Silent Shadows

by Natalie Walters

  With his left hand, Colton tossed the ball in a miserable attempt at a spiral. The ball wobbled through the air and was narrowly missed by Maceo’s outstretched arms before it bounced on the grass.

  Defeat furrowed Maceo’s brow as he reached down and grabbed the ball. “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. It was a bad throw.” Colton watched Maceo line the laces up against his fingers. He pulled back and let the ball fly through the air much better than Colton. “Nice.”

  “He still won’t tell me why he threw the kid to the ground.” Pecca’s words came to mind, and Colton tried another left-handed toss. “You didn’t tackle anyone to the ground, did you?”

  “No,” Maceo said, eyeing the ball in the air and adjusting his position. This time he caught it, but he didn’t throw it back right away. Instead, he started walking to Colton. “Do you think someone like me will ever be able to play football?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That’s why I pushed Tobey.” Maceo looked up, squinting beneath the sun. “He said it didn’t matter how good I was, I wouldn’t be allowed to play football on a real team because of my leg.”

  Maceo’s words gutted Colton and simultaneously made him want to teach this Tobey a lesson. “Listen to me, Maceo. If you work hard enough, you can do anything.” False! the voice in Colton’s head shouted. If that were true, you wouldn’t be here.

  “Like when Vincent James busted his leg?”

  An inflection of hope was in Maceo’s voice. Colton clenched his jaw as his eyes went to the movement in his arm—mocking proof that it didn’t matter how hard he worked. Some things just didn’t work out. But was he really going to tell that to Maceo?

  “How about we start with the Saint James Fake and you can show that Tobey kid who’s boss?”

  As the sun began its descent, Colton continued working with Maceo on the fake and the proper way to spiral a ball, until both of their faces were sweaty. Thankfully, Shirley had delivered a couple of water bottles earlier, which they had finished a few minutes ago.

  “You boys look like you’ve had too much fun.” Pecca crossed the lawn. She started to ruffle her fingers through Maceo’s hair but pulled back. “Eww. You’re sweaty.”

  Maceo rolled his eyes. “We’ve been working, Mom.”

  “I hope not too hard.” Her brown eyes flashed to Colton. “You don’t want to overdo it.”

  “Mom, do you want to see me throw a spiral?” Maceo was already running across the field, ball in hand.

  “What’s a spiral?”

  Colton’s lips pressed into a smile. “The way the ball spins in the air when he throws it.”

  “Oh, right.” Pecca watched Maceo. “Yes! I can’t wait to see the spiral.”

  Maceo made a face before he shrugged. He launched the ball into the air toward Colton in a nearly perfect spiral. A little more practice, and he’d have it down. Colton took two steps back just as the ball sailed into his left arm.

  “Great toss, Maceo!”

  They turned to see David, the Army sergeant Pecca had introduced to him the other day in the gym, making his way toward them.

  “Hey, Pecca!” David gave Colton an apologetic smile. “I’m not great with names.”

  “Colton,” Pecca said before Colton could. “Everything okay?”

  “Oh, that’s right. Vincent James’s friend.” Colton sensed a bit of a bite to David’s tone, but as he hobbled closer, he was all smiles. “I stopped by to see if I could pick you and Maceo up tonight.”

  Colton sensed Pecca stiffen, and from the look on David’s face, he noticed it as well and quickly added, “The bet. Maceo won’t let me off the hook. Not that I would either when it comes to ice cream.” He looked Colton in the eyes. “Just a double scoop this time.”

  “Oh, right.” Pecca’s shoulders relaxed. “Um, well, I’ll have to check how much homework he has. You know, after the suspension and all.”

  “Of course.” David nodded. “Education is the most important thing, my dad used to always say.”

  Maceo ran up. “Mister David, do you want to see what Colton taught me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You wait here,” Maceo said to Colton, handing him the football. “Pretend I’m Vincent and you throw me the ball like we practiced.”

  “Okay.”

  All three adults watched Maceo line up on the grass, pretending he was preparing for the snap of the ball.

  “How long you been out of the Army?” David said, shifting his cane.

