Bring Him Home (21 page)

“You never know.” Claire put down the deck chairs, caught his face between her hands and kissed his forehead despite his disgusted protest. “They might grow out of it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

N
ATE
FOLLOWED
THE
GUYS
to Dan’s four-wheel drive. The fragrance of fresh-baked bread and cinnamon rolls wafted from a couple of shopping bags as Ross opened the trunk.

“So you’re staying?” As usual, Ice didn’t bother with preamble.

“That depends on whether Lewis is happy about it,” Nate replied. Ellie clearly wasn’t. He felt a pang of annoyance at himself for sleeping in. She shouldn’t have found out this way, but nothing he or Claire could do about it now.

“And are you happy?” Trust Dan to ask the hard question.

“I’m all over the place,” Nate admitted. “Last night wasn’t meant to happen. I wanted to give Claire more time. Hell, we only talked about the ambush a few days ago. And I didn’t cover everything.” He glanced toward the dugout where Claire had taken Lewis. They still had challenges ahead.

“When are you going to tell us?” Ross’s quiet inquiry refocused Nate’s attention. He looked at his friends, his buddies, his brothers.

“I guess—” he swallowed “—I’m ready to tell you now.”

Ross picked up the shopping bags. “Let me give these to the girls.… I’ll offer to do the dishes if they cook breakfast. We’ll take a walk.”

“Lewis will want to come,” said Nate.

“I’ll call it a jog, then.”

He returned within a couple of minutes. “Dishes and coffee is the deal. Claire and Lewis walked by with deck chairs as I left. She gave me a thumbs-up. I think you can read that as a good sign. Ellie, on the other hand, is scowling. She’ll need some nurturing when we get back.”

Nate and Dan stared at him. “Nurturing?” said Dan.

“Amazing how far using that word gets me with your sister,” Ross replied cheerfully.

“Thank God,” said Nate. “The world has tilted on its axis enough as it is.” But his part in the banter was perfunctory. The three men walked along the beach while he struggled for a starting point. He still wasn’t ready for this conversation, but today marked a new beginning.

“If it helps…” Picking up a piece of driftwood, Ross used it as a walking stick over the soft sand. “We’re aware Steve wasn’t killed instantly.”

“How?”

Dan answered. “The call for backup. Even distorted, it’s Steve’s voice, not yours.”

“The C.O. knows,” Nate said. He’d told him as soon as he found out that he’d been cited for a heroism medal. And been absolved of culpability. The C.O. had insisted Nate receive recognition for saving Ross; his only compromise had been allowing Nate to accept the highest civilian award instead of a military one.

Nate looked at Ross, limping beside him. “Steve and I worked together to stem the bleeding and save your life.” He told the story slowly and the telling was no easier. When he’d finished, they were all sitting at the base of the dune and Dan was leaning forward, his face buried against his drawn-up knees.

“Did you expect us to ostracize you?” Ross said hoarsely. He was picking up fistfuls of sand, and then letting it slide through his fingers.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t.” Nate laid an arm across Dan’s shoulders. “I needed Claire to forgive me before I could forgive myself. She said guilt only undermines Steve’s courage in sending me away. He saved both our lives,” he said to Ross.

“Don’t underestimate your contribution.” Dan lifted his head and his eyes were wet. “You fended off a dozen insurgents for twenty minutes before backup arrived.”

“I had to.” Nate gave a ghost of a smile. “Steve kicked me in the ribs and told me to save Ross’s life. Yelled ‘That’s an order, soldier!’”

The other men smiled. “He had faith in you,” Ross croaked. “His faith made staying alive an obligation.” He stopped sifting sand. “I just had a flashback to the ambush. You saying we were the Indestructibles.”

“We’re still the Indestructibles,” Dan said. “Lee’s optimism and Steve’s altruism can live on through us.” He wiped his face dry on his T-shirt. “We live big for them and we make the rest of our lives count. The prospect of Jo’s cancer recurring has only reinforced that philosophy for me.” He punched Nate’s arm. Hard. “And we don’t shut each other out again.”

“Okay.” Massaging feeling into his biceps, Nate gazed out to sea where an unwieldy trawler crawled across the horizon, its funnel puffing black smoke. “There’s one more thing I need to tell Claire,” he said. “It’s not something I regret, but she needs to know everything.… So do you.”

“Hey!” They all glanced up at the shout. Lewis jogged up, panting. “You have to come for breakfast.”

The teenager’s presence precluded further conversation. They started back, Lewis slipping into step alongside Nate. “Mum said you’re getting married.”

