Only Love

by Garrett Leigh

  “Don’t tell me that kid has turned you into a hippy freak too.”

  “Freak?” Jed’s tone was sharp enough to cut glass. Nick’s awkward geniality was one thing, and Jed could excuse him putting his foot in his mouth, but Max was off limits.

  For a moment, Nick met his stare head-on, then he squirmed and shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, so how are you finding it up there? Tess said Max gave you the room with the view. I know you like the water.”

  “It’s pretty cool. I like the quiet.” Jed got up, his appetite gone, and stretched his leg. His run had gone well, but his muscles were beginning to stiffen. He ran his gaze along the mantelpiece, taking in the plethora of family photographs. Most were of the kids, either with their arms around each other, with Kim, or with Max. There was only one of Nick, and it was clearly more than a few years old.

  Nick appeared behind him, startling him for the second time. Jed had neither noticed himself drifting closer to the photographs nor Nick getting up. Nick reached around him and fumbled with a small frame hidden behind the rest. “Here.” He handed it to Jed. “Remember this? I didn’t until Kim dug it out of Dad’s old shit.”

  Jed stared at the grainy image, taken almost twenty years ago to the day, and swallowed hard. He hadn’t seen his mother’s face in years. Even his memories of her were clouded by her long, slow death. Sometimes, the wizened, headscarfed creature dying in a hospital bed was all he could recall, a far cry from the statuesque blonde clutching her boys close in the photograph. “It looks like someone else.”

  Nick reclaimed the frame and shoved it back in its place. “I know. Kim makes me keep it out, but I fucking hate that picture.”

  The words, though flat and emotionless caught Jed by surprise, but Tess charged into the room before he could even consider a response.

  Jed caught her before she could run right into him—he’d learned his lesson—and swung her up to sit on his good hip. “Hey, bug. Whatcha doing?”

  “Looking for you, silly.” Tess didn’t spare a glance for her father. “I need your help. Mom doesn’t know how to play my new game, and Uncle Max says it makes his eyes go googly. Come see, come see.”

  It was the out Jed needed. He set Tess on the floor and let her lead him from the room without looking back.

  “FANCY A swim?”

  Jed glanced behind him, grinning as Max dropped down beside him on the jetty. They’d been home from an exhausting day at the Cooper house for an hour or so, but Jed had yet to go inside. He’d retreated to the water’s edge as soon as he’d pulled the truck to a stop, craving some peace and solitude.

  Max had let him be for a while, but it seemed his time was up. Not that Jed minded. Max was probably the only thing that could make the pristine quiet of the lake better. “It’s a little cold, even for me.”

  “Oh yeah?” Max nudged him with his shoulder. In stark comparison to his own brittle fatigue, Max seemed pleasantly buzzed, like he’d had a few beers. Perhaps he had. “You’re probably right. I’ve never tried it in winter.”

  “Do you swim here in the summer?”

  Max’s grin faded. “Not anymore.”

  “Something happen?”

  “Not the way you’re thinking. Flo doesn’t like it. I have to tie her up to stop her following me, and last year she got so mad she pulled the fence down.”

  Jed could believe that. The collie was endearingly protective of Max, her instincts razor sharp. If she didn’t want Max to swim in the lake, he was inclined to believe she had a good reason. “Maybe she doesn’t want you to swim on your own.”

  “Maybe. We can test your theory out this summer, if you’re still here.”

  Max said the last part quietly and averted his gaze. Jed wanted to promise he’d be there to see the summer with him. After all, where else was he gonna go? But he didn’t, and the moment passed.

  Max threw a stick into the water. Jed watched, amused, as Flo charged after it and repeated the trick over and over. After a little while he chanced a glance at Max.

  Max caught him and grinned. “Okay?”

  Jed nodded. The heat of Max’s body a few inches away was enough to keep the chill of the evening air from seeping into his bones. And there was something exhilarating about knowing the lingering ache in his muscles was there of his own volition. It was familiar, like an old friend, and he felt content. “I never gave you your present.”

