Chapter 2

2

Eight years earlier

… Jenna opened the box and fingered through the envelopes. Jeremy and Heath had kept their word. No matter where they were deployed, they answered her letters. Jeremy decided he’d had enough of military life and chose not to re-up for another tour. Heath, having gone to officer school years earlier, had another three months. He wanted to be stateside doing something besides strategizing which troops to move where. Her brother would be coming home in six weeks, and she was already planning a party.

The last time Jeremy and Heath had leave together was for her graduation from college. She missed them both and knew she would sleep better, and that her mother would finally relax, when Jeremy and Heath were home for good.

She heard the knock on the door and peeked out into the hallway. Her mother stood with the door open. Jenna’s feet moved toward the door and the two men standing outside. But she couldn’t hear their words through the roaring in her head. One was dressed in military blues, a uniform soldiers wear when on official business. The other wore a priest’s collar. Jenna stared at the lips of the man with a white hat and gold coils over his shoulders.

We regret to inform you…

No!

Jenna shouted, but the words didn’t escape her lips. When Heath’s grandfather passed, Heath made sure that Moira and Jenna and Jeremy were listed as his next of kin to be notified should anything happen to him. Jeremy was coming home in thirty-nine days. Heath in eighty-five. They had been in hot spots, seen action, and spent countless “boring” days on base or standing guard. Maybe the officer in charge got the wrong dog tags. Maybe the paperwork got mixed up in the long chain of command in the military.

Behind the men on the front porch, Jeremy’s jeep pulled to the curb. Tears streamed down Jenna’s cheeks.

Heath… no!

…that your son, Jeremy White, was killed in action…

The driver’s side door of the Jeep opened, and Heath slid out. His left arm rested in a sling and bandages marked his left temple and cheek. Leaving the door open, the keys in the ignition, his duffle in the back, he limped toward the open door of the White residence.

Son of a bitch

, he thought. The Casualty Assistance Calls Officer and chaplain arrived before he did. He didn’t want Moira and Jenna to hear of Jeremy’s… death… from anyone but him.

Heath read Moira’s expression. The shock, disbelief, anger matched his own. In moments when he was alone in the hospital, the tears matched hers, too. He caught movement behind Moira. A flash of long, dark hair, an expression of relief and longing and confusion. He planted his feet as Jenna squeezed past her mother and launched herself at him. Wincing as he shifted his injured arm, he wrapped his other one around Jenna, closed his eyes, and held on.

“I’m sorry, Jenna. I’m so fucking sorry. I couldn’t save him. It happened so fast… I failed you, failed Jeremy and Moira.”

“Heath, you’re alive. You’re here. You’re okay. You’re not dead.”

Jenna took a moment to breathe him in, for her body to register that Heath was alive, to feel the familiar strength of his arm around her, the beat of his heart under her ear.

Heath drew in his first real breath since the insurgents ambushed them on patrol three days ago. They had cover from the machine gun fire, but nothing besides new coordinates could have kept them safe from the mortar rounds. If Jeremy hadn’t shoved him aside, Heath would have been buried under dirt and rocks. And if Jeremy, his best friend, his brother in all the ways that mattered, hadn’t scrambled out of cover to retrieve the radio from the soldier who had stood two feet away from the exploding shell, then Heath could have saved Jeremy. But because he’d protected Heath, had traded his life for those in his Unit, Jeremy would be remembered as a hero. Heath would rather have Jeremy alive than hang a medal on his headstone.

He eased back enough to look into Jenna’s eyes. Shimmering with tears, more tears sliding down her cheeks—too many to wipe away—he searched for accusation and condemnation.

With trembling hands, Jenna gently stroked the sides of Heath’s face. He was hurt, but walking and alive. The roaring in her ears subsided. She’d heard his words, felt his body shake with the soul-deep admission and shame that he had failed.

Jenna kissed him on the forehead and swallowed a sob. When she once again held his gaze, she said, “You didn’t fail anyone, Heath. Those fucking terrorists failed humanity. I don’t blame you. Don’t ever think that this… that this is your fault. It’s not.”

Her features became wavy.

He’d cried alone in his hospital room when he read the list of soldiers hospitalized and KIA from his Unit, those under his command. But it was the hollowness in the center of his chest—one he didn’t believe would ever go away—knowing that he would never again see Jeremy smile or hear him sing or give him shit because Heath always warned Jenna when Jeremy set a prank. He blinked away the tears. He’d had three days to deal with Jeremy’s death. Jenna and Moira would need him. Maybe they would all need each other until the grief lessened.

Heath glanced from Jenna to Moira, who held her hand out towards him.

“Oh, Heath…” Moira stepped past the men in uniform.

Just as she’d done on the day he and Jeremy left for boot camp, she gently cradled his face in her palms. “You’re hurt.”

“I’ll be fine. Moira, I’m so sorry. Jeremy…” Heath paused to swallow, then shifted his gaze to include Jenna, who remained within the circle of his good arm. “He saved my life. Saved the lives of the men on patrol that day. You and Jerry… you raised a hero.” The tears on her face, the face of the woman who was a second mother to him, choked his throat with emotion. “If I could, I would trade places—”

“No!” Moira said. With a softer voice but with no less emotion, she repeated, “No. Don’t you dare wish to take Jeremy’s place.”

“He’s your son—”

“And when, in the last fifteen years, did I ever give you the impression that you are not mine as well?”

Heath opened and closed his mouth. Finally, he just gave a slight shake of his head.

Moira kissed his cheek, then said, “Come inside. It brings me comfort to know you’re here for…” she gestured toward the waiting military officers.

Jenna made coffee. She joined her mother and Heath on the couch as the officer explained what the military knew of the tragedy that cost Jeremy his life. The chaplain offered a prayer and said he would return should they have need of spiritual guidance during this terrible time. Moira showed the officers out. Jenna leaned into Heath, and he soothed her the way he always had.