eyes fluttered open, and then he smiled and grasped her hand with his own. Joy shone in his pale green eyes, gave his wan face a spark of color beneath his short white hair. Behind him, the vast Stone Gap Lake sparkled and danced the sun’s reflections off Grandpa Ray’s features. “Merry Girl,” he said, stroking his palm tenderly against her scar, a momentary touch filled with love. “You’re here. How’s my favorite granddaughter?”
“Sassy and smart, as always.”
He laughed. “You know what tames sassy?”
“Sugar,” she replied to the familiar dialogue. Every time he’d seen her, for as long as Meri could remember, Grandpa Ray had asked her the same question and she’d given the same replies. The exchange always ended with the same sweet reward—a handful of miniature chocolate bars.
He gave her a wink and a nod. “I still have a bowl full of candies on the dining room table, waiting just for you.” He grinned. “And Jack, if you care to share.”
She wasn’t sharing anything with Jack Barlow. Not now, not in the future. He was a complication she hadn’t expected, but a complication she could surely avoid.
“Me? Share chocolate? Grandpa, you forget who you’re talking to.” Behind her, she could hear the steady whoosh-thwap-thud of Jack’s ax splitting wood. Jack was here, helping her grandfather, something he had done for as long as she could remember. Back when they were kids, it had been Jack and Eli, spending their hours after school and weekends helping Grandpa Ray, then dashing into the lake to wash away the sawdust and sweat. For all the heartbreak Jack Barlow had brought to her life, he’d brought something very good to her grandfather’s and for that, she was grateful. That little flutter earlier—all due to being surprised at seeing him, nothing more.
Last she’d heard, he was still in the military, fighting overseas. But judging by his appearance here and the buzz cut that was growing out, he was no longer the property of the US government. Not that she cared. At all. Then why did her mind keep reaching back to that moment in Gator’s Garage? The painful months after their breakup when she’d tried to forget Jack Barlow and his lopsided grin?
Whoosh-thwap-thud. Whoosh-thwap-thud.
Given the fast and furious pace Jack was attacking the wood, maybe she wasn’t the only one trying to pretend that running into each other meant nothing.
Meri blew out a breath and dismissed the thought. Jack Barlow was in her past, the last place Meri wanted to visit. “After this morning, I could use every last chocolate in that bowl, Grandpa.”
Grandpa Ray chuckled. “Been visiting your mother?”
“I thought she might have changed. But...” Meri shook her head. She’d done her daughterly duty and gone to Anna Lee’s house. That was enough. “Anyway, I’m not here to talk about her. I want to talk about how you’re doing.”
“I’m still warming a seat.” He grinned. “That’s all I’m asking from the Lord these days.”
Her chest tightened, and she felt tears burn the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away and gave Grandpa Ray a smile. She perched on the edge of the opposite chair and took his hands in hers. “I’ll be here, as long as you want.”
“I’d like that, Merry Girl.” His voice wavered a bit and his hand tightened on hers. “I’d like that very much.”
She sat back against the chair, turning her face to the North Carolina sun. It warmed her in a way nothing else ever had or ever would. Here, in the backyard of this run-down little bungalow, among the trees and grass and birds, she was home, at peace. Here, she could breathe, for the first time in a long, long time. “Me, too, Grandpa. Me, too.”
Then she heard the whoosh-thwap-thud again. Her gaze traveled back to Jack, down the muscles rippling along his back and shoulders, and the flutter returned.
Finding peace was going to be a lot harder than she’d expected.
Forgetting. It wasn’t something Jack Barlow did easily.
When he was a kid, his grandmother used to tease him about his incredible memory. Looking back, he didn’t think that he had such a great memory as much as a penchant for paying attention to details. That had served him well when he worked in his father’s garage and needed to reassemble an engine, and when he’d been on patrol in Afghanistan. In those cases, lives depended upon noticing the smallest things out of place. Still, there were days when he cursed his mind and wished the days would become a blur, the details a blank.
A car door slammed somewhere outside the garage. Jack flinched, oriented his attention in the direction of the sound, adrenaline rushing through his body. To anyone else, it was just a car door, but Jack’s brain jogged left instead of right, and in that second, he saw the bright light of the explosion detonating, heard the roaring thunder blasting into the Humvee, then the spray of metal arcing out and away from the impact. Through the floorboards, the passenger seat, up and into—
Eli.
Jack squinted his eyes shut, but it didn’t erase the sounds of Eli’s agonizing screams, didn’t wipe away the sight of his blood on the truck, on Jack, on everything. Didn’t make him forget watching Eli’s big brown eyes fading from light to glass. Jack shut his eyes, but still all he saw was the moment when he’d turned the truck east instead of west, and the shrapnel intended for Jack hit his best friend instead.
Goddamn.
Jack took in a breath, another, but still his heart jackhammered in his chest, and his lungs constricted. Sweat plastered his shirt, washing him hot, then cold. The wave began to hit him hard, fast, like a riptide, dragging him under, back to that dark place again.
Blowing out a breath, he unclenched his fists and opened his eyes. He stared up at the underside of the Monte Carlo. The snake lines of the exhaust, the long rectangle of the oil pan. Inhaled the scent of grease, felt the hard, cold concrete beneath his palms. Listened to the sounds of passing traffic. Reality.
Finally, Jack pushed himself out from under the car and into the cool, dim expanse of the garage. He rubbed the tired out of his eyes, worked to uncoil the tension that came from snatching a few minutes of sleep every hour. But still the memories stayed, a panther in the shadows.
Ever since he’d come home from the war, Jack had done the only thing he could—worked until he couldn’t stay awake. He divided his days between his father’s garage and Ray’s cottage, because it was only when he was immersed in a disabled engine or surrounded by a stack of unchopped wood that he could pull his mind away.
Away from the past. Away from the mistakes he had made. Away from his own guilt.
And now, away from Meri. He hadn’t expected to see her—not today, not ever—and the encounter had left him a little disconcerted, unnerved. Meri represented everything he wanted to put behind him, everything he wanted to forget—
And couldn’t.
How the hell was he supposed to tell her the truth? Tell her that he was the one who should have protected Eli, who should have made damned sure Eli, with his perpetual smile, was the one who came home? How could
