He dashed back down the wooden stairs to the deck and around the side of the house to the water hose.
Langley climbed the steps with Anna in his arms. His skin was tanned from being out in the desert sun the past week, and his grayish-green eyes, the same color as Anna’s, looked pale. His beard-darkened jaw, so strong and masculine, drew her attention. Even after nearly eight years of marriage, her heart still leaped when she saw him, even after brief separations.
Anna’s dark head rested on his shoulder, and she cuddled against his broad chest, limp and soundly asleep. Seeing him hold one of their children, his care and tenderness toward them, never failed to move her.
He brushed his chin against Anna’s hair. “She’s worn herself out on the beach building a sand castle with Tad. I’ll put her down.”
Trish unlatched Anna’s sandy shoes, dusted her tiny feet, and set the shoes on the table. “Thanks, Langley.”
He carried their daughter inside.
Tad ran around the side of the house, soaking wet, his pale blond hair sticking up on top of his head like spikes. Trish laughed and tugged him between her legs. She stripped him, bundled his sopping clothing onto the table next to her, and grabbed a beach towel from the railing of the deck to dry him off.
“Go into your room and put on dry underwear and your Spiderman sweatpants. Daddy’s in there, so he can help you if you need it. You can take a bath in a little while.”
He used his favorite phrase, “I can do it myself,” before he took off running toward the back door. His narrow, bare behind, a hand’s-width across, glowed white compared to the light tan darkening his back and lower legs. He was going to be lean and tall like his father. She could already see the similarities in his bone structure.
She hung his discarded clothes across the deck railing to dry.
Langley slipped out the door ten minutes later. “He’s sitting in front of the television watching a Spiderman cartoon in his Spidey pants, and I suspect he’ll probably crash soon. I took them to a taco place. You know the one that has the bite-sized tacos? Anna loved them.
“In fact, I brought you some. No sauce, so it won’t bother the baby.” He went back out to the car, brought in a bag, and set it on the table next to her.
He paused a moment. “We got you something at the beach today.”
“What is it?”
He drew a small bouquet of cornhusk roses from behind his back, each flower tipped along its edges very lightly with color. “A girl was making these on the beach. Tad said the blue one was from him and Anna picked the peach one. I chose a yellow one for Jessica, and a red one from me.”
Tears pricked Trish’s eyes as she took them. “They’re beautiful. Thank you, Langley.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He leaned down and brushed her lips with his own.
She looped an arm around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. He knelt to nestle between her legs and hold her.
“What is it?”
“I can’t seem to get my feet under me this time, Langley.”
“You had a bad time of it, honey. The doc said you’d have to take things slow for a while.”
She nodded against his shoulder and breathed in the briny scent of the sea, laundry soap, and Langley, while she fought against the pain. She knew her husband. Knew his tells. He was taking the kids, spending one-on-one time with them. Going out of his way to be useful. Not that he didn’t do that a lot when he was here, but he’d been particularly attentive the last few days.
“I think we all need a nap,” he suggested.
She nodded again. He stood and backed away, holding his hand out to help her push up from the chair.
“I’ll get the baby. You go ahead and lie down for a while.”
She gathered the roses and held them against her chest. “When do you leave?”
His features blanked in surprise, but his green gaze remained focused on the baby. “Tomorrow.”
The shock of it struck her silent. She wished him already gone. Dealing with his leaving was harder than his absence.
And she couldn’t say a damn thing. It was against the military wife code to say anything, in case something happened to him while he was gone. She didn’t want to live with that guilt. Didn’t want him carrying it into battle.
She already knew what he was when she married him. She watched him fly away during their engagement, after their wedding, during all three pregnancies.
She needed him now. She wasn’t steady. She needed to be steadier before he left again.
But she turned and walked into the house, because there wasn’t anything else to say.
She placed the roses on the dresser. In the mirror, she looked pale, washed-out, and exhausted. Almost too tired to block off the self-pitying feelings of abandonment that rose up to slash at her.
She lay down on the bed and curled on her side, her back to the door.
Langley came in a few minutes later and lay behind her to spoon, his long legs curled beneath hers. “Everyone’s asleep. We’d better grab some shut-eye while we can.”
“Jessica will be our last baby,” she announced.
“If that’s what you want, Trish. I’m happy with three.”
“That’s what I want.”
“Physically you’ve experienced a trauma. Wait until you’re back from it before you make a firm decision.”
No. She needed to face up to it now. Financially, they couldn’t afford any more. And with Langley always gone, she couldn’t handle any more alone. Tears rose up like a fist at the back of her throat. Exhaustion curled around her tighter than Langley’s arms.
“I love you, Trish.”
She knew he did, but she needed him to just this once put her first. But she couldn’t demand something he was unable give. The choice was out of his hands. But it didn’t ease the hurt. The silence stretched on until she said, “I love you too, Langley.”
Chapter 6
SATURDAY, 7:00 p.m.
Langley clenched and unclenched his hands in frustration. The medical personnel kept coming in and checking on her, but they didn’t want her to wake up just yet.
