Soldier of Her Heart

by Syndi Powell

  Andie retrieved plates from her cupboard and found a knife to cut the pie into thick wedges. She served it with mugs of coffee at her dining room table before taking a seat herself. “So what did I miss?”

  Cassie shrugged. “John’s still not included at family dinners until after the wedding.” She took a large bite of pie and moaned. “Oh, babe. Your mom bakes an amazing pie.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows. “It’s one of the reasons you’re marrying me.”

  “Got that right.” She took another bite and swallowed before continuing on what Andie had missed. “We finalized the plans for the reception. You are coming to help decorate the night before, right?”

  As if Andie wouldn’t follow through with her promise. “Aren’t I your maid of honor? Although this wrist might slow me down some.”

  “Well, I need to nail down some of these commitments.”

  “And my mom is hosting the rehearsal dinner at her house after we decorate.” John gave a wry grin. “The wedding is still two weeks away, but you’d think it was this weekend the way she is frantically cleaning. And giving me more to-do lists.”

  “How are she and Biggie getting along?”

  John’s smile faded a little. His mother had started dating one of the Buttucci brothers after Cassie and John had competed in the home renovation contest last summer. “Fine. He’s still in my good graces. But I swear, one false move...”

  Andie smiled at his overprotective attitude toward his mom. Cassie patted his hand, and he resumed eating. Then her sister turned to her. “So tell us about your weekend.”

  What to say? “It was fine. No big deal.”

  Cassie glanced at the cast on Andie’s wrist. “I’ve avoided the elephant in the room, but I’m going to ask. Did Beckett have something to do with your injury?”

  “This?” Andie held up her wrist. “No, not at all. I fell on it.”

  “Fell?” Cassie’s expression was instantly worried.

  “A simple accident. Beckett would never hurt me.” The thought of that made Andie want to laugh. And cry because she knew that he blamed her injury on himself. It had been her. All her. And yet, he seemed to think that he was responsible for everything that went wrong. That wasn’t right.

  “I know he’s got some issues.”

  “PTSD.”

  Cassie nodded. “And it can make people do some things they normally wouldn’t.” She paused and reached out to touch Andie’s good hand. “So tell us what happened.”

  “I told you. I fell.”

  “There’s more to it than what you’re saying.”

  John stood, picking up his plate of pie. “If it would be easier to talk without me here, I can give you two some privacy.”

  Andie waved off his suggestion. “We don’t need privacy because there’s nothing to share.”

  John balanced his mug of coffee on the plate. “Still, I think I’ll give you two a moment. Besides, I want to check the news. Do you mind?”

  The two sisters were left sitting across from each other at the table as he walked into the living room and put on the television. Cassie removed her hand from Andie’s. “What really happened? Because you seem a little sad.”

  “It’s true that I fell.” She couldn’t share about why she’d fallen because she wouldn’t, couldn’t betray Beckett’s own private demons. “But that’s not why I’m morose.”

  “Uh-oh. You broke out a big word, so I know it’s serious.”

  Andie smiled at her sister’s glib response. “Something changed between Beckett and me over the weekend, and I’m irresolute about what to do.”

  “Something bad? Is that why you’re morose? And what in the world does irresolute mean?”

  “It means I haven’t resolved what to do. I’m of two minds.” She dragged her fork through the caramel. “Do I pursue the strong possibility of another fruitless relationship? Or do I honor his wishes to let this attraction subside?” She brought her gaze back to Cassie’s. “Why are you smiling?”

  “Because you always do this. You either pursue the guy who you think needs to be saved or the one who isn’t interested. In Beckett’s case, he’s both.” Cassie leaned back in her chair with a shrug. “It’s like you’re trying to resolve your issues with Daddy by making the guy love you.”

  Andie shook her head. “This has nothing to do with Daddy.”

  “Doesn’t it? You’ve been trying to earn his love and respect since you were born.”

  “Just because you’re his favorite doesn’t mean you have some special insight into my relationship with him.”

  Cassie cocked her head to the side. “I know what I see. You work so hard to get his attention. And you do that in your relationships with men, as well. Do I have to bring up Brian?”

  Andie shuddered and shook her head. “Brian has nothing to do with this. He was a big mistake. Huge. But I’ve learned my lesson.” She’d tried to pursue a relationship with the man for five years, ignoring the attention of available men until she’d finally realized last year that it would never happen between them. Five years wasted on someone who had been only halfhearted in their relationship. Not that he had ever called it that. “Beckett at least notices me, even if he doesn’t want to.”

  “But he doesn’t want a relationship, right?”

  “I don’t think he knows what he wants.”

  “I’m telling you this is shades of Brian. But more important, it’s about Daddy. Don’t you think it’s time you found a relationship with someone who wants to be with you?” Cassie pushed her dessert plate away, leaving half of the slice of pie. “If I eat any more of this, I won’t be able to fit into my wedding gown.”

