After the War

by Jessica Scott

  Finally she looked up at him. “I can’t do this with you, Sean.” A tentative admission. He heard the fear underlying those words. Knew the reaction she expected from him.

  “Why?” He was terrified he knew the answer already. Terrified that he knew exactly the words that were going to cross her lips next. She lifted her eyes to his, and he saw the sadness mixed with a storm of desire. He hated seeing the conflict within her, and it was somehow worse, knowing that he’d put it there.

  She pressed her lips together as she blinked rapidly. Finally, she answered and it was the answer he’d been afraid of. “Because in my heart, I’m still married.” Her voice broke and with it, the spell that had bound them together, her words giving voice to the thing he’d feared most.

  He let her go, knowing that the truth was going to be the thing that kept them apart. The man she’d loved had died.

  And no matter what he did, Sean couldn’t compete with a dead man.

  Eleven

  Sean walked into the battalion conference room, irritated that he was going to spend the next four hours—after duty—in a marathon staff meeting. And oh joy, his favorite person on the planet was already there. Captain Sal Bello, the Diablo Company commander, was already in his spot on the other side of the conference room table. Which was good because Sean wasn’t sure he could occupy the same space as the other man for more than five minutes.

  Luckily Teague, one of the other company commanders, walked in right behind him, saving him from having to be alone with Bello.

  Sean ran his tongue over his teeth. “Anyone know why we’re having this fun fest?”

  Teague shrugged and sat in his spot next to Sean. “Chapters, article fifteens. Warrior Transition Unit stuff. You know, the stuff the Army wants to pretend is a distractor from our jobs but is actually our sole purpose in life. Plus, we’ve got to figure out who is going to be on the rear detachment with Firs’ Sarn’t Sorren.”

  “Have they picked the poor dumb bastard who gets to command that shit show?” Sean flipped through his notes, checking off items he’d already completed.

  Bello snorted quietly. “Whoever gets the job is going to have their hands full because you poor bastards won’t throw your sick, lame, weak, or lazy out of the damn unit.”

  Teague lifted one eyebrow. “Compassion. It’s a thing good leaders do. You should look it up sometime.”

  Bello shook his head. “Training your soldiers for war is what good leaders do. Compassion gets people killed.”

  “So does thinking you know everything and ignoring the intelligence briefing,” Sean said.

  Bello glared at him. “People make mistakes.”

  “And sometimes those mistakes get people killed.”

  Bello said nothing and Sean let the old familiar argument go.

  Teague swiveled in his chair. “So how’s the investigation coming? Anders come up with any interesting findings?” It was amazing how the two of them could carry on a conversation like Bello wasn’t even there. Sean was pretty sure that’s how Bello preferred it, too.

  “Anders?” Bello looked up from his notepad.

  Sean closed his eyes. So much for hoping Bello wouldn’t get the reference. “Jack’s wife.”

  Bello grunted and leaned back in his chair, absorbing the news silently. “Met her once when we’d convoyed to Baghdad to pick up that equipment for the outpost.” It was the closest to civil that he and Bello would probably ever come. He leaned his elbows on the table, turning the lighter he always carried over in his fingers. “Jack was a good dude,” he said finally.

  The silence stretched into uncomfortable. Sean didn’t want to remember a time when he and Bello hadn’t hated each other. Didn’t want to remember his life as a lieutenant or the friends and soldiers that lieutenant had buried.

  I watched his truck fucking burn. He pushed to his feet. He couldn’t put a voice to the fury that surfaced every time the memory rose. He couldn’t put to words the hate and the violence that he’d wanted to unleash on anything that fucking moved that day.

  He’d stepped into the abyss that day. And it had been Kearney who’d pulled him out. And it was something that he could never explain. How could you put words to the need to lash out, to hurt, to kill? To fucking burn the world and laugh as it smoldered?

  People would look at him like he was a monster.

  And maybe he was. Maybe that urge was still inside him.

