style="font-size:15px;"> “Hello, Nate.”
His ex-wife was the last person on earth he expected to see standing there. He stared at her for a moment. She was just as pretty as he remembered. Her hair was shorter now, no longer the riot of cinnamon-brown curls it had been when they were married, but still shiny and fine as silk, just brushing the curve of her chin and the collar of her apple-green sweater. Her figure was more mature, too, her breasts a little heavier, her hips more rounded, but like the hairstyle, it suited her.
“I…I hope I’m not interrupting your work,” she said as his silence dragged out.
“What are you doing here, Sarah?” His voice sounded as gruff as his granddad’s, but there was nothing he could do about it, even if he’d wanted to. The shock of seeing her again after all this time overrode everything. She looked at him with the same big brown eyes that had attracted him to her that spring day eight years earlier, as she waited tables at the little restaurant outside Fort Hood, where he’d been stationed. He’d just earned his sergeant’s stripes and had gone there for coffee and eggs after an all-night celebration with a couple of the other newly minted NCOs. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision that had changed his life.
“I need to talk to you.” Nate glanced down at her left hand. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. But she had remarried. He’d heard that much after their divorce. As a matter of fact if the gossip on the base was right, she’d barely waited for the ink to dry on their divorce papers before she’d tied the knot.
“We don’t have anything to talk about.”
She winced at the coldness in his voice but held her ground. “I know you aren’t happy to see me, but please, hear me out.” He caught the sheen of tears in her eyes and tensed. She’d always cried easily, but she didn’t let them fall now. And there was a veneer of steel overlying her soft words he’d never heard before. “It’s important, Nate. Please.”
He hesitated. Indecision like that would’ve gotten him killed in the old days. You didn’t last long in Explosive Ordnance Disposal if you couldn’t keep your mind on your business. He began to process information one thread at a time. Did she want money? She hadn’t wanted any four years ago. Money was one thing they’d never fought about during their short marriage. The wedge that had split them apart had been far more serious. He would’ve given her every cent he had. What he wouldn’t give her was a child. He still thought he’d done the right thing then, refusing to go off to war leaving her pregnant and alone in the world. But she’d been too young and insecure to realize it, and he’d done one hell of a lousy job trying to explain his reasons. The nagging awareness of his past failings softened his next words. “Come on in. We can talk inside.”
Sarah glanced over her shoulder at the seen-better-days minivan parked beneath the big oak at the edge of the drive. “I’d rather stay out here if you don’t mind.” She made a little gesture toward the two folding lawn chairs propped against the side of the barn where his granddad, Harmon Riley, liked to sit and watch the sunset with a cigar in one hand and a beer in the other.
“All right.” He took a couple of limping steps and unfolded one of the chairs for her, setting it next to the sun-warmed foundation stones. He waited until she was seated then stuffed the shop rag into the back pocket of his paint-stained jeans and lowered himself onto the sagging webbing of the second chair. She folded her hands in her lap, staring at her vehicle.
“Does your husband know you’re here?” he asked. He must know, Nate surmised. He couldn’t see Sarah sneaking around on the guy. She wasn’t like that.
She gave him a quick, startled glance. “How did you know I’d remarried?”
“It wasn’t exactly a secret on base. There were plenty of people who didn’t mind passing along the information. It took awhile to get to Afghanistan, but I heard it.”
She nodded. “You didn’t hear all of it. David died more than three years ago. A hit-and-run driver in the parking lot of the store he managed.”
He hadn’t let himself think of her married to another man, but he didn’t like that she was on her own again, either. “You’re right, I didn’t hear that. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” she said with quiet dignity.
“Who told you I was back in Riley’s Cove? You haven’t been in touch with anyone in the family. They would have told me if you had.”
“I checked with your old unit. Sergeant Harris is still there. He told me you’d left the Army and moved back to Michigan.”
Ennis Harris had been his best friend for twelve years. They’d been buddies since basic training, serving together in Kosovo, Afghanistan and Iraq. But since his accident and subsequent early retirement they’d lost touch. His fault, not Ennis’s.
“I didn’t know what happened until just recently,” she said, looking down the hill to the view of the lake. “I’m sorry. I know you’d planned to make the Army your career.”
“It was time for me to go.” He’d made it safely through three tours in war zones but his luck had run out two days before his unit shipped home from Iraq. A nineteen-year-old Earnhardt wanna-be in a Humvee, anxious as hell to be on the plane back to the States, had pinned him against a loading dock breaking his knee and crushing his ankle. He’d been damned lucky not to lose half his leg. He didn’t want to talk about his accident or the aftermath. “You didn’t come all the way from Texas just to offer your sympathy for something that happened eighteen months ago. Why are you here, Sarah?”
“I need you to marry me.”
SARAH WISHED she could take back the bald statement the moment it left her lips. She was going about it all wrong. She’d planned this so carefully, laid out her argument logically and methodically, but when it came time to put her resolve to the test she’d acted impulsively, speaking from her heart, as she had so often during their marriage. Nate was frowning. The double furrow between his brows was more pronounced than it had been four years ago. Otherwise he looked much the same, thick dark hair, gray eyes, broad shoulders. Solid, earthy, sure of himself and his place in the world.
“Marry you? Is this some kind of joke?”
Sarah took a deep breath and tried to slow her racing heart. She didn’t have much time. Matty would be waking up any moment. He always fell asleep in the car, lulled by the engine and the passing scenery. But he never slept for long after the car stopped. She needed to plead her case to Nate without the distraction of an active three-year-old.
“I know it seems crazy, an impossible favor, but believe me, Nate, if I had anyone else to turn to I would. I’m desperate.” She licked her lips. It was never easy to say the words so she rushed to get them out without stumbling. “I…I might be dying. And I have no one to care for my son.”
He went very still, his face as shell-shocked as her own must’ve looked when she first heard the prognosis. Then his expression cleared and, his voice level and controlled, he said, “Let’s take this one step at a time. You have a child?”
She glanced toward the car. “Yes. A little boy. Matthew. He’s three.” She could leave Matty in the van for a few more minutes. She’d been careful to park in the shade so the car would stay cool. He was safely fastened into his car seat. He’d be okay.
Nate’s veneer of disinterested calm cracked for a moment. “You must have gotten pregnant right after our divorce.”
