pulled her hand from his. “It’s like I’ve got this mystery craving I can’t satisfy.”

Lucy slanted him a cautious look. “If I asked whether or not you remember what your favorite foods are, will it make you want to scream or throw things?”

“No. Why would I do that?”

“No reason.” Signaling the waitress for the check, she made sure she looked casually disinterested as she dug for her wallet. “You love bourbon chicken, blackened catfish and creamed corn. Bacon is the food of the gods, and you’ll inhale anything that has to do with peanut butter. You like the dark roasts for your morning coffee, but when you’re not feeling well your favorite thing is peppermint tea and plain animal crackers. I made you an ardent fondue fan when I put it out as a dip, and you and broccoli don’t get along. You’ve never met a dessert you didn’t love, and the red velvet pancakes that are synonymous with Christmas morning can’t be eaten with maple syrup, according to you, but rather must be consumed with a cream cheese drizzle you made up yourself. As you’ve already discovered you like Pfeffernüsse, but you also like chocolate chip cookie dough, though you know you’re not supposed to eat it raw, fresh shortbread and snickerdoodles. Do any of these things sound good to you?”

“Everything but the broccoli.”

“I hope you find what you’re looking for.” The waitress passed by to hand out bills to her and Coe, and she stifled a sigh of relief as freedom came within reach. “Enjoy your lunch.”

As discreetly as possible she handed some money and her check to Coe, who was heading for the line at the cash register. “I need air.”

Coe didn’t ask why, merely nodded his head. “I’ll catch up.”

Maybe it was time to give moving out of Bitterthorn some thought. Lucy frowned at the possibility as she paced outside The Dirty Duck, while her heart pounded and her chili began to fight back. She couldn’t pull off the act that everything was okay. She’d thought she could do it, but it was impossible. Sully might have said the divorce would make it like their marriage had never happened, but it wasn’t that way for her. God, she almost wished she was the one who had no memory of it. Then she wouldn’t look at him and suffer a flood of memories of what it was like to be held by him, kissed by him. Have him buried deep inside her as he whispered the sweetest, dirtiest things until her toes curled and she felt free to do anything she wanted...

A hand shot out and caught her elbow. “You don’t have to run away every time I show up.”

She almost jumped out of her skin before glaring at a stone-faced Sully. “I’m not running from anyone. I’m just trying to give you some space. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I’m not going to thank you for that.”

“You should. You should be on your damn knees thanking me for all the ways I’ve tried to make your life easier.” Then she clamped her lips shut to keep the rest of the bitterness from bubbling out. Great, now she knew what it was like to kick a man when he was down. “Even if you don’t want the personal space, you’ve got it, okay? So you might as well enjoy it.”

“My problem is too much space—in between memories that don’t make sense in a life I feel like I’m failing at.” Frustration darkened his eyes while the fingers that gripped her elbow tightened. He seemed completely unaware this move pulled her closer. “You were an army wife for almost five years, right? Aren’t you supposed to be tougher than this?”

Oh, he did
not
just go there, did he? “If you had even one memory of me, you’d never say that to my face without at least some running distance between us, pal.”

“There we go.” A delighted smile suddenly flashed, and its heated edge shocked her. “There’s that fire that stopped me in my tracks earlier. I’d been wondering what I saw in the goody-two-shoes you’re always trying to be when you’re around me.”

The unfairness of it all nearly choked her. “I’ve been doing exactly what the doctors told me to do to help you heal—treat you carefully, keep my voice down and not make any sudden moves for fear of upsetting you, apply no pressure and give you whatever room you needed.”

“You don’t have to hide who you are from me. I’m not in the hospital anymore.”

“And I’m not your wife anymore.” When the words hit the air, spoken out loud by her for the first time despite the fact that it had been a reality for months, it was like a punch in the gut. But she needed it, and by God it was time she started facing it. “From your standpoint you never even
had
a wife. You remember Lowell, you remember some random promise to mail presents to the family of an army buddy and countless other things. But you don’t remember
me
, so I can’t figure out why you’re even bothering to cross my path now.”

“Lucy, I didn’t do this on purpose. You have no idea what it’s like to have missing pieces of your life staring you right in the face and there’s...
nothing
. No memory, no connection, no feeling. I have nothing but this frustrating sense of failure.”

His words hit her like fists.
She
was the one staring him right in the face. She was the one for whom he felt nothing. She had to give him credit; he couldn’t have said it any plainer than that. “You’re right about one thing. I no longer run out of a room for fear of upsetting you.
I’m
now the one who needs her space. You think you’ve got it bad because you can’t remember me? Try turning it around. Imagine what it’s like knowing the person you promised you’d spend your life with can remember just about everyone else, except you.” Then she waved an impatient hand, angry at her near-slip into the pity pool. That was one place she’d never willingly go. “Look, forget it, all right? Like you said, you didn’t mean for any of this to happen, and God knows
I
sure didn’t. You have no frigging clue how much I didn’t want this.”

Confusion mingled with concern in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Never mind.” Again she waved him away. No way in hell was she about to tell him his decision to re-up—a decision that hadn’t included her—had cut them both to the quick. “Let’s just forget we had this little chat.”

