by Nicole Helm
“Hey, man. We’re heading to the bar tonight. You want in?”
Eli didn’t look at Drake. Or Levi who’d also taken a seat at the table. “No.” He got up and walked off. If he felt guilty for being rude, he’d get over it. Better to keep his distance, keep those hard and fast walls up. Everyone would be better off. Safer.
“We’ll get you one of these nights,” Levi called after him.
No, you wont, Eli promised to himself.
Chapter Two
Vivian had practiced her speech for most of the day. She would be calm, reasonable, and Jack would lay off the heavy-handed babysitting routine because he was a calm, reasonable guy who had a daughter and pregnant wife to take care of.
The weather had turned, a wild wind whipping through the early evening dark. It felt ominous and Vivian wished she could put this off, but she’d already driven from her cabin on the other side of the property to Jack and Rose’s pretty, restored farm house.
Jack ‘allowing’ her to live in a cabin on Revival property had been a fight, but it had made the most sense for Vivian to be closer to the mess hall. Vivian wished she knew how to let that small independence be enough.
But she hadn’t come here for Jack to watch her every move. To have the men at Revival avoid her like she was infected. But, in fairness to Rose’s point, she hadn’t told Jack why she’d come, except that she loved Montana and had been tired of Indiana.
It wasn’t a secret. It was just emotional. And she hadn’t wanted him to feel...responsible. Again.
But he was. Jack had survived injuries, betrayal, and he’d come here with his friends and built something that gave back. Even after all he’d been through, he’d dedicated himself to something for others.
It had made Vivian fully aware of how privileged her life was. And she had been inspired by Jack to want to do something. To give. And shouldn’t it be in a way that mattered to her? In a way she understood?
She wanted to help families like hers, who’d lived through the dark days of being relieved your military loved one had survived, and then realizing, worrying, and feeling helpless when realizing them surviving was not enough.
Jack had started Revival with his friends because he wanted to help soldiers like him, for soldiers like him. Viv wanted to be a part of it because she wanted to help those soldiers for their families.
And the thought of saying that to Jack made her throat close up and her heart feel too big. She was by far the best Armstrong at voicing her feelings, but that didn’t make it easy for her. They’d grown up in a family that prized stoicism in the face of adversity.
But the past few years had been all about unlearning some of those ingrained habits. For Jack. So, she marched herself up to his front door and knocked.
He opened the door. He was wearing sweats and his hair was damp. He scowled at her. “I should have guessed.” He ushered her inside and closed the door against the cold wind.
“Guessed what?”
“Rose swanned out of here with Gabs saying I needed a night to myself—which I don’t. Ever. And here you are. A coordinated attack.”
“If it was really an attack, I would have asked Rose to stay and help me.”
“I’m willing to bet you did and she said no.”
Vivian pouted. “Well, you don’t have to see through me quite so easily.”
He grunted. “Something to eat? Drink?”
“No. I just want to get this out.”
“I’m not backing off, Viv. It’s a non-starter. You’re a young, sweet, pretty girl in the middle of a bunch of men. And guess what? Men suck.”
“There are a few women.”
“Yeah, a few. Who knows, maybe they suck too.”
“Why’d you let me come here if you’re going to treat me like I’m five?”
“Let you? You went behind my back and convinced everyone else that you would be the right candidate for the cook position. I couldn’t fight you and everyone.”
She smiled up at him, trying for charm. “I’m a bulldozer. So, do us both a favor and stop fighting me and let me bulldoze you.”
“Sit down, Viv.”
“I’m not—”
“Sit,” he repeated.
She huffed out a breath and collapsed into the big comfy couch that dominated the living room. Pictures of Jack’s little family dotted the mantle. A picture of Rose with her sisters. A picture of Mom and Dad. Jack with his business partners in their military gear. But the one that always caught her attention, twisted her heart in a good way was his family picture. Tall, clean-cut Captain America looking Jack, beautiful rough and tumble Rose, and Gabrielle—their perfect little mixture. She stared at that while Jack lectured.
