CHAPTER THREE
Sarah walked into her office an hour later, infinitely more calm. She’d gotten a copy of the police report of the fight from the military police liaison and had sat in her car, flipping through the information. There really didn’t seem to be much to it. Basically, Kearney and Smith got into a fight about Kearney’s wife.
She honestly could not figure out why she was investigating this fiasco. But, there were times in every officer’s life that one simply shut up and colored, and that’s exactly what she was going to do. She set the file on her desk and started to log in to her computer.
LT Picket stuck her head into her office.
“Ma’am? There was a call for you while you were out. Your daycare?”
“Thanks,” Sarah said as she pulled out her cell phone. No missed calls. Great, Fort Hood was a cell phone dead zone. That was always helpful. Please don’t let Anna be sick. Not today.
“Oh, and Major Wilson was looking for you.” Sarah looked up at the LT. “She said something about the command and staff?”
Sarah looked at the battalion calendar on her desk that she’d printed out the night prior. “There was command and staff today?”
“It was moved because of the meeting for the ball next weekend.”
A sense of dread curled around Sarah’s heart. “And I was expected to be there?”
Picket nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Major Wilson was, ah, not happy that you weren’t there.”
Sarah blew out a hard breath. Great. First week in the unit and she’d already missed an important meeting. Command and staff. The weekly meeting between—who else? —commanders and the battalion staff officers.
The daycare had called thirty minutes ago. She looked between the note and her phone and hated herself that she even had to think about which one needed to be dealt with first. Never in her life had she imagined that being a parent and a soldier would tug her in completely opposite directions. She closed the door, dialing the daycare from her office phone.
“Hi, Ms. Silver, this is Sarah Anders, Anna’s mom. I had a message you called me?”
“Yes, Ms. Anders. It looks like Anna is running a fever. She’s going to have to be out for at least twenty-four hours before she can come back. Will you be coming to get her or will her father?” The daycare manager, Ms. Silver, had the kind of voice that got on Sarah’s last nerve every time she heard it.
Sarah closed her eyes and opted not to clarify that she was Anna’s only parent. Again. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” There was a single rap on her office door and she held up one finger over her shoulder.
She turned and realized who she’d quite literally given the finger to.
“Put the phone down, Captain.” Major Wilson stood in Sarah’s doorway.
She’d never met Major Wilson before, but she didn’t need to know much about her to know she was going to be highly unpleasant to work for. Her gray blond hair was cut short around her face. She wore neither makeup nor a smile, and her eyes were cold and merciless.
Sarah was fucked. She knew women like this. Women who made it their life’s work to push other women out of the Army because they weren’t the right type for the job.
Sarah clicked her phone off and stood immediately. Her half-formed apology was barely a sound in the base of her throat before Major Wilson cut her off.
“Captain Anders, I don’t know what kind of standards they had in your last unit, but here, my staff officers are on time and present for my meetings.” Major Wilson’s voice was gravelly and filled with napalm.
“Roger, ma’am.” She thought about mentioning that she had no idea the meeting had been changed then decided against it. Major Wilson didn’t look like she handled excuses too well. Sarah had a sudden vision of Mortal Kombat, with a player getting her spine ripped out.
Not exactly comforting imagery at the moment.
Major Wilson didn’t raise her voice, but still managed to make Sarah feel like she was two inches tall. “I’ll see you at 1800 tonight for your initial counseling.”
Sarah opened her mouth and Wilson’s ice blue eyes narrowed quickly. “Is that going to be a problem?”
Sarah snapped her mouth closed and shook her head. “No, ma’am.” She bit the inside of her lip while she waited for Wilson’s response.
Her gaze flicked to Sarah’s phone. “You have childcare issues.” It was not a question.
“Ma’am, my daughter is running a fever. I have to keep her out of daycare tomorrow. My family care plan is current, pending my local childcare provider getting the last form notarized.” Sarah would forever be grateful to the fates that had sent Mel and Jamie Sorren her way. Mel had volunteered to take care of Anna whenever she needed it. It was just that Mel was a little preoccupied with her ex, who’d gone and had a heart attack a couple of weeks ago. Sarah just couldn’t bring herself to ask Mel for help right then.
Wilson blinked rapidly, her jaw flexing. “Where’s your husband?”
