Maisy set her hand on Nate’s forearm. “I missed you so much, Natey. I’m glad you’re back.”
He was glad for the subject change. “I missed you, too, Mom, but don’t get too used to me being around. You know my plans are still up in the air.”
She smiled, and it reached her sea-blue eyes. He’d missed her. He’d missed this—being with family, talking about things other than missions and how many men were lost, despite Tempe and Sam pushing him about Jewel. After two years, he’d finally given up hiding behind the war and had come home to face his past. He missed his family—and even though he was terribly conflicted about her, he missed Jewel.
“I know, sweetheart,” his mother said. “But you’re here now, and that’s good enough for me.”
“Besides, it’s great to see one of my boys behind the bar again.” His father wore his dark hair parted on the side and brushed away from his face. With his angular nose, cleft chin, and chiseled features, he was a dead ringer for Cary Grant. Even when serious, there was a softness to his eyes that Nate saw only when he addressed his children. Nate had seen him at his angriest and at his most protective, but when directed at his family, there was an underlying unconditional love that came through loud and clear.
“Have you taken a ride over to the old train station yet? I think Rick would want you to fulfill that dream, Nate.” His father held his chin high, challenging him in a way that made it difficult for Nate to look away. His father knew how Rick’s death had affected him, but that didn’t stop him from trying to push him through it.
Nate took another drink to distract himself from the way his heart was telling him Peaceful Harbor was where he was supposed to be. He and Rick had shared a passion for cooking and had planned to open a restaurant—Tap It—when they were out of the military. Another dream shot to hell.
“Not yet,” Nate answered. He’d not only avoided visiting the old train station he and Rick had had their eye on as the perfect venue for their restaurant, but he’d also been putting off visiting Rick’s family and had yet to see Jewel since he’d been home.
Sometimes where a person was supposed to be wasn’t the best place for them.
“We’ll leave you kids alone to catch up. Don’t forget, the annual Christmas-tree bonfire is next Thursday. I’m sad Shannon won’t be here, but Ty said he’d get great pictures to send her. If you can make it, great, and if not”—Maisy shrugged as she walked around the bar and patted Sam’s shoulder—“that’s okay, too. And, Sammy, don’t give your brother too hard of a time. He has a lot to deal with and he just got back.” Every year after Christmas their parents stowed their Christmas tree in the shed to dry out. And in April the family got together for their annual Christmas-tree-burning bonfire, when they lit it up and enjoyed the visual feast of crackles, pops, and sizzling sparks.
Sam rolled his eyes. “See you Thursday, Ma.”
“I love you, too, Sammy.” Raising four rambunctious boys and two mischievous girls, Maisy had long ago learned to ignore eye rolls and attitudes.
“Nate, think about the restaurant. There are many ways to honor our fallen heroes.” His father smiled, easing the pressure a little. “It’s good to have you back, son.” He took Maisy’s hand, and she waved over her shoulder as they went out the front door.
“Seriously, dude,” Sam said. “You need to deal with this shit. Rick’s gone. There’s nothing you can do about that. But Jewel’s still here.”
Tempe set down her notebook with a sigh. “Way to listen to Mom, Sam.”
“Hey, I’m just telling the truth,” Sam said. “What do you want from me?”
“A little compassion?” Tempe pleaded. “Nate, have you thought about talking to a therapist about all this stuff?”
“Don’t you think I’ve done that? Three of the military’s finest. I could write a book on survivor’s guilt, plus you’re always giving me advice—even when I don’t ask. Tempe, it’s not like I want to live with this shit hanging over my head.” If only he hadn’t been so damn ambitious and had skipped ROTC. He could have gone in as an enlisted man, like Rick had, and then he wouldn’t have that deathly decision hanging around his neck. Nate had shared the details surrounding Rick’s death with his family, but he hadn’t had the courage to share them with Rick’s family yet. Losing Rick six years after their father died was enough for them to deal with. They didn’t need to know that the man they’d accepted into their family for as long as he could remember had been the one to send Rick on the mission that had killed him.