  Max snorted in a way that told Jed he was definitely slightly drunk. “You got me a present? Or did Carla get me the same preppy button-down shirt you gave Nick?”

  “Is that what I got him?” Jed had lost track of the perfectly wrapped gifts Carla had presented him with a few days before.

  “Yep. No offense, but if that’s what you got me, you might as well return it and save your money.”

  Jed maneuvered himself to a standing position, pleasantly surprised at his steady sense of equilibrium. “Dude, I didn’t buy you a shirt. In fact, I didn’t buy you anything. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  He held out his hand to pull Max up from the jetty. Max hesitated a moment before he ignored it and sprung to his feet. Jed rolled his eyes. “You think I can’t take your weight?”

  “No, I just don’t need you to, at least, not today. I let you carry me in from the workshop, didn’t I?”

  He had a point. Jed let it go and led him away from the water to the back of the cabin where Max grew his vegetables. It took him a moment to search out the brightly painted plant pot. He’d asked Belle to hide it—a task she’d taken very seriously.

  Max eyed the young sapling with interest. “You got me a plant?”

  “Not any plant. It’s an apple tree, or at least it will be in about a hundred years.”

  “You grew it for me?”

  Jed grinned. “Eventually. I wasn’t sure it was going to work at first. It only sprouted a week ago. Belle painted the pot for me.”

  “Huh,” Max said thoughtfully. “I wondered what you two were doing out here. She’s the best partner in crime, isn’t she? She never breathes a word.” He turned the pot around in his hands, admiring the tiny sapling from every angle. “Green apples, right?”

  Jed didn’t bother to answer. His aversion to red fruit amused Max to no end. He saw no need to encourage it.

  Max set the pot back in its sheltered place behind the dilapidated greenhouse. “Thank you. I love it. Are you ready for your present?”

  “Not another scarf is it?” Over the last few days, Jed had somehow managed to accumulate a collection of knitted scarves he’d never, ever, wear.

  Max chuckled. “Not quite. Come inside.”

  Jed followed Max into the cabin, watching curiously as he retrieved a small, plain black box from a drawer in his nightstand before beckoning him into Jed’s room. Jed unzipped his hooded sweatshirt and tossed it onto his bed. Max held out the box to him. Jed took it, cocking his head at the intriguing rattle.

  “Sorry, I forgot to wrap it, and I don’t know when your birthday is to save the right newspaper. Open it.”

  “July 6.” Jed said the words with a slightly bitter taste in his mouth—he’d turned thirty-two a few days after he’d learned the news that a simple stomach virus had left him a write-off—but was quickly distracted by the bright green pins he found in the tiny black box.

  “I want to see where you’ve been,” Max said by way of explanation. He gestured to the huge map of the world on Jed’s bedroom wall.

  Jed raised an eyebrow. “How’s that a present for me?”

  Max shrugged. “My mum always used to say you couldn’t see where you were going until you’d come to terms with where you’d been.”

  Jed fought the urge to roll his eyes, to say something flippant and throw the pins into a drawer, never to be seen again. He wasn’t sure he could even remember every place he’d ever been. On some operations, he could be in and out of a country in a matter of hours.

  “Come on,” Max needled him gently. “I bet you’ve been all over the world. Wouldn�
��t you like to see it in black and, er, green?”

  Against his better judgment, Jed retrieved a pin from the box. “Do I have to do it in order?”

  Max stepped forward and pried the pin from his fingers. He stuck it in the northwest sector of Oregon. “That’s where you came from, and where you are now. You can go forwards or backwards, it’s up to you.”

  Considering he’d end up in the same place either way, Jed figured it didn’t much matter, but he humored Max and decided to tempt fate by tracing his journey from where it had begun, from paratrooper-training school in Georgia all the way to the Iraq desert.

  It took Jed a while to cover the map with pins, even though there were some places he had to leave out, places no civilian could ever know the American military had been. When he was done, he stood back and stared, a strange sense of wonder creeping over him. He really had been to every corner of the globe. Shame he didn’t have much to show for it but violence, pain, and heartache.

  Oh yeah? What about jump school in Guam? Or jungle training in the Philippines? It wasn’t all bad.

