CHAPTER 4
“Who’s that, Mommy?” Anna asked, holding her Happy Meal to her chest like it was the most precious thing in the world. Which, to be fair, it probably was, since Sarah did her damnedest not to buy the stupid things.
Sarah watched Sean walk away, relieved that he hadn’t approached. She wasn’t ready to deal with him again today. And she damn sure wasn’t about to get into a pissing contest with him in front of her little girl. She didn’t want Anna to see what Mommy had to deal with at work. She didn’t want her to see that side of her.
Sarah’s heart started beating again as she watched his back as he walked away. But it was a long moment before her mouth formed the words she needed. “No one important, baby.”
Because he wasn’t. Not anymore.
Sarah had never felt like she was being pulled both ends against the middle like she was at that instant. She wasn’t actually sure who she was more irritated with as she had driven on post with Anna in tow, but either way, she’d been given an order and, well, she didn’t really have the option to say no.
She walked into the battalion headquarters, shoving aside her irritation as she saw another friendly face.
Sergeant First Class Reza Iaconelli. He’d damn near ruined the training exercise before her previous deployment, but he was a close friend of Claire’s, which meant she was a friend of his.
Anna ducked into the latrine.
He smiled when he saw her. “Thought you were downrange, ma’am?” he asked by way of greeting.
Sarah’s leg ached at the question. “I was. Got sent home early.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Brigade commander never really got over the Colorado incident.”
His dark skin flushed beneath the fluorescent lights. “Yeah, well, his loss. I thought you were doing a hell of a job.”
Sarah waved a hand dismissively. “How have you been?”
“Good. Sober, so that’s a win, right?” He looked down at her legs. “What’s with the limp?”
“Accident downrange.”
He nodded slowly. “So that’s what brings you to the Death Dealer battalion?” he said, trying to shift the conversation.
“More or less. I’m in the support battalion.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said after a moment. “I know how important command was to you.”
“Thank you.” She swallowed. “Why are you here?”
“Paperwork for the range next week.” Reza shrugged. “What’s got you hanging out after duty hours?”
“Investigating a fight between a lieutenant and a sergeant.”
“Kearney and Smith, huh? Kind of surprised they’ve got you investigating that. It’s pretty cut and dry.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying since I got it. There’s nothing to investigate, honestly.” She didn’t bother to hide her frustration with the case and the entire situation. “LT Smith made some comment about Kearney’s wife; they fought. I’ve literally been in this unit for less than a week, and I’m already getting a feel for how nuts this place is.”
He chuckled. “It’s got some good things about it. The senior leadership is at least aware that they’ve got a serious problem on their hands and are at least willing to address it.”
Sarah lifted one eyebrow. “From what I hear about some of the lieutenants around here, you’ll have to excuse my suspicion on that quarter.”
“Yeah, well, there are some bright spots of give-a-damn.”
“Surrounded by a sea of incompetence?”
“What’s the saying? There are pockets of incompetence in every organization? Well, we’re trying to suppress an outbreak of malfeasance.”
Sarah laughed as Anna came out of the bathroom. It felt good to laugh. “Ready, honey?”
Anna ignored her and looked up at Reza. “Who are you?”
Reza hunkered down to Anna’s level and stuck out his hand. “I’m Reza. I’m a friend of your mommy’s.”
Anna shook it somberly. “I’m Anna. Do you have any kids?”
Reza’s smile darkened just a little. Not so much that Anna would have noticed, but Sarah did. Reza was a man with many demons. Some from the war, some from things Sarah could only guess at. But he responded to her daughter’s question with a gentleness that should have been impossible for a warrior like him.
“No, no kids for me,” he said to Anna.
“Why not?”
But Sarah didn’t have time to stop her daughter’s questions. Major Wilson stepped into the hall. “Any time you’re ready, captain.” Her voice grated down Sarah’s spine, then she disappeared back into her office.
Reza met her gaze as he straightened. “If it makes you feel any better, she was probably potty trained at gunpoint.” His voice was low.
Sarah bit her lips to suppress the laugh that almost snuck out. “I’ll keep that in mind when she’s ripping me a new one.”
“Enjoy.”
Sarah sat Anna down in the command group chairs and prayed she would stay distracted with her dinner. She sucked in a deep breath and held it a moment before she knocked on Wilson’s door. The XO looked up over the rim of surprisingly trendy black-rimmed glasses. The elegant frames did nothing to make her less terrifying. She looked like a female version of the Grinch in designer glasses. “You’re early.”
