by J. M. Madden
“Nope,” Marigold said immediately.
Shannon smiled at the two of them. Had she and John been that careful with each other? Yeah. Probably.
“Well, maybe we’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
Marigold nodded, giving her a firm look. “Yes, ma’am. I know I haven’t been here much last week. I’ll be in.”
The two of them left, Marigold holding the doors open for Logan to get on. Once they were gone, Shannon looked at her husband. They both burst out laughing.
“Whether you meant to or not, babe, I think you made a match,” John told her, rolling close.
Shannon leaned over and dropped a kiss on his lips. “I think so too,” she snorted. “Not that it took long.”
John shrugged. “I don’t think it’s a length of time, per se. It’s whether or not the person makes you feel comfortable in your own skin.”
Shannon stared at him. “That’s very...perceptive, babe. I love you.”
“I love you, too. It also helps if you’re comfortable in their skin as well.” His dark eyes glinted with humor, and she shook her head.
“You’re always trying to get in my skin,” she laughed.
“Well, it’s beautiful skin. What can I say?”
Shannon cupped his face in her palms. “I love you, you horny bastard.”
Grinning, John reached out to stroke her ass. “It’s your fault I’m horny...”
Shannon drew back, giving him a teasing look, but he could tell by the shine in her eyes that she hoped something would happen between the two younger people. She was such a damn romantic. Just one of the many things he loved about her. “You know, if you want to have another baby, I’m up for it. Maybe we can hope for a little girl this time.”
Her eyes widened in her face, and she paled a little. “Another baby?”
John frowned, curious at her reaction. “Yeah, another baby. Like you said.”
She leaned her head forward, staring at him. “I love you, babe. When did I say I wanted another baby?”
“In your email when you told me your flight had been cancelled.”
Looking confused, she turned to her computer and pulled up her email. With a few clicks of the keys, she apparently found what she was looking for. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts as she read. “Damn,” she breathed. “I was a little toasty. I don’t even remember most of this. And look at this spelling. Holy crap...Oh, there it is...”
She glanced up at him guiltily. “I love you dearly,” she said again, “but there’s no way we’re having another baby right now. At least, not until the boys are a little older. I can’t take three kids in diapers at once.”
The thought made him ill, as well, and he sagged in relief. “Holy fuck, woman. You freaked me out when you wrote that,” he laughed.
Shannon shook her head, looking pained. “Don’t worry about it, babe. It was just the drunken ramblings of your tea-totaler wife,” she laughed. “Have you been stewing about that all week? We’ll have another baby, and I agree, a little girl would be adorable, but I’m not in a rush.”
The relief that rolled through him made him feel a little guilty. If she’d wanted it, they would have worked it out, but more time would definitely be better. “I love you, Shannon.”
“I love you too, babe,” she breathed, leaning forward for his kiss. “Now get back to work.”
John huffed and threw her a salute. “Yes, ma’am!”
Spinning the chair around he sped down the hallway, making her giggle.
18
“So, how do you think it’ll go?”
Marigold’s question rang in his brain, dragging down the mood, and he didn’t know how to respond. They’d just had a long lunch at his grandmother’s restaurant where they’d laughed and joked for hours. Now, though, they were heading to the Millers, and the tension in his gut was beginning to build.
Lisa was a volatile woman, as was Miller’s sister Ashley. “Honestly, I have no idea. Trent was Lisa’s only son, so I know she took his death hard.”
Logan’s gut churned. Even if she welcomed him with open arms, he had to tell her that he was the one that had gotten Miller killed. He hadn’t meant to, of course, but the excursion had been propelled by him.
They passed a Boulder city mileage sign, and his gut tightened further. Marigold’s phone was hanging from a dock on the windshield, and the red track of the GPS path was lit. Just a few more miles.
“Thank you for bringing me out here. It sounded like Shannon could have used you in the office today.”
Marigold shrugged, her shoulder brushing his own in the narrow car. “Maybe. I think she would have told me if she did. She’s just a little bit of a control freak.”
Logan chuckled. “I think they all are, a bit.”
“Agreed,” she responded with a laugh. “Tell me about Trent.”
Logan blinked, wondering how he could encapsulate six years of friendship into a few sentences. “We’d been together since Basic. Normally you make it through and you never see the guys you graduate with, but he and I, it was like we were in lock step. We competed through most of our class, both of us blowing away the rest of our group, and both ended up being picked up by military intelligence. We were in different jobs, but still worked together almost every day. We hung out together on our days off and that old competition faded away to friendship. We realized we liked hanging out together. He was a lot better man than I was, though.”
Marigold opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand. “No, he really was. We joked about it all the time. When I came across a piece of information I wanted to check out, he didn’t feel the same, but he agreed to go just to appease my damned curiosity. It’s what got him killed,” he finished, voice tight. “Without getting into too much detail, I believed that there was a stronghold in this one, deserted location that hadn’t seen any action in months. I was proven correct when we were attacked.”
He glanced at her, his eyes narrowed in remembered pain. “Not the way I wanted to be proven correct.”
“Of course not,” she murmured, reaching a hand out to rest on his own.
