A Soldier’s Family (11 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Wyatt

BOOK: A Soldier’s Family
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When the officers asked if he wanted to press charges, Manny looked briefly at Celia. “I’ll talk it over with his mother and get back with you.” Disdain coated his words.

The police left to help search for Javier, and Celia lowered herself to the steps. Manny towered over her. Or it seemed so until she looked up and saw something other than rage in his face. What, she couldn’t be sure. Pity? How she’d hate that. As if sensing her unease, he raised up, putting space between them. The hover of silence unnerved her.

She chanced a peek at him. “What are you going to do?” It came out like a croak.

“Depends on you.” His stance softened, but deep hurt still abided in his eyes.

How she wished she could rewind time and snatch back her earlier words. Story of her life. It was clear he beat himself up enough over his son’s death without having someone rub his nose in it.

She fought to keep her voice from quavering. “Obviously you have some idea of how this should go.” She licked her lips, dry from anxiety of how she was going to pay for the fence and that scooter. She knew that brand ran several thousand dollars, and couldn’t afford her insurance premiums to go up.

“I want you to agree to let him work for me and Joel to pay it off. Promise me you won’t bail him out. Not even a dime. In turn, we won’t press charges for damages.”

“Okay.” What choice did she have? Manny was being more than fair. She doubted the officers would make a permanent stain on Javier’s record, either. They’d scare him to death and make him think so, but out of respect for their former colleague, they’d have mercy, even when Javier didn’t deserve it.

Like her Heavenly Father.

Her phone chimed. She flipped it open without looking, figuring it had to be Amber asking for an update and assuring Celia they were on their way. She was surprised to hear the police chief’s voice. “He turned himself in.”

“He’s there?” Celia heaved a sigh of relief.

“And quaking in his shoes.”

“I’ll be there as soon as Amber comes to give me a ride.”

The police chief asked her to give them a chance to make Javier sweat first. She agreed, then hung up the phone and looked up at Manny. “He turned himself in.”

“That doesn’t mean you should go easy on him.”

She lowered her gaze. “I know.”

Manny’s stance relaxed. At least his legs. She couldn’t bear to look him in the eye again.

“You ought to make him pay for damages on the car, too. Probably all it’ll need is a new bumper and a windshield. I doubt all that would cost more than your deductible and subsequent raise in premiums, especially with his age. Another thing, you should teach him to wear seat belts.”

“I do.” Celia forced her voice to stay humble. She stuffed clenched fists beneath her thighs. She ached to tell Manny that she hadn’t given Javier permission to drive the stupid vehicle in the first place, but subdued the urge. What would that solve? To admit Javier took off sans permission wouldn’t make her look much better.

Why did she care what Manny thought anyway? What did she care? Unfortunately, a lot. And that scared her.

A lot.

Chapter Thirteen

M
anny couldn’t believe this was the same kid. Javier had far exceeded their deal. He’d accomplished everything on Manny’s daily work lists and had voluntarily surrendered money he’d been saving for a car of his own. Not to mention Joel appreciated the help with home-improvement projects so he could spend more time with Amber and Bradley and getting the Drop Zone shaped up.

A horn sounded outside. Javier peered out the window. “Mom’s here. I finished all the gutters. I’ll be back after dinner to rake the yard.”

“You’re doing a great job working off your debt, Javier.”

For the first time in two weeks, he met Manny’s gaze. The look of genuine remorse in Javier’s eyes tugged at Manny’s heart. The initial humiliation of having a verbal lashing from his father’s former coworkers at the police department the day he’d taken the car, and the last two weeks of working for Manny and Joel had humbled Javier.

Manny wondered if he’d been behaving better at home. He wouldn’t know because Celia had been steering a wide berth around him. And rightfully so. He’d been a complete jerk. He really should apologize, but she avoided him at every turn.

He missed her.

“Hang on. I’ll walk out with you.” Manny grabbed his crutch and followed Javier off the porch.

Celia didn’t notice his presence until Javier opened the car’s passenger side. She must have recently gotten it back from the repair shop because she’d been driving a car with rental tags before today.

Not that he’d noticed.

“I see you’re down to three legs instead of four. I’m glad for you.” Celia eyed the one crutch Manny leaned on but avoided his direct gaze. He didn’t miss the flush up her neck.

“Yeah, thanks. Doc says the bone graft took. Everything’s fusing back together and healing faster than normal.”

“I’ve been praying for you.” She stared out the windshield and kept her hands plastered to the wheel though the car was off. Humility in her tone spurred him to want to say something else. Something to assure her he didn’t hold Javier’s actions against her. Or the fact that she’d wounded him by speaking before thinking. He knew she struggled with that. Maybe he’d overreacted.

Manny leaned in. “Call me later, Celia?”

A startled look crossed her face, and Javier grew tense with concern. “Did I not do a good job?” he asked.

Manny could see in Javier’s eyes that he longed for Manny to like him. To approve of his hard work. “You did more than fine, Javier. You did excellent. This is something between your mom and me that has nothing to do with you.”

