Valiant Defender Page 11

  He’d probably forget what he’d seen before he left the cafeteria. And why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t uncommon for military comrades to pat one another on the arm or shoulder. Hugs and back claps weren’t unheard-of, and offering support was common even among airmen of differing genders.

  But gossip ran rampant on military bases, and Gretchen didn’t want to be fodder for the rumor mill.

  She stepped away, nearly running to the table. She grabbed a napkin and two of the treats, but didn’t bother trying to pour juice into a cup. Her left arm ached, and she doubted she could coordinate the movement without help. She wasn’t going to ask any lower-ranking airman, and she wasn’t going to ask Justin.

  “I’m heading into the office,” she announced a little too loudly, and then she nearly sprinted out the door and up the stairs. It might have been childish to run away, but the alternative was sticking it out and faking comfort in what had become an uncomfortable situation. Not because of anything Justin had done, but because of her own traitorous heart.

  As much as she wanted to deny it, to protest it, she had to face the truth: she was attracted to Justin Blackwood.

  But it—they—could never be.

  “Get your act together, Hill,” she muttered, dropping into her desk chair and turning on her computer. Writing reports was her least favorite part of the job, but right now, it was the perfect excuse to keep her head in the game and off the blue-eyed captain.

  EIGHT

  The sanctuary was silent when Justin walked into Canyon Christian Church. Not surprising. He was a half hour early, his dress shoes spit polished and squeaking as he walked to the front of the church and took a seat in a pew. He hadn’t slept well the last few nights, and he’d been up before dawn, following his Sunday morning routine, hoping that Boyd would make the mistake of coming after him. He was prepared for it, even praying for it, as he’d run his normal five-mile route and sat on the front porch with his coffee.

  Daring Boyd.

  Taunting him the way Boyd had taunted the team.

  But, of course, Boyd hadn’t shown up, and Justin had finally given up and showered. During the months that Portia had been living with him, he’d gotten into the habit of making a hot breakfast before church. It was the one morning they were both free. No school. No work. No obligations other than to themselves.

  With Portia gone, there’d been no reason to cook, and he’d found himself with a little too much time on his hands. The house was empty without Portia. No music drifting from her room. No muffled complaints as she picked through the clothes in her closet or attempted to style her hair.

  He hadn’t realized how much those things had filled the house and made it into a home.

  “I guess I’m not the only one who couldn’t sleep.” Gretchen’s voice echoed in the empty space, and Justin turned, surprised and pleased to see her walking up the aisle. She wore a dress. Light blue and soft looking, it clung to her slender curves and fell just past her knees. No high heels. No makeup. She was beautiful, and he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t noticed before.

  He’d seen her at church many times.

  He’d seen her on base, wearing jeans and sweaters or running gear. Always with perfect skin and dark lashes and a half smile on her face, but all he’d noticed was Gretchen. The woman he worked with, partnered with, brainstormed with.

  She wasn’t smiling now.

  She looked tired and a little unsure. That surprised him. From the day she’d arrived on base, Gretchen had been confident and filled with energy. She threw herself into her work, never seeming to doubt her abilities.

  She slid into the pew beside him, setting her Bible next to her hip.

  “You miss Portia,” she said before he could offer a greeting.

  “The house is too quiet without her.”

  “I’m sure. I remember when I finally moved into my own place. It was difficult getting used to the silence. Even when it was just me and my parents at home, there’d been noise and people to fill the emptiness. They entertained a lot, and it always seemed like we had someone staying at our place. Then, suddenly, I was on my own, coming home to a house that no one was in, and it felt very empty and lonely,” she said as she tried to shrug out of her jacket. It caught on her bandaged arm, and he helped her, tugging gently until she was free.

  “You mentioned four brothers the night you were shot. Your parents’ home must have been really busy.”

  “First of all, I was grazed by a bullet. Not shot,” she corrected.

  He nodded, conceding the point. “How’s the arm?”

  “You’ve asked me that a hundred times since the incident, Justin. My answer remains the same. It’s fine.” She touched her arm. The sleeve of her dress covered the bandage, but he could see it bulging beneath the fabric. “And you’re right. The houses I grew up in were loud. My brothers were nearly teenagers by the time I came along. They always had friends over and they kept my parents on their toes. It was a fun childhood. Loud, busy and crazy. But fun. Especially with the Ping-Pong table in the basement and a rock climbing wall in our backyard.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “About the rock climbing wall? Nope. It’s still there. My nephews and nieces love it.” She dug into her purse and pulled out her phone, scrolling through until she found a photo she wanted to show him. “See?”

  She handed him the phone, her cool fingers sliding across his warmer ones, and he wanted to capture her hand, look into her eyes, ask her what was wrong. Because something was.

  He studied the photo—three kids and an older gentleman standing near a rock wall. All of them smiling. One of the girls looked like Gretchen—dark hair, dark eyes, slim body and wide smile.