Logan looked down at their hands, torn. Truly, he appreciated her support, but he didn’t deserve it. There was a certain amount of guilt he struggled under, and he didn’t think he would ever be free of it. Talking to Lisa would help.
They didn’t say anything else as they drove to the two-story cabin set in the woods. As soon as they pulled into the drive, Logan started seeing flashbacks in his mind of he and Miller playing around. There were snowmobile trails all through the area, and they had spent hours mapping them out and just playing. Military Intelligence was a brutal business and they relaxed just as hard as they worked.
Then Marigold was pulling into the circle of gravel in front of the familiar cabin and parking. She turned off the noisy diesel engine and turned to face him. “You can do this, Logan. I have faith in you.” She leaned across the seat and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’ll be right here waiting for you. Take your time, okay? I have my tablet and stuff so I won’t be bored.”
Logan stared at her for a long moment, shocked at what had just come out of her mouth. When had anyone supported him that way before? Never. “Thank you, Mari. I don’t know how long it will take.”
He gave her another kiss before turning to open the door. The hinges creaked a little as he maneuvered the crutches out first, then his legs. Gathering himself he swung away from the car, pushing the car door shut behind him with the tip of the crutch, then he headed for the steps up to the porch. He’d made this same walk several times over the years, but this time was so very different. Trent Miller wasn’t bouncing beside him, anxious to show him his family home and share his family.
Anxiety churned, nauseating him, and Logan rethought coming here. Just for a split second. Then his resolve firmed. This needed to happen.
As if in answer to his thoughts, the front door opened and Lisa Miller stepped out onto the wooden boards. She wore a thick p
atterned wool sweater, jeans, and socks on her feet, but no shoes. Her dirty blond hair hung over her shoulders, looking longer than the last time he’d seen her. It had been at least a year and a half. Christmas before last they’d come back for two weeks.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
Logan blinked and jerked to a halt, wondering if he’d heard her correctly. “I’m, I, uh, wanted to talk to you about Trent.”
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say, Logan,” she said firmly, her face flushing. “I need you to leave.”
Shocked, he kind of stood there, searching his mind for options. This had been one of those possibilities, but it had been low on his list. “I just wanted to...”
“I don’t care what the fuck you wanted,” she yelled, stomping to the edge of the porch. “Did you actually think I’d welcome you here? After you killed my son?”
Logan swayed at the verbal attack. It was unexpected, but probably justified, so he would take it. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” he told her honestly.
“But you did. You got one of your hunches and you had to go check it out. He had just a couple of months left to go before he got out, same as you, but you got him killed. Trent called me on Messenger just before you left and told me what a wild goose chase he thought it was.”
Logan fought back the words to defend himself. It hadn’t been a wild goose chase. They’d literally been attacked in the place that he’d assumed insurgents were hiding out. Logan didn’t say that though. A mother deserved to be angry that her son had been killed, and he wouldn’t take that from her.
“I’m sorry,” he told her, his voice and heart sincere. “He was my best friend. You know that. I never would have gone on that op if I knew it was going to get them killed.”
Lisa shook her head, tears beginning to roll down her lean, ruddy cheeks. “My baby is gone. Just wiped off the earth like he was never here. The government says they can’t give me any more answers. Won’t, I’m sure. They have to protect their precious secrets.”
Logan forced himself to step forward. “What do you want to know? I’ll tell you anything, as long as it doesn’t endanger current servicemen.”
Lisa gaped at him. “How can I trust anything you say?”
That struck Logan hard, because he’d never been anything but honest with her. Even when it had been uncomfortable. She knew every sordid detail about his family, because he’d been comfortable with her. All of the guilt for leaving Jana and Clint behind, she knew about, and she’d consoled him about, more than his own mother ever would have.
That’s what hurt the most. Lisa Miller had been damned near a mother to him, and he’d let her down. “I’m sorry,” he said again, his throat tight, not sure what else to do.
“Stop saying that,” she screamed.
Behind him, he heard the door of the Beetle open. He had a feeling Marigold had stepped out to check on the situation and make sure he was okay.
“You show up here expecting some kind of validation for what you did,” Lisa continued, tears streaming down her cheeks, “some kind of absolution. Well, I’m not going to give it to you. You got my son killed. And now you show up looking completely fine, and with a woman to boot. Something my son will never be able to experience. Did you show up here thinking I would welcome you with open arms? In place of my son? Get off my property, Logan. I don’t want to ever see you again.”
The woman turned and left the porch, the front door slamming behind her. Logan looked down, searching for bullet holes or something, because it felt like he was bleeding from the inside. There was nothing there, though, of course.
Very slowly he pivoted on one crutch and turned toward the car, walking slowly back to it. He avoided Marigold’s eyes, knowing that she would see too much.
“Logan!” a voice cried.
He turned just in time to catch Ashley in his arms. She was sobbing as well, but she burrowed into his chest, muffling the sound. When she didn’t feel like she was going to push him away, he wrapped his arms around the girl’s shoulders as they shook. It took several long minutes for her to draw back and look at him, her face streaked with tears.
