Chapter 4
ELENA
After a fitful night of sleep, I’m up early with time to spare before I have to wake T.J. up for school. I'm usually good at separating work from home life, but the fire has my brain shifting into administrator mode before the sun rises.
The school is my responsibility, and the situation calls for tighter security. Getting it out of my head and onto paper, I make a list: Bus line supervision. Visitor check-in. Emergency contact updates.
I'll control what I can, and handle the rest when it arrives.
With more time to spare, I decide to look through the box in the den closet that holds some of Tyler’s military things. Among the photos, I find the one I’m looking for, a picture of him with his last team.
I locate Buck in the picture immediately, but it takes several seconds of scanning faces to identify the other two men.
It’s easy to see why I didn’t recognize any of them here in town.
I never saw them much in San Diego anyway, but in addition to changes in their grooming, the men look different now, weathered in a way that goes beyond typical aging.
The picture was only taken four years ago, but they look like they’ve been through a decade of hard times.
Not that their world-weariness has made them unattractive. Not at all.
I wish, for my sake, it had.
I was surprised Buck didn’t ask how I ended up in the same town as all of them. Maybe Tyler had shared his dreams for the future with his brothers-in-arms, and Buck connected the dots when he saw me.
Things feel different now, knowing three men from my husband’s past are nearby. A little part of me feels a glimmer of comfort about their proximity, but a larger part of me is wary, for multiple reasons. They know things I don’t, and it’s hard not to let that bother me.
I tuck everything carefully back into the box, including the piece of my heart that lives with these things, and slide it back into the closet. It’s time to get Tyler, Jr. out of bed.
He’s not a morning person, and maybe that’s because he often doesn’t sleep well.
After some cajoling, he gets up, gets dressed, and joins me at the table for breakfast, where I slide a plate of French toast sticks in front of him.
“Think you’ll finish your LEGO project tonight?”
He pauses with the spoon mid-air, and thinks for a moment before answering. “Yes, depending on how much homework Mr. Nash gives us.”
There’s so much in T.J. that reminds me of Tyler. That pause before answering a question. His long fingers, and how strong his grip is. He flies through building projects, and chooses to challenge himself with difficult kits.
“Your amount of homework is pretty consistent, isn’t it?”
“It depends how much everybody talks during the day,” he says.
While we eat, we talk more about his class, about his friend David, and other random topics. It’s a bit of everyday, normal life that I savor, even when things are stressful.
Once we’re at school, I give T.J. a hug and we head in our separate directions.
Moon Ridge Elementary is a wonderful school. Up until yesterday, I was feeling incredibly lucky to be here, and I still am, despite the danger that’s tracked me down.
This is my first position as principal, and at thirty-two, I’m younger than most people expect for the role. If we’d stayed in the city, it would have likely taken several more years to reach this level, but in rural areas like Moon Ridge, schools struggle to fill positions.
It’s not as if I’m inexperienced, though.
Aside from maternity leave, I’ve been working in education since I graduated from college, and I earned my master’s degree online when T.J.
was little. I thought I’d have an uphill battle earning the staff’s respect here, but everyone has generally been supportive and kind, and the school year’s been going well.
After quickly checking my voicemail and email, I go back outside to greet students as they arrive by bus and car.
After the bell rings, I review an attendance report, prepare for a meeting with the counselor, respond to a new district email, and meet with a parent who drops in.
I always plan my day, and I always end up reacting to whatever comes up.
At first, this felt like a failure on my part, but I’ve learned it’s how things go.
The work still gets done, just not necessarily in the order I’m aiming for.
Mid-morning, I receive a text message from Kira Parker. She’s quickly become my closest friend in Moon Ridge, even though she gave me a fake name when we first met, which is a long story.
“I’m coming into town today. Any chance you can get away for lunch?” she asks.
The idea is tempting, but the stacks of files on my desk and my early afternoon lineup of meetings dampen my enthusiasm.
“Sorry, I don’t think I can get away today,” I text back. “Any chance you can drop by the school for a quick coffee break around 11? I can brew a pot of decaf for you in the teacher’s lounge.”
She sends back a laughing emoji. “I’ll be there, but I’ll bring coffee for both of us. I don’t trust the teachers to have coffee without caffeine.”
I chuckle at that. We’re all a pretty caffeinated bunch around here, but Kira is seven months pregnant, and she usually opts for herbal tea.