  “She looks like you,” he commented, handing the phone back.

  “She’s my oldest brother’s kid, and he always says she looks and acts just like me. He especially says it when she’s getting into trouble. Which she apparently does often.” She smiled, dropping the phone into her purse. “She’s nine. I keep telling him it’s the age and the fact that she has three older brothers.”

  “Lots of boys in your family.”

  “Yes. I was the first girl in three generations on my dad’s side. There were major celebrations when I was born. Followed by major disappointment when my grandmother realized I was a tomboy.”

  “Was your mother disappointed?”

  “No. My mother has always given me a hundred percent support in my choices. As long as they aren’t illegal or immoral, she’s happy.”

  “It sounds like you have a great family.”

  “I do. I’ve been missing them a lot lately.”

  “Are they back in Minot?”

  “Upstate New York. My parents grew up there, and after I was born, they bought a house near his parents. My dad was an MP for most of his air force career. We moved a lot, and he and my mom wanted us to have a home base. For a while, it was just a place to stay when we were visiting family. Now it’s their year-round home. Henry and I—” She frowned. “Sorry. Not work-appropriate conversation.”

  “We’re not at work.”

  “But we’re coworkers, Justin.”

  “Is that what this is about?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Whatever is bothering you.”

  “Who said something was?”

  “We’ve worked together for months, Gretchen. We’ve spent hundreds of hours together. I know you.”

  “You know Captain Gretchen Hill. There’s a difference.” She crossed her arms over her stomach and stared at the front of the church. If she hoped the pastor would appear and begin the service, she was going to be disappointed. They were still twenty minutes from the start of the service. People would begin trickling in soon. Until then, Justin and Gretchen were alone, and he wasn’t planning to stop asking questions. Tension was never good for a team, and
unspoken issues had a way of festering.

  “You are Captain Gretchen Hill. I may not know the private details of your life, but I know that you like your coffee black and your work station neat. I also know that you run every morning and have a fondness for sweets and french fries. You’re a straight shooter. Which I like. You’re tough. You don’t put up with fools. You don’t party on the weekends, and you’re wondering if you want to keep working as an MP or if you’re ready to leave the military and do something different.”

  She met his eyes and frowned. “Who told you that?”

  “Which part?”

  “The part about me wondering if I should leave the military.”

  “No one.”

  “Then why would you say it?”

  “Am I wrong?”

  She shrugged, the fabric of her dress pulling taut across her narrow shoulders.

  “So, I’m right,” he pressed, because he wanted to know. If Gretchen was struggling with making the decision, if she was struggling with the job, if she felt life was passing while she worked a job she no longer loved, he wanted to help her figure things out, come up with a plan, create a future that she could be happy with.

  “Why does it matter, Justin? I’m going back to Minot in a few weeks. We’ll both move on with our lives, and whatever I decide to do, it won’t matter to you one way or another.”

  For some reason, her blunt and truthful statement rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t bother hiding his irritation.

  “If you think that, you don’t know me very well.”

  “That’s the point. We don’t know each other. We have a working relationship, and that’s all either of us wants.”

  “I don’t recall being asked if that’s what I want.” He was irritated by her assumptions. That he didn’t care deeply about the people he worked with. That he wouldn’t bother following up and keeping in contact with them. That he’d never be interested in more than a professional relationship with someone like her.

  She was intelligent, funny and driven. She worked harder than just about any MP he knew. There wasn’t anyone on the team who didn’t enjoy spending time with her. Male. Female. K-9. She was charismatic without trying, drawing people to her without effort.

  A person would have to be blind not to notice.

  He wasn’t blind. He wasn’t hard-hearted. He wasn’t so consumed by work that he didn’t think about long-term relationships. If he were a different kind of person, with a different kind of background, he’d absolutely be thinking about Gretchen in more than a professional way. There was no military rule about dating someone of the same rank, and he knew plenty of men and women who had done it, fallen in love and gotten married.

  Happily-ever-after happened. Even in the military.

  It just wasn’t going to happen for him.

  “I wasn’t trying to be rude, Justin. I’m just being...practical,” she said, smoothing her dress over her thighs, her fingers trembling.

  “You’re nervous,” he said, lifting her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. He should have released it immediately, but they were side by side, inches away from one another, and he could see the confusion and fear in her eyes. “Why?”

  “This has never happened before,” she replied.

  “Nothing has happened.”

  “Not to you,” she muttered.

  “Not to either of us. We’re sitting in an empty church having a conversation about your decision to leave the military or continue in it.”

  “I haven’t even spoken to my family about that.” She slipped her hand from his. “It’s not something I’m ready to share.”

  “I’d think with a family like yours, you could share anything,” he said, thinking about that picture—the obviously happy kids and their grandfather. No bruised cheeks. No tears. No angry scowls. They were what he’d wanted to be when he was a kid.