Nate would give anything to have been the one who had been killed. Rick’s family needed him in a way that Nate’s didn’t. Rick had been a good man. When his father died two years after Rick had started college, he’d put his own life on hold to come home and help his mother with his younger siblings. While Nate had joined the military to fulfill a lifelong dream of following in his father’s footsteps and having the career his father had missed out on, Rick had seen the military as a means to a better life for his family. He’d joined to make a career for himself and to give his mother one less mouth to feed, while sending money home every month to help. He’d been too good of a man, and too good of a friend, to die. Nate had missed him every day since.
Tempe reached across the bar and patted Nate’s hand. “All I’m saying is that maybe if you continue to talk to someone, it would help. You can’t carry the guilt around forever, Nate, and you can’t let it rule your entire life.”
Nate had had all he could take for one night. He knew his family meant well, but there was only so much pushing a guy could take.
“Know what the great thing about the military was?” Nate came around the bar and dug his keys from his pocket. “No one gave a shit about my personal life. Lock up when you leave, okay? I’m heading home.”
Ten minutes later Nate was sitting in his truck at the stop sign on the corner of Main Street and Whippoorwill Avenue, thinking about Jewel. Could he keep his feelings to himself? He had no clue if he could or not, but he sure as hell could try. What he couldn’t do was stay away from the Fishers altogether. He owed it to Rick to keep his promise and take care of them. He turned onto Whippoorwill and navigated through the maze of side streets to the Fishers’ modest four-bedroom home. The driveway was empty, and the house was dark. Relief swept through him, followed by a whole hell of a lot of guilt. Now that he was twenty-seven and she twenty-two, his feelings for Jewel were finally acceptable, but his ties to Rick’s death felt more ominous than their age difference ever had.
Nate’s cell rang as he drove toward the river. He smiled at his youngest sister Shannon’s image on the screen and answered the call.
“Hey, sis. How’s it going?”
“Hi, Nate. Things are pretty good out here. I forgot how different Colorado was from the harbor, but Uncle Hal and everyone are great. Oh my gosh, you should see Treat and Max’s kids. They’re freaking adorable.” Shannon was staying with their uncle Hal in Weston, Colorado, while she carried out a project monitoring red foxes in the mountains. Treat was the oldest of Hal Braden’s six children, their second cousins. He and his wife, Max, had a daughter, Adriana, named for Treat’s deceased mother, and a young son named Dylan.
“First I need to figure out my life.” Nate silently considered Weston as an option if he decided it was too painful to remain in Peaceful Harbor. “When do you come back?”
“I’m not sure yet. It depends how quickly I can gather the data I need for my research. I’m sorry I’m not there to see you.”
He pictured Shannon tucking her long dark hair behind her ear and wishing she were home. They’d always been close, and Nate missed seeing her. She was a little nosy, poking around in their private lives, but he and his brothers were just as protective of her and Tempe.
“So, you haven’t seen anyone else yet?” she asked tentatively.
Nate knew she was asking if he’d seen the Fishers. It was on the forefront of his family’s mind because they knew how much angst coming home was causi
ng him. Shannon kept pretty close tabs on their family, and chances were she’d already spoken to Tempe or Sam and knew that Nate had just left the brewery—and that he’d been avoiding visiting the Fishers.
Would the guilt ever lessen? He turned down Mountain Road toward his cabin and ground out his response. “No. The Fishers weren’t home.”
“Oh.”
Silence stretched between them, carrying the worry in her cryptic response. Nate flicked on his high beams to combat the darkness and to give himself something to do other than think about the Fishers.
“Nate?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s all going to be okay. You’ll know when the time is right. I have faith in you.”
If only I had that same faith.