  He didn’t know. Had no idea. But he knew where his loyalty stood—and if that meant protecting the man who’d kept him from becoming a monster, then so be it. There were worse sins to be guilty of.

  The battalion commander walked in and the meeting got started. There were eighty-seven slides.

  It was going to be a long meeting.

  * * *

  Sarah’s heart tightened as she looked in on Anna, who was concentrating hard on sticking two silver grey Lego pieces together. It was funny how things changed so much. She’d never wanted kids. It was part of what had damaged things so irreparably with Sean.

  But Anna…Anna was a miracle. She hadn’t known she was pregnant when they’d notified her of Jack’s death. She’d been sent home that same week. Her boss hadn’t given her the option of staying in Iraq, even before Sarah had known she was pregnant.

  The pregnancy had nearly broken her. She’d wanted Anna. From the minute she’d found out she was pregnant, she’d wanted the baby growing inside her. She’d been sick from the start, throwing up so often that her doctor had worried about her ruining the lining of her esophagus. She’d prayed that her baby would be okay. Prayed that Anna would be born whole and healthy and a reminder of the love she held so close in her heart for her husband.

  But the physical discomfort had been nothing compared to the pain and fear wrestling for supremacy in her heart. She’d sobbed when Anna’s first cries filled the labor and delivery room. Relief and grief and a thousand other emotions had burned through her in those first moments.

  Anna turned around and looked up at her. “What’s wrong, Mommy?”

  “Nothing, honey. How was school today?” Anna called daycare school for some reason, and Sarah didn’t correct her. She’d be starting school in the fall and a piece of Sarah’s soul shriveled when she thought about sending her little girl out into the world.

  Anna turned back to the Legos. “Good.”

  Sarah blinked rapidly as her eyes burned, and she stepped out of Anna’s room. She tucked her arms around her waist and walked toward her bedroom. Past the wall of pictures that lined the hallway. Pictures she refused to take down for her daughter’s sake. For her own.

  Jack smiled back at her. She'd gotten to the point where she no longer teared up every time she thought of him. Mostly. It would always hurt. She’d accepted that the pain of losing him would always be with her in a way that Jack would never be again. But tonight? Tonight she was feeling weepy and off balance and not just from the PT test that morning.

  Everything was wrong and right and upside down tonight. Old feelings and new. Fresh hurt and long ago forgotten ones. They were twisted things inside her that she couldn’t untangle, no matter how much she tried.

  Something had slipped out from the box labeled “Sean” that she had locked away and tried to forget years ago. This morning when he’d touched her, things had gone completely off the rails. Part of her had been grateful that he’d been there, that she hadn’t had to face the humiliation of falling out of her run alone.

  But part of her was glad for other reasons. Dark, primitive reasons that had nothing to do with work or the Army or the life she’d lived since he’d walked away from her all those years ago because he’d wanted a wife, not a soldier.

  She stripped off her uniform and turned on the shower. She needed sleep and she needed to focus. She dropped her head beneath the spray and reveled in the calming heat seeping into her weary muscles. Tonight the scars on her leg ached, a hot burn that coursed over the damaged skin.

  The shower did nothing
to ease the throbbing pain around her heart. She stood there, letting the water cascade over her body, willing the stress and the tension to leave. But the pain tonight was already beating back the Motrin she’d taken earlier. She needed something stronger.

  Something that would make her forget the life she’d lost the day she’d lost Jack.

  She stepped out of the shower and reached for the little orange bottle of pills. She didn’t need them often.

  But tonight, she recognized the signs. There would be no sleep if she didn’t wrestle the pain under control.

  The tiny white pill wouldn’t knock her out. She’d insisted on something that wouldn’t get her high, wouldn’t make her slur her words in front of her daughter. But it would take the edge off enough, just enough to let her sleep.