Nate laughed; he couldn’t help it. A little ahead of herself, his love. He matched the boy’s casualness. “That’s my hope.” Understatement. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Dan and Ross exchanging startled grins. “If you’re okay with it,” he added.

“You mean, because of Dad? I’ll always miss him, but at least now I don’t have to miss you, too.”

And just like that, Nate’s vision blurred. Without a word, Dan pulled a pair of sunglasses out of the breast pocket of his shirt and passed them over. Ross offered Lewis his makeshift walking stick. “How far can you throw it?”

Nate jammed on the sunglasses and struggled for control. He wanted to cry like a baby for this second chance; instead, he wrestled his emotions under control and surreptitiously wiped away the few tears trickling under the sunglasses. Fortunately, Lewis was too absorbed in lining up his shot to notice. With a whoop, the teen hurled the stick like a javelin.

The sunglasses had fogged up, Nate didn’t see where it landed—hell, he could barely see where he was walking. He laughed suddenly, an old rusty chuckle. Somewhere Steve was probably laughing, too.
Are you okay with all this, mate? Give me a sign…something, anything.
His left foot kicked the remnants of a kid’s sandcastle and his friends threw out a hand to steady him.
Okay,
he thought.
Yeah. I’ll take that.

* * *

W
HAT
WERE
THEY
TALKING
ABOUT
?

Clearing plates after breakfast, Claire noticed Lewis having an earnest conversation with his grandmother on the beach below the deck. In the flurry of organizing the meal, there’d been no opportunity for their own private showdown and she was feeling the strain of Ellie’s martyred silence and wounded pride.

She picked up her mother-in-law’s scraped plate. Though it hadn’t affected Ellie’s appetite. A good sign?

The sound of raised voices returned her attention to the estuary. Lewis had his arms folded; Ellie was frowning. Please, not an argument now. Her son’s expression changed, grew pleading. His grandmother’s frown softened, though it didn’t disappear. Good, they were sorting it out.

“Let me take those, the guys are on dishes, remember?” Nate’s arms encircled her from behind. “And since the coast is clear.” He nuzzled her neck, and Claire closed her eyes briefly in a delicious shiver. Momentarily she leaned into his solid warmth then stepped out of his embrace.

“Not quite clear.” Handing over the stacked plates, she pointed to the two figures on the beach. “I thought you were a covert operator.”

“Turns out I’m a ‘shout it from the rooftop’ kind of guy when it comes to love.” Oh, God, she lost the power of thought when he smiled at her like that. Nate looked beyond her to Lewis and Ellie and sobered. “Sure you don’t want me to talk to her first?”

“No, she needs to hear this from me.… But thanks.” One step closer and she could kiss him. He must have read her thoughts, because his eyes darkened to the color of cognac. Oh. Wow.

“So, let’s check out this boat of yours.” Jo walked through the patio doors, applying a last dab of sunblock to her pale skin, followed by Viv who’d borrowed one of Lewis’s caps and still managed to look New York chic.

“Nate, my brother is looking for a kitchen hand,” she said.

“I’m on it.” One last smile at Claire to weaken her knees—that was going to help walking—and he disappeared inside.

Claire blinked to refocus and saw two women grinning at her. She grinned back. “Ellie and Lewis are already on the beach,” she said. “And I need you two to help me out.”

Ten minutes later, her friends had drawn a tactful distance ahead with Lewis, and Claire was waiting at the bottom of the path while Ellie fetched a sunhat.

Ellie glanced along the shore to the others when she reappeared but made no comment. They started their stroll to the boat shed in silence. “So what were you and Lewis talking about?” Claire began by way of opener.

“He told me I was acting like a sulky brat.”

“What?” She gaped at her mother-in-law. “Oh, my goodness, I’ll make him apologize right now.” She picked up her pace to catch the other walkers, but Ellie caught her arm.

“He said, ‘That’s what you tell me, Nana, when you think I’m giving Mum a hard time.’”

Okay. “He’s still wrong,” she said. “Ellie, your reaction is completely understandable. This was a terrible way to find out about me and Nate.” They resumed their walk. “It only happened last night and we slept in.… I’m sorry.”

Ellie adjusted her sunhat. “You’ve done a good job with Lewis,” she said.

It wasn’t the direction Claire expected and it took her a moment to respond. “We had our concerns for a while, didn’t we?” she replied cautiously. “But he seems to be settling down again.”

