Chapter 8
“I have coffee on,” Erin said.
As she stood up from where they’d taken seats in the living room to head for the kitchen, she rubbed her hands down her legs in that way she’d always had.
Especially if she was nervous. Blaine supposed he should be thinking about why she was nervous, but all he could think about in that moment was those legs, and how it had felt to have them wrapped around him while he buried himself in her.
Not now, idiot.
He took the chance while she was gone to look around.
The gardening had extended indoors, he saw, with several potted plants adding a touch of greenery to the room.
The couch they were on was comfortable, arranged so it faced what looked like a gas fireplace, and a flat-screen atop a cabinet beside it.
The other side of the fireplace was taken up by a floor-to-ceiling, full bookcase.
She’d always loved to read, had preferred print, and that clearly hadn’t changed.
The color scheme was appropriately beachy, given they were only about five miles as the seagull flies from the Pacific.
White, sand, and a light blue seemed to be the theme, both in furniture, pillows, and a framed painting on the wall opposite the fireplace, between two large windows that looked out onto the remarkable garden she’d created.
But what really caught his eye were the three photos on the wall opposite where they were sitting.
One was of her parents, who lived in Florida.
The next was of her getting what looked like a degree, given she was wearing some kind of school robes like people wore at graduations.
But it was the third photo that snagged his full attention.
Ethan, at eight years old, wearing the child-sized flight suit Blaine had tracked down when his son had announced he wanted to be a pilot just like his dad.
How had he gone from that little boy in the jumpsuit to…whatever he was now?
Don’t be stupid, you know how.
He shook off the unsettled feeling that had taken over his gut. Saw Rafe watching him, but thankfully the man didn’t say anything.
“You finally got your garden,” he said to Erin when she came back with a tray carrying three mugs and a bowl of sugar and a small jug of cream or milk, he wasn’t sure.
She took both if she hadn’t changed, while he took just a spoon of sugar.
Rafe accepted his mug with thanks, and shook his head to the offer of either.
She’d always made good coffee, and at his first sip he knew it was still true.
“I did,” she said. “It wasn’t much when we got here, but now it looks good, I think.”
“It’s incredible,” he said, past the knot in his throat. He’d never been able to give her that.
“Labor-intensive,” Rafe commented, but he said it admiringly.
“Yes,” she admitted. And then, with a slight shakiness Blaine couldn’t miss, she set her mug down. “Maybe I spent too much time on it. Maybe if I’d spent more on Ethan he wouldn’t—”
“Stop it,” Blaine said. “Don’t blame yourself for this.”
For the first time she met his gaze head-on. And it didn’t matter how long it had been, he still recognized the pain in her blue eyes. “How can I not? I’m the one who—”
She cut herself off and looked sharply away.
The one who what? Blaine wondered. Didn’t notice any trouble? Expected too much from the kid? Was too hard on him? He didn’t think any of that was true. It just wasn’t who Erin was.
But that left only one thing he could think of, one thing that could have made Ethan angry enough to run away.
She’d broken up their family.
But that had been two years ago. Why would Ethan take off now, after all that time? Was it simply that he was older now, going through those early teenage years? Or had something else triggered this?
He stood up abruptly. “Where’s his room?”
“The far end of the hall,” Erin answered, starting to rise as well.
“No. Stay here.” He didn’t want her with him when he looked at Ethan’s room. He wouldn’t be able to focus, and he wanted to look at every inch of it.
“Erin.” He heard Rafe’s voice, low, gentle, but commanding. Blaine didn’t look back but kept going in the direction she’d pointed.
She didn’t follow.
* * *
Erin wasn’t sure why she’d felt compelled to stop herself from following Blaine down the hall.
But something in the way the other man had spoken…
and then the dog had gotten up and put himself between her and the hallway, not aggressively, not like a dog who wanted something, or a dog who was hungry or wanted out, but one who wanted to tell her she shouldn’t take another step.
Politely.
“He needs a minute,” Rafe said, nodding in the direction Blaine had gone. “Maybe a few.” He hesitated before adding, as if he wasn’t sure he should, “This isn’t easy for him, either.”
At least he’d acknowledged this was uncomfortable for both of them. She sat back down and looked at him again, studied him in a way she hadn’t before, because she’d been so distracted by Blaine’s presence.
“Blaine said, back then, that you were…a sniper?”
“I was.”
“He said you were one of the best ever, short only of the man the trophy you kept winning is named after. Sorry, I can’t remember—”
“Hathcock. Carlos Hathcock.”
She nodded, recognizing the name now. But she couldn’t quite suppress an inward shudder, which she hoped didn’t show. She knew they were crucial, that they saved lives, but…
“That makes you nervous?”
“Not nervous. I admire anybody who does such a…rough job. I just can’t imagine what it must be like. Killing like that.”
He studied her for a long moment, and she wondered if she’d offended him. It would figure, he comes to help a friend, and she screws it up.
Finally he spoke, and if he was angry, it didn’t show. “Hathcock probably said it best. He said he never enjoyed killing, but it was his job. And if he didn’t do it, they were going to kill a lot of kids dressed up like Marines.”
“I…never thought of it quite like that.”
“He had a unique viewpoint. And saved a lot of our guys.”
“Blaine said you saved another pilot he went through training with. Who was about to get shot down with an RPG.”
“I remember,” Rafe said after a moment of thinking. “And Blaine told me he came home, got married and has three kids. So far.”
She smiled at that. And didn’t miss his point, that if not for him that father would be dead and those kids wouldn’t exist.
