Chapter 24

I satin the dimly lit medical room, as I’d done since we’d gotten back last night, the soft glow of a reading lamp casting a warm pool of light on the pages of the sweeping highland romance novel I held. The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of medical equipment and the occasional beep of a monitor.

My attention was absorbed by the romance, and I was halfway through a scene where the rugged hero knelt before his stolen English bride after they’d been forced to marry, of course, pledging his undying love while chaos raged around them in the midst of a battle.

I snorted in disbelief. “Really? Who writes this shit? What hero in his right mind would stop in a battle to declare undying love?”

There again, who was I to question love when it had snuck up on me so quickly? Maybe I’d have done the same thing, given all the feelings I had inside for my man.

I turned the book to check the sexy cover depicting a rugged Scottish Highlander, his chiseled features and piercing eyes capturing the essence of a brooding hero. The stolen English bride, adorned in a flowing white gown, looked both vulnerable and determined, clasping a knife to her torn top. Yep. That wasn’t Ryder and me but the passion in the picture was certainly something I understood.

I’d picked up the book from a shelf near the kitchen, searching for something to read until Ryder shook off the anesthetic, and the tale of love and passion amidst the backdrop of battle was about the best I could find that I didn’t have to concentrate on.

I carried on reading. “I love you with all my heart,” I read out the proud Highlander’s words and even tried to add a Scottish brogue, which sounded atrocious. “I will protect you with my life.” I huffed. “Well, shit, he’s not doing a good job if a stray arrow reaches them. Blah blah, stolen bride, torn between loyalty to her people and her love, gazed down at him with conflicted eyes. Blah blah, love and courage conquer all obstacles. The End. Oh, wait there’s an epilogue.” I cleared my throat, but a slight movement and a soft groan from the nearby bed drew my attention. Ryder was waking up, again. I marked the place in the book and set it aside, waiting for Ryder to regain his bearings. Bit by bit, he was returning to the land of the living after the operation to repair lacerations to his abdominal muscles, also fixing where the knife had missed his femoral artery, and the back of his leg, which had been only a hair away from slicing his popliteal tendon.

If Amos hadn’t been dead, I’d have killed him again.

I shuffled the chair closer, and couldn’t help but steal a glance at Ryder, because everything had changed since I’d told him I loved him.

“Hey,” I murmured. “I hope you’re enjoying the story.”

“What about arrows, for fuck’s sake,” he murmured.

“Exactly,” I said, and he attempted to smile. “So, you’re all good. Doc Jen says you’ll be up and about in around three months.” His eyes widened, and I couldn’t help the snort of laughter. “Sorry,” I said, all innocence, “days, three of them, count it.” I held up three fingers.

He narrowed his eyes. “Fucker.”

I placed the book on his bedside table and stood, leaning over to press a kiss to his forehead. “I’m sending Doc in, but I’ll be back, okay? One thing though…” He stared up at me still sleepy and confused. “I love you.”

He smiled. “I love you, too.”

I pressed the call button, met Doc Jen on her way in, and closed the door behind me. Checking my watch, I saw I had ten minutes to fill, and stopping off at my room first, I wandered down to the room where I was meeting the child psychologist, Lizzie, and having time with Annie under her watchful eye. This was day one, step one, minute one,of me and Annie maybe connecting over her dad, and I was more nervous about this than I was about running towards a gun fight. I peered in through the glass panel, middle top, and saw Annie inside, sitting at a table, a ring of animals in tiny chairs—she was having a tea party, Lizzie sitting next to her, pretending to sip from a cup.

I remembered a tea party with Buzzy-Bear, and James there, making me sit with them, telling me the three of them needed a brave SEAL to keep them safe. I recalled smiling, then all of us sitting at a tiny table, and I recalled James staring at me. I rubbed at my chest.

Maybe I could have had something with James? I would never know, and for a moment, I let the grief consume me. Allowed it to run its course, until I could finally breathe again.

Everything seemed so normal in the room, and my fingers dug into my jacket where I was hiding the brown teddy bear that had arrived by courier this morning.