I dive back into my paperwork, and it seems like only a few minutes pass before Kira’s tapping on my open door. She comes in, closes it behind her by nudging it with her elbow and hip, then hands me one of the cups she’s carrying before she sits in a chair across from my desk.
“I got you a caramel latte,” she says.
“You know I drink coffee black.”
Kira sets her drink on the edge of the desk before she unzips her coat. “And I also know you like it better when you let yourself have the sweet stuff.”
I laugh as I inhale the nutty scent. “You’re right. Thank you.”
“What happened across the street? When did that building burn?”
Kira just came through a dangerous ordeal, so I hesitate before I answer. I know she’d offer a sympathetic ear to anything I wanted to discuss, but I don’t want to cause her any stress, especially since she’s pregnant.
Plus, I’d rather set my troubles aside for a few minutes and enjoy some girl talk.
“There was a small fire there the other night. The building’s just used for storage, so no real harm was done,” I tell her.
“Oh. Okay. Well, that’s good. Was it an electrical fire?”
“They’re still investigating.” It’s not a lie, even though it’s not the full truth. I just can’t bring myself to want to talk about it.
Her smile returns, along with a twinkle in her eye. “Did you happen to see any hunky firemen at the scene?”
Kira caught me looking once, a few weeks ago, when she and one of her men, Silas, came to the park with T.J.
and me. While Silas tossed a football with T.J.
, she and I were walking on the trail that looped the park.
Two firemen, one of whom I now know was Weston, were doing something with a hydrant near the parking lot, and I guess I might have watched them a bit longer than necessary.
That day, she teased me about it gently, and even more gently asked if I dated.
I told her I hadn’t dated anyone since before I was married, and I hadn’t had any desire to.
Privately, I wondered if my attraction to the good-looking firemen was a sign that I might be ready to start thinking about it.
“About that …” I say now, not sure how much I should tell her, but feeling the need to process the things I found out last night with someone.
“You did see those hunky firemen,” she says. “I can see it in your eyes—but what’s wrong?”
I’m sure my expression must be complicated, because my feelings definitely are.
“I talked to the fire marshal yesterday and found out he and two of the other firefighters were on my husband’s SEAL team. Buck, the marshal, was actually in charge of Tyler’s unit.”
Kira freezes, with mouth open and brows lifted.
“Buck used to tell Tyler about how nice this area is, and Tyler talked about us moving to the mountains someday, which is how I ended up here.”
“That’s wild,” Kira says. “Atlas told me a few of the firefighters had been SEALs, but I’d have never imagined they knew your husband.”
“They not only knew him, they fought beside him. They probably knew Tyler as well as I did.”
Kira blinks, taking this in. “How do you feel about it? I know you moved up here for a change of pace.”
“I’m not sure what to think.”
Kira’s watching me closely. She doesn’t push. She takes a sip of her drink and stays quiet, encouraging me to talk.
“They’re … not hard to look at, all three of them, and that’s a problem.”
My friend frowns at this. “Why is it a problem?”
“I shouldn’t be interested in men who were close to Tyler … and I can’t afford to be attracted to men who run toward danger.”
Kira tilts her head, smiling sympathetically. “Loving dangerous men doesn’t always end in tragedy,” she says softly. Her hand is resting on her rounded belly, and I find myself smiling back at her.
She’s living with three former Marines who would, and nearly did, give their lives for her. She understands.
But my situation is different. “Being attracted to them feels like betraying Tyler’s memory.”
Still watching me closely, she says, “Do you think Tyler would have seen it that way?”
I shrug as I consider her question. Even if Tyler had time to prepare for his death, I can’t imagine he’d have thought about me being involved with men he knew.
“If you don’t mind me offering advice, I think you should stay open,” she says.
“Even if nothing romantic develops, T.J. might like to talk to men who knew his father well. He might like to hear stories they have. I was young when my mom passed, and I was always grateful to meet people who knew her.”
“I didn’t know about your mom. I’m sorry,” I say, “That’s a good point. Thank you.”
The lunch bell rings, bringing me out of our heavy conversation and back to the present moment. “I’m sorry to have to cut this short. I need to go soon.”
“No problem,” Kira says. “I’m glad you could spare a few minutes.”
Before she leaves, she pulls me into a hug. “You deserve to be happy, Elena. Maybe it doesn’t seem like a priority when you have a child, but it should be.”