“I miss you. I miss you so much, you have no idea. I’m still driving your truck, but don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten I promised you to give it up.”
He remembered the truck. Or rather he remembered the one Timber bought when they were out of basic training. It was a rusty red and sounded like it was constantly broken, but he’d loved it. They’d spent many nights on the back of it, drinking beer and reminiscing about how their lives would turn out.
Micah knew Elton had family back here in Ashburn, but during those first years he’d been home rather seldom, wanting to live the life, hang out with comrades and go to clubs. He knew they’d talked often, and he’d seen pictures of them, but most had been old. As in, he couldn’t have been more than twelve on them, his siblings even smaller, and all had the same haircut. To this day Micah had no idea if he had three brothers, or brothers and sisters instead.
Maybe he should’ve asked, but since his own family had been so disastrously broken, he never had bothered listening to his comrades talking about Christmases and Thanksgiving.
In fact, when it came to their non-army life he’d pretty much shut them out. For those first years he’d hardly spoken to his own family left, so why should he have cared about other people’s families?
Deciding to give the girl her space, he stepped back, his eyes on her profile, and as if she’d seen the movement from the corner of her eye, she jumped up, taking on a defensive stance that more looked like a weird dancing position than anything keeping her safe.
Her blue eyes narrowed before widening and she relaxed. Micah took less than ten seconds to take her in.
The jacket had Timber’s name still on it and reached down to the middle of her thighs. She wore skinny jeans and black, high-heeled boots, making him think without them she would maybe come up to his shoulder, if at all.
“Lieutenant McCain… Micah…” She shook her head as if recognizing him, and Micah blinked.
Shaking her head, she came forward, holding out her hand. “I’m sorry and so impolite. I’m Sarah Timber. I didn’t think you’d be… you’d…” She thought for a second, a blush creeping along her cheeks. “I just didn’t think you’d look like you do. I mean, of course, but… I’m babbling.”
He smirked, not being able to help himself. “First Lieutenant Micah McCain, at your service.” He touched his hat the way he’d learned it and then still smiled at her while her eyes roamed his body in a curious and not at all insulting way.
She shook her head. “I didn’t think you’d be that tall. Naturally I know everything about you, but also know you know nothing about us, so…” Shrugging, she drowned her hands in the pockets of the jacket and then turned to the grave. “He’s so different than you always made us believe,” she hissed toward the headstone and he lowered his eyes.
Where he hadn’t listened to him talk about home, home seemed to have listened to Timber talking about him, and damn if that didn’t release a fresh wave of guilt.
***
Sarah stared at her brother’s friend and couldn’t reconcile him with the guy Elton had always spoken about.
The way it had sounded he’d been as outgoing and fun as Elton always was, but the man in front of her looked serious, life-worn and weathered. She knew the two hadn’t seen each other in two years or so, but still…
Then again, a lot could happen in two years. She knew that better than anyone.
“I’m sorry, but Timber… I mean Elton never—”
She smiled softly. “Timber is fine. He’d been called by his last name since he was what? Ten?” She winked at him and then cleared her throat. “I’m going to gather my stuff and let you have your moment, okay?”
She bent to retrieve her blankets, folding them and holding them close to her body as she eyed Micah McCain again. He was tall, about a head and a half taller than she, shoulders wide, his back straight. He had blond hair that was a little longer at the top and shorter at the sides, and his eyes were green, shimmering like freshly mowed grass until he shifted and the sun no longer hit his face. Then they seemed to be almost forest green.
“He was an amazing person,” he announced and she nodded briefly, then smiled at the headstone.
She’d picked up talking to him because with him being the oldest and she being the youngest sibling, they’d always had a special bond.
Sarah had no intention letting that lessen because he no longer walked this Earth.
Making her way through the headstones, she was surprised to find her truck still to be the only one in the parking lot. It made her curious as to how Lieutenant McCain had gotten there.
It took less than ten minutes for him to leave the cemetery, his head lowered, his steps hurried, as if he couldn’t get away fast enough.
She had waited for him because there were some things she needed to talk to him about, but now she hurried after him.
“Lieutenant McCain, please, wait.” He stopped and glanced up, his eyes bright as if he was biting back tears.
“It’s two miles back into town. How did you get here?”
His eyes swept the length of the road as if he saw it for the first time. “I walked. It was nice moving my feet. I’ve been on planes for the better part of two days,” he explained and she realized he’d just come home from war and his first stop had been to her brother’s grave.
“Let me drive you. I’m sure you remember the beast?” She pointed over her shoulder at the truck and his eyes went over her head, the smallest of smiles playing over his lips.
“Good memories,” he muttered and she nodded at the truck again.
“We have some things to talk about anyway,” she then added and it was what seemed to be the deciding argument for him.
Together they made their way back, and she held out the keys. “Wanna drive it, Lieutenant McCain?”
“It’s Micah,” he said absentmindedly and then took the keys from her, his hand warm and calloused.
“Micah.” She smiled and he paused for a second, his eyes lingering on her face until she all but blushed, and his gaze dropped.