  Andie pushed her own half-eaten piece of pie away from her, as well. She wasn’t hungry anymore. Partly because she knew what Cassie said was true. Why was she even considering pursuing something with a guy who clearly didn’t want to be with her? If Beckett wanted a relationship, he wouldn’t push her away like he had. He didn’t do relationships, he’d said. So what was there to debate?

  Because you want him, her heart reminded her. And he wanted her too, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself. She was as sure of that as she was that she would need to let him go. Her heart couldn’t handle another rejection.

  * * *

  BECKETT WROTE A check for the plumber and thanked him for his labor before returning to the kitchen. Work on the new house was going slow, but at least the house was starting to take shape. With the contest, he’d been given a specific family to build and design for which had given him focus. Here, he could make choices on what he liked and thought would sell. In some ways, that was more difficult.

  A knock on the kitchen doorframe brought his focus to the present. He found Rob lounging in the doorway. “Miss me?”

  Beckett smiled and gave Rob a few thumps on his shoulder. He looked down at the brace on Rob’s knee. “Shouldn’t you be home recuperating?”

  “Doc said I needed to get around more, so here I am.” Rob glanced at the kitchen and whistled. “You’ve got the cabinets up already? You sure didn’t waste any time. Probably means you’re working all hours and not taking care of yourself again.”

  Ignoring the censure in Rob’s voice, Beckett pulled out a blue-gray tile that he’d chosen for the kitchen floor. “I’ve got a guy coming in next week to tile here and in the bathroom.”

  “It looks good.”

  “So do you.” And despite Rob’s knee in a brace, he looked as if he was there ready for work. His color looked much better than he had the last time Beckett had seen him. “Want to help me pull up carpet in the master bedroom?”

  Rob gave a laugh, shaking his head. “Think I’ll have to pass on that for the moment.” He checked his watch. “I should go. Physical therapy appointment, but I wanted to stop in and see how things were going.”

  “Slower without you. But def
initely much quieter.” He followed Rob to the front door and saw Rob’s mom sitting in the car in the driveway. He raised his hand in greeting and walked with her son to the car, opening the passenger door for him. He stuck his head into the car. “Good to see you, Mrs. Veenstra.”

  “Rob said he had to see the house.”

  “I’m glad he stopped by. It’s not the same here without him.” He turned to Rob. “If you need anything, call me. Rides to the doctor. Help with the medical bills. Whatever you need.” He looked over at Mrs. Veenstra. “You, as well.”

  “Thanks, Lieutenant.”

  He waved as Mrs. Veenstra backed the car out of the driveway. Seeing Rob had been good, but it reminded him of all that needed to be done before he could sell the house. Speaking of, he had carpet to tear out in the master bedroom.

  Beckett grunted as he pulled up the dark green shag carpet and smiled at the hardwood floor beneath. Older houses like these tended to have hidden treasures, and the scratched maple wood was no exception. He’d have to sand and restain it, but the end result would be worth the effort.

  Someone whistled from the doorway. He looked up to find Cassie nodding in appreciation of the hardwood floor. “They really don’t make houses like they used to.” She squatted down and ran a hand along the scarred surface. “What I would give to find this in my house.”

  This seemed to be the day for visitors. “How is your house coming?”

  She gave a shrug. “You know how it is. You’re more likely to work on someone else’s house than have time for your own. But I promised John that we will finish it after the wedding.”

  Beckett nodded, remembering the wedding invitation that she’d sent him. Had he sent his regrets to her? A wedding with a bunch of people was the last place he needed to be. “Sorry I won’t be there.”

  Cassie eyed him. “But I think you will be.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because Andie wants you there.”

  The mention of the woman who had occupied his thoughts the last two days brought up a fresh wave of pain. “Cass...”

  She took a step inside the bedroom and pulled out a utility knife from her back pocket. “Let’s get this carpet up first, then we’ll talk. Deal?”

  He jumped on the suggestion, and between the two of them they removed the carpet in short order. When the last piece had been placed into the dumpster in the driveway, Cassie dusted off her hands and glared at him. “I need to know what your intentions are toward my sister.”

  He gulped, unprepared for her direct statement. “I have no intentions.”

  She sighed. “That’s what I figured.” She shook her head. “And you’ve told her this?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “But...”

  He held up his hands. “There is no but. I can’t be in a relationship with Andie. And that’s exactly what I told her Sunday.”

  “And yet, you can’t stop thinking about her.”

  He raised an eyebrow at Cassie’s assertion. “Are you reading my mind?”

  “Listen. I know the effect my sister has on men. She’s beautiful inside and out. Most men can’t help falling for her. They flock to her like a moth to flame.” She put her hands on her hips. “And yet they don’t understand that she wants more than their appreciation. She wants their respect. And their love and affection.”

  He knew all of this, which is why he’d put distance between them on Sunday. “I don’t think I can give her what she wants.”

  Cassie nodded. “Then hear me out on this. If that’s truly how you feel, you need to let her go. Don’t make an excuse to run into her somewhere. Don’t call or text her. And don’t come to my wedding. She’s been hurt enough without you having to add to it, so stay away.”

  “I have no intention of hurting her.”