“So,” she began again, shifting to what he’d said, that Blaine had told him about the other pilot, “you and Blaine have stayed in touch? I didn’t realize.”
“Sort of,” Rafe answered. “I mean, we touched base now and then. Probably should have done better, given he saved my life, but…reality gets in the way.”
“And yet when he does call you, after all that time…”
“I come running.” He smiled, a little crookedly. “A little lopsided, but running.”
She shook her head. “Men. It’s amazing how you can do that, just drop into each other’s lives after months, even years, and pick up as if nothing’s changed.”
He studied her for a moment. Then let out a compressed breath. And when he spoke, she couldn’t help thinking there was something deeply personal in what he said. “And I don’t get how women have to do constant maintenance. But I guess I’d better learn.”
“Someone you need to get to know?” It was a guess, but she would have bet money she was right.
“Someone I’ve known for a long time, loved for a long time. But…we fell apart years ago. Because of me.”
She sensed there was something more. “But?”
He smiled then, widely, warmly, and it changed everything about him. “We’ve put it back together. Stronger this time.” He held her gaze a moment before saying quietly, “It can be done. Even if the breach is…huge.”
She knew that was aimed at her. But she shook her head. “Too much damage.”
“That’s what I thought, too.”
She tilted her head as she studied him. She wouldn’t have expected this man to be so…open with someone he didn’t even know. But maybe this was part of the debt he felt he owed Blaine. She was getting the feeling there wasn’t much this man wouldn’t do to help.
But he couldn’t help with this. She hadn’t just broken up their marriage, she’d shattered it.
“I was young,” she said, unable to stop it from pouring out. “I’d always loved Blaine, and I had some silly ideas about being married to a pilot. The pride, the…the glamour, I guess. Before I realized what came with it, the constant fear.”
“Being a military wife is a job like no other.”
She couldn’t shake the feeling that this was…unusual for this man. He clearly wasn’t saying all this easily. She could almost feel he was having to work at opening up like this, but yet he was doing it.
“It is a job,” she agreed. One I wasn’t very good at.
“Especially when there are children involved.”
She sighed. “Yes. And now they both hate me. Blaine and Ethan.”
“You’re wrong,” the man said, a little gruffly. She stared at him. “This isn’t my business, but I’ve been there, so I’m going to say this and then shut up. Blaine feels a lot of things about you, but I guarantee hatred isn’t one of them.”
She couldn’t miss the utter certainty in the man’s voice and expression. I’ve been there…
“The one you put it back together with?” she said softly. “She’s a lucky woman.”
“I’m the lucky one,” he said, just as softly, although she guessed his earlier gruff tone was more the norm for him.
Just then Blaine emerged from the hallway. He had something in his hand but she couldn’t see what it was.
“What stuff did he take? And what did he put it in?”
She blinked. “What?”
“A pile of schoolbooks was dumped in the closet. Did he have a backpack for those?”
“I…yes. A blue one.” She should have mentioned that. At the moment she was just surprised that he’d figured that out.
“What’s missing?”
“What?”
His voice took on that tone of extra patience, and she didn’t blame him this time. She was so rattled she wasn’t thinking straight.
“What things did he take with him?”
“He emptied my wallet of cash. Didn’t take credit cards or anything else, though.”
“What about clothes, shoes… It might be a clue to where he went.”
“Oh.” She’d noticed a couple of things that were gone, that she’d mentioned to the police officer who sadly looked as if he took reports like this every day. But she hadn’t thought to go through all his clothes. She stood up. “I’ll go look.”
She started that way, but had to pass Blaine to do it, and stopped when he lifted his hand and showed her what he’d been holding.
“I found this.”
She winced when she saw it was the photograph Ethan had always had up on the mirror over his dresser.
Or rather, half of that photo. It was from their wedding, and the half left behind was her in that flowing dress she had so loved.
The other half, Blaine, looking sharp, impressive and impossibly handsome in full uniform, was gone.
Carefully, almost surgically removed, as if Ethan had wanted every trace of her gone, without doing any damage to his father.
She couldn’t blame him, not anymore.
“I’m not surprised. He’d want the half he took with him.” Somehow, she managed to keep her tone neutral. Although she wasn’t sure if she hadn’t, whether it would have come out cold, or just bitter.
“When did it become a half?” Blaine asked, sounding as if it was a strain for him, too, to keep his voice even.
“It must have been when he…decided to leave.”
“Where did he keep it?”
“Tucked into the frame of his mirror. With me hidden underneath the frame. So he could see you all the time.” Okay, some of the bitter had crept in that time.
“I found this on the floor, under the bed. So he didn’t throw it away.”
“Or burn it?” she suggested. The bitter was starting to win.
“If he was in a hurry,” Rafe said, “and rushing around, it might have ended up there unintentionally, if it wasn’t taped or pinned.”
“It wasn’t,” she said. “I wouldn’t let—” She broke off suddenly, thinking how bad what she’d been about to say would sound, under the circumstances.
“You wouldn’t let him mess up the furniture,” Blaine said, his tone so neutral she knew it was intentional just as hers had been.
“It was new,” she said, knowing how lame it sounded. How demanding it made her sound. How hard to live with. Was he thinking no wonder Ethan had run away? Was he thinking he was lucky to have escaped?
“We never had new furniture.” Now there was something different in his voice, something gentler, almost understanding.
“No,” she said. “We never did.”
“We didn’t need…things.”
Heat, and she was sure color, flooded her cheeks. Because he was absolutely right. They hadn’t needed things. Because they’d had each other. And that was all she’d ever wanted.
And now that he was here in front of her, alive and healthy, she was afraid she still did.