  Her cell phone vibrated on the nightstand near her bed. It was eighteen hundred, well after the duty day had ended. She groaned when she saw Major Wilson’s number. God, but she didn’t want to get her ass chewed about failing the PT test.

  “Captain Anders, may I help you, sir or ma’am?”

  “I need you at the Death Dealer battalion headquarters in twenty minutes.”

  Sarah frowned. “Ma’am?”

  “The battalion commander has questions about your investigation.” Wilson paused. “Is this going to be a problem?”

  Sarah closed her eyes, hating that her boss consistently put her in situations where she had to bring her daughter to work. “No, ma’am, I’ll be there.”

  She pulled her uniform back on and tied her wet hair back. Popped another Motrin and hoped the pain would subside enough for her to make it through whatever questions LTC Gilliad had for her.

  And there went any plans to cook dinner for Anna.

  * * *

  “Captain Nichols, if you bring up Specialist Haverson’s warrior transition status one more time, I’m going to shove my size fourteen up your ass.”

  Sean stood in the command sergeant major’s office, an unusual place for a company commander to find himself. But then again, Cox was an unusual sergeant major. There was quite literally no one in the battalion more feared or respected than the CSM.

  Which was why when he asked Sean—politely—to step into his office after the three-hour long meeting, Sean didn’t refuse.

  “Sarn’t Major, you know the WTU isn’t taking care of our boys.”

  “And that burns me on a fundamental level, sir, but you can’t fix that. Haverson is not going downrange with you next time. You have got to spend your energy focused on the men who are.” There was a fatigue in Cox’s voice. A long-suffering weariness that came from too much time at war, too many battles lost, too many soldiers memorialized.

  And still, the man showed up every single day ready to do it all over again.

  “Sarn’t Major—”

  “Sir, I admire what you want to do, I really do. Keep tabs on your boy if you need to in order to sleep better at night. But stop asking the boss to get him reassigned. We don’t have the manpower for it.”

  The bitter truth, one Sean did not want to hear. “Sarn’t Major, I can’t just leave him to face this shit alone.”

  “This isn’t a fight you’re going to win, son,” Cox said roughly. “All you’re going to end up doing is shortchanging your credibility with the boss, which is already in short supply after the Kearney and Smith shit show.”

  Sean pressed his lips together. “Has the boss reviewed the investigating officer’s findings and recommendations?”

  “He has. She’s on her way in here to answer some questions as we speak.”

  Sean frowned, not sure how Sarah was going to work that with her daughter in tow.

  Cox folded his arms over his chest. “You plan on telling me why you’re asking?”

  “Just wondering if I’m going to get a new XO out of the deal or not.”

  Cox shook his head. “You’re more likely to get a new NCO. Kearney’s cashed his last check with that stunt he pulled breaking restriction earlier this week.”

  Sean shook his head. “Don’t move Kearney, Sarn’t Major. He’ll be fine once he goes downrange again.”

  “Which isn’t for another six months and in the meantime, he keeps hitting the blotter every other week.” Cox sank into his chair. “Sir, I admire your loyalty to your men. But this is not leadership. This is favoritism.”

  Sean met the big sergeant major’s eyes and nodded. The truth was an ugly thing, twisted and deformed between them.

  He stepped out of the sergeant major’s office in time to see Sarah walk in to the command group offices, Anna in tow.

  “So much for the end of the duty day,” Sarah said, her voice low to keep the colonel from hearing.

  “How are you feeling?” Sean asked.

  “I’ll live.” She smiled up at him, and it melted his heart a little more. “I always do.” She looked down at Anna, who was tugging at her hand.

  “Mommy, who’s this?”

  Sean simply stared at the little girl who looked so much like her daddy, stunned by the warmth around his heart for this child. Jack’s child.

  He crouched down to her level, carefully keeping an eye on Sarah in case he crossed any boundaries, and extended his hand. “I’m Sean. I’m a friend of your mommy’s.”

  Anna’s hand was impossibly tiny in his. “I’m Anna. Are you and my mommy dating?”