  It was true. The Army had given Jed the best years of his life, but at the same time, the past two had been among the worst. He’d contracted a chronic, incurable illness, suffered a life-changing injury, and watched a crew of men he considered his family get blown to bits. Did he want to be reminded of that every time he looked at his bedroom wall? He wasn’t entirely sure.

  Distracted, he stretched up and stuck a final pin he’d forgotten in the northernmost corner of Alaska. He wavered as he righted his balance, his injured leg finally protesting the rigors of the day.

  Max caught him, clamping his arms around him from behind. “Whoa, easy.”

  Jed leaned back, drawn into the warmth of Max’s strong chest, and found Max’s face a hairsbreadth away. Max smiled, his eyes gleaming in the dimly lit room. His lips parted and he took a breath, but he didn’t speak. Instead, he took Jed’s chin in his hand and kissed him… kissed him until Jed was so dizzy he could hardly hold himself up.

  Chapter Fourteen

  MAX HOVERED with his hand poised to knock on Jed’s closed bedroom door. It was sunrise, but he knew Jed would be awake. Jed was always awake, especially in that eerie twilight before dusk and dawn. Sometimes, an afternoon nap on the couch seemed to be the only sleep he’d get for days.

  Max shifted his weight from one foot to the other, rubbing his bleary eyes with his other hand. He was hungover, but that would teach him for trying to drown out Kim’s nagging with four bottles of Nick’s fancy imported beer. Max didn’t drink often, at least not to excess, and when he did it went straight to his head.

  And other parts of his body, it seemed, as he’d woken up with the distinct sense that he owed Jed an apology.

  He didn’t know what had possessed him to kiss Jed, but beyond a bellyful of beer he was at a loss to explain himself. He was attracted to Jed, of that there was no doubt, but he’d been drawn to him from the beginning and learned to live with it, so what was so different about yesterday? What had changed?

  Perhaps it was Jed. For reasons Max didn’t quite understand, leaving him even for one night had been horrendous. Jed was a grown man, a soldier, and Max knew he was perfectly capable of looking after himself. His worry, he supposed, was that Jed wouldn’t bother.

  Max snorted softly. That might explain the full-to-bursting refrigerator and canine babysitter, but it didn’t explain why he’d felt the need to shove his tongue in Jed’s mouth. He tried to not think about the fact that before he’d come to his senses and fled the room, Jed had definitely kissed him back.

  He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. There was no response. He knocked again and called Jed’s name, but nothing. Eventually, he steeled his nerve and pushed open the door.

  The room was empty. Max took in the perfect order and neatly made bed. His gaze fell on the huge atlas, covered with its new array of bright-green pins, and heat flooded his cheeks, overcoming the renewed fascination he had with Jed’s travels. Flustered, Max retreated outside to resume his search.

  He came up blank. Jed’s truck was parked in the yard, but he was nowhere to be seen. Max checked the boat shed, the greenhouse, and finally the jetty, but saw no sign of him anywhere. Confused, he drifted back inside and set about making a comforting breakfast to settle his hangover. He made Jed some of the fresh apple oatmeal he seemed to like, but when he didn’t appear by midmorning, Max admitted defeat and threw it on the compost heap.

  Nagging worry gnawed at Max for the rest of the morning. Though he’d scheduled a day off, he kept himself busy in the boat shed, doing odd jobs and finishing up a furniture project he’d neglected for a while. At lunchtime he carried the hollowed-out tree lamp into the cabin and left it on the kitchen table while he made lunch. Then he stole a trick from Jed’s repertoire and fell asleep on the couch.

  It was late afternoon when the sound of the cabin phone ringing woke him from a restless, maudlin dream he couldn’t quite remember. He answered it absently, knowing it would be Kim, Carla, or Dan.

  “Yeah?”

  “Max? Where are you? Are you at home?”

  Max sat up and rubbed his face. Something in Kim’s tone had him wide-awake. “Of course I’m at home. I answered the phone, didn’t I? What’s the matter?”

  “Is Nick there?”

  “Nick? Why would he be here?”

