Hallowed Ground (27 page)

Then why does it hurt like a bitch?

Was I ever going to be able to watch him fly again without remembering the notification? Will’s funeral? The scars on his body?

“What about you, Mrs. Walker?” Rizzo asked, checking out my ring.

I snapped out of my thoughts. “Oh, well, that’s not until next year. I’m still Miss Howard.”

“Well, then how are you, Miss Howard?”

“I am still a work in progress, but I’ll let you know.”

He gave me a knowing nod. “I like a truthful woman.”

Josh pulled me under his arm. “Well, this one is mine, so find your own.”

He laughed. “Hey, you know my policy on that one.”

“Gentlemen, I’m so glad I found you,” a deep voice came from behind us. We turned to see Major Trivette walking toward us, his cute five-year-old daughter on his hip. She had her father’s blond hair and solemn eyes. Way too solemn for a five-year-old. “Can I steal a few minutes?”

“I can take her,” I offered.

“No, you should stay. Abigail, why don’t you run and play with your friends?” he said, lowering her gently to the ground with a kiss. She gave him a small nod and raced off, her sundress bouncing as she ran for the swing set.

Major Trivette turned back to us. “I’m sorry I haven’t had the chance to check on you guys. I meant to so many times, but just…” He sighed. “Alice would never forgive me for that oversight.”

“Sir, you’ve been otherwise occupied, and we would never expect that of you,” Josh interjected.

“Well, nonetheless. How are you?”

“We’re both cleared for duty, sir,” Rizzo answered.

Hearing Rizzo say it felt like someone cocked a loaded shotgun and pointed it at my heart.

“Good, that’s good.” He looked to Josh. “She liked you. She said that you showed a great deal of promise. Courageous. I believe that was the word she used.”

Josh paled. “Rash, impetuous, foolish. I think those words might better suit.”

Major Trivette’s eyes narrowed. “You still blame yourself.”

“Well, sir, that falls squarely on my shoulders. You’ve read the report.” Josh tensed, and I wanted to reach out and hold him, to assure him again that it wasn’t his fault. I just wished I knew how many times I’d have to say it before he believed me.

“Yes. She gave the order to fly into that valley.”

“Because it was my best friend.”

“No,” Major Trivette snapped. “Don’t you dare take that from her. She would have made the call for any soldier. She was the pilot in command, not you, Walker. She knew what was at stake, and she chose to take her crew into battle. She chose to medevac those pilots. I miss her every time I take a breath, but I’m also incredibly proud of her. You can’t take that away by acting like she was guilted into going in. You and I both know Alice didn’t do a damn thing she didn’t want to.”

Josh picked at the label on his beer. “I am so sorry we lost her,” he said once he looked up.

Major Trivette reached across us and clasped Josh on the shoulder. “I am, too. God knows it. But she’d be proud of how she died. She’d be prouder that you two carried on and saved that other pilot. And I can tell you that she lived for the mission. She’d be the first in the saddle and back on the front line. Don’t ever think anything less. She died the way she lived, and it was her honor, not your fault. There’s a difference.”

Josh nodded, his jaw working. He was tightly strung, clinging to the strands of his control with slipping fingers. I added my hand to his, offering a quiet support that he took with a gentle squeeze. “She was a hell of a woman, sir.”

He looked over to where his children played. “She was.”

We left the barbecue early, both more than a little raw from the day’s events. As Josh sat in our living room that night, turning Will’s ring over in his hand, I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d just paved the way for closure, or ripped the scabs off anew.

One thing I’d learned about grief—it was almost impossible to tell the difference between the two.

They both hurt like hell.

Chapter Thirty

Josh

“Are you certain you want to do this?” Captain Brown asked me from behind his desk.

The gravity of my decision made it hard to breathe, to force out the words that I knew needed to be spoken. It wasn’t a question of what I wanted. It was a matter of what was right. Of what Will would do. What Captain Trivette would do. A matter of being the kind of man Ember deserved, even if she’d hate me for this. “Are you certain there’s not another date?”

