The Colonels' Texas Promise

by Caro Carson

  There was that hole again.

  “Dad said it was time to...to man up.”

  Man up. Matthew even said it with that derogatory inflection that means one guy thinks the other guy isn’t man enough. When had Rob said such a stupid thing to his own son?

  Evan demonstrated how to bait the hook. “You stick the hook right in the middle of the ball. Mash it some more, so it doesn’t fall off the hook as soon as it hits the water.”

  Matthew did it, imitating Evan with hands that were half his size. He was still a child, so his hands were a little clumsy as they attempted a new task.

  Man up. Rob hadn’t contacted Matthew in three years, so that conversation had to have been at least three years ago. Matthew could have been no more than eight. His fingers had to have been even smaller then, even less coordinated. Rob had told a child that he needed to stop being a child.

  Evan could think of no appropriate response, so cast his line, a sharp throw, a flick of the wrist. “Like this.”

  Matthew did a fair job imitating him. Evan wound up some slack, and then he waited. Waited for Matthew to say more. Waited for the right words to come to him. Did anybody know the right words to say to a child whose father had told him his childhood was over?

  “Dad said there has to be a man in the house, and since he was leaving and didn’t know when he was coming back, I was it.”

  Since he was leaving. This was how Rob had left Matthew? His parting words had been to order an eight-year-old boy to pick up the slack for him.

  Rob wasn’t here. If Evan let himself get upset, Matthew would mistakenly think he was upset with him. Evan wound his reel once, calmly.

  “I can’t keep doing baby things, because he said Mom needs a man in her life.”

  “Well, she has one now, doesn’t she?”

  Matthew went absolutely still beside him.

  Evan reeled in his line slowly. “I’m thirty-seven years old. That makes me a grown man. Your mom is a pretty kick-butt kind of woman, but if she needs a man for anything, I’ve got it.” It’s not your burden to bear, little guy. Let me carry it.

  He glanced at Matthew out of the corner of his eye. That earnest face was scrunched up in concentration as he stared at Evan, not the water.

  Evan checked the bait on his hook unnecessarily. “Here’s the thing. I didn’t get to be thirty-seven without being eleven first. There’s stuff you have to handle at every age. You don’t have to handle the grown-man stuff anymore, because I’m here, but you do have to focus on being eleven. There’s a ton of schoolwork to handle. Math, English, history—”

  “Earth science.”

  “Earth science. You’ve got a commitment to a baseball team. I’m going to ask you to help me take out the trash every Tuesday. Plus, you have to get to know people at your new school and the other kids who live in our neighborhood. Figure out who is a friend. Figure out who is not.”

  “And I have to load and unload the dishwasher.”

  Evan squinted at the reflection of the sunset’s colors on the water. He nodded in what he hoped was a sage manner. “There you go. You handle all the things you’re supposed to handle as a sixth grader, and I’ll handle all the things expected of thirty-seven-year-old men. Deal?”

  Matthew thought it over, smart kid that he was. Looking for loopholes, probably. Trying to figure out if there was a catch. After a small eternity, he turned away from Evan to squint at the water, too. “Deal.”

  If Evan grinned a little bit, it was only bittersweet. Man up. This kid shouldn’t have had such an oversize expectation, such an impossibly adult burden, put on him in the first place.

  “I still don’t want you to marry my mom, you know.”

  “I know.” Evan flicked his wrist and sent the line flying over the water. Satisfied with the red bobber’s place in the water, he leaned back on the railing and turned toward Matthew, giving him his full attention.

  Matthew glared with all his eleven-year-old fury at the water, but he was undoubtedly nervous about what Evan might say next. Matthew’s statement hadn’t been polite, but it took a kind of bravery to tell a thirty-seven-year-old man that his mom was off-limits. He was Juliet’s son in every way.

  Yet another emotion caught Evan by surprise. Tenderness was probably the best word for it. Affection. A desire to help this child navigate his own bubbling cauldron of emotions.

  Evan let the tenderness settle into place as he studied Matthew’s profile. He looked so much like Juliet, not just in the color of his eyes or the shape of his chin, but in the way that chin was being held at a bit of a stubborn angle, looking determined. Or, perhaps, that chin was simply braced for life to throw another punch at it. Evan wanted to fix that.

  “I’ll tell you why I’m marrying your mom.” He took a moment to put it in terms for a boy to understand. “I’ve known your mom for a long, long time. She was one of my best friends in college. I missed her a lot when the army sent us to different posts after graduation. I missed her so much, I didn’t want to think about it. Now she’s moved here, and she wants to marry me.”

  Probably for the wrong reasons. Probably to help raise her son, although, watching Matthew and his fishing pole right now, it felt like a good reason.

  “If she wants to marry me, then I’m definitely going to marry her. We’ll get to live together that way, and I won’t have to miss her anymore, for the rest of our lives.”

  Matthew was silent for another small eternity. Evan marked the time with short flicks of his wrist, making the end of his pole swish like an orchestra conductor’s baton. The bobber bounced on the surface of the water.

  Matthew swished his pole. “I don’t get to decide anything. It’s all grown-ups doing what they want to do.”