Javier looked from one to the other, then shrugged. “Okay. See you in an hour or so. After I clean up the dishes.”

Manny eyed Celia.

She lifted her shoulders and cast a grin Javier’s way. “I’ve been making him work to pay off the windshield and the bumper. You were right. It ended up being best not to turn in an insurance claim. Thanks for the advice.”

Manny nodded, then eyed Javier. “Since it’s Saturday, I think I’ll roast marshmallows on some of that wood you chopped and stacked yesterday. If it’s all right with her, you can hang around after you finish the chore lists your mother and I made for today.”

Your mother and I.

Something painful flickered across Celia’s face with the phrase, causing Manny to realize it sounded too cozy, too much like family.

Javier looked to her, near pleading in his eyes. Manny hoped he hadn’t crossed a maternal bound. “I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t. I’m still grounded.”

Celia tapped her lip with a finger. “That’s fine as long as you come straight home by ten.”

Manny shifted his crutch and gave Celia a pensive grin. “You’re welcome to stay when you drop him off. I make a mean s’more.”

Celia eyed him beneath those long lashes. He still wondered if they were real. “I have things to do tonight, but thanks for the invite.”

“No problem. If you change your mind, the invitation still stands.” Manny hoped he didn’t sound as disappointed as he felt. Truth was, loneliness and boredom were eating away at him. Dark-paneled wood in the Montgomery home, and the days getting darker sooner didn’t help.

He stepped away so Javier could shut the car door.

Manny watched them until brake lights disappeared beneath her lowering garage door. Since their latest blowout, Manny had been feeling out of sorts. Unsettled. Discontented. Not until he’d heard Celia’s voice did he realize how much he’d missed her.

“I don’t know what to make of that, Lord. She’s the hardest person to get along with, and the hardest person to get along without. Please help me sort out these confusing feelings.”

Manny knew from talking to Joel about his attraction to Celia that she remained dead set against dating men in dangerous jobs. He definitely fit that description, yet he was pretty sure the attraction ran both ways. A female DZ employee had asked Joel for Manny’s number and voiced interest in him one day after Manny’d gone to the DZ with Joel. She reminded Manny of the type of girl who stalked the team at nightclubs when they found out the guys were a band of soldiers. Like camouflage groupies or something. Sure, the girl was pretty. Gorgeous by society’s standards. But they weren’t his standards.

And she wasn’t Celia.

Manny fingered the phone number. What would one date hurt? Maybe companionship could dispel some of his discontent. He eyed the lone light in Celia’s living-room window. He imagined her curled up with lesson plans beside the crackling fire. The cat she tried so hard to pretend to hate curled up on her legs like he’d see sometimes when he’d go for evening walks and she’d wave at him through the glass.

Having second thoughts, Manny squished the paper and tossed it in the refuse pile, mentally declining. If Celia ever changed her mind about dating danger, Manny didn’t want to be involved with someone else. He meandered back into the empty house and set out an extra hot cocoa cup beside the two already stationed on the counter.

Just in case she changed her mind.

 

As bad as she missed Manny, Celia opted not to go to the marshmallow roast. Amber wasn’t home because Bradley had wanted to fish at her parents’ pond over the weekend.

Celia wasn’t ready to face Manny at length after the profound hurt he’d suffered at her thoughtless, devastating words. Maybe he and Javier needed male bonding time anyway, to heal their relationship. It had become vitally important to Celia for that to happen. She’d prayed for it for two solid weeks.

The change in Javier had been astounding. She didn’t know how Manny did it, but when her son spent any amount of time with the guy, Javier practically turned into a saint. He’d been steadily working off damages, then kept helping around the house without being asked. He’d been polite and courteous, and she hadn’t had one complaint from his teachers.

The disconcerting thing was she noticed an obsession with Special Forces. When Javier had his TV and computer time reinstated, he’d utilized every minute of the privilege to live on the Military Channel or the Pentagon station. He’d also been researching pararescue jumpers online.

Celia felt as if a double standard warred within her. She wanted Manny’s influence over her son’s life as long as it suited her. It was obvious Manny kept her kid out of trouble, or at least kept him from wanting to get into trouble. But Javier’s interest in becoming a soldier grew like a weed on steroids the more time he spent with Manny.

Then came the whole startling revelation that she missed Manny. Sure, she’d missed Manny’s influence in Javier’s life, but she’d missed their brief exchanges more than she cared to admit.

Celia put her face in her hands and groaned.

Organizing something would make her feel better. After tackling her rolltop desk, Celia organized her shoe closets, but memories of Manny still chased her through the house. She went to her living room, pulled the curtain aside. She could see half of the Montgomery yard from here.

She sighed with companionable longing and missing.

She pressed her hand to the glass, the doorstep at her fingertips. Why couldn’t she just walk down there and face him? Because she might see in his eyes that he cared about her as much as she cared about him. Or that he’d missed her as much as she’d missed him. That would make her want to toss her fears out caution’s window and take another chance on love.

And he’d be a stronger voice in Javier’s life.

