by Anne Barwell
“Not much. Just that you’d been in the Marines and something had happened, but she didn’t know what.”
“Promise me you won’t tell her what I’m about to tell you?” Donovan studied Ethan intently as if trying to read his answer before he gave it.
“Whatever you say stays between us,” Ethan promised. A thought struck him. “That goes for what I just told you as well, right?”
“Of course. Heidi and I have known each other a long time, but it wasn’t just always the two of us. I met Lee about the same time. He was a great guy, a writer like your friend Tomas. He’d carry notebooks around with him, and he was forever jotting down stuff. He had a wicked sense of humor, and I swear he had no fear, considering some of the pranks he got up to. A real practical joker, but he had a kind heart.” Donovan smiled at a memory. “He’d do anything for anyone. God, I still miss him so much.”
“I’m sorry. What happened to him?”
“He was riding home on his bike one night, and some drunk ran a stop sign. Lee swerved to miss him, and lost control of the bike. By the time the paramedics arrived, he was already dead. They caught the asshole later, but it was too late. Lee was gone. I didn’t even know until his mom phoned me. He’d died, and I wasn’t there.” Donovan’s voice had gone flat. “He was the reason I joined the Marines, I guess. I wanted to honor his memory, do something worthwhile. He’d never gotten to live his dreams, so I was determined to do something with my life because he hadn’t been able to.”
“I’m sorry,” Ethan repeated, unsure what else to say that wouldn’t sound trite or inadequate. Donovan had loved Lee, still did. Ethan could hear the pain in his voice, although Donovan was trying to hide it. Ethan edged closer to him so their thighs were touching, and squeezed his hand tighter.
Donovan didn’t seem to notice.
“I thought Lee would be proud of me serving my country and making a difference. Fuck, was I wrong.” Donovan’s fist clenched, his knuckles white.
His eyes glazed over, his voice flattened further, becoming a monotone. He sounded as though he was reading out of a textbook, not sharing a story that was painful as hell. He was distancing himself from whatever had happened next.
He’d already lost the man he’d loved. What could be worse than that?
Fuck, what do I do?
Ethan felt way out of his depth. Shit, he cared about Donovan, but he didn’t know what to do. All he could do was listen and hope it was enough.
Heidi’s words replayed in his mind. “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know as well.”
“There… was one hell of a clusterfuck while I was in Afghanistan,” Donovan said. “The Humvee got hit. Tad… I saw him get killed right next to me.”
“Oh God.”
Donovan continued as though Ethan hadn’t spoken, or he hadn’t heard him. “But that wasn’t the worst of it. Oh hell, it wasn’t the worst of it.”
His body shook. Then he went very still and quiet.
“What happened, Donovan?” Ethan whispered. “Talk to me please. Please, you’re scaring me.”
Donovan pulled away. He stood and stumbled toward the river. Ethan followed. He slid his hand around Donovan’s waist when Donovan slipped on the wet grass, pulling them both down to sit on the grass.
He didn’t care that it was wet, but instead kept holding Donovan and making soothing noises.
When Donovan finally seemed to register Ethan was there, it didn’t make it any better. He looked at Ethan with eyes full of fear and pain.
“I didn’t know she was there. I swear I didn’t. I was firing at the enemy, reacting, doing what I was trained to do. Tad was dead. I saw a glint of metal, so I fired….”
Donovan made a choking noise. He yanked free of Ethan and shuffled away from him.
“It wasn’t who you thought it was, was it?” Ethan guessed what was coming next.
“No.” Donovan ran his hand through his hair. “I shot a kid, Ethan. A kid! She was only about eight years old. I heard her mother scream. I still hear her scream. Still see Tad’s body, except….” He choked back a sob. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Ethan didn’t know what else to say, and he knew it really wasn’t okay. Donovan was hurting. No wonder he had nightmares. He crawled over to Donovan, held him, and stroked his hair. “You’ve never told anyone about this before? It’s a hell of a thing to keep to yourself.”
“You’re not….” Donovan looked up at Ethan.