“Don’t listen to her. She’s been worried about you, too. We knew you were alive, but didn’t know where you were or anything.”
“I should have contacted you sooner, but I was in the hospital up until a few months ago.”
Stepping back, Ashley looked down his body, lingering on the crutches. “We figured that out, eventually. Mom called in a favor with the Army and she got hold of your mom, I guess.”
“Oh, hell,” Logan sighed.
“She said the woman was useless and no wonder you’d always come home with Trent,” the girl reported, with the tact of a teenager. “But she did get that you’d been in the hospital, but your mother didn’t know where you’d went when you were released.”
Logan snorted. “I lived across the county from them.”
Ashley gaped. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “I always planned to come out here, though. I just had some things to do before I could.”
All truth. It just wasn’t what she wanted to hear, he was sure.
Ashley glanced at Marigold and gave her a slight smile, before she turned back to Logan. “I think Mom will come around, but it will be a while. Can I have your number?”
Nodding, he gave her his number while she entered the digits into her phone. She tapped off a quick text. “Now you have mine, too.”
Logan nodded. “I’m sorry, Ashley. Your mom didn’t want to hear it, but I’ll tell you. If there was anything at all I could do to bring him back, I would. I swear that to you. And if I could have known what was going to happen that day, we never would have gone out.”
Tears were rolling down her cheeks again and she bit her lip, nodding, her arms crossed over her belly. “I know, Logan. I know.”
With a final look, she turned and ran back up onto the porch and into the house.
Logan sighed, seriously hoping that Ashley would be an ally. He glanced at Marigold, waiting so patiently. “I’m ready.”
They didn’t say anything as they headed out of Boulder, and he appreciated that. It gave him some time to collect his thoughts.
For some reason, he’d expected Lisa’s anger, but she’d always been a practical person. She’d been former military. Logan hadn’t expected the irrationality and the loss of control that left her screaming. Looking back, he wasn’t sure what he should have done sooner. Maybe come to her first? Showing up so many months after the incident had to seem disrespectful to their relationship. He could see that now.
There had been glimmers of truth in what she’d said, though. It was his fault that Miller was dead. There was no escaping that detail. Why did he deserve to live after Miller had died?
“You’ve gotten very quiet over there,” Marigold said softly.
Logan watched her shift gears as they slid through traffic. It was seamless, the way she moved, and he remember the feel of a manual transmission. There was a lot of leg work involved, and he doubted he would ever be able to drive one again, just because he wouldn’t have the muscle control. He could admire the grace it took to drive smoothly, though.
Logan looked at Marigold’s profile. Her black-framed glasses were parked firmly on her nose, and he could see the reflection of the car’s headlights coming toward them in the lenses. Her hair was back in a low ponytail, but it lay over her shoulder to the front. He wanted to see it spread out across the pillow again as he slid into her.
Why did he get to have a relationship, though? Why did he get to go on with his life?
They pulled up to a red light and Marigold reached for her phone. That kind of surprised him. She was very cautious about when she used her cell. It looked like she tapped out a message and sent it. Just a few seconds later, the screen lit up with a response. “Everything okay?”
She nodded, not saying anything. Logan watched the dark scenery pass by, content to be silent.
Night had arrived and he hadn’t even noticed. They’d left LNF hours ago. They drove through a more crowded suburban area with shopping malls and restaurants, then back into the darker night.
A few minutes later, though, they pulled into what appeared to be a nice subdivision. The houses were built very similar, but owners had tried to individualize them with landscaping and different paint themes. He had no idea where they were, though, when she pulled into a driveway. Until he spotted the black truck.
“Is this John’s house?”
“John and Shannon’s, yes. Come on.”
There was a wooden handicapped ramp on the front of the pretty house, and he didn’t know what to think about that. John Palmer seemed stronger than to even admit to needing one of those. “Why are we here, Marigold?”
“Because you need to talk to John about things I can’t help you with,” she said simply, before turning off the car and heading up the ramp.
Gritting his teeth, Logan climbed out of the car as well, legs aching, soul aching. John had more experience with this stuff, so maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to talk to him.
Petite Shannon answered the door with a little boy on her hip. She grinned at them and stepped back. “Enter at your own risk,” she told them, laughing. “This is Caden.”
Marigold laughed as she crossed the threshold and Logan stepped in behind her. The Palmers had a beautiful house inside with all hardwood floors, probably easier for John’s wheels, though it was cluttered with brightly colored toddler toys at the moment. There was a toddler in a car thing on the floor. Shannon motioned to him. “And that’s Wyatt.”
The two boys looked very similar with dark hair and pale eyes, but the one in the go-cart thing was definitely bigger. He was probably a lot for Shannon to handle, considering her size. Marigold had knelt down on the floor and was talking to the little man. “Aren’t you a bruiser?” she said, wiggling his hand.
Wyatt grinned at her and pounded the tray of the conveyance.
“What is that thing he’s in?” Logan asked Shannon.
“That’s a walker. Wyatt doesn’t really need it, he’s pretty steady on his feet, but it does help slow him down a little, and keep him corralled,” she laughed. “That’s more for my sake.”