that he was here, facing Clay’s sister at last, he didn’t know how to begin.
At the beginning? The end? Somewhere in between?
Hands clasped in front of her, Hailey eyed the soldier pacing through the original parlor of O’Brien House, all the while trying to keep hold of her composure. Unfortunately, Captain Wolfson’s nervousness was wearing off on her. Clearly he had something important to say, but he wasn’t having much success in getting the words past his lips.
So she waited.
And watched.
He couldn’t stand still for more than a few seconds at a time. His fingers tapped out a chaotic rhythm on his thigh. Her toes caught the uneasy cadence, until she realized what she was doing and stopped. Clay had been jumpy like this the first time he’d returned home from Iraq. Clay. Oh, Clay.
Her heart lurched at the mere thought of her brother. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. How she missed him. She’d been so proud of his role in the Army, awed by his dedication, and inspired by his descriptions of the strides the military was making in Iraq. But then God had taken him home. And Hailey had been forced to examine her own life. She hadn’t liked what she’d discovered about herself.
But that was in the past. She was a different woman now, with more conviction. Where Clay had set out to bring peace to the Middle East, she would do what was necessary to bring hope.
Lord, help me to honor my brother’s sacrifice with my mission work. Let him not have died in vain.
Feeling stronger, resolved, she focused once more on Captain Wolfson. He looked at home in his Army camouflage and tan combat boots. What Clay used to call his BDUs.
As she waited for the captain to speak, Hailey silently congratulated herself on maintaining her composure. When she’d opened the door to him earlier she’d almost lost it.
During that terrible, heart-stopping declaration that he’d been with Clay when he’d died the tears had pressed against her lids. Only one had escaped. She’d held the rest back. That’s what mattered. As her mother had always said, an O’Brien woman kept her poise under all circumstances.
Oh, but it hurt to look at this man pacing through her home like a caged panther. With his dark hair, ice-blue eyes and direct gaze, Captain Wolfson was far too much like her brother.
Except…he was nothing like Clay. Hard. Yes, that was the word that came to mind as she gazed up at him. No. Not hard. Sorrowful. Wounded. A man with regrets.
She could stand the suspense no longer. “You said you have something important to tell me?”
He jerked at her voice and then his hand shot out, as though he was reaching for something. His weapon? Clay had reacted the same way whenever a loud noise surprised him.
“I’m sorry, Captain.” She spoke softer this time. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay.” He closed his hand into a tight fist. “I’m just a little low on sleep.”
Possibly. But she doubted that was the cause of his jumpiness. She rose slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. “You have something to tell me about Clay?”
“Yes. But sit back down.” He gestured to the chair she’d just abandoned. “Please.”
“If you’ll join me.”
He looked at several pieces of furniture, narrowing his eyes as he went.
Understanding dawned. “Clay didn’t like this room, either.” She allowed herself a short laugh. “He said it was too girly.”
Wolf smiled at that. It was a quick, almost indiscernible lift of his lips, but a smile all the same. Unfortunately, the gesture made him seem somehow…sadder.
Shoulders set, he lowered himself to the love seat facing her. She could practically hear his thoughts colliding into one another as he leaned forward and captured her gaze with his. “You should know that Clay died honorably.”
It was her turn to smile, grateful for those simple, straightforward words affirming what she already knew. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“You’re not surprised.”
“Clay was an honorable man.”
“That he was.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over them.
Hailey swallowed. “Was that what you came to tell me?”
“No.” He broke eye contact, but not before she saw the agony in his gaze.
This conversation was hard on him, that much was clear. Well, it was equally difficult for her. She still missed her brother. Desperately. He’d been the last of her living relatives. After six full months, she often found herself waking in the middle of the night with tears running down her cheeks.
But as bad as she felt over her loss, this man had watched Clay die.
Without thinking too hard about what she was doing, Hailey moved to a spot next to him on the love seat and took one of his hands in hers. When he didn’t pull away, she squeezed gently. Her meeting at the church was no longer important. Giving this man comfort mattered more. Maybe, in the process, she would find a moment of peace, as well.
For several seconds, Captain Wolfson sat deathly still next to her, staring at their joined hands with his brows scrunched together. Confusion? Frustration? She couldn’t read his emotions anymore.
And then a dreadful thought occurred to her. “Did something happen to Clay that the military hasn’t told me? Something…classified?”
“No.” He sucked in a harsh breath. “No. His death was senseless, but not unusual. Our Humvee hit a roadside bomb. Clay lived a few minutes longer than the other three soldiers with us.”
The other three? Counting Clay and Captain Wolfson that made five men in the truck. “Are you saying you were the only one who made it out alive?”
“Yes.” The word came out softer than a whisper. And so sorrowful.
Hailey clasped his hand a little harder. “I’m sorry.”
He squeezed back, then lifted his gaze to meet hers. She gasped at what she saw in his eyes. Pain. Grief. And something else. Guilt, maybe? Was he suffering from survivor’s guilt? She’d heard about the terrible emotion, but had never truly understood it. Until now.
Lord, how do I help this man?
She wasn’t trained for something like this. It was more than she could handle.
Just as despair nearly overtook her, Wolf’s face cleared of all expression and he tugged his hand free. “Clay made one final request before he died.”
A sense of dread whipped through her. She didn’t want to hear the rest. Captain Wolfson had the unrelenting look of a man filled with resolve, the kind of determination a person got when he had to do or say something awful.
As