He grimaced. “I am. This is the last one.”

Damn it.
“Then, yes, I am.”

“And you’ve thought this through?”

“Every day since I realized it was a possibility, sir.”

He fumbled through my file. “You’ve been cleared medically, flights have been good, psych released you.”

As long as I keep Dr. Henderson’s deal.
“Yes.”

He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the glass topper of his desk. “I’m not going to pretend to know what it was you went through over there, or what kind of mark that leaves on you. But I’d be a shit commander if I didn’t ask you one more time. So, are you absolutely certain this is what you want?”

Ember’s face flashed through my mind. She’d understand. She had to.
And if she doesn’t?
Fuck. At least she’d be better off. She deserved to love a whole man, and if I didn’t do this, I wouldn’t be. Ever. “I’m sure.”

He nodded and signed the top paper. “Okay. We’ll see you tomorrow. If you change your mind, Walker, just call me.”

I stood. My heart tore, suddenly at odds with what I’d been contemplating the last two weeks.
Stop.
“Thank you, sir.”

“For the record, I think what you’re doing is incredible.”

“It’s nothing more than what any other soldier would do, sir.” Before he could say anything else about how damn brave or selfless he thought it was, I got the hell out of his office. It was the last thing I wanted to hear, and it sure as hell wasn’t true.

“You tell her yet?” Rizzo asked, standing in the hallway as I closed Captain Brown’s door.

“No.”

He whistled low.

“Yeah, I know. She’s had a ton on her plate, deciding about going on this dig next week. I’ve even caught her trying to get out of it, and I’ll be damned if I let that happen.”

“You can’t tell me this is about her going on a dig.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s about us both doing what we need to. Ember and I have always been amazing together, but it’s because we’re both strong enough to stand on our own when we need to. It’s a hell of a foundation.”

“Pretty harsh timeline, though,” he muttered as we walked into the sunlight.

“Yeah, well, we had no control over that, either.”

Rizzo laughed. “Yeah, let me know when the US Army starts asking when things are convenient for us.”

“Maybe it’s when we stop making things so much harder on ourselves.”

“Yeah, like you dropping a SOAR packet?”

My steps faltered. “It’s just a thought. One discussion with one of their recruiters.”

“Yeah, well, thoughts become actions. For what it’s worth, you’re exactly the kind of pilot they’re looking for.”

“Still just a thought.”

We said good-bye in the parking lot, and I drove home, stopping along the way to pick up the last of the things on my list.

It had been two weeks since I’d been cleared to fly, and they’d gotten me up nearly every day. The first time had been the worst, but I hadn’t panicked. I’d pushed past it just like the pain.

Maybe I’d vomited once we’d landed, but I’d gotten through it.

I was back at it the next day. I focused all of myself on the controls, the flight, the technical aspects of flying, and did my best to forget that I’d almost been killed in that crash. Not so easy, yet I found that if I compartmentalized, it worked out.

I wasn’t going to let a little fear fuck over the soldiers who needed help. If they were bleeding, dying on the ground, I could risk bleeding, dying in the air. It was only right.

But driving home now, knowing what was about to happen…God, dying and bleeding sounded preferable.

“That smells so good,” Ember said as she walked into the house a few hours later.

“Don’t give me the credit. I cheated.” I waved the two bags from the local Italian restaurant and savored her laugh.

Takeout was all I’d had time to do, considering how I’d spent the hours after telling Brown my decision.

She dropped her bag and walked over to me in the kitchen, her legs three miles long in those shorts. “Hiya, babe.” She grinned and looped her arms around my neck.

“Hey, yourself.” I wrapped my arms around her waist and tried to take in everything about her in that moment. Ember’s hair trailed down her back, brushing my arms, the shorter layers framing her lightly freckled cheeks. Her eyes sparkled with happiness, drawing me in like always. Her mouth, those perfect lips, formed a contagious smile. She felt like a piece of heaven in my arms, the realization of every dream I’d been too scared to even think possible. And she was mine.