After that one attempt to grab the trach tube, they gave her sedation and she settled back into unconsciousness. They said it was easier for her to tolerate the trach if she remained sedated.
Her short, pale blond hair was stuck to her head from the hat they covered it with during surgery. Her redhead complexion was so pale, every freckle stood out across her nose, and even the veins beneath the skin in her temples and neck were visible.
It wasn’t supposed to be her flat on her back with tubes coming out of her. After all the dangerous situations he made it through without a scratch, what kind of cosmic joke was this that she was the one who’d been shot?
If the deputy, Truman Marshall, hadn’t stayed with her and gotten her medical attention so quickly…
And the sorry son of a bitch who shot her was still at large, though they were certain he was wounded. There was a blood trail at the scene, but the man had disappeared.
As far as Langley was concerned, Marshall had done the world and Clarence’s wife a favor by shooting him. The deputy deserved a medal. And he hoped Clarence was suffering from his wound. He deserved it.
Langley ran a hand over his face. Anger could only sustain him for so long. After six hours in the hospital, he was running out of patience, and his concern was escalating fast.
Where the hell was the fucker? They needed to find him and lock him up. What if he decided to show up here?
He studied the fragile line of Trish’s jaw, the bluish hollows beneath her eyes, the fan of her lashes. When he cupped her oval face in his hands and kissed her it felt…perfect. Even after fifteen years of marriage, he still felt that rush of need whenever she was near. Well…when the kids weren’t interrupting.
Why couldn’t he figure out what was going on with her right now? They had always been so in tune with each other.
All except that
time after Jess was born. They’d taken a trip to wine country for some time alone after he got back from the deployment that had dragged him away from her then. He remembered it so vividly, because he really thought she’d been on the verge of giving him his walking papers. But she hadn’t.
But their life together changed after that, and it led them to this moment, led her to where she was right now.
MARCH 9, 2009
Langley wound his way down the two-lane road. The fields were lush and verdant with rows of grapevines and clumps of trees.
“I think it’s this next turn.”
He swung the steering wheel to the right and followed the shady road. After a quarter of a mile, the inn came into sight. Built of light brown stone, it sprawled across an emerald green lawn, and looked like a Swiss chalet. The windows glittered in the afternoon sun.
“It looks lovely, Langley,” Trish breathed.
He grinned as he took in Trish’s windblown blond hair and sun-flushed cheeks. The sprinkle of freckles that marched across the bridge of her nose only added to the country girl prettiness his wife rocked. She had lost her post-baby weight and more, though. She was thinner than he liked to see her. But he was hesitant about saying anything. Didn’t think it would be welcome.
He’d been home five days, and there was still a distance between them he couldn’t seem to breach. She’d been at work every day, and kids’ stuff had pretty much taken over the rest of her time and attention. And she dropped into bed like a zombie by the time she got everything done. As for making love, she’d shown zero interest. Which had never happened before.
He attempted to keep some levity in his tone. “They give you as much wine as you can drink while you’re here, so if you feel the need to tie one on, the kids aren’t here, and I’ll take good care of you.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him. “I’m not sure I even like wine. And I didn’t think you did at all.”
“Maybe I’ll learn to like it. Maybe I just haven’t tasted the right kind.”
He pulled up in front of the chalet, found an empty space in the lot, and parked.
“Why did you choose to bring me here, Langley?” Trish’s pale blue eyes searched his face.
“Because I thought you’d enjoy something more girly than a Padre’s game and a beer, and I want us to have some time for just the two of us. They have a spa here, and you can have a massage, facial, and whatever other stuff they offer.”
Besides when his wife was happy, she always returned the favor and made him happy. It had been nine months since he made love with his wife. He’d rubbed her back, hugged her, and kissed her, but with her on bed rest at the end of the pregnancy, they hadn’t made love in nearly ten. He was feeling the strain.
She didn’t smile when she said, “And you’re hoping to get laid?”
“That might have played a small”—he held up a hand with his thumb and forefinger apart an inch—“part in it. We do seem to have little people running around interrupting the mood on a constant basis.” And you’ve seemed a little exhausted, he added to himself.
Trish tilted her head back against the headrest.
“We need some time together without the kids, Trish. We need to work on us.”
A wry grimace tilted her mouth. “I love them. I can’t believe how much I love them. But two minutes in a room without someone calling my name would be wonderful.”
“Then why are you feeling guilty about being here?” Langley asked. “It’s just a weekend. Two days out of years and years of being their mother.”
There was no twinkle in her eye when she leveled her gaze at his face. “It’s a Mom thing. It’s ingrained into our DNA.”
He thought about that a moment. Did she think it was just moms?
Didn’t she know how guilty he felt every time he had to board a plane and fly away from them? How it hurt to miss seeing each one of them taking their first step, or doing all the other things they did to grow and become their own person? How it tore his heart out to be a stranger to his children when he returned home, and they had to relearn how to connect with him each time?