  “True. Eleven-year-olds aren’t supposed to decide marriages. I think your mom is deciding to do what will make her the happiest. That’s her call to make, not yours. If she’s happy, though, it will make you a little bit happier, too, don’t you think?”

  That might have been too complicated. Matthew’s brow was furrowed in deep concentration.

  The golden sunset had ended, leaving only the gray light before dark fell. It was going to get cold, fast.

  “Looks like it’s time to go in.” Evan started winding in his line. “I do have a question for you, though. Even if you’re not very excited about this wedding, would you stand up with us at the courthouse on Friday?”

  “I have to go. Mom said so.”

  “Right. But I’m asking you to stand up with us. The bride and groom usually have friends or family standing next to them when they take their vows. Bridesmaids and groomsmen, right?”

  Matthew nodded.

  “We’re keeping it low-key, just us in front of the judge. There are benches in the courtroom where you can sit, but it would be nice to have someone stand up with us. You’re the most important person in your mom’s life, so it would mean the most if that person was you. I’ll be in my service uniform, so you would have to wear a tie. It’ll be a lot like a promotion ceremony.”

  “I stood next to my mom for her promotion ceremony. I did one of the shoulder boards.”

  “She told me. She was bragging about you.” Evan caught the hook with his hand. “Hold it like this. You just take the bait off and throw it in the water. Let the fish have it. They outsmarted us today.”

  Matthew threw the soggy bread in the water. “Okay. I’ll stand up with you guys.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Evan showed Matthew how to secure his hook to his rod and reel, and then they both stood and started walking off the dock.

  “That’s it?” Matthew asked. “We’re done fishing?”

  “That’s it.”

  “We didn’t catch anything.”

  “That’s how fishing goes a lot of the time.”

  “Nothing happened.”

 
Evan gave him a pat on his shoulder, one guy to another. “Yep. Nothing happened.”

  * * *

  This is not a rehearsal dinner.

  Juliet looked around the lakeside restaurant. The water looked black in the night outside the windows, but inside, the space was warm with candlelight. A single long-stemmed rose had been waiting for her at her place setting, tied with a white bow, surrounded with white baby’s breath.

  Thoughtful—but not a bride’s bouquet, because they were just going to the courthouse tomorrow. She and an old friend were going to formalize an old pact and move in together. There was nothing to rehearse.

  She touched the petals lightly. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Evan looked sinfully handsome in the candlelight. No groom had ever looked more masculine, more capable of keeping a bride safe and secure. If she looked into his eyes too long, thoughts of hearts and flowers and white lace distracted her from the reality of their arrangement. It was one-sided, and all in her favor, but she’d given Evan so many chances to back out, and he hadn’t.

  The reality was that this arrangement would make them a party of three, not two. Even if tonight was just the two of them at a romantic restaurant, the third person was on her mind. “Matthew hasn’t stomped around since you went fishing yesterday. He asked me where his tie was, because he needs to wear it tomorrow. You’re a miracle worker.”

  “Your definition of a miracle is a little off.”

  “You found a babysitter for this evening.”

  “That’s not a miracle, either.”

  “How many times have you tried to book a babysitter on short notice? It’s a miracle.” She made a face at him. “Or beginner’s luck.”

  “General Snow’s daughter lives right across the street. She’s happy to come over and get paid for playing video games with Matthew.”

  “Your quarters are really in the ideal location, then.” She laughed.

  He didn’t. “Something’s worrying you.”

  Evan reached across the small table and set his hand on top of hers, stilling it. She looked down to see that she’d picked the tiny white flowers off the baby’s breath. They were scattered over her place setting, leaving the needle-thin stems denuded.

  She hadn’t even realized she was doing it. “I’ve ruined it.”

  “Don’t worry about tomorrow. I’m not going to let you down. I’m going to be at that courthouse, all dressed up in my service uniform. It’s possible you won’t show. But I will.”

  “I know.” She did know. She’d looked into a man’s eyes and been lied to, but she looked into Evan’s eyes, and she believed him. “I’m not afraid you’ll stand me up. I won’t stand you up, either. Friends don’t do that to friends.”

  He squeezed her hand and let go. “Glad to hear it. You’re being a little skittish. It’s got me concerned.”

  “Skittish?” She felt a little pique of indignation. Nobody described Colonel Grayson as skittish. Matthew’s divorced-but-successful mother was not skittish.

  Evan made a point of looking at her flower-strewn place setting. “Skittish.”

  She couldn’t argue the point.

  “If you’re sure about the wedding, then are you nervous about after the wedding? This is your last night at the Holiday Inn.”

  “We already talked about that.” Tomorrow night, they would sleep together, for reasons that had nothing to do with their party of three. They were going to sleep together because they’d always wondered how good it would feel. Evan had said so on the patio.

  He’d been right, of course. She’d wondered about it, and she was wondering about it right now, every time she looked at him. His dress shirt was unbuttoned at the throat. Tomorrow night, she’d unbutton it all the way, taking her time, tasting the skin she exposed. She’d dreamed about that often enough.

  She could go crazy physically; she only had to keep her emotions under control. She couldn’t let all those orgasmic endorphins fool her into thinking they were in love.