  Colton watched Maceo fight off imaginary defensive linemen as he moved back, preparing for the ball. “Thirteen months, eleven days.”

  David whistled. “Down to the day, huh?”

  When Maceo was ready, Colton pulled back with his left arm and let the ball loose. He sighed in relief that the throw wasn’t half bad, considering it was his nondominant arm—and he was in front of Pecca.

  And David.

  “Great job, Maceo!” Pecca yelled, clapping. David clapped too.

  Colton wasn’t sure what to make of David, but he’d be willing to bet a triple scoop sundae that David had feelings for the woman standing between them. “What about you?”

  David tapped his cane on the ground. “Oh, uh, it’s been a couple of years.”

  “That from the war?”

  “Yeah. Third Infantry Division, Bagram Air Base.”

  Colton’s ears perked up. “Oh yeah? I have a buddy who was part of the 3ID Bulldog Brigade. Captain Helwig. You know him?”

  “Uh,” David tilted his head, his eyes searching as if trying to place the name. “I-I don’t think I do.” He shifted and peered down at his leg. “Since the explosion, there are some things I can’t really remember.”

  Pecca put a reassuring hand on David’s arm. “I think that’s the brain’s way of protecting us from remembering the bad stuff.”

  Colton might’ve agreed with her if his gut wasn’t saying something else. The infantry division from Fort Stewart wasn’t small, but it wasn’t so big that David wouldn’t know the name of a company commander.

  “Maceo, it’s time to go.” Pecca waved Maceo over. “Tell Colton thank you.”

  “We’re meeting again tomorrow, right?” Maceo looked up at Colton. “I still need to perfect the fake.”

  “How about we discuss the homework situation first?” Pecca said.

  That reminded Colton of Maceo’s confession about the kid at school. Should he say something to Pecca or let Maceo tell her?

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” David said and then leaned close to Maceo. “So we can convince your mom to let me take you guys out for ice cream.”

  As expected, Maceo’s eyes lit up. He spun around and stared up at Pecca with pleading eyes. “Please, Mom. Please.”

  Pecca shot David an exasperated look, and Colton didn’t know why, but he really wanted her to say no.

  “Fine. As long as you promise to do all your homework and eat all your dinner and”—she held up a finger to Maceo—“you only get one scoop.”

  “But—”

  “One scoop is all you need.”

  “Fine.” Maceo’s shoulders hunched, and he mumbled, “But the bet was for two.”

  Colton hated the feeling snaking around his stomach. It felt a lot like jealousy—but what was making him jealous? It wasn’t like Colton could take Pecca out for ice cream. He could barely throw a spiral for Maceo.

  “Well, I guess I better get inside. If I don’t get to the kitchen before Gunny, he makes me sing the Marine Corps song, which I don’t know, while Sarge hollers something about the Marines being shark bait.”

  Pecca laughed. “Maybe I should stay for dinner. I bet that’s a sight.”

  Maybe you should. Colton cringed inwardly. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “First thing in the morning.” Pecca smiled, her eyes lingering on his before she looked away. “Say goodbye, Maceo.”

  “Goodbye, Maceo,” Maceo mimicked.

  Pecca rolled h
er eyes and then winked at Colton. From the corner of his eye, he could see David giving him a less-than-approving look. In fact, Colton felt like the man was sizing him up. Did David think Colton was competition?

  “David.” Colton gave him a nod before starting across the grass to the Mansion. He smiled. Part of him wanted to reassure the guy that he had nothing to worry about. Another part of him—a super tiny part that Colton could easily ignore if he wanted to—was sickly satisfied that David found him to be a threat.

  ELEVEN

  THE MOUTH-WATERING AROMA of cinnamon and sugar and all things deliciously unhealthy pulled Pecca into the staff kitchen at the Mansion.

  “I knew this would work.”

  Pecca halted at the doorway to find Lane and Shirley sitting at the table with a box of cinnamon rolls in front of them. Lane slid the box forward an inch.

  “Would you like one?”

  Pecca glanced between them, feeling like she should be suspicious but unsure why. “What’s going on?”

