She raised her glass. “To Tommy. Wherever he is.”
With a clink, they toasted as the country music shifted to holiday songs. Bing Crosby crooned about a “White Christmas”.
Trey lifted his glass a second time. “And to his wife, the world traveler.”
She took another sip of water. “To lessons learned.”
“Maybe,” Trey suggested, “this last year wasn’t about him at all.” Maybe Tommy wanted to give a piece of his life to her. Maybe the year had changed her more than even she saw.
She sent him an ironic smile. “Maybe so. Turns out, I managed to find myself again, maybe much the same way he found himself in all those things he accomplished. Know what I’ve learned during my travels?” she said. “If I put one foot in front of the other, and keep moving, I magically arrive somewhere new. Unstuck.”
He grinned. “So that’s it? Just keep moving?”
“No. Like I said, the traveling is all behind me now. I have other plans. Well, one, anyway.”
“Which is?” He was asking for a rope. Something to hang onto with her.
She shook her head, refusing to tell him. “I need to get this part behind me first. Then, I’ll have a clean slate to work with. One day, maybe, I’ll tell you.”
Fair enough. But his curiosity was piqued. They ate dinner and talked about nothing. ‘Nothing’ was a topic they could both live with tonight. But the subject left a void in the pit of Trey’s stomach. Being with her made him realize how long he’d wanted to sit across the table from her, just him and her, talking, sharing food. Without Tommy between them.
She raised her hand and signaled the waitress for the check. “I need to get checked into my hotel,” she said, pulling her wallet from her purse.
He stopped her with his hand, warning her with a look. “My treat. And I hope you know you’re staying at my new house.” It wasn’t a question.
“What? No, I’ve got a reservation at the Graff Hotel.”
He shrugged. “Cancel it. I can’t let you stay at a hotel. I know this will come as a shock, but I’ve gone to some effort to make my four guest bedrooms inhabitable. Comfortable, even. And it would be a real shame if all that domestic effort went to waste.”
“Four?” She laughed. “And domestic effort by Commander Reyes? You? Now I have heard everything.”
“What? I can—” he searched for the word “—shop.”
She couldn’t hide her amusement. “Really? Let’s put it this way. If there was ever a man less likely to be decorating a house than you, I never met him.”
He raised his hands. “Okay. Fine. So, maybe I didn’t do it completely—”
“Ah-hah!” She giggled.
“—alone.” Trey grinned and toyed with his drink. “Eve Canaday…might have helped me.”
“Ohh…” She raised her brows. “Eve Canaday, is it?”
He gestured her hope down with his palm. “She’s just a friend. An engaged friend.”
“Oh.” She settled against the bench seat with a small frown.
“But her skills as event planner bled over into wanting my house to look habitable. And who was I to stop her? You’ll meet her. I hope. All of them.”
“Well…” she hedged. “You know I’d like to. I really would. I-I may not be here long enough, though. I really can’t stay long.” She glanced at the calendar on her watch. “I’m here until the weekend. The eve of Christmas Eve at the latest.”
His chest tightened. A week. That was all the time he had? “Are you…meeting someone somewhere?”
She straightened. “What?”
“Have you—are you seeing someone?”
“Oh. No,” she answered quickly. “No. There’s no one. It’s just that—”
Relief threaded through him. “Just what?”
“This isn’t my home. I need to get back.”
“You haven’t been home for a while, according to your postcards.”
“Oh. You got them, then?”
“Every one of them. From Bhutan. Cairo. Cape Town. Zurich. Paris… Quite a list.”
She nodded. “I left a bit of Tommy everywhere I went. All the places on his list.”
Personally, he thought Tommy had brass balls to ask her to do that after abandoning her for so much of their marriage. The military was unavoidable, but the rest? Trey had a hard time figuring out how a man left a woman like Holly behind. Maybe she just thought Tommy deserved that one last tribute. Or maybe it was her way of shedding her marriage to him, one piece at a time. Letting the wind blow it away.
“I have two vials left. One for us. One for his parents.”
He wouldn’t have been that generous to those people. But that was him.
The whole topic seemed to make her uncomfortable, and she signaled to the waitress for the check. “We should go, Trey. I’m still on Bali time, and I’m suddenly…tired.” She rested her hand atop his and said, “So, listen, I really appreciate the offer to stay with you, but you’ll need all that room for the guys who are coming this week. I can afford a hotel, so I think it’s best if I stay at the Graff.”
He tried and failed to check the disappointment in his expression.
“But…” she hurried on. “I hope you won’t mind being my tour guide while I’m here? I’ve only been here once before, and that was a long time ago. Marietta sure looks different in December. And without the McGuires judging my every word.”
He gave her hand a quick squeeze. So, that was how it was going to be. Pulling out his credit card, he handed it to the waitress who had swung by with the check. “Okay, then. Let’s get you settled.”
Find out what happens next…
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About the Author
Barbara Ankrum has a thing for the West and has written both historical and contemporary romances, all set in that magical place. Twice nominated for RWA’s RITA Award, her bestselling books are emotional, sexy rides with a touch of humor. Barbara’s married and raised two children in Southern California, which, in her mind, makes her a native Westerner. Visit Barbara on Facebook and Twitter@BarbaraAnkrum
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Unsung Hero Page 16