  “Good.” She let out a big breath. “On the other hand, if there is a chance for the two of you, don’t be stupid and let her slip away. She’d be good for you. Just make sure you know what you want before you go to her.”

  “You’re protective of her.”

  “I’m her little sister. I have to be.”

  He gave a nod, hoping they could drop the topic. Would his little brother have been so protective of him if Beckett had given him the chance? “I’ve got to get back to this. Thanks for helping me with the carpet.”

  “My pleasure. I’d love to see the house when it’s finished.”

  “And congratulations on your wedding.”

  “Thanks.” She took a few steps then turned to look at him. “Really think about it though before you decide whether you’re coming or not. Don’t let fear keep you alone.”

  He watched her leave, considering her words. He wasn’t afraid of being alone. That’s what kept him safe. Protected.

  He meant that’s what kept others safe. And yet, maybe he’d gotten it right the first time. If he was alone, he wouldn’t have to lose anyone else. Wouldn’t have to grieve their loss.

  He stopped for a long drink of water before he got back to work. Such thoughts were what his therapist hoped to hear, so maybe he would save the insights for her later that day at his appointment.

  * * *

  BECKETT STARED AT the tree outside the therapist’s office and wished again that he could be anywhere but there. He’d never found comfort in unloading what was in his heart. Keep it locked up. Isn’t that what his dad had always told him? And yet, his dad was the one who died from a massive heart attack at an early age.

  Dr. Samples cleared her throat and tapped her finger on her notepad. “I’d like to hear what you think about that.”

  Beckett tried to focus, aware that he hadn’t heard the question. What was more, the therapist knew he hadn’t heard it either. He reached down and patted Phoebe, trying to buy some time. Finally, he looked up at the doctor and offered a weak grin. “Think about what?”

  “You’re not paying attention.”

  He shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

  “I asked what you thought about your training with Phoebe.”

  He quit petting the dog and gave a shrug. “Good, I guess.” The therapist didn’t say anything, but looked at him over the top of her glasses that rested on the end of her nose. He held up his hands. “We’ve been getting along fine.”

  “And the nightmares?”

  They hadn’t gone away like he’d hoped they would. He had figured that following the doctor’s suggestion about getting Phoebe would change that. And yet... “They’re still there.”

  “Are they worse?”

  “No.”

  “More frequent?”

  He paused and thought. “No.”

  “Has Phoebe been able to calm you from them?”

  She had at first. She’d jumped on his bed and poked her cold nose on his chest until he woke up. But last Saturday had shown him how far from cured he really was. She hadn’t been able to waken him from the nightmare, and Andie had ended up getting hurt trying to save him. “Not always.”

  The doctor wrote something on her notepad. “Have you been taking the meds?”

  She’d prescribed him antianxiety medications over the last six months, but he didn’t like how they clouded his thinking. How they made him feel as if he was swimming in a big glass bowl rather than truly living. He couldn’t function on them, so he had stored them in the back of his medicine chest. “I told you I stopped taking them.”

  “During the day, yes. But these will help you sleep.”

  The meds only made his nightmares even stranger. They messed him up worse than forgoing them. He shook his head. “They don’t.”

  “I can prescribe you—”

  “No.” The word came out sharp, and the dog at his feet snapped her head up to look at him. Phoebe stood. He gave her a reassuring pat, then said to the therapist, “No more drugs.”

  �
�Lieutenant, I understand how you feel about them, but they are meant to help you with the very things you’re complaining of.”

  She didn’t get it. No one did. “They work just fine for some people, I get that, but not me.”

  The thought of feeling separated from reality made him shudder. He needed to be grounded in real life. “You wanted to meet with me once a week, so I show up for these sessions. You wanted me to get a dog. I got a dog. But I’m not going to spend the rest of my life on meds when I don’t genuinely believe they’ll do me any good. What would be the point?”

  He stood and walked to the window, staring out at the tree again. He remembered how he’d climbed similar trees with his younger brother. The need to get higher, to touch the sky. If only he could get back to those days where things weren’t so complicated. When dreams were sweet. And when you did what you were supposed to, and things got better. He was doing everything they told him, but nothing had changed.

  He looked over at Dr. Samples. “You can’t fix me, can you?”

  The psychiatrist laid her pen and notebook on her lap. “It’s not a matter of ‘fixing’ you. I’m trying to give you tools to cope and eventually heal.”

  “Tools.” He shook his head. “As a contractor, I know all about tools, Doc. But I think I’m wasting my time here.” He reached over to grab Phoebe’s leash and his coat from the back of the chair he’d been sitting in. “Goodbye, Doc.”

  She followed him out of the office and down the hallway. “Beckett, we still have twenty minutes left in our session today.”

  He paused at the door that lead to the waiting room. “No. We’re done here. Therapy is voluntary, right?”

  “No one is forcing you to come to these appointments, Lieutenant, but it was recommended by your CO.”

  True, Beckett had been in a dark place after Ruggirello’s death, but he wasn’t about to harm himself or others. The fact that Rob and Andie had both gotten hurt while near him caused him enough pain. Therapy couldn’t change that. “Then you’re fired.”