For now.

“What?” she asked, her trouble-radar working perfectly.

“I just really love you.” I swept my hands down her back to her tiny waist. “There’s nothing about you that I don’t love.”

“I love you, too,” she promised, but the suspicion was still there.

I kissed her, melding our mouths together in the sweetest way possible, taking my time. She leaned into me, her grip tightening on my neck as she kissed me back. I let her go just as her breath hitched, memorizing the sound.

She pulled back, quirking her head to the side. “Okay, I know something’s off. What is it?”

“Tell me how your day was first.” I dished food onto our plates, my appetite suddenly gone. She grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge. “Whoa. That bad?”

“Ha,” she said, no amusement in her tone. “I told Luke I couldn’t go on the dig.”

I nearly dropped the damn plate. “You what?”

She avoided my eyes, instead concentrating on opening the bottle. “I told him it just wasn’t the right time.”

My stomach churned, and it took every ounce of self control in my body to keep my voice level.
No. Not for me. Not because of me.
“What did he say?”

She popped the cork. “That I was making a mistake, and he’d hold off until tomorrow to tell Dr. Trimble so I could change my mind overnight.”

Overnight. You can fix this.
“You need to go.”

She poured the wine into two glasses. “Seriously, we’re not having this conversation again. This isn’t the time. You’re still healing—”

“I’m fine!” I lied. Her eyes flew toward mine, widening.
Fuck.
“I’m sorry. I’m fine,” I said softer. “I need you to stop assuming that I’m not. I’ve flown, I sleep, I eat, the nightmares have stopped. I need you to know that I’m okay.”

“I do know,” she replied in a near-whisper. “Maybe I’m not.”

“Maybe I need you to go.”

She flinched. “Why?”

“Because I need to know that I didn’t cost you the future you’ve worked your ass off for. I can’t let your dreams get crushed under mine. Now more than ever.”

Her eyes narrowed, her head tilting slightly. “Josh. What are you talking about? What did you do?”

I carried our plates past her to the table, setting them in our places. “Let’s have dinner, then we’ll talk.”

“Let’s talk now.”

“December—”

“What is it?” she pushed. “Why especially now?”

I hated everything about this, the way her voice pitched higher with worry, the frantic darting of her eyes, as if she could find something different about me. “I just think you might get pretty pissed at me soon.”
Pissed enough to run, like you should.

Was I really about to do this to her? She’d been through so much, and I just kept heaping it on. She didn’t deserve it.

I didn’t deserve her.

“Did you bring that bike back? Is the Ducati in there?” She stormed past me.

“Ember, no!” I called, but she’d already thrown open the garage door. I leaned over the kitchen counter, my hands gripping the granite so hard I was surprised I didn’t bleed.

“I swear, Josh, if you took that thing out of storage again, I’m—” She halted midsentence, and in that exact moment, I hated myself. I hated the life I’d chosen, the risks I took, the bags that she’d just found packed in our garage. I hated myself for loving her, for going after her in the first place, for putting her through this. Again.

“Why are your duffels packed?” she asked so quietly I barely heard her. I pulled air through my lungs, forcing my heart to beat.

“Because I’m leaving.”

She stood across from me, the island separating us, her stare burning a hole through my very soul. “Where are you going?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could block it all out, skip this, make everything perfect. But nothing was perfect in the world we lived in. It was all broken puzzle pieces slammed together, the edges jagged and tearing while we pretended it clicked, pretended that if we loved each other enough, the rest would fall in line. “You know where.”

“You’re going to have to say it.”

I sucked in a breath and looked up. My resolve nearly cracked there, with her eyes begging me not to confirm her worst fears. “December…”

“Say it.”

“Afghanistan.”

Her whimper damn near broke me. She looked away, her face showing so many emotions at once that I wasn’t sure even she knew how she felt. God, we were twin souls in that. “When?”