  “Aw, nothing, honey.” Shirley smiled and patted the table. “Lane brought over these delicious treats for the residents, and since you have a bit of time before your next patient, we hoped you might join us.”

  Something didn’t feel right. Pecca shot a look at Lane, who was biting her lip like a teenage girl about to divulge her secret crush. Slowly, Pecca stepped into the room and sat, eyeing them both. Shirley took a paper plate from the table and scooped a roll onto it, the cream cheese frosting dripping over the side.

  She set the plate in front of Pecca. “I just made a fresh pot of coffee too.”

  “Okay, that’s it.” Pecca leaned against the back of the chair and folded her arms over her chest. “What’s going on here?”

  The two women exchanged a mischievous look, and Pecca edged forward in her seat.

  “Come on, guys. Spill it.”

  “We’re sorta hoping you’ll be the one doing the spilling,” Lane said, a sparkle in her eye. “A little bird told us you had a date last night.”

  A date? Pecca could barely remember what she’d had for breakfast, so she had to think for a second. “Wait. With David? The ice cream? That wasn’t a date.”

  “That’s not what Mrs. Kingsley said,” Shirley cooed.

  Pecca rolled her eyes. “Mrs. Kingsley has been trying to marry off her grandson since Lane moved back to town.”

  “That’s true.” Lane rubbed her belly. “But why didn’t you tell me you were going on a date?”

  “Because it wasn’t a date,” Pecca said. “David made a bet with Maceo and lost.” She reached for the plate and pulled apart a piece of the roll. “Y’all should know better than to listen to gossip.”

  “If it quacks like a duck . . .” Shirley made a face like she wasn’t buying it. “David’s been building the confidence to ask you out since he got here.”

  “Yeah, and he’s not bad looking,” Lane added. “Nice. I heard he’s been volunteering at the elementary school. Meagan says he’s agreed to man the jumping balloon at the fall festival.”

  Pecca sighed around her bite of cinnamon roll. She wasn’t unaware of David’s feelings. Lately, she noticed he was coming around the Mansion in between his volunteer days. And even though he wasn’t as quirky as Ryan, David stepped into the friend role the former deputy had left vacant, winning Maceo over—even if it was with ice cream.

  “So, do you like him?”

  “He’s nice,” Pecca answered Lane. She slid the plate away. What a waste of a perfectly good cinnamon roll. “He’s just not—”

  “Lighting your fire?” Shirley raised her eyebrows. “Revving your motor? Sweetening your tea?”

  “Colton?”

  “What?” Pecca’s gaze shot to Lane. “No, I don’t . . . he’s not . . . why—”

  Shirley laughed. “Ooh, now she’s got you, honey.”

  Just spit it out. Colton doesn’t light my tea or rev my fire or— She shook her head. “Captain Crawford is my patient.”

  Lane shrugged, her hands cradling her belly. “So?”

  Pecca widened her eyes at Lane. “So, there are rules.” She looked to Shirley. “Right?”

  “I wouldn’t know, child.” She picked a piece of lint off her peach blouse. “There’s only one man who sizzles my bacon.”

  Lane made a face before she and Pecca burst into laughter. A second later Shirley joined in, and the hysterics continued until Pecca’s side ached and tears streamed down Lane’s face. Pecca’s watch beeped, and there was a collective moan around the table.

  “Back to work.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Shirley tapped her fingernails on the table. “Chaplain Kelly left you a note in Captain Crawford’s file. Said he’d like you to look at it before your appointment with him today.”

  “Okay.” Pecca stood, purposely ignoring the expectant looks on their faces. She knew what they were waiting for and she wasn’t going to give them anything—because there was nothing to give. “I’ll see you two later.”

  “Have a good session, honey.”

  “Yeah, a good session,” Lane said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

  Oh, brother. No matter what Lane claimed, she was just as bad as Mrs. Kingsley. It took Ryan kissing Vivian in the middle of the Peach Bowl this past summer for Lane to accept that he and Pecca would only ever be friends. Now that Colton was here, it seemed her romantic heart was set on Pecca making a choice between him and David.

  And Pecca blamed Charlie.