“Yes, ma’am. Figured it would be bad form to be late twice in one day.” She flushed, the words escaping before she had a chance to engage her mute button. Damn it, this situation did not call for sarcasm.
Wilson arched one brow but said nothing. After a waiting long enough for Sarah to fight the urge to fidget, she pointed toward the seat across from her desk.
Sarah sat, her hands resting on her thighs as she waited.
Wilson finally finished whatever she’d been working on, then turned her attention to Sarah. She felt like a hamster caught in the open beneath the gaze of a hungry cat.
“I don’t have a written counseling for you, Sarah.”
Sarah sat absolutely still. It was kind of like Jurassic Park: the T-Rex could only see you if you moved.
“I’m going to be straightforward with you.” Wilson removed her glasses, setting them on the desk. “Single mothers do not make good officers.”
Sarah’s heart was pounding in her ears. Her palms slicked with sweat against her thighs. Still, she did not move. Wilson’s words settled around her heart like a vise, squeezing slowly.
Sarah breathed deeply through her nose, trying to figure out the right response. At the moment, her options were completely losing her shit or partially losing her shit. Neither one felt like a particularly viable plan of attack.
Wilson, however, did not seem to recognize Sarah’s dilemma.
“Bringing your child to work with you is unprofessional and speaks to a lack of foresight and proper planning on your part.” Wilson never blinked or looked away from Sarah. It was like she was trying to make Sarah flip out. Which, to be fair, was starting to look like a likely course of action. “You were fired from command before setting foot in Iraq. You haven’t deployed since 2003. You’ve been hiding out and avoiding your duty while the rest of the Army has been fighting this war.”
Sarah couldn’t force enough air into her lungs. Denial burned in her lungs. It was a long time before she trusted her voice not to break when she spoke. “Ma’am, I think it’s a little unfair that you’ll judge me on one, my first day here and two, the one time in the last six months my daughter has gotten sick.”
Wilson shook her head slowly. “I’ve been an officer for nearly ten years. Children are never sick only rarely. This week it’s a fever. Next week a school play.” Wilson still didn’t blink. It was really creepy. “I will not tolerate your childcare issues interfering with your duty performance.”
Sarah’s skin was clammy.
She and Jack had always talked about how they would manage both of them having military careers if they ever had kids. It was what she’d loved about him—he’d fully supported her need to be a soldier. He hadn’t asked her to give it up. Hadn’t asked her to choose between the one thing she’d ever been good at and the man she’d fallen in love with. It was heady stuff, leading soldiers.
And for a while, she’d had the love of a good man and had loved her job.
God, but things were so different without him. She’d gotten a taste of what making a difference could do as a commander. And she’d lost it before she’d ever gotten started. Shame burned up her neck at the memory. She almost buckled beneath the pressing sense of loss wrapping around her shoulders.
But Wilson was right. She had been fired. She’d never command again. At this point, she’d be lucky if she got promoted to major. It was a far off dream, out of reach.
“Sarah, the Army isn’t meant for officers who are single mothers. You simply cannot give the same as an officer who has no children or who has a wife at home to take care of these things.”
Sarah forced herself to speak. To retain some shred of dignity and not just sit there, mute and powerless.
“Ma’am, I’ve done everything the Army has ever asked of me. Willingly and with everything I am.” Sarah choked out the words. Her throat was tight and her lungs burned from not getting enough air.
She would not cry in front of this woman.
“Then maybe you should readjust your priorities. Clearly if you’ve been devoting everything to the Army, your child is suffering.”
Sarah pressed her lips together to keep her mouth from falling open. She expected this kind of attitude from a male. Her previous boss had been looking for an excuse to fire her for exactly those reasons. But to hear this from another woman? She’d always had such support from other women, especially since she’d commissioned.
“Mommy?”
They both looked toward the door at the tiny source of the little voice.
Sarah’s heart skipped a beat at the little voice that slipped into the office. Anna peeked around the doorframe, a look of urgent distress twisting her adorable features. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“I have to go potty.”
Any other time, the urgent plea would have been no big deal. “Didn’t you just go?”
“Mommy, I have to poop.”
Sarah’s face flamed red and she was half out of her chair before she realized she hadn’t been dismissed. The Army was the only place in the world where she would ever have to ask permission to take her daughter to the bathroom. She turned back to see a smug look on the major’s face.
“You’re dismissed. I expect you at work as soon as your daughter is well enough to return to daycare.”
Sarah stepped from the office, slipping her hand into Anna’s as she led her daughter down the hall. The anger was sudden and violent and rose up from a primitive place deep inside her.