“I just don’t think you fully grasp the gravity of the situation. I know you want to help and do some good. But these men come to us at their worst. Some because there is no other safe place for them. I believe in all of them, that they have the capacity to be good men, but they’re here because they need to learn how to be good men—either for the first time or all over again. It is not a safe place. It is not home.”
She looked up at him. He hadn’t sat down next to her. He stood, looking so grave it hurt her heart. “You’ve always been a good man.”
He shook his head. “No, I haven’t.”
“Jack...” She didn’t know what to say to him, and it reminded her of when he’d been hurt—lying in that hospital bed. When he’d told them he wasn’t coming home with that blankness she’d never seen from her big brother.
He’d been broken—body and spirit—and Revival Ranch, his friends, therapy, and Rose had healed him. It put a lump in her throat. It was why she was here.
She wanted to be part of something that healed people.
“I know you’re going to take this the wrong way,” Jack continued, looking down at his hands. “But I don’t know how else to say it. Growing up on the farm, being an Armstrong, it insulates you from things. You’ve got a great heart, Viv. I don’t want to see it stomped on or taken advantage of. I have to watch out for you. I don’t know how to live with myself if I don’t.”
“You don’t treat Rose like this when she’s not pregnant,” she said, a last ditch effort.
“Rose didn’t grow up like we did. Rose fought battles long before I did. She can take care of herself.”
“And I can’t?”
“You don’t know how.”
“So, maybe I want to learn.” And she did. She hadn’t come here for that, but these two months had proven to her that Jack’s words were right. She might have worried from afar about Jack’s mental state, but she didn’t have a clue what the men and women who came to Revival Ranch were going through—many of them who also had family issues going on.
“And maybe you should learn,” Jack surprised her by agreeing. “But I can’t watch.”
“Then don’t!” She popped up and crossed to him. Stood in front of him. “Stop watching every move. Give me some space. I’m safe, Jack.” She took his hands and met his gaze, and it helped that he looked even more uncomfortable than she felt. She smiled at him. “Jack.”
“Don’t heart-to-heart me, Viv.”
“I have to. Because you don’t understand. I’m not here on a lark, or to change my life because I was bored. It’s not just because I wanted out of the Armstrong bubble. It’s because ever since we visited you that first time, I haven’t been able to get what you and Alex and Gabe were building out of my head. I wanted to help.”
“Viv—”
“I want to help these people, because I know what it’s like to love one of you, and feel lost and scared and powerless. You give the military people who come here help, Jack, but I don’t know that you realize you’re helping people like me too. I want to be part of it. I need to be.”
“You’re here aren’t you?” he said gruffly.
“And everyone is nervous around me because you’re always there. Hulking. Like a bodyguard.” She had to pull out the big guns even though she knew it’d hurt him.
“Like you don’t trust anyone around me.”
He pulled his hands from hers and turned away. “Mom and Dad—”
“Aren’t here. And I’m an adult, Jack. Maybe you can’t trust your soldiers, but you trust me, don’t you?”
He kept his back to her. “Why do all the women in my life play dirty?” Which was a sure sign he was weakening. He turned slowly, scowling. “Viv, I need you to promise me—”
“I won’t get in the middle of anything. If I’m ever uncomfortable or feel threatened, I’ll let you know, no matter the consequences.”
“You’re the cook. You’re not their therapist.”
“But I can be their friend.”
“Vivian—”
“You surrounded yourself with guys who knew what you were going through here, but what was it that really got through to you? Your therapist who wasn’t in the military. Rose who was never a soldier. It shouldn’t just be people like you that make up their world. If you ask Monica about that, I bet she’ll agree with me.”
He blew out a breath. “I am going to talk to Monica about this. And so are you. You’re not flitting around befriending people without Monica saying it’s a good idea.”