  “Frank’s dead. He died two days ago, and he didn’t tell me. I’ve only just found out.”

  “What?” Max got up and took the cordless phone to the back door, scanning the yard yet again for any sign of Jed. “How? Does Jed know?”

  “Heart attack. That’s all I know. I only found out because the funeral home called here. I’ve no idea if Jed knows. That’s why I’m calling. Nick and I got into a big fight, and he drove off. I figured he might come looking for Jed.”

  Max was silent. He had no love for Jed and Nick’s father. He absorbed the sudden influx of information until something occurred to him. It was midafternoon and Nick’s office was shut until the New Year. “Is he drunk?”

  “Yes. He’s fucking wasted, Max. He has been for days.”

  “Shit.” Max rubbed a hand over his head, breathing out the curse word low and soft. Nick being drunk as a skunk was one thing, but climbing behind the wheel of his car was another. It was the day after Christmas. Lots of families were bound to be on the roads traveling home. What if he killed someone? Fuck. What if Jed was with him and he killed him?

  Max’s blood ran cold. No. That wouldn’t happen. Jed wouldn’t let him drive, and even with Jed’s weakened leg, Nick was no match for him.

  “Max? Are you there?”

  “I’m here. What do you need me to do?”

  “Can I talk to Jed?”

  Max shut the back door with a bang. “He’s not here. I don’t know where he is.”

  “Find him. Nick’s out of control, and Jed’s probably the only one who can get through to him.”

  Kim hung up, leaving Max to stare at the phone and ponder his next move. Find him. That was all well and good, but he’d been looking for Jed all day, to no avail. He glanced down at Flo, sharp eyed by his side, alert that something was afoot. “Come on, girl, let’s go find him.”

  He stamped into his boots and set off to check the hiking trails around the lake first, but as he passed the boat shed, Flo bounded off ahead, her bark excited and her tail wagging. Jed appeared by the jetty moments later, dressed in sweats, a hoodie, and his running shoes.

  So that’s where he’s been all day.

  Jed trailed to a stop a few feet away, his cell phone pressed to his ear. “I’ll be there, okay? But it’s going to take me a couple of days to get to Arizona.”

  Arizona? Max gazed at Jed, taking in his dead, hooded eyes and pale skin. He saw no trace of the gently animated man who’d covered the atlas with pins the night before, the man who’d been so enchanting Max had thrown himself at him. “Did Kim reach you?”

  “No.
”

  “Your dad had a heart attack.”

  Jed’s expression didn’t change at all. “Is he dead?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry….” Max took a deep breath, though to say what, he’d never be sure, because he was cut off by the squeal of tires skidding on gravel.

  He whirled around in time to see Nick’s Mercedes careen to a stop and narrowly miss one of the chickens. Furious, Max started forward, but Jed caught his arm and pulled him back.

  “Wait until he kills the engine.”

  Max waited. Something in Jed’s tone told him it would be dangerous to do otherwise. Nick threw open the car door. He half fell from the driver seat, leaving the car running, and Max’s heart sank. Kim had been right. Nick wasn’t drunk: he was totally tanked.

  Nick lurched toward them, his eyes wild. Jed blocked his path, positioning himself in front of Max. “What are you doing here?”

  “Dad’s dead.”

  “I know.”

  Nick stopped, though Max couldn’t be sure if it was Jed’s flat tone or the fact that he couldn’t remember where he was going that brought him to a halt. “You know? How?”

  Max ignored Jed’s obvious and unnecessary urge to shield him and stepped around him. “Kim called. She’s worried about you.”

  Nick laughed and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “Trust me, kid. She’s not worried about me. She’s worried where her next designer handbag is gonna come from.”

  “Fuck you.” Max bristled, and with the children safe at home, there was no need for him to contain his anger. Besides, Nick’s accusation wasn’t even true. Kim had fallen into the role of trophy wife because that was what suited him. Before the girls were born, she’d had her own dreams, the remnants of which lay packed in boxes in the boat shed a few feet away. “She’s worried because the father of her children is driving around out of his bloody head. What the hell are you doing driving like this?”