“Not what?” Ethan frowned. “I’m worried, yes, and I think it sucks that you went through this.” Realization dawned. “Oh. You really thought I’d judge you? Shit, Donovan, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deliberately shoot her, and you’ve carried the guilt for it for how long? You’re as much a victim of this—” What had Donovan called it again? “—clusterfuck, as she was. As your friend Tad was.”
“I couldn’t handle you looking at me, knowing what I’d done,” Donovan said very quietly. “My nightmares… I see Tad looking at me with this look of disgust on his face. I roll him over, and he’s accusing me, and he’s….”
“Wrong,” Ethan said firmly. “Definitely wrong, and I bet if he was really in your dreams, he’d tell you that too. Shit happens, but you don’t have to go through it alone.”
Donovan looked up and drew in a deep breath. “Does that mean you’re going to practice what you preach?”
Ethan chuckled. “You’re regaining your humor, so I’m going to take that as a good sign rather than an insult. One suggestion, though. Don’t tell Heidi you thought she’d react negatively. You’d really hurt her feelings.”
“Like I’ve hurt yours?” Donovan flinched.
“No. You’ve known each other for years. We still have to get to know each other properly, so I’ll forgive you for thinking that.” The side of Ethan’s mouth twitched. “Just this once, mind. I can’t be with someone who keeps secrets. Not again. No matter how bad stuff is, we share, okay?”
“Okay.” Donovan stared at him. “Hold on and back up a moment. Did you just say you can’t be with someone—”
Ethan cut him off by kissing him softly. Donovan leaned into the kiss, and they held each other for a moment. It felt not only good, but right.
“I’m not saying this is a relationship,” Ethan said after they finally came up for air. “I like you a lot, and I care about you, and I’d like to see where this goes. Perhaps… I have to go home to London in a couple of days.” He smiled, shyly, feeling himself blush. “Perhaps we could meet for tea and coffee when you visit Mitchell at the gallery?”
Donovan used his fingers to trace the contours of Ethan’s face. “I’d like that. All of that. A lot.”
Chapter 13
ETHAN GLANCED at his watch. Donovan was late. They were supposed to meet at the Worthington before going out for dinner together. Now they’d cleared the air, they’d decided dinner was in order. Donovan knew a place that was private and served great food. However, he had a few errands to run in the village now he’d fixed his car, so Ethan had suggested they meet at the Worthington, then drive to the restaurant together. That way he could enjoy a pot of tea and finish his book while he waited.
“Your date stand you up?” Craig spoke before Ethan realized he was there. “I can make you another pot of tea if you want one.” He nodded toward the door. “I’m sure Donovan won’t be long. He probably got held up somewhere. He’s usually a punctual kind of bloke.” Craig frowned. “He’s okay, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he’s fine.”
“Oh, so it is a date.” Craig looked smug. “I knew it!”
“So how much did you win?” Ethan asked. Donovan had told him about his suspicions that the locals had taken bets as to how long it would take them to get together.
“How did you know about that?” Craig asked suspiciously.
“If you want to be subtle, you need to take lessons,” Ethan said, “and I don’t want any more tea.” An inner voice that soun
ded suspiciously like Donovan prodded him. “Thank you for the offer, though.”
Shit, what was he doing internalizing Donovan? Ethan wasn’t sure whether it was a good sign or not. The last thing he needed was another relationship with someone telling him how he should behave.
Stop it!
Donovan wasn’t Duncan, and it was only a few hours since they’d admitted they both wanted to give a relationship a go. Or at least see if their growing friendship and feelings for each other might lead to something.
He did feel more relaxed around Donovan since they’d talked, though, and had noticed Donovan liked to touch. Although Ethan usually wasn’t one for physical contact, he enjoyed the feel of Donovan’s skin against his. He smiled, thinking about the kiss they’d shared and how it had felt so right. It wasn’t something he’d really felt with someone before, and he couldn’t wait to kiss Donovan again. After all, it was important to make sure his reaction hadn’t been a one-off.
“You okay?” Craig asked. “I’ve never seen you smile like that before.”