She didn’t even know how to respond to Wilson’s comments. What could she do? No one would believe her. It was too surreal. Hell, Sarah didn’t even believe what she’d just sat through.
Wilson’s implication that she wasn’t a good mother burned over her skin. Every single minute of her time with Anna was precious to her. She waited for Anna to wash her hands then led her daughter out to the car.
She would be angry later. After Anna was in bed. And the dishes were done. And lunch made.
Maybe by the time she had time to be angry, she’d have forgotten why she was furious to begin with.
* * *
Sleep and Sean hadn’t been friends in a long, long time. Since before the war, he figured. He lay in bed staring at the overhead fan, wishing there was something he could take, something he could do that would banish the insomnia and finally let him sleep. There was no storm tonight, but that didn’t matter because his thoughts were plenty to torment him all on their own.
How the hell had he not known that Sarah had married Jack Anders? Maybe because he’d been busy fighting a war? Not a whole hell of a lot of time to play “show me pictures of your kids” with his fellow lieutenants.
He glanced toward his closet. He knew what was in there. Where the memories lurked. Buried beneath old uniforms no longer authorized for wear was an old shoebox. He didn’t actually want to go hopping down memory lane tonight. Not by a long shot.
But since it was approaching midnight, and he clearly wasn’t going to be heading to sleep any time soon, what the hell else was he going to do?
And tonight was not a night for ignoring memories.
The shoebox was easy enough to find.
He sat, just looking at the tattered brown lid. It was from the first pair of boots he’d bought as an officer candidate at Benning after his first foot march had nearly crippled him. He flipped open the top and was greeted by a stack of postcards maybe an inch thick. The sum of all of his communication with his parents since he’d joined the Army.
He should be honest with himself. The postcards were since he’d left home. His folks had died on his second tour in Iraq, and because Sean had already had mid-tour leave, he hadn’t been allowed to come home for the funeral. Not when they’d been neck deep in the shit in Najaf.
Another one of those choices that his civilian sister just didn’t understand. No one believed military folks when they told them they missed funerals and other serious life events because they’d been stuck in Iraq. He could still hear Cynthia calling him a goddamned liar. Yet another reason why they tolerated each other but had rarely spoken since Mom and Dad had died.
He moved the postcards to one side and pulled out a tiny, pocket-sized photo album. He ran his thumb over the dusty cover.
Fear and something else squeezed his throat.
It was a long time before he lifted the cover.
He swallowed hard at the first photo.
Sarah beamed up at him, her arm around a younger Sean’s waist. Her face had been rounder then, her smile a little more carefree. God, but he’d been skinny back then.
He turned the page. A picture of them tubing down a river, a cooler of beer between them. Sarah smiling up at him when they’d gone to the field together. They’d been in the same unit once upon a time. She’d been a smart-ass private, and he’d been drawn to her even then.
They’d had a good life together. And then he’d come down on orders for Korea. He’d wanted to marry her. Wanted to take her with him.
And she’d said no.
“I’m not going to be that girl, Sean. The one who runs off and marries the first guy who gets her all hot and bothered.”
“Do you realize how fucked up that sounds?” The anger had hidden the hurt that night.
“I don’t want kids, Sean,” she’d said softly. “I don’t want the white picket fence or the golden retriever. I’m not good at any of those things.”
There were no more pictures in the lonely album. Their life together had ended when she’d said no. He sat for what felt like forever, hand over his mouth.
She’d gotten married within two years of leaving him. He had no idea how old the little girl was that he’d seen her with today, but if he had to guess, he’d say five, maybe.
She hadn’t wanted kids. Hadn’t wanted to get married. Sean had wanted all of those things. If she hadn’t gotten married so soon after telling him no, maybe it wouldn’t feel like such a betrayal. Like maybe she’d held on to a small memory of when things had actually been good between them.
They hadn’t broken up immediately after she’d said no. They’d tried to keep things going, but the closer he’d gotten to Korea, the worse things got for them. He started going out without her.
And one morning, he’d come home after a particularly bad weekend in Austin, and Sarah had been gone. She’d packed up her stuff—a fact that made him think she’d already been planning on leaving him—and been gone before he’d dragged his ass home.
He’d gone to Korea and tried to forget about her. Then the war started, and he got too busy to wonder what might have been. He’d lost himself in the adrenaline rush of combat and training, then more training and more combat.
He dragged his hand over his face and rolled over, one arm wrapped around the spare pillow. His eyes drifted closed but all he could see were the images of him and Sarah. Memories blended with the present and reminded him of everything that he’d lost.