Her fear of Javier being in a dangerous job was like a candy factory compared to what could happen to Javier out in the streets. Celia stared toward the road and sighed. She supposed she could go to the marshmallow roast, but how would she find a way not to fall prey to Manny’s charms?

Mama mia. The guy’s eyes alone were hotter than jalapeños. Then again, so was his temper. And hers. How would they not burn each other into oblivion?

Life had been missing something the past two weeks. A void had opened up the moment Manny had walked off her porch that day.

Oh, boy, that day.

It hadn’t been until Celia read police reports that she’d realized Manny had been on the scooter seconds before impact. How he’d escaped harm, she’d never know. Of course she would.

Celia pulled her sweater tighter around herself and stared up through the skylight at the expanse of deepening blue, past it really, to the One who spoke it into existence with a sentence.

Let there be…

She knew, because she’d been studying the power of spoken words in her Bible. Too bad God didn’t speak into her body, “Let it be light.” Then, poof, she’d drop those extra ten pounds. Okay, twenty.

“Lord, Thank You for protecting Manny. Maybe I should trust You with that more often, eh?”

She’d viewed Javier’s military Web sites to know just how dangerous a PJ’s job could be. She’d had no idea these were the guys who usually went after downed pilots, or that they were some of the more famous rescuers she’d seen on
FOX news
or
CNN.
Their creed, “These things we do, that others may live,” wasn’t worded that way for nothing.

Their job meant risking everything for the sake of another.

It had to be one of the most demanding and selfless jobs in the world. Yet she never heard the media talk about them, probably because they were Special Forces. Silent warriors who worked behind the scenes and didn’t care that the entire world had no clue they were the valiant ones who were owed true credit for saving countless lives with sheer sweat, raw courage and selfless will.

Celia sighed. Even if things progressed romantically all the way to the ring, her chances of ending up twice a widow in her life were astronomically high.

In Manny’s line of work, not only did he dive blind out of perfectly good aircraft during flight in pitch-dark doing Indy 500 speeds at heights requiring oxygen administration, he was a combat warrior, which meant he was shot at for a living. In the deepest sea or on the tallest mountain or in scalding climates, he’d leap for another life if he thought he could save it.

Hadn’t that been what he’d done with Javier?

Why hadn’t she seen it before? He’d risked friendship with her; something she knew had grown to be vitally important to him, to save her son from himself and bad choices. The scariest part was, the more she’d spent time with Manny, the less she’d cared that he had a dangerous job. The way he worked toward healing, he’d be back at his duties soon.

Maybe it was good this rift happened. She needed a reason to stop becoming dependent on him. Still, she couldn’t negate that he brought amazing amounts of joy into her and Javier’s lives, and undeniably positive change in her son.

She needed to figure out how to influence Javier to do good without Manny’s help. She should commit to finding a church home. Celia cringed at the notion, yet deep down she knew God had been dealing with her on that.

Church would be a stretch, but she didn’t see any other viable solution.

Celia huffed. Maybe she should stop all this thinking and get down there. She rubbed off a circle of mist her breath painted on the glass and watched smoke rise from Amber’s backyard.

Maybe she’d skip mowing the cemetery tonight. The grass was mostly dead this time of year anyhow. Maybe she’d go have a marshmallow or two with Javier and Manny. She liked the crispy brown ones with liquid centers.

She donned her cloak and headed down the road. Once there, she unhinged the gate to the backyard, heart pounding so loud he must have heard it from where he sat on a log near the fire.

Alone.

He turned to face her, then lifted his shoulders, peering behind her as if expecting to see someone else. “Javier coming, too?” He stood, smoothing hands down his jeans.

Celia’s feet screeched to a stop on the brick patio, her vision scanned the yard. “Excuse me? I thought he was still here with you.”

Manny blew out a breath and reached for his crutch, propped against a tree. “No. He left an hour ago, saying he wanted to head home early. Said he felt a migraine coming on.”

Celia’s heart fell. Javier hadn’t given up his sneaky ways?

Manny stepped toward her, his words cautious. “He probably figured you were going to work tonight and wouldn’t realize he’d gone out. I’m sorry, Celia. I watched him as far as your yard. I didn’t think he’d cut out that close to home. I should have called to see if he made it.” Weariness clouded his eyes.

“It’s not your fault.” The burn of tears caused Celia to inch back toward the gate. She didn’t want Manny to see her cry.

Too late. His hawk-vision honed in and his hard swallow told her moonlight gave away her tears. Tenderness softened his face and he stepped toward her. His hand brushed her arm.

She spun like a top and rushed from the yard. The heavy wood gate clanked shut behind her. Warmth still radiated from where he’d touched her arm. And her heart.

Oh, boy. Oh, boy. Oh, boy.

Her mind reeled all the way down the street.

Half of her hoped Manny would follow. The other half embraced relief that he hadn’t. Once inside her home, Celia passed the point of fuming. She dialed Javier’s cell number, pressing buttons hard enough to creak the phone. Surprise hit her when someone picked up on the second ring.

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