“I’m sorry for the loss of your husband,” he whispered and she instantly shook her head.
“Elton was my brother. His wife’s name is Cathy, and she moved away with the kids three months ago. Said she couldn’t handle the memories, the pain, our family without him. It wasn’t pretty and my parents were devastated, but if things work out, we’ll still be seeing my nephews, I hope.”
She tried to hide the pain in her voice, but when he reached out and squeezed her shoulder, she realized she’d probably done a bad job.
Getting into the car, she gave him a moment, and then arched a brow when he still didn’t start the truck.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Micah,” she eventually offered and he met her eyes, his full of pain and emotions she couldn’t place.
They’d been friends, close friends, probably closer than Micah had realized so far, and still seeing him the way he sat next to her that moment, she shifted until she was on the seat and could wrap her arms around him. She felt Micah reach around her shoulder, as if he was trying to wipe away tears while squeezing her tightly, and wished she could do something.
For her, Elton’s death had been harsh reality for half a year now.
It seemed Micah hadn’t realized the truth of it until that moment. He didn’t let go, and neither did she, thinking she could give him all the comfort he needed.
And that seemed to be a lot.
***
Micah couldn’t let go of Timber’s little sister because he worried he’d fully fall apart then. He didn’t even know what had caused the onslaught of emotion the moment he’d sat behind the wheel because he was trained in compartmentalizing and usually did well, but that day it seemed impossible.
She smelled of roses and vanilla and faintly of cookies and coffee, and it was a scent he found comforting and confusing all at the same time.
“I’m sorry, soldier,” she whispered, her lips brushing th
e outer shell of his ear as she spoke and it was what made him realize how damn close he was holding her.
Easing his grip on her, she pulled back the moment he had let go. Her face was full of compassion as he bit his lip. She reached out and brushed a tear from his cheek, making him feel as if he was five years old.
He cleared his throat, moving his hat on his head, then finally started the truck. “Okay, where to?”
She watched him from the side, her eyes kind, and he forced himself to look away because this was Timber’s little sister and he needed to stay away from thoughts like how sweet she was and how well she’d fit into his arms—despite being so small.
“Back roads maybe? This truck has seen a lot of wild rides. Are you up for it, soldier?” She buckled up and he grinned, liking the idea.
“Our first year at base Timber would always take me out to the forests. He loved the mud and the dirt,” he recalled and she nodded.
“Dad used to get so pissed when El borrowed his truck after he turned sixteen and went through the backwoods with me. Okay, go straight and then the first turn into the forest is the one you can take.”
He arched a brow at her. “Sure we won’t get lost?”
There was a sparkle in her eye. “My brother taught me well, you’ll see.”
He didn’t have the slightest doubt and yet knew he wouldn’t go as wild as Elton was known to, because his friend would never forgive him if his little sister was hurt in anyway, and Micah could all but see Timber haunting him from his grave.
That thought almost made him smile.
Chapter 2
Sarah turned on the porch, wondering if maybe she should’ve given Micah the time to get over seeing his friend’s grave first, but she worried he wouldn’t come back then.
He rubbed his hands along his pants before standing straighter, the army green reminding her of her brother so much, she felt the need to scream and cry. Micah surprised her by opening his arms for her.
“Hey, come on. Had I known I’d be seeing anyone, I’d have changed into normal clothes,” he whispered as she went into the arms he held open for her.
God, she was really small compared to him she realized as her head didn’t even reach his chin. Instead she heard his heart race under her ear.
They’d spent two hours in the forest and the truck until she’d had the feeling he was more relaxed, and then she’d asked him to come and meet her parents because everyone had heard so much about him, it was as if they knew him.
Micah had admitted to having planned on offering her parents his condolences anyway, so convincing him had been somewhat easy.
Stepping back, she took his hand, drawing him up to the porch, but she felt as if she was tugging on a mountain.
“It’ll be okay,” she promised when the door opened and her mother came out. Sarah dropped his hand as he saluted.
“First Lieutenant Micah McCain. Ma’am, I came to offer you my condolences. I am sorry I am late, but I just now returned from Iraq.”
“He came straight to Ashburn,” Sarah explained, her eyes on her mother.
“We know who you are, soldier. Come on in, we are about to have dinner and everyone will be delighted to have you here,” she announced and then turned in the door.
Micah looked honestly frightened.
Sarah stepped up to him, tilting her head back until he met her eyes. “You are going to war zones all over the world regularly, and yet you’re afraid to step into a house with people who’ll welcome you like a friend?” she asked and he sighed.
“It’s different. I suddenly feel ignorant because I never wanted to hear his family stories. I don’t know anything about you. I couldn’t even have said if he had brothers or sisters or both,” he admitted and she turned on the second step leading up to the porch.
She knew his story, knew more about him than he was probably aware, and her heart went out to him.
“We’ve heard about your loss, soldier.” It was one of the reasons why her brother had put in his will what he had, but Sarah wasn’t sure Micah was ready for that yet.