Vivian nodded, and didn’t mention she’d already talked to Monica about it. That wouldn’t help. “Deal. And your end of the bargain is no Jack Armstrong appearances in the mess hall unless you’re planning on eating there. Got it?”
“Fine,” he grumbled, his arms crossed over his chest.
But she flung hers around him and squeezed. “I just want to be part of it. I just want to help.” She let him go. “I need to.”
He certainly didn’t look happy, but he nodded. “All right. All right. I’ll talk to Monica in the morning.”
And she’d call Monica tonight to make sure Monica didn’t spill the beans to Jack that Viv had already talked to her.
“There’s some cake in the kitchen,” Jack said. “You want a slice?”
Vivian grinned up at him. “Yeah, I do.” So she sat in Jack’s kitchen and ate dessert with her brother, and felt like she was finally closer to actually making a difference.
*
“Hi, guys! Mind if I join you?”
Eli scowled at Vivian’s smiling face. Apparently she’d moved on from food only conversation the past few nights. Kyle Olsen said she’d asked him about why he’d joined the Marines, and Nate Averly said she’d asked him about his childhood.
She was on some sort of mission to get to know them all, and suddenly her brother wasn’t watching her every move, and Eli did not like it one bit.
“I mind,” Eli said flatly.
“Don’t be rude, Sterling,” Drake said with a hard elbow to the ribs. “You’re always welcome, Vivian.”
Eli said nothing and Vivian sat down and started chatting with Drake. Who was already halfway to being in love with her. Or at least lust.
Eli couldn’t watch. A recipe for disaster. He’d given up watching disasters a long time ago. He got up and pushed away from the table. Levi questioned him, but Eli didn’t answer.
He left the mess hall. He grabbed his coat from the rack of hooks and headed into the sparkling winter night. It was frigid, and vast. There was something about this place—the hugeness of it—the isolation even among all these men and women—that settled him.
Soothed.
He knew his therapist was angling to move him on to the next step. That she thought he was close to well enough to go home.
But he couldn’t. God, he could not go back to Oklahoma.
“Now, hold on a sec.”
Eli was more than a little surprised that Vivian’s voice followed him. But he didn’t hold on a sec, or acknowledge her in any way. He kept walking.
He should have known she wouldn’t give up that easy. She jogged in front of him, standing there so he’d either have to sidestep her or stop walking.
He sidestepped her.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked, still not getting the hint.
“No.”
“Is it me in particular, or is it you’re afraid if you say the wrong thing to me my brother is going to come stomp you into the ground?” she asked anyway.
Eli jammed his hands into his pockets and looked resolutely up at the winter night sky, as he walked. “Neither.”
“You just always get up and leave in the middle of a meal?”
“If someone is taking too keen an interest in me, yeah. I just want to be left alone. You should respect that.” He stopped walking and looked at her. He meant it to be a menacing look at that, but she was shivering and had her arms wrapped around herself. “Are you crazy coming out here without a coat on?”
“I just want a straight answer.”
“I gave you one.”
“People don’t come here to heal because they want to be alone, Eli.”
“You don’t know everything, Vivian.” He started to walk away, but couldn’t quite do it without adding a warning. She was clearly too naive to understand, and if her big brother suddenly wasn’t watching out after her, well, someone should make it clear. “You shouldn’t do this.”
“Do what?”
“Go around smiling and touching the guys. They’re going to get the wrong idea.”
“You sure haven’t,” she muttered.
“No. And I don’t plan to.”
“Then you’re perfect.”
He’d started to walk away again, but that... He turned to scowl at her. “Wait. What?”
She was grinning from ear to ear. “We’re buddies now, Eli. Since you won’t get the wrong idea.” Even as she shivered in the frigid cold, she tapped her chin. “What kind of cookies do you like?”
“I don’t... what?”