  Love never even came up in their conversations, which was for the best. They were getting married because they were friends. He thought she’d make a good wife. She thought he’d make a good husband. They’d had sixteen years to think about it, as he’d pointed out, so why not marry each other? They’d have a good relationship. It was enough.

  It had to be enough, because Evan didn’t love her. If this marriage had been about romance, he would have told her. There would have been hearts and promises and flowers.

  She toyed with the baby’s breath some more. Flowers—he’d just given her flowers, hadn’t he?

  The waiter moved her flower and set down a glass of champagne. The discussion of the appetizers, the chef’s special, the wine list were all a relief to Juliet. She studied her menu in silence when the waiter left.

  Evan closed his casually. “I’m getting the filet. Were you this nervous the night before you married Rob?”

  She cleared her throat. “Nice try, slipping that question in there to catch me off guard. I don’t think that question is considered good etiquette. When it’s a second marriage, I think everyone pretends the first one didn’t exist.”

  “My bride is nervous as hell. I want to know if she’s as scared to marry me as she was to marry Rob.”

  “I wasn’t scared to marry Rob.”

  Evan was silent.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’ve hurt you.”

  “You’ve shocked me. You weren’t nervous about marrying Rob?”

  The disbelief in his voice echoed her own feelings when she looked back. Why hadn’t she been nervous? Why hadn’t she seen the signs that she was taking a big risk by marrying Rob Jones?

  “I should have been, but that’s in hindsight. I’ve told you so many terrible things about Rob, you must wonder why I married him in the first place. Why didn’t I see the red flags?” She folded her hands in her lap and looked out the window at the blackness. “I’ll never understand it. You knew me then, Evan. Wasn’t I the kind of person who would have seen any red flags?”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself. You were young. Twenty-four. He was good-looking.”

  “Hormones?” She laughed a little at the idea that it had boiled down to that. “I wasn’t that young. Something about him reminded me of you, though. Probably the baseball thing. Maybe that made me too comfortable when we first ran into each other.”

  “How did you meet?”

  “I recognized him from Masterson. He was on your team, so we must have run into each other at college. It wasn’t really our first meeting.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I was at a bookstore in the town outside Fort Huachuca. Looked up and there he was, browsing in the same aisle, a total coincidence. He looked familiar—the baseball thing again.”

  “I was not his friend on the team. I wish you had remembered that.” Evan sounded angry.

  She looked at him sharply. He’d told her she was being too hard on herself, and now he was telling her what she’d done wrong.

  “As a matter of fact, I did remember that. So did he. He was embarrassed about the way he’d goofed off in college. He regretted letting his teammates down. He even told me about showing up to a game drunk and how you guys gave him the butt-chewing he deserved. It impressed me that he had this self-awareness. He was getting his life together. He’d been to a wedding of someone on your team, and it had made him realize what mattered in life. Love. Family.”

  Evan just stared at her, shaking his head.

  “I know.” She felt the need to defend herself. “I was skeptical, too. He’d come to Huachuca as a programmer for a defense contractor. It was a short-term project. When it ended, he decided to join the army, too. He wanted to be part of something bigger than himself. I admired the way he was taking concrete steps to turn his life around, but I
wasn’t a total sucker. I wanted to know he had the ability to stick with something when times got tough. I waited until he finished basic training before...ah, before really letting myself fall for him.”

  Which meant before she’d had sex with him. Evan didn’t need to know that much.

  “That was very smart of you.”

  “Don’t be too proud of me. I still married the guy. He must have spent a lot of money just flying back to see me on weekends while he was away at his advanced training course, but he said I was the kind of girl you marry, and he didn’t want to lose me. Then one day, he showed up on my doorstep with a dozen roses in his hand and a puppy, this adorable little beagle puppy under his arm—What? Are you okay?”

  Evan had put his elbow on the table and dropped his head into his hand.

  “I shouldn’t tell you this story. I have a hard time forgiving myself. I feel like a fool. But honestly, every time I go back over it, I still can’t see the red flags. He carried through on his military commitment. He never even glanced at another woman when he was with me. He loved his dog. He spent his money and all his free time to fly in to see me. What did I miss?”

  Evan raised his head and reached across the table to hold both her hands. “You didn’t miss anything.”

  “I wanted to be married and have a baby, and here came this guy who said he wanted the same things. I must not have wanted to see anything else.”

  “You were only going after what you wanted, which is a very Juliet thing to do. You swung for the fences. With all your heart and soul, you swung for the fences.”

  “I struck out. Game over.”

  He gripped her hands more tightly. “Yes, that game is over. It’s a new game now. Fresh uniform, fresh season. You’re up to bat again, and you’re a better player now, more experienced. Swing for the fences again.”

  She was sitting here, leaning into Evan, spilling her heart out, holding his hands, soaking up every bit of sympathy and approval he dished out, and he said swing for the fences again?

  He might as well have dumped a bucket of ice water on her. Did he not understand that the fence, the ultimate goal, was true love, romantic love, the kind from fairy tales? The kind that made people do stupid things and ruin their lives?