“Please don’t hate me.”

“Josh, when?” she snapped.

“Tomorrow.”

Her head whipped toward me, her every muscle going rigid. “What? You’re going to have to say that again, because I think you just told me that one, you’re going back to war, and two, you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

She shook her head. “That’s just not possible. I refuse to believe that’s possible.”

“I wasn’t officially cleared to deploy until this morning. Tomorrow is the last flight out to bring personnel. We only have two and a half months left in the rotation. Any later and there’s really no point in going.”

“Then don’t fucking go!” She slammed her hands onto the counter, and I cringed.

“I have to.”

“Were you ordered? Because I can’t believe that someone would order you to go back this soon after you almost died in that crash.”

Here it was, the line I knew she’d never understand me crossing, the wedge I wasn’t sure she could get past, or if she even should. This would be her reason to walk away. But she’d go to Turkey. She’d live her dream. “I volunteered. Rizzo and I both did.”

“You volunteered.” She drew out each syllable, looking for meaning I knew she couldn’t find.

“They’re short pilots—”

“It’s the army. They’re never short pilots. They can take them from whatever other unit has them. Don’t use that bullshit excuse on me. You’re going because you want to go.”

“That’s not it.” I stepped toward her, and she skirted around the island, keeping it between us. “You’ve seen it—the times I’m not here. It’s because parts of me are still there, Ember. My guys are there, my unit. What the hell kind of man heals up and then stays behind while his unit is at war?”

“The kind who lives! The kind who doesn’t promise his fiancée a wedding she might not get to have, because he’ll die this time around.” She choked on the last few words.

I wanted to tell her that I wouldn’t die, that her worry was unfounded, dramatic even. But how the hell could I do that when I knew what she said was the truth? When part of me felt like coming full circle would end with her holding my flag? “Would you want that man? The one who knows he’s capable of helping, of being where he’s needed, but does nothing? Who stays at home while others die in his place?”

Her chest heaved as her head hung low. Finally she looked up at me. “When it comes to you, to how much I love you, Josh, I have no morals. No honor. I would lie, cheat, murder, steal, dishonor everything I hold dear if it meant spending my life with you. No measure of duty, or God, or country could ever make up for losing you.”

“I can’t sit home while others risk their lives. This is the right thing to do, and you and I both know that what’s right and what’s easy are never the same thing. We’ve always chosen the hard road, but, baby, we’ve always come out on top.”

“Until we don’t. You’re playing Russian roulette every time you go, putting a gun to your head and pulling the trigger. You’ve nearly died twice. Lightning has struck you twice. What the hell happens when you go and this time you don’t come back?”

Words failed me. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t know, either. But this… How could you just spring this on me? How long have you known it was a possibility?”

“At the barbecue, Major Trivette said something that triggered me, about how Alice would have been the first back on the line, and I knew he was right. And that was the honorable thing to do. So Rizzo and I both asked the next day, and Captain Brown told us about the last flight out, but I swear, I didn’t know for certain I would even be capable of going until they’d gotten me back in the air. I’m current, ready for missions as of this morning.”

“And there was no point in this process where you thought you might want to tell me?”

“I didn’t know it was a definite possibility. There was nothing to tell.”

“Don’t you dare start lying to me now.” She grabbed the glass of wine on the counter and downed it like we were still in college. “You made this giant decision without so much as asking my opinion.”

“I already knew what it would be, and if there had been time to discuss it, we would have. They cleared me and needed the manifest all within the same hour.”

“Then get to a phone, Josh!” She leaned on her elbows, resting her forehead in her hands, and let out a primal cry. “How could you do this?”

The tears I saw hitting the granite fractured pieces of what was left of my soul and cracked my resolve. God, how
could
I do this to her? Leave again? After what she’d just been through? But how could she love the guy who didn’t go?

“Because it’s what we do.”
Do not yell.
I looked past her, to where Will’s West Point ring box still sat on the fireplace mantel. “It’s what Will would have done.”