Sarah breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. She wondered if she would ever get used to the callousness of that question from her leaders. Even if Jack hadn’t died in the war, maybe she’d left an abusive relationship. Maybe she’d decided to have a child on her own. But no, the default for officers was white, heterosexual couple with a stay-at-home Army wife and a husband who sold his soul to make the next pay grade and wow did she sound bitter.
“My husband died in Iraq, ma’am.” The hurt no longer blocked her throat like it once had, no longer crushed her lungs and kept her from speaking, but the lump was still there. Still made her clear her throat so she could breathe again.
She was still off kilter from the altercation with Sean. That was all.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” A bland platitude. It wasn’t always. Most people meant it when they said they were sorry.
But Wilson didn’t. She was the kind of officer who punished other women who dared do the Army differently than she did—single, childless, and as manly as the men.
Sarah had forgotten that there were officers out there like Wilson. She’d been so fortunate to work with other women who lifted each other up rather than tore each other down. Women like Claire, who pushed her to do better instead of tripping her up. Guess her luck had finally run out.
Sarah remained silent, figuring there was nothing she could do or say at this point to dig her ass out of the hole she’d gotten herself into by missing a meeting she hadn’t known about. Awesome first impression with the battalion XO. Fantastic start in the new unit.
Everything that was important to her slipped a little further out of reach as she stood beneath the unflinching scrutiny of Major Wilson. Her hard work to stay in the Army even after Jack died. Her need to stay in the fight, to be a soldier. To make a difference. All of those reasons that mattered so much to her slipped a little further away.
“Submit a leave form for tomorrow and any future days you need to take off work to care for your family.” Wilson paused, her expression cold. “I hope you don’t have a sickly child.”
“No, ma’am.”
“Good. I can’t afford to have staff officers missing work. We’ve got too much to do with the current deployment cycle.”
Sarah waited until she was alone before sinking into her chair and cupping her face in her hands.
Had she kicked puppies in a previous life? Drowned kittens or something?
“Major Wilson can be really tough, but she’s not that bad once you get to know her,” LT Picket said from the doorway.
“I’m sure she’s normally charming,” Sarah said dryly. She looked over to find Picket still in the doorway. “Can I help you with something, LT?”
Picket chewed on her lip, and Sarah couldn’t decide if the gesture annoyed her or not. “Is it true? You’re really a single mom because your husband died in Iraq?”
The lieutenant’s earnestness was such a stark contrast to the banal chill in Major Wilson’s eyes. God, had she ever been that young and naïve? And holy hell, when did all these personal questions become normal for people to ask?
“Yes.” Wow, she did not want to have this conversation tonight. Or ever, for that matter.
Picket’s expression was instantly sad, the way only a young soldier who had not yet gone to war could be. It was honest and real and it reached in and squeezed Sarah’s heart. “I’m so sorry.”
There was nothing Sarah could say to that.
Sarah finished her leave form. “Can you drop this off at the company for me?”
“Sure, ma’am.”
“Thank you. I’ll be back in a little bit. Have to get my daughter, before my late night meeting with the boss.”
***
“Thirteen hours after I call you, lieutenant, you decide to show up?”
Wilford Paul Smith, III stood at the position of attention in front of Sean’s desk. His white button-up shirt was stained with blood and his khaki pants were ripped at one knee. He reeked like a Porta-Potty in Iraq in August even from six feet away. “I came as soon as I got your message, sir.”
“Clearly, we need to come to a common understanding of what ASAP actually means.” Sean rocked back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. He remained silent for a long moment. Long enough to make Smith squirm.
The little fucker was lying to him. Sean had already gotten the report from one of his platoon leaders. Smith hadn’t come as soon as he’d gotten the call. He’d stayed out partying until he passed out in LT Biggs’s back seat. The only reason he still looked like shit was because Biggs had left him in the car when Biggs had reported to PT formation that morning. “So make it a good one,” Sean finally said.
“Sir?” Smith broke his hundred-yard stare from some point over Sean’s head to meet his gaze briefly.
There was something smarmy about his stance, something Sean couldn’t put his finger on.
“The story. Why you’re getting into fights with one of my NCOs? Make it a good one.”
Smith’s nostrils flared. “Are you going to read me my rights first, sir?”