“Sarah…” It was the first time he’d said her name and something inside of her clicked, as if she’d waited a lifetime to hear that one word spoken the way he had.
Lowering her eyes, she wondered if maybe she should drive him back into town after all.
The Timber-Farm was a little outside of Ashburn, contrary direction of the cemetery, and she knew he had a room at a small B&B in town for the night.
She didn’t know what he’d planned for the day after, but when they’d talked earlier—or rather with what little he’d offered—she guessed he didn’t know where he wanted to go and what he wanted to do.
At thirty-two the soldier before her was lost, drifting in a sea of loneliness, and it had taken her less than two hours to see it.
Shaking her head, she turned away from him, feeling his hand on her arm, his warmth burning through her jacket.
“Sarah,” he repeated, this time imploring. She turned to him, both of them the same height now, and held his eyes.
“What is it, Micah? Are you scared you could actually enjoy being here? Or worried it could suck donkey balls?”
It used to be Elton’s favorite expression and she saw Micah smirk.
“I don’t belong here.”
She placed her hand on his chest. “You belonged here after basic training. You weren’t just a brother-in-arms to Elton, Micah. You were his brother. He loved you like one. He talked about you like he would about a brother. All we’re missing are your half naked baby pictures. Come inside. Give us a chance to welcome you into the family the way Elton wished he could’ve done.” She bit her tongue to not say more and Micah gritted his teeth, his jaw moving, until finally nodding.
“Stay by my side. I hold you personally responsible if this turns into a disaster.” His expression was serious, but his tone held a hint of amusement.
“Then don’t mess up.” And with that she vanished inside the house, knowing he’d follow, and hoping he’d feel comfortable with them all at some point.
***
“It was you with the bikini, wasn’t it?” Micah couldn’t help the laugh bursting from his lips, staring at Timber’s oldest sister. Tara was taller than Sarah, her eyes blue, her hair dark wavy in contrary to her sister’s. Timber’s had always been so short, Micah didn’t know it if was curly or straight.
“I cannot believe he told you about that,” he exclaimed, but really, it was obvious Timber had told his family everything.
Sarah sat to his right, quieter than he’d anticipated while her family watched him.
Joe and Margie Timber, Timber’s parents, were the kind you always saw on TV: friendly, welcoming, warm, and full of love for their children. Timber’s middle sister, Jenny, was missing from the family dinner, but he’d been assured it was for good reasons.
It sounded as if this family hardly ever ate separated.
“Why would you run around base in a bikini?” Tara asked and he shifted in his chair.
“I lost a bet, and I’m a man of my word.”
Sarah cleared her throat next to me. “Timber would’ve let you get away without doing it,” she stated and met his eyes. There was something in her gaze he couldn’t place, then she stood and excused herself.
Silence fell over the room as she exited it and Micah followed her with his eyes until she had vanished from his view.
“She was the youngest, and Elton the oldest. He adored her, protected her, hung out with her. Losing him has been harder on her than on anyone else, and we don’t even need to pretend otherwise,” Margie explained and Micah shrugged.
“I can see why he would feel that way about her.” If she’d be his sister, he’d go all protective over her, too. She was sunshine in a small package, but the way she’d looked just before leaving made him wish he could do something to ease the pain.
However, they had talked about Timber the whole time in the car. He didn’t understand why
this was any different.
“I should get going,” he eventually muttered. He’d still have to walk a few miles unless he found someone ready to drive him.
“We didn’t have dessert yet,” Tara protested and Micah laughed. He shouldn’t be surprised, and yet he couldn’t have another bite. There’d been a roast he’d had three helpings of, along with mashed potatoes and veggies, and it was probably the best meal he’d ever had.
“Thank you, but I feel like a turkey on Thanksgiving.” He got to his feet and so did the rest of the family. “I’m going to head out.”
And he planned on finding Sarah first. “I’ll just go and say goodbye.” The three other Timbers nodded while he went in search of the youngest family member, surprised no one had offered him directions, yet when he’d made his ways up the stairs he found a long hallway and one door half open, Timber’s favorite band playing, and he knew where to go.
He knocked, finding Sarah by a window. She turned to him while he ignored the room that clearly had been Timber’s for all his life. With a passing glance he’d seen discarded shoes and teenager’s posters, faded and out-dated.
“I’m… I should go.”
Sarah seemed small and breakable as she smiled at him through a curtain of tears, wiping at her cheeks. Something squeezed inside of him and he almost pressed his hand onto his chest to check if he was still complete.
“Yeah. Listen… come to dinner tomorrow. We’re having barbecue and you aren’t in a hurry.”
He hadn’t said it like that, but feared she’d deducted that—correctly—from his confession about not knowing where best to go.
The thing was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to stay.
“Sarah,” he whispered and she closed her eyes, then forced another smile, nodding toward the door.
“I’m gonna bring you downstairs, okay?”
He hesitated for a moment, wondering if there was something he should say, but then just nodded and stepped aside, this time letting her lead the way.
Help Our Heroes: A Military Charity Anthology Page 54