“Telling an amnesiac to forget something is a bad idea.” He pulled her closer still, until his body heat radiated through her clothes to sizzle against her skin. “I don’t want to do any more forgetting, Lucy. Not when it comes to you. You’re at the center of every goddamn blank spot in my head, and it’s driving me crazy.
You’re
driving me crazy, and when you run from me like you just did, I feel like—”

“Yo, Luce.” As large and intimidating as a rabid Kodiak bear, Coe loomed up behind them. “This guy bothering you?”

“Stay out of this.” In a heartbeat Sully looked every inch the deadly weapon his Special Forces training had molded him into. “This is a private party, between me and the woman who was once my wife.”

“You can’t have it both ways.” With her internal emergency brake slipping into the off position, she jerked her arm free with a strength fueled by rage and soul-deep pain. “I don’t belong to you anymore. You gave me up. Long before this past summer, you gave me up. Find a way to cope.”

With that, she stalked as fast as she could in the general direction of Coe, so blinded by furious tears she could barely see where she was going.

* * *

“It looks like the parade route circles around the town square, then heads down Ferdinand Boulevard and straight on to the mayor’s house.” Chugging along in Lowell’s dependable king-cab pickup, Sully traced the route outlined in the
Bitterthorn Herald
while his father sat behind the wheel. For the past couple of days since he’d had his disastrous meeting with Lucy, the weather had been overcast and oppressive—a perfect match for his mood. It was like he was waiting for something to break, only he didn’t know what. All he knew was that the anticipation made sleep impossible and his bizarre craving for cookies had become a thousand times worse.

And then there was that jolt of panic that hit every time he remembered Lucy all but running from him.

“It should be a good parade this year.” Lowell slowed to wave at someone strolling along the sidewalk fronting the burned-out and once-magnificent Thorne Mansion. “Its theme is welcoming home our troops. Kind of has an extra special meaning for me, you know? I’m so lucky to have you back home.”

“I’m glad to be back where I belong.” Again the image of Lucy leaving him in front of The Dirty Duck shot through his mind, and any sense of
belonging
vanished. “This Christmas Ball thing. How long does it usually last?”

“Three or four hours.” Lowell looked both ways at a four-way stop before heading past an antiques store and the bucolic town square. “But everyone would understand if you wanted to bug out early. Just because you’re the guest of honor doesn’t mean you have to stay the entire time.”

“Have I ever attended this thing before?”

“Once or twice. Whenever you were in town long enough to attend, Lucy stuffed you into your uniform and dragged you to it, just to make a proper appearance. You were never a very good sport about it, but she kept you on the straight and narrow.”

“Lucy.” Always, it came back to Lucy. The woman with sky-blue eyes that lit with a fire she could no longer keep hidden. As sorry as he was that he’d pushed her into showing him the real Lucy Crabtree, there was definitely something alluring in all that heat. “Dad, stop the car.”

Lowell pulled over. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“I’m hungry.” And they were outside Pauline’s Praline Sweet Shoppe.

Lowell lifted a brow. “Hungry, huh?”

“There’s no law saying I can’t have sweets for lunch.”

“Uh-huh.” Not at all fooled, Lowell glanced at his watch. “I’m headed over to the hardware store and then Mabel’s, so feel free to go at your own pace. And tell Lucy that if she has the time, I would sure enjoy another box of Pfeffernüsse, since you ate them all.”

“I don’t even know that I’ll see Lucy.” Or that she’d want to see him.

“Just tell her, all right?”

“Got it.” Though whether or not she’d be willing to listen was anyone’s guess. Of all the times he could recall seeing Lucy—when he’d awakened to find her cuddling his hand, the glimpses he saw of her through therapy, the meetings they’d endured to dissolve the legal ties binding them together—never once had he seen her cry. There had been signs of stress and strain, sure. But she’d always held her head high, her chin at an almost defiant tilt that hid whatever was going on inside.

She’d kept everything hidden from him, he realized now while bitter regret burned a hole through his chest. The expression he’d glimpsed before she’d turned away was one of pure misery. It was a moment that had etched itself into his brain without mercy, because at the heart of that misery was him. His doctors and therapists had encouraged him to focus on getting better, so that was what he’d done. But while he’d been doing that, he’d turned a blind eye to just how much his injury had wounded everyone around him, including Lucy.

What a selfish son of a bitch he had to be, to make a strong woman cry.

Had she been shielding him all this time from that tidal wave of pain he’d witnessed, the pain of being forgotten? Of course she had, came the immediate answer that flayed him alive. She’d admitted as much. No wonder that asshole she hung out with called him
fragile
.

Sully’s mood darkened even more at the thought of Coe. A not-completely-healthy need to hit something made Sully’s hands bunch into fists. Obviously Lucy thought he was fragile as well, since she’d worked so hard at shielding him from her pain. But
fragile?
What a laugh. Fragile was the one thing he wasn’t. What he needed were answers, and the feeling that his life was back under his control. But most of all he needed...needed...