Ethan blushed. If he sneezed in this village, would someone ask if he had a cold? Sometimes a bloke sneezed for other reasons. Reasons which were no one’s business but his own. “I’m fine,” he said hurriedly before Craig asked any more awkward questions.
“If you need anything, just yell. I’ll be over at the bar.”
“Thanks, I will.” Ethan reached into his pocket and retrieved his mobile. He was just about to phone Donovan, when Donovan phoned him.
“Hey, you still at the Worthington?”
“Yes. Where are you?” Ethan hoped he didn’t sound too abrupt.
“Stuck at the hardware store.” Donovan sounded annoyed. “They’re closing in a few minutes, but insist they have this damn part somewhere. I ordered it last week. It should be here.”
“Do you want me to meet you there?” Ethan asked. “We don’t want to be late for dinner, and it will save time.” The restaurant was a good half hour’s drive, and Ethan hated being late.
“If you don’t mind?”
“It’s fine.” Ethan wasn’t sure how to get to the hardware store, but he could find out. After all, Craig had said to yell if he needed something.
“Morrissey’s Hardware is on the same street as the post office, but at the other end and across the road,” Donovan said. “You can’t miss it. See you soon. Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be there soon.” Ethan hung up and walked over to the counter. “What’s the quickest way to Morrissey’s Hardware from here?”
“That’s at the far end of Ross Street,” Craig said. He thought for a moment. “I usually take the shortcut through Woolsey Lane.”
“I don’t know where that is.”
“Oh right. Turn left when you leave here, and it’s on your right. There’s a signpost….”
“The signpost came down in that storm last week.” Patricia came up from behind Craig. “Cross the street, and it’s to the right of the bookshop. It looks more like a driveway than a lane, but you still can’t miss it.”
“Okay, thanks.” Ethan retrieved his coat from the back of his chair and headed out of the Worthington. “Turn left, then it’s on the right,” he said.
The bookshop wasn’t difficult to find. Ethan spotted it before he crossed the road, but the entrance to the lane was half-blocked by an overgrown bush. Patricia was right. It did look more like a driveway than a thoroughfare. Ethan pushed past the bush and started walking. Crumbling brick walls framed the lane on both sides, the space between not wide enough for a vehicle. However, it served its purpose and would get him to Donovan faster than walking the long way around.
Ethan picked up his pace. He and Donovan had wasted so much time already, and he was looking forward to this dinner. Now he’d found Donovan, Ethan intended to make sure he gave their relationship a fighting chance. No more secrets. If he had any reservations about any of it, he’d talk to Donovan, not brush them to one side as he’d done in the past.
He heard voices before he saw two people a few feet ahead. Recognizing Jane Fitzgerald and Gary Smith, Ethan shoved his hands into his pockets and kept his head down. He didn’t have time to stop and chat, let alone with someone who kept flirting with him when he wasn’t interested. As he drew closer, he could hear their conversation more clearly.
What the hell?
“Oh my God! It’s you. I know it’s you!” Jane yelled at Gary. Whatever had passed between them couldn’t have been good, given how angry they both sounded.
“Shut up!” Gary hissed. He raised one hand as though he was going to hit her, but instead of taking a step back, she stood her ground. He lowered his hand, his arm dropping to his side, and he clenched his fist. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You pretended you gave a shit.” Jane poked Gary in the chest. “My friend died.”
Didn’t she realize her action was only going to make things worse? Not only that, but she was making a spectacle of herself. Or she would be if there was anyone else around. For a village full of busybodies, he seemed to be the only witness to their argument.
“Let’s talk about this somewhere else, okay?” Gary tried to smooth things over, but he was wasting his time.
“You—”
“Shut up! Shut up!” Gary shoved Jane hard. She stumbled back, her head connecting with the wall behind her.
She slid down the wall, her body hitting the ground with a thud.
“Oh, my God.” Ethan ran toward them without thinking. She was hurt. She wasn’t moving. He had to do something.
Gary looked up as though noticing Ethan for the first time. He paled, a vein throbbing in his forehead. “How much did you hear?” He took a step backward, away from Ethan.