  Sean covered his mouth and coughed, barely hiding his shock at the guileless question.

  “Anna! Don’t be rude.”

  “What, Mommy? My friend Tiffany’s mommy has a friend, and Tiffany says she and her friend go out on dates.”

  Sarah looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Sean did his best not to laugh.

  She looked at Sean and shook her head and he sobered instantly. “Honey, I need you to sit here and wait for me. Be very quiet, okay?”

  “Mommy, I don’t want to sit out here and wait.”

  He could see tension rising up Sarah’s neck. He didn’t know how parents did it, juggling the demands of parenting with the insane hours the military required. “I can take her to my office, if you’d like. I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on.”

  Sarah’s mouth moved but no sound came out.

  Anna inserted herself into the space. “Can I, Mommy?”

  “I don’t mean to put you on the spot,” he said quietly. “I’m just trying to help.”

  She swallowed and nodded. A piece of curly brown hair fell from the tie at the base of her neck. “I’ll come get her as soon as I’m done.”

  Sean held out his hand to Anna. “Want to see my office?”

  “Sean?”

  He paused, relishing the feel of the little girl’s fingers wrapped around his. He looked from Anna to her mother, saying nothing, his throat tight with emotion and memories of things he’d wanted in his life before the war.

  “Thank you.”

  Twelve

  Sean led Anna to his office and tried to sort through the range of emotions beating quietly against his heart. Her fingers were small and fragile around his index finger. The top of her head barely came to his hip. Her hair was a glossy, dark brown and puffed out from the hair ties Sarah must have put in that morning.

  He couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that Jack’s daughter was there with him. That she was Sarah’s.

  Part of his heart hurt. She hadn’t wanted this with him. It was one of the first things they’d argued about and it was one of the things that had driven him away when she’d said no. And yet, here she was, a small daughter with another man. That was hell on the ego, no matter how long ago it was.

  But the other part of his heart ached with something else. Something he couldn’t identify. It was a strange emotion. A feeling of…being glad that Anna was in the world. That someone would carry a part of Jack Anders around.

  That he wasn’t gone forever. At least, not all of him.

  He opened the door to his office and flicked on the light with his free hand. “
So this is where I work,” he told Anna as she stepped into the ops office in front of him.

  “Is this where you boss soldiers around?” she asked.

  There was something completely innocent and earnest about her question, and he grinned down at her. “Yes, this is where I get to boss soldiers around.”

  “My mommy did that for a little while. But she got in trouble.” Anna looked around his office.

  “She did?”

  “Her old boss said she didn’t follow orders very well. That she wasn’t a C – N – O?”

  Sean smiled. “NCO?”

  “That,” Anna said knowingly. “Mommy is good at bossing people around.”

  Sean didn’t resist the smile then, and simply enjoyed watching her check out his space. He wondered what it looked like to little eyes. How did she see the picture frames on the wall? Or the old raggedy couch that he sometimes slept on?

  It didn’t surprise him that Sarah had trouble with making the transition from enlisted to officer. Hell, he’d been yelled at a time or two that he wasn’t an NCO anymore, too.

  “Can I draw on your board?” she asked. She was staring at his dry erase board with the next two weeks’ training plans written on it in varying states of disarray.

  It was chaos, but honestly, it was the only way he really kept track of things.

  The company main board in the ops was in no better shape.

  “Want to draw on some paper instead?” he asked.

  She shook her head, still staring at the fat dry erase markers. There was hope in her little brown eyes. And far be it from him to deny the little girl what she apparently wanted more in the whole wide world.

  He handed her the blue marker. “Go wild, kiddo.”

  He sat back and let her go to town. And wondered how he was going to remember who had been tasked for what tomorrow.

  “Whatcha drawing?”

  “This is Captain Meow,” she said soberly. “He’s in charge of all the mice.”

  “And who is this?” He pointed to a black ball.