  Ever since Charlie had come to town and swept Lane into lovey-dovey bliss, she’d wanted everyone else to experience a Hallmark-worthy relationship like theirs—or apparently the bacon-sizzling kind like Shirley shared with her husband.

  Walking across the gravel pathway to the gym, Pecca bit her lip. There was no choice. Colton was her patient and David was . . . not sizzling or revving anything. Pecca jerked to a stop, her eyes scanning the area around her as though someone might’ve heard her thoughts.

  A friend.

  David was a friend. Colton was her patient. And if Pecca didn’t get her head out of the clouds, she wouldn’t have time to read Chaplain Kelly’s note before Colton showed up for his session. Pecca hoped it wasn’t bad news.

  Inside the gym, she opened her laptop and read through Colton’s file, breathing a sigh of relief. It wasn’t bad. It was a suggestion. A good one too. She looked around the gym, her mind making a quick list of options. After watching Colton with Maceo last night on the grass, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought about it.

  “Morning.” Colton’s voice echoed from the doorway where he stood in a Dallas Mustangs T-shirt, the sleeves cut off, exposing his lean, muscular arms. The involuntary movement in his right arm triggered the muscles to flex, and Pecca couldn’t help remembering what it felt like when his arms were wrapped around her. Safe and protecting.

  Gracious. If she didn’t want Lane and Shirley’s romantic notions messing with her, she’d better stay focused.

  “Good morning.” Pecca added extra perkiness to her voice, hoping it would silence the traitorous thumping of her heart. She needed to keep perspective. She reached under the counter and grabbed a yellow tennis ball. “Think fast.”

  She threw the ball at Colton. His reaction was quick, but the movement in his arm slowed his response. He tried to grab the ball but missed, sending it bouncing across the room.

  He frowned. “What was that?”

  “We’re going to try something new today.” Pecca pulled out a bucket of balls and gave him a wicked smile before throwing another at him. This time he was ready and grabbed it with his left hand easily. “Don’t drop that ball.”

  “Wha—”

  Pecca threw another, this time harder. Colton’s right hand swung up just before the ball would’ve smashed him in the face. She whooped. “Did you see that?”

  Colton made a face. “What? Are you trying to—”

  Another ball flew at him. Colton dropped both balls to grab it using his dominant arm.
>
  “What are you doing?”

  “Throwing the ball triggers your brain to respond instinctively, sending the signal to your arms to catch it before it hits your face.”

  “So you were aiming for my face?”

  “I had to get your body to respond naturally.”

  Colton gave her a hard stare as though he was trying to figure out if she was crazy. She was about to explain further when a ball came flying at her. She ducked.

  “Hey!”

  “Just checking your natural response.” The side of his lip quirked into an impish grin.

  Pecca narrowed her eyes playfully. “Remember who’s in charge here, Captain Colton.”

  Over the next half hour, Pecca threw balls at him. They laughed at the ones he missed, which he firmly blamed on her, pointing out that he was the one with a movement disorder in his arm. She tried to catch him off guard, but Colton was fast and Pecca couldn’t help remembering how swiftly his instincts responded to protect her.

  A flicker of heat swelled in her chest, distracting her.

  “Heads up!”

  But Colton’s warning came too late and the tennis ball struck her in the arm.

  “Ow!”

  “I’m so sorry.” Colton ran over and rubbed Pecca’s arm. “Are you okay? I thought you were watching. I shouldn’t have thrown it so hard.”

  There was no mistaking the guilt in Colton’s eyes or the way his fingers were stoking the flame with every stroke against her skin.

  “It’s okay.” Pecca brought her fingers to the sore spot, effectively forcing Colton to withdraw his hand. His expression shifted and she couldn’t tell if it was hurt or disappointment, but it prodded her to convince him she was fine. She nudged him with her shoulder. “If you wanted a water break, you could’ve just told me.”

  Colton shook his head, but she saw him try to conceal the smile playing at his lips.

  “You know, without your beard you definitely look less Unabomber-ish.”

  “Did you just compare me to the Unabomber?” Colton let his jaw drop in mock dismay. “I thought bearding was all the rage these days.”