Jane groaned, her eyes moving under her lids, but she didn’t open them.
“What?” Ethan crouched down to take a better look at Jane. He’d seen this kind of thing before. Kids playing, a rough game that quickly escalated out of control. Luckily that time the injuries had looked worse than they were. Hopefully that would be the case now too.
He gingerly felt the back on Jane’s head, and his fingers came away sticky with blood. Leaning one hand on the wall to steady himself, he took a deep breath, frantically trying to remember his first aid training. She seemed to be breathing okay, so that was a good sign. Right? “We need to call—”
“Keep your hands where I can see them!” Something in Gary’s voice made Ethan look up.
“Oh fuck,” he muttered.
Gary held a gun. He aimed it at Ethan. “You’re a witness. I can’t leave you here.” Gary spoke quickly. He seemed nervous. “You know that, right?”
“Right.” Ethan’s heart thumped in his chest. He swallowed, his mouth dry. “It was an accident,” he said. “I….”
“You did hear her!” Gary hissed. He waved the gun. There was no mistaking what he meant. “You’re coming with me.”
“What? No. I….” Ethan was doing no such thing. “She needs help. You can’t just leave her there!”
Nevertheless he raised his hands above his head so Gary could see them. Arguing with the bloke was one thing, but giving Gary an excuse to shoot him? Ethan wasn’t that stupid.
Footsteps sounded from the direction he’d come. Was it only a few minutes ago?
Gary moved quickly. Before Ethan realized what had happened, he felt the hard point of the gun shoved in his back.
He closed his mouth quickly.
Oh my God. This is real. What had he been thinking, talking back to someone with a gun?
“Get up. Walk straight ahead,” Gary whispered in his ear. “If you see someone, don’t stop. Just nod and keep walking.”
“Are you going to kill me?” Ethan asked quietly. He stood slowly, so Gary wouldn’t think he was trying something. So he wouldn’t pull the trigger.
“That’s up to you, now, isn’t it?”
DONOVAN STRODE through the doors of the Worthington. To hell with waitin
g any longer. Ethan hadn’t shown up at the hardware store, and his phone had gone to voicemail. After waiting another ten minutes, Donovan had jumped in the car and retraced both possible routes, hoping to spot Ethan on the way. He’d thought about the shortcut, but dismissed it, as it had still been blocked by the bush when he’d driven past on the way home that morning, and the sign had yet to be replaced. Besides, Ethan didn’t know about it, so it was unlikely he would have taken that route.
Craig looked up from where he was wiping down a table. “Are you looking for Ethan?” he asked. “You just missed him. He left about twenty minutes ago. Asked me directions to Morrissey’s. I thought he was meeting you there.”
“He was. Any idea which route he took?”
“I told him about the shortcut through Woolsey Lane.” Craig adjusted the tea towel on his shoulder when it started to slip.
“It’s still blocked,” Donovan said, “and the sign is down.”
Had Ethan gotten lost?
“There’s plenty of room to get past that bush,” Patricia said from the other side of the bar. “I walked through there just before lunch. They trimmed it back late this morning so the lane can still be used until they remove the obstruction completely tomorrow.”
“Thanks. I’ll try there next.” Donovan checked his phone, but there were no messages or missed calls.
“Let me know if you find him, will you?” Craig called after Donovan as he left.
“Yeah, sure,” Donovan said absently, although he was already too far away for Craig to hear him. Where the hell was Ethan?
He jogged across the road and into Woolsey Lane. A group of people were congregating at the Ross Street entrance at the other end of it. They definitely hadn’t been there when he’d gone past before.
“Keep back, please. This is a police investigation.” Doug hit the button on his police radio as Donovan approached. “Yes, sir. I’ll stay until the ambulance arrives. They should be here any minute now.”
Ambulance? Oh God no. Donovan bit his lip, tasting blood. All he could see was a body on the ground half-covered with a coat. Trudy—who worked at the local nursing home—crouched down beside whoever it was. Donovan pushed past Mrs. O’Neil, who caught his arm.