Heat crawled up Sean’s neck. He ground his teeth and yanked his temper back viciously. It was forever before he leaned forward. By some act of God, he did not raise his voice. He kept his voice perfectly calm and flat. “You can invoke your rights, LT. That’s perfectly fine. There’s a 15-6 investigation ongoing as of right now.” Smith’s expression flickered, then shuttered closed once more, revealing nothing more than a hard night of drinking. “I encourage you to think long and hard about the content of your statement.”
Smith’s red-rimmed eyes narrowed and landed quickly on Sean’s face before finding a spot over Sean’s shoulder. He cleared his throat. “I already gave my statement to the Harker Heights PD, sir.”
Sean let him squirm just a little inside of his hundred-dollar khakis.
“Stand fast in the ops,” Sean said.
Smith left the office less sharply than he’d entered it. There was uncertainty in his movement now. Good. Sean wanted him to squirm.
Sean stepped out of his office. Morgan sat at the conference room table, the Army Times spread out before him like he was reading the Sunday paper. “What’s your plan, sir?”
“I’m going to find the investigating officer,” Sean said. “See if she’ll interview him tonight instead of waiting.”
Morgan glanced up, then back at his paper. “I take it I’ll be keeping him and Sergeant Dances-With-Fists separated?”
Sean shook his head and fought a grin. “Roger that. I want this over with sooner rather than later.”
“And you think she’s going to come skipping down here because you ask her to?” Morgan asked.
Sean stopped at the front door of his ops. “I’m a commander. Staff officers work for commanders.”
Morgan looked up at him. “Clearly you haven’t been paying attention in command and staff.”
Sean pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need this wrapped up. We don’t have time for outside officers to be getting into our affairs.”
“We don’t have time for lieutenants and sergeants to be coming to blows at bars downtown, either.”
“What’s your point, Top?”
“My point is that if you’d dealt with Kearney the first time I recommended you throw the damn book at him, we wouldn’t be dealing with his bullshit now.”
Sean swallowed hard. “So this is your way of saying I told you so?”
Morgan stood and gripped Sean’s shoulder. “I get it, sir,” he said quietly. “I understand why you’re reluctant to take action against a man you bled with in combat. But he’s detracting from the mission in a big way.” Morgan released his shoulder. “I’ll support whatever you want to do, sir, but I strongly recommend dealing with Kearney and his shit.” Morgan paused before folding up his paper. “He needs to soldier, or he needs to go home, sir.”
Sean stood there for a moment, letting his first sergeant’s advice sink in. Morgan was sharp, one of the strongest first sergeants Sean had ever served with.
But he was wrong about Kearney.
Sean headed to the support battalion headquarters, hoping to find out what unit Sarah was in so he could get a hold of her.
He hated going into the support battalion headquarters. Their battalion executive officer was known to make grown men cry. She’d gotten a hold of Sean’s fellow commander Captain Bello a few weeks back and had damn near ripped his soul out through his nostrils for allowing trucks to be driven without proper equipment in them.
Wilson couldn’t be all bad if she was ripping into Bello. It was a perverse sort of pleasure that Sean took from seeing that fucking guy get his ass handed to him.
He rounded the corner leading from the parking lot toward her battalion headquarters and stopped, his heart frozen in his chest.
Sarah was walking toward the headquarters, holding the hand of a small, dark-haired little girl. Her entire body was relaxed as she tipped her head toward the small child and listened intently to whatever the child was saying.
In that instance, his fears were confirmed. In the face of that child, he saw very clearly the image of a man he’d once known.
Crossing the years, the hurt returned, as sharp and cutting as it had been that long-ago day. He felt the heat of the burning truck. The asphalt digging into his skin. The ghost of a brother long gone but not forgotten stared back at him from that little girl’s face.
Anders.
Jack Anders.
Sarah was Jack Anders’s widow.
That little girl was Jack Anders’s daughter.
Sarah looked up. Across the quad, their eyes met. Sean stood, rooted and motionless in the spot.
Marry me, Sarah.
I can’t.
The memory slammed into him, a thousand points of violence penetrating the darkness surrounding his soul.
She swallowed then and looked down at the little girl.
He turned, then, and walked away, the force of the memories driving him away from her.
From the life that could have been that stared back at him from the face of that little girl.