  “In theory, yes. I should be able to share anything. But I come from a long line of military heroes. My father served as an MP for thirty years before he retired. My older brothers are all career military. My grandfather was. My grandmother was a navy nurse. The list goes on.”

  “I don’t know your family, but I doubt they’re going to boot you out of the fold if you decide you’ve had enough of military life.”

  “They won’t. I just don’t want to disappoint anyone. Especially not myself. The thing is, I always wanted to be an MP, to follow in my father’s and brothers’ footsteps. My mother was a teacher, and that seemed so boring in comparison that I stood on a chair at my ninth birthday party and announced that I planned to follow in my father’s footsteps. I even put my hand on my heart.” She smiled at the memory. “My father has the video of it.”

  He laughed, imagining her as a child earnestly insisting that she was going into the military. “I’d like to see that one day.”

  “Trust me, if you ever meet him, that’ll be the first thing he drags out. Anyway, I made the announcement, and I never stopped believing it was going to happen. I had it in my mind that I was going to join the military and spend my life devoted to being the best MP I could. Then I met Henry in basic training, and everything changed. Suddenly, I wasn’t just thinking about a career, I was thinking about a family. Kids. All the stuff that was difficult when I was growing up in a military family.”

  “You wanted something different?” he asked, and she nodded.

  “I wanted my kids to have friends that they didn’t leave every few years, and a mom who wasn’t away more than she was home. Henry and I had everything planned out, and I had a whole timeline worked out in my head, and then he was diagnosed with cancer.”

  “That had to be devastating for both of you.”

  “I think I was more heartbroken than he was. He had this unbelievable faith that God was in control, and that he had nothing to worry about. He died a few weeks before our wedding, and I still haven’t figured out what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

  The door at the rear of the sanctuary opened, and a group of parishioners walked in, laughing and talking as they made their way into the church.

  He wanted to continue the conversation, but Gretchen seemed finished, her focus on the empty pulpit, her hands fisted in her lap.

  Whatever boundary she’d set for their relationship, she seemed to think she’d crossed it. Her muscles looked so tense he thought they’d snap if she tried to move.

  “Relax,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m not the enemy, and I’m not going to use your secrets against you.”

  “You shouldn’t know my secrets,” she hissed. “I’m not even sure why I told you any of that.”

  “Because we’re friends?”

  She met his eyes. “We are, Justin, and I really value that. So let’s try not to ruin things.”

  He would have asked what she meant, but the sanctuary was filling now, and Pastor Harmon appeared, walking through a doorway to the left. He waved at Justin and Gretchen, hurrying toward them and offering a greeting.

  “How are you, Gretchen? Is the arm healing up?”

  “It’s nearly good as new, Pastor,” she responded, and he smiled.

  “Good. That’s what I like to hear. And how about Portia, Justin? I heard she’s been taken off base.”

  “She’s in a safe location until Boyd Sullivan is caught.”

  “Poor kid. I know she’s had quite an adjustment this past year. Is she okay? Is there anything my wife and I can do for her?”

  “Just pray for her. I know she’d appreciate it.”

  “Of course, and if you need anything while she’s gone, let us know. I’m sure the house is quiet without her in it.”

  “It is,” he agreed, imagining going home after church to the emptiness. Making lunch without her sitting at the table. Spending a long day alone.

  Which was something he’d done hundreds of times bef
ore.

  It felt different now. It felt like a loss.

  “My wife and I always have room at the table for a few friends. Why don’t the two of you have lunch with us?” Pastor Harmon said as if he’d read Justin’s mind.

  “As much as I appreciate the offer,” Justin said, “I think it would be safer for your family if I stayed away.”

  “Safer...? Oh. Right. Boyd. Don’t worry about him, Justin. God is in control, and we trust His divine protection.”

  “I’d still feel better staying away, Pastor.”

  “And I’d feel better knowing that you weren’t going home to an empty house,” Pastor Harmon responded.

  “I’ve gone home to an empty house hundreds of times. I’ll be fine.”

  “How about you, Gretchen? We’d love to have you.”

  “I’ll have to take a rain check, too. I have some work that needs to be done at my apartment, and today is the only day I have free.”

  “What kind of work?” Justin asked as the pastor stepped up to the pulpit.

  “My mother sent me the supplies to make four hundred wedding favors for my brother’s wedding.”

  “Wedding favors?”

  “Yeah. The cheap little gifts the bride and groom give to their guests?”

  He laughed at the description. “Sounds like something everyone wants to go home with.”

  “I think half the guests leave them behind, but it’s a tradition, and since it’s not my wedding, I’m not going to argue with it.”

  “So, your brother is having four hundred guests, and you’re making a gift for each of them? That sounds like a lot of work. When’s the wedding?”

  “New Year’s Eve.”

  “That’s right around the corner.”

  “Yeah. I know. The wedding favors are jars of candy kisses. Each one has to have a personalized note attached that reads ‘Hugs and Kisses from the Mr. and Mrs.’”

  He laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “That’s...”