“And you did a good job of raising him when Steve was deployed, too,” Ellie said. “I also appreciate that you were always there for me when Steve couldn’t be. Never once have you treated me as a pain-in-the-ass mother-in-law.”

“Well, you’ve always been there for me.” She wasn’t quite sure where this was heading, but instinct told her to follow. “Mum and Dad can only visit so often from Australia.”

“About Nathan…” Ellie paused.

Claire steeled herself. “Yes?”

“It’s going to take some getting used to.” Ellie stared straight ahead. “But as Lewis said, he and I already share you with each other—we can make room for one more.”

Awed, Claire stared after her son. “And perhaps,” Ellie admitted in a tremulous voice, “I’m not jealous for Steve’s sake, perhaps I’m also jealous for my own.”

Moved, Claire hooked her arm in her mother-in-law’s. “You’re my family,” she said. “That will never change. Up until the ambush you were Nate’s family, too.”

“And he walked away,” Ellie reminded her. “From everyone. I don’t want you getting hurt again. You’ve had enough heartache losing Steve.”

Appreciating her concern, Claire squeezed her soft forearm. “Nate had some healing to do. We all did. But he won’t leave me, Ellie. Or hurt me—at least not intentionally.” Wanting to alleviate the older woman’s anxiety, she added lightly, “Only Robert was perfect.”

Her mother-in-law sighed. “We both know Bob was a grump and our marriage wasn’t as idyllic as I’d have everyone believe. But—” her voice wavered again “—yours and Steve’s was.”

Claire thought about the hard times she and Steve had gone through as young marrieds, then about the many happy years they’d spent together before he broke his word and died in Afghanistan. “Yes,” she agreed. “It was.”

“And I think you and Nathan will be very happy, too,” Ellie said bravely.

“Your acceptance means a lot, Ellie. Thank you.”

Lewis glanced over his shoulder, saw them arm in arm and grinned. His grandmother frowned.

“Now he’s smug.” She raised her voice. “Lewis Langford, have you still got those new shoes on? I told him salt water ruins suede.” Ellie hollered again. “I’ll have your guts for garters if they get wet!”

Her grandson stopped and hastily stripped them off his feet, then ran to catch up Jo and Viv.

Claire laughed. “Where did that expression come from?”

“No idea,” said Ellie. “My English mother used it. I think it’s probably got something to do with disembowelment in the Middle Ages.” She said it with the same relish her grandson used to describe docking lambs’ tails.

Genetics was a wonderful thing. “So I take it,” said Ellie, “Nate’s not leaving?”

“No,” Claire said, feeling joy ripple through her. Life was suddenly spectacularly good. Ellie turned to gaze across the estuary. “Now, why would someone be burning rubbish on a beautiful day like this?”

Claire shaded her eyes. “It’s okay, it’s in a drum.” The flames blazed high, a plume of smoke painted a charcoal smear across the blue sky. Something tugged at Claire’s consciousness, something critical.

“I thought I could smell smoke,” Ellie commented as they resumed their walk. The acrid tang reached Claire’s nostrils; she stopped dead.

Ellie looked at her in surprise.

“I… I forgot something,” she stammered. “It’s important.” She dragged her gaze from the flames. “You go on ahead with the others. I’ll catch you all up.”

“Sure.”

Claire hurried back, her anxiety spiking until she broke into a flat run. Shells crunched under her sneakers. By the time she’d sprinted up the steps to the bach she was gasping with fear.

Ross was on the deck, cleaning the barbecue. He glanced up, smiling. “What’s the hurry?”

Ignoring him, she flew into the bach. Dan stood at the sink washing dishes. Holding a tea towel, Nate was drying a cup. “You lied to me,” she panted.

“Calm down, tell me what’s going on.”

“You said Steve didn’t suffer.”

Nate put the cup and tea towel on the counter. “He didn’t.”

“But the Humvee burned. The rear was hit with another IED. Steve…” Her voice cracked. “Steve would have burned alive.” In her mind’s eye she watched cruel licks of flame blister and burn Steve’s flesh while her trapped husband writhed, unable to escape. “No!” Claire covered her mouth against an involuntary gag.

“I swear he didn’t suffer.” Pinning her horrified gaze, Nate moved to take her arm, but she shook it off, hysteria rising.

“You lied to me!”

“Claire, listen to me.” His voice was slow, very deliberate. “I didn’t let him suffer,” he repeated.

Her brain scrambled to make sense of conflicting facts.

“Jesus,” said Dan. “Oh, God, Nate.”