Cindy Gerard - The Way Home

“I thought maybe he wouldn’t reup after that. He was in the hospital for a couple of weeks and in rehab for three months. Didn’t slow him down, though, and he’d found his niche. I tried to talk him out of it, but he applied for Airborne and then Ranger School—made both cuts with flying colors. I’d joined him at Bragg by then. Shortly after, he ended up back in Iraq.”

“Those had to have been difficult times.”

She ran the corner of the towel over her face. “Yeah. They were. But I was young and in love, and while I didn’t like his decisions, I supported them. It wasn’t like I hadn’t known being an Army wife would be tough, but I hadn’t been prepared for the loneliness and isolation. Or the fear. Always the fear that something would happen to him.”

She sifted a handful of sand through her fingers and watched it fall back to the beach.

“I didn’t even know he’d put in a request to apply for Special Forces. He’d been in training almost two years by the time I found out that he’d been fast-tracked through the system. He’d barely made it home from Iraq, and he was deployed to Afghanistan.”

And never came home.

“I don’t think anyone gives enough credence to how difficult it is for the wives and families,” Ty said quietly. “The long deployments. And with spec ops, never knowing where they are, how they are. Anyway, I know it was hard on my folks when Mike was deployed to parts unknown.”

“And you don’t think they worried about you?”

“Of course, they worried, but he was in combat. I was—”

“Flying through fire with a target on your back.”

He shrugged. “Like I said. Everyone had a job to do.”

And his career had been cut short so he couldn’t continue to do his. She had questions. She held up a fist. He gave her a crooked grin and did the same. She made scissors again. He made paper.

“Scissors cuts paper. My turn.”

“OK, shoot.”

She wanted to know about his back, but she had a bigger curiosity. “Will you tell me about Maya?”

MAYA WAS ONE OF THOSE people who kept showing up in my life, you know?” Ty rolled to his side, propping his upper body on an elbow. “I met her in college, and we dated but drifted apart. I ran into her again when I was stationed in San Diego. We saw each other on and off but nothing serious. Again, we drifted. Then that winter? About a month after I met you? She showed up in Key West on vacation with a girlfriend. Had no idea I was there. And it was, I don’t know. It was like we both stood back and took stock and realized we had so much in common—and then there was this fate thing, karma, kismet, whatever you want to call it, that kept putting us together.”

He stopped. Swiped a hand over his jaw. “I don’t want to minimize what she and I had, so please don’t take this wrong. But it was kind of a right place, right time situation. She’d recently gotten out of a bad relationship. And frankly, you were on my mind. But the logistics—as you said—they didn’t compute on paper. I was looking for a reason not to contact you. And there was Maya. My reason.”

Another deep breath.

“That sounded horrible. It sounded as though I used her as a stopgap, and that is totally not the case. I loved her. I realized I’d probably always loved her to some degree. And she felt the same. So we decided to give it a try. And it was great. She was so… vital. Beautiful, intelligent. One of the most positive people I’ve ever known.”

He missed her. He would probably always miss her, and thinking of her now made him realize how tragically unfair life was.

“What happened to her?”

“She had a brain bleed.”

“Oh, my God. An aneurism?”

“Yeah. It was a shock. To say the least. She was the picture of health. Active. Took care of herself.” He stopped, looked out over the water, still having trouble believing that a vital, beautiful woman had been there one day and was gone the next. “She woke up that morning with a headache. We’d only been together four months. She’d started a new job. I had a big charter that day. She told me to go. Assured me she would be fine. I got home that night and found her.”

“Oh, Ty. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, too. She was an amazing woman. She died way too soon.” He met her eyes and saw a world of compassion there. “They both did.”

THE WIND HAD picked up a bit and pushed against them all the way back to the resort, so it was close to eight that evening by the time they made their way back across the lake. Jess worried about Ty’s back, but she didn’t say anything, and he didn’t, either. She felt both relief and an encroaching sense of loss when they finally reached the resort. Despite what had been a bit of a bloodletting for both of them when they’d opened up to each other about J.R. and Maya, she’d enjoyed the day. She’d enjoyed him.

Shelley greeted them with a smile and a wave when they beached the kayaks. “I’d started to think I might need to send out a search party.”

“She gave me a workout,” Ty said good-naturedly, as the bottom of his kayak skidded against the small, sandy beach. “Yet she tells me we only saw a small part of the lake.”

“Big lake,” Shelley agreed. “Where’d you go, Jess?”

Ty reached out and steadied her kayak when she stood. “Other side of Sugarbush—that little houseboat put in on the north shore.”

“Yikes. You did give him a workout. Figured as much. And to that end, I thought you might be hungry. Since you don’t seem inclined to use that nice new fishing pole you bought, Mr. Brown, I thought you should at least get a taste of what you’re missing. There’s a platter of walleye keeping warm in your oven and a salad in the fridge. Hope you don’t mind that I invaded your space.”

“Are you kidding me?” Despite the wobbly kayak, he made his dismount look easy, although Jess noticed, again, that he had a little difficulty straightening up. “That sounds great. Thanks. And it’s Ty.”

“OK. Ty. As long as we’re on a first-name basis, do me a favor. Don’t let Jess leave without eating. I know her. She’ll go back to that store, start working, and forget to fix any supper.”

“Consider her fed. I won’t let her out of my sight until she eats.”

After helping Jess unload their gear, he dragged his kayak out of the water and flipped it upside down on the grass, then went back after Jess’s.

“Why is everyone under the impression that I need a keeper?” Jess protested as she grabbed her dry bags.

“Not a keeper, sweetie.”

Jess didn’t miss the grin Shelley shared with Ty.

“Just a gentle reminder that you need to take better care of yourself.”

Jess made a harrumphing sound, but when she met Shelley on the grass, she gave her a one-armed hug. “OK, Mom.”

THE LAKE HAD shifted to a smoky blue platinum by the time they’d finished Shelley’s delicious meal and half of the bottle of wine she’d left open and breathing on the table along with a bunch of wildflowers.