“Thanks, Shan.” The road narrowed and curved near the hiking trails. The hair on the back of his neck stood up at the sight of Rick’s red Jeep parked at the entrance to one of the hiking trails. The US Army bumper sticker was like a knife to Nate’s gut.
“Hey, does Jewel still drive Rick’s old Jeep?”
“I think so. Why?”
Nate parked next to the Jeep and cut the engine. “It’s parked at a hiking trail, but it’s after ten. It’s pitch-black out here, and Jewel hates the dark.”
“Maybe she’s out with friends or something.”
“You think?” Ever since Rick died, Jewel had lived her life in a safe little bubble, rarely veering from work or family. Anyone who knew Jewel knew that much. He doubted she’d be on a hiking trail after dark.
“No, not really. Try calling her.”
“Cell coverage out here sucks, but I will. I’m going to look for her. I’ll touch base with you when I know something.” Nate grabbed his hunting knife and headlamp from the glove compartment, along with the backpack full of medical supplies he kept behind the seat. He hooked the knife to his fatigues and shouldered the backpack, then checked out her Jeep. There were no personal belongings in sight, and the doors were locked. He was glad to see that Jewel had heeded his warnings about safety. After Rick died, he’d tried to step in and help their family when he was on leave, despite how difficult it was to keep his feelings for Jewel to himself. He’d brought gifts for the kids over the holidays and sent birthday presents, but the advice he’d given Jewel wasn’t out of guilt or the desire to step in as a pseudo older brother. He cared deeply for her. So much so that as he made his way down the trail, his thoughts turned possessive.
What kind of friends would take her out in the wilderness at night when she was afraid of being out in open spaces in the dark? Luckily, Nate and Rick used to blaze their own paths through these woods. He could practically navigate them with his eyes closed. The summer before Rick was killed, Nate had thought about taking Jewel out here when he returned for the holidays, to show her all the secret spots he’d come to love. He’d even toyed with it being the place where he finally opened up to her about his feelings. But he’d still had a year left on his military commitment, and he’d thought it wouldn’t be fair to ask her to wait for him. Then, when Rick died, all hopes of being with Jewel went out the window.
Guilt had a way of smothering a man’s hopes and dreams.
The light from the headlamp illuminated a narrow strip of the dirt trail. The deeper Nate went into the forest, the thicker the umbrella of leaves and the darker it became. He pulled out his phone and called Jewel. The call went to voicemail.
Damn it, Jewel, where are you?
He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted into the darkness. “Jewel?”
Met with silence, save for his own heavy breathing, he jogged down the path. Guided by the headlamp and instinct, he scanned the forest and repeatedly called out her name. He knew the trail branched off into two other trails, each stretching from four to ten miles. It was anyone’s guess which trail Jewel might have taken, assuming she was there at all. Nate stopped at the entrance to the first trail and inspected the dirt for any signs of passersby. There were no fresh footprints, which wasn’t surprising. It was April, and the trails didn’t get busy until closer to summer. He hoped to hell he was on the right track—actually, he hoped to hell that Jewel wasn’t in the forest at all. He’d rather she was safely hanging out with friends or in her mother’s house.
He continued on to the next trail a mile farther out. He took off his shirt and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow, then stuffed it in his backpack as he checked the trailhead for fresh footprints.
Bingo. He followed the footprints deeper into the forest.
The thought of Jewel out here in the dark, alone and afraid, had his adrenaline pumping. He picked up speed and sprinted down the trail, hollering her name. He tried to think of other reasons her Jeep might be parked at the start of the trail. She could have had engine trouble and had gotten a friend to drive her home, but he knew Jewel needed her vehicle for work and to help her mother. She would have had it towed, or she’d have been back there with the Jeep and someone who could help her.
“Jewel!” he called into the darkness. “Jewel!”
“Here! Over here!” Jewel’s trembling voice sent his heart to his throat.