“You might as well tell me, because I’m making you cookies no matter what. If I were in your shoes, I’d prefer the unwanted cookies to be at least the kind of cookies I’d like.”
“I don’t want...”
“All right. Fine. I’ll surprise you.”
She was fully infuriating, standing there with moonlight turning her dark hair silver. “Stay away from me, princess.”
“Aw, that’s a cute nickname. Always wanted one that wasn’t Viv or Vivvy. My friend’s family used to call her Queenie. I prefer that, but princess’ll do.”
She was completely and utterly off her rocker. The only defense against that was to walk away.
He went to his lone bunk—basically a tiny cabin. There were only a few on the property. They were specifically for soldiers with violent tendencies who could self regulate in isolation.
The therapist wanted him in that group bunk, his last test before freedom. She did not understand that was the last thing he wanted. So, he held onto his solitary for all it was worth.
He shrugged out of his coat and got ready for bed. It was early yet, but mornings came early too. And he had a therapy session tomorrow afternoon. It was best to be well rested before those.
It took a while, thanks partially to the fact he was hungry since he hadn’t finished his dinner, but eventually he dropped into sleep. But not one of the restful ones he’d started getting used to in this little cabin.
He woke some time later—sweating, his heart pounding as he struggled to catch a breath. There was a roaring in his ears, and the images—a splicing of reality and fiction—he couldn’t force away until he could control his breathing.
Fresh air. He needed fresh air. He stumbled from the bed, and out the door into the frigid, frozen night.
He should have finished his meal. A hard day’s work and keeping himself fed helped a lot when it came to the episodes. Just taking care of himself in general, and having the structure here to make sure it happened had helped him a lot.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
Eli was too shaken to jump at the voice, but when he looked across the yard, there was Kyle, smoking a cigarette on the porch of the group bunk next door.
“Want one?” Kyle asked, taking a deep drag on his cig
arette.
Eli shook his head, taking a careful inhale to make sure he could speak. “Nah, don’t smoke.”
“Lucky you. I keep quitting, but nothing evens me out after a nightmare like nicotine. Well, booze probably would, but I’m not going down that same road my old man did.”
Eli didn’t say anything. Didn’t know what to say. But his breathing was starting to mellow, the beat of his heart in his ears quieting to a faint thud.
“You’re a quiet guy. I get it. But my mind’s going a thousand miles an hour, you know? I gotta get it out. All the guys inside are asleep. I don’t mind talking to myself, but it makes me feel a little less crazy to do it at someone else. I’d call my wife, but she’s asleep.”
“You’re married?” Eli didn’t know why it came as such a surprise to him. Some of the guys were, but Kyle had never mentioned a wife.
Were you ever listening if he did?
“Separated. This is sort of the last ditch effort, you know? She said she was gone for good if I didn’t try this. Didn’t really want to, but... Well, I couldn’t stand the idea of her walking.”
“Yeah, I...” Eli didn’t understand because he didn’t have a wife, but he did have someone who needed him to be better. Revival had been his idea, not his sister’s, but he’d done it so she wouldn’t be afraid of him. So he wouldn’t be a burden to her.
“You got someone?”
“Nah.” It hung there, in a silence Eli knew Kyle was waiting for him to fill. Usually he didn’t feel compelled to fill those silences, but there was something about the shaky way Kyle took a drag that Eli felt...like he just had to explain. “Just wanted to stop my sister form worrying.”
“Smoke bother you?” Kyle said, gesturing with the cigarette.
“Nah.”
Kyle took the stairs on his porch then crossed the yard to Eli. He held out his wallet. Inside was a picture of a pretty blond and two kids with chubby cheeks and toothy smiles—just like Olsen’s.
“Look like you,” Eli said despite his discomfort.
Kyle looked at the picture, too many emotions on his face. “Yeah, they do, don’t they? Poor things.” He shoved the wallet back in his pocket and took another long drag. “Hell being away, but I guess I’ll be better when I get back.”