Seven-month old Jess was wary of him this time. Hadn’t wanted to come to him. He understood, but it had broken his heart right there on the tarmac.
All that aside, the thing was…he needed Trish, too. Probably more than she needed him. Way more.
To keep from voicing all that, he unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car. He went around the trunk to get the suitcases. Trish joined him there and reached for her own. “What were you going to say?”
Langley looked up. “We can talk about it later. I’m ready for a beer, if they’ll give me one, and a few minutes alone with my wife.”
He smiled at the soft color that touched Trish’s cheeks. “Nearly ten years of marriage, and I can still make you blush.”
Her expression remained neutral.
All right, he’d known they had some work to do here. But he had hoped…. He hefted their bags out of the car and carted them across the parking area to the sidewalk and into the hotel. He handed Trish the credit card and let her check them in.
The interior of the hotel was all golden, warm wood and bold colors. Red area rugs were scattered around the tile floor. A large fireplace. Water and coffee were set out in the lobby, with a plate of pastries and cookies under a glass dome.
“We’ll send a bottle of wine up to your room in just a few moments,” the woman behind the counter said as she handed Trish the credit card. “Would you prefer red or white?”
Langley shrugged as Trish looked back over her shoulder at him. What did a beer guy know about wine?
“White, please,” Trish said.
“The dining room is open for breakfast between six-thirty and ten. Lunch is served from eleven until four, and dinner from five until nine. We do a tasting every afternoon at four, with cheese and crackers served then. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call the front desk.”
“Thank you.” Tess slipped the key into a small pocket on her sundress.
They headed around the corner from the front desk to the elevator and rode up to the second floor. Trish unlocked the door and held it wide for him as he carried their luggage into the room.
He’d booked a suite so they could have a little more space. He didn’t want her to feel crowded like she was at home. The furnishings were a light oak that reflected the warm woodwork and tiled floors, again covered by thick area rugs.
Brightly-colored abstract artwork hung on the walls. A desk and a cabinet housing a small refrigerator, microwave and television stretched along one wall. A couch, coffee table, and a chair faced them. Through a door he could see the bed and a nightstand.
Trish went to the far end to open the sliding glass door and wander out onto the balcony.
Langley dumped the luggage at the foot of the bed and sauntered out to join her. A large, kidney-shaped pool glittered pale blue below them, with shrubs and flowers camouflaging the chain link fence bordering it. Beyond the fence, row after row of grapevines marched across the valley and up the nearby hills. It was a beautiful place, picturesque. The sun touched his skin like a warm hand, and he tilted his head back and allowed it to bathe his face.
“I’d think you’d have had enough sun in Iraq, Camp Billy Machen, and all the other hot, dry places you’ve been,” Trish commented.
“It’s gentler here. More like a caress than a slap.” She didn’t bitch or lose her temper, she just made those flat comments, like a stranger who knew you a little, but not well enough to care. Had her love for him died? A wave of pain hit him, his heart thundered against his ribs, and he reached out blindly and gripped the balcony railing.
If there wasn’t a chance they could get past this, he needed to know now and save himself the heartache. “Do you think you’ll ever forgive me for leaving you this deployment, Trish?”
She remained silent for a long moment. “We have three children together, Langley. The youngest seven months old.
If we break up, you’ll move on with your life, and so will we, but the children will lose their home, and their father. They’ll see you even less than they do already. All the things we hoped and dreamed for them will be gone. We’re both used to making sacrifices, and they’re more important than either of us.”
If he’d been punched in the chest by a rifle stock, it couldn’t have hurt as much. “So the only reason you’ll be staying with me is for the children?”
A small crack showed in her composure and her eyes grew shiny with tears. “No. I couldn’t do that. But I’m so angry with you right now…” She swallowed. “The only thing I’m certain of is they have to come first.”
“You know I didn’t want to leave you and the children, Trish. You have to know that it tears me apart every time I have to leave. It nearly killed me to go, knowing you needed me.”
She stared at him. “You never said anything. You just got your gear and left.”
His eyes burnt. “I’m telling you now. If I’d said it before…it would have made it harder for me to leave. To do what I had to do.”
She stared off into the distance, silent.
“This is who I am. This is what I do.”
He knew he’d said the wrong thing when she turned and walked back into their room.
Langley ran a hand over his face. She had a right to be upset.
She wouldn’t be on his ass if she didn’t still love him.
But she wasn’t on his ass.
She was cool, distant, not arguing with him. She’d held on to this for seven months. Seven months of stewing and pain. That scared the hell out of him.
Trish didn’t give up any easier than he did. They had nine years together. Eleven, if you counted the two years they lived together before they married. He had to believe she would want to hold their marriage together.
When he heard a knock, he turned to join her in the room.
One of the bellmen stood at the door with a bottle of wine and a corkscrew. After he left, Trish twisted the device into the cork. “I’m going to open it now. I think I could use a drink.”
Breaking Point: A SEAL Team Heartbreakers Novella Page 5