He bolted over the crest of the hill and nearly tripped over her, lying beside a tree. He crouched next to her and did a quick visual assessment. Her eyes were wide and damp, as if she’d been crying. Her hair was tangled, and she had a streak of dirt across her cheek. She wore a pair of cutoffs, and her knees were also smeared with dirt. All of the emotions he’d been tamping down rushed forward.
“Nate? How did you find me?” Her eyes filled with tears. “Why are you here? I twisted my ankle. I thought I’d be here forever.”
He gathered her in his arms, careful not to jostle her ankle, and tucked her safely against his chest, wanting to keep her there forever. Her tears wet his chest as he tried to soothe her.
“Shh. You’re okay. I’ve got you. I saw your Jeep and was worried.”
“I’m so glad you’re here. I was so scared, Nate.”
The way she said his name, full of gratitude and something deeper, threw him back to the kiss they’d shared. The heat that had enveloped them the moment their mouths had come together. He knew it was wrong, but he wanted to kiss her now, until the fear in her eyes subsided. And that made him an asshole, given the way her body was trembling against him.
“Thank you for looking for me,” she said with a shaky inhalation.
Her voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he shoved those emotions down deep again. As if he’d flicked a switch, Nate pulled on his military training and reluctantly detached from his emotions and focused on evaluating Jewel’s injury and getting her to a safe place.
“How long ago did you get hurt?”
“I don’t know. It was still light out.”
She’d been out there, injured and alone, for hours. If only he hadn’t hung out with his family, or driven by her house, he could have found her earlier.
“I’m sorry, Jewel. I wish I had gotten here sooner. Why are you out here alone? How did you fall?”
“I needed to get away. Mom took the kids to Aunt Giselle’s for the weekend, so I thought I’d come out here and…” She shrugged. “I pulled out my phone and it slipped out of my hands and over the ledge, and when I stepped down the hill, my foot caught on that stupid root.” She pointed to a root sticking out of the ground.
“There’s nothing wrong with you hiking. I know you’re strong and capable, but it’s best to hike with a friend.”
“Yeah, I know that now.” She smiled, and his eyes landed on her full lips.
He reluctantly tore them away. “I need to check your ankle.”
Nate focused on her injury instead of on how warm and soft her skin was. He moved her foot to one side, then the other.
She winced and pushed his hands away. “Don’t move it.”
“I’m sorry, but at least it doesn’t feel broken—just a little swollen. Let me get you fixed up and then I’ll get your phone.” He reached for his bac
kpack.
“No. Can you get my phone first?” Her baby blues pleaded with him, and even though he would rather see to her first, he did as she asked.
He looked down the steep incline for her phone, but even with the headlamp, it was difficult to see clearly. He was glad she hadn’t tried to navigate the slope on her injured ankle.
He didn’t realize she’d been holding on to his boot until he tried to take a step away. He crouched beside her again and handed her the headlamp. “Here. You hold this. I’ll only be a minute or two, and you can watch me every step of the way.”
She clutched the light to her chest.
He didn’t want to leave her for a second, but he had no choice. “I’ll need you to aim it down the hill so I can see where I’m going.”
“Oh, right.”
She aimed the headlamp at him, and he felt her eyes on him as he climbed down the side of the mountain, searching for her phone.
“It fell over toward your left, I think. Be careful. Don’t trip. Be careful.” Her voice was filled with worry. She was always worrying about her family. The last thing he wanted was for her to worry about him, too.
“I’m fine, Jewel. I could cross this mountain blindfolded.” His eyes adjusted to the dark, and after a few minutes of searching, he found her phone.
“I’ve got it.” He held it up so she could see that both he and the phone were safe. Then he scaled the steep incline and handed her the phone.
“Thanks,” she said, clutching her phone and the light. “The cell service out here sucks. I was trying to check in with my mom to make sure they made it to my aunt’s safely, and I couldn’t get a single bar. Now the darn thing is dead.”
Healed by Love (Love in Bloom: The Bradens) Page 2