“Hey, August,” Josh called at my side, startling the hell out of me. I hadn’t even heard him come closer, and I staggered back, eyes drawn to the bundle of kitty fluff in his arm. After a moment where I let my heart slow to its normal beat, I reached out to stroke the cat. “This is Oreo,” he said with a smile, and for some reason, Oreo got it into their head that they wanted to jump from Josh and sit on my shoulder. I reached up to settle them.

“We’ve met before, out on the path. What a cute kitty you are,” I said in my best made-up baby voice.

Oreo purred and kneaded my T-shirt.

“Are you okay?” Josh asked.

“Yeah,” I said with fake confidence, and he raised an eyebrow. “No,” I corrected almost immediately.

“You want to talk about it before you go in?”

“I worry that… I mean…” I sighed. “James and I were just pretend.”

“Until you weren’t.”

“It never became more. There wasn’t time for it to be more than friendship. He was pushing for something, but I doubted myself, wondering if I’d ever break the warrior’s curse and find real life and love. But that doesn’t mean…” All the doubts were there, front and center, and in all of it, Oreo purred in my ear and settled around my neck, sharp claws digging into my skin every so often to remind me of their presence.

“You’re a good man, August, that’s all you need to remember.” Josh reached up for the cat, disentangling claws from my shirt, then patted my shoulder. “Good luck.” With that, he and Oreo departed, and I wished I was going as well because there was something so calm about Josh—I could see what Ethan saw in him, knew Cap was happy with his man and their son, Ben.

I thought I wanted that.

Family.

I thought I could have that.

I checked my watch, ten a.m., and then, knocked on the door. Lizzie glanced up and gestured for me to come in. Steeling myself for a world of hurt and rejection, I forced a smile on my face and stepped inside.

Annie glanced up at me, then back at her table, all set out with miniature cups and saucers, even a tiny sugar bowl with fake lumps, and a bright purple teapot.

“I don’t like this,” she mumbled, and poked at the saucer in front of her.

In that moment, my heart sank. I’d tried to prepare for a myriad of reactions from Annie, but her initial teary-eyed response caught me off guard. Had I done something wrong? I glanced at my empty hand, as if I could sense blood there, and for a moment my breath hitched, and I took a step back.

“Annie, why don’t you like this?” Lizzie asked, holding up her hand to stop me leaving. Guilt grew like a stone in my chest, thinking maybe I’d done something wrong or me being here was too overwhelming for her.

“It’s missing,” Annie announced, and she picked up the saucer and dropped it to the floor.

“Your cup for that one?” Lizzie asked and shuffled back a little so I could get closer. I went to my ass on the carpet, crossing my legs, making myself as small as I could. The source of her unhappiness wasn’t me, but the missing cup in the tea set.

Relief flooded me.

“It’s okay, Annie,” I reassured her, clearing my throat because my voice was catching. “I can help you find that missing cup. We’ll make sure your tea party is just right.”

She glanced up at me and stared, and for a moment, I wondered if she knew me. But then, she looked away and, together, we went through a toy box until, with triumph, I found the cup and passed it to her. She only relaxed when the cup and its retrieved saucer were placed in position with great care.

“Cake?” She handed me a plate of plastic cake. I took a piece and made a show of eating the slice, and she giggled.

“Who are your friends?” I asked and pointed to the lime green stuffie on her left.

“Apple,” she said and patted the circular fruit on its head. “Benny.” She pointed to a doll with its hair in bunches the same as hers. Then, she at some kind of fake copycat of Barney the Dinosaur. “Amos,” she said and frowned. I glanced up at Lizzie, who was leaning by the door, and she nodded at my concern.

“I like your friends,” I murmured. “I have a friend too; can he sit here as well?” I asked, as Annie poured me a cup of tea.

“Sure,” she said and checked around me to see who my friend might be. I reached into my jacket where I’d hidden Buzzy-Bear and held him out to her.

“Here he is.”

She blinked at me, and ignored the bear for a while, and I found myself at a loss for how to connect with her. She was cautious, and I watched as she played with the tea set, her bright blue gaze, eyes so like James’s, scanning the room and checking in with me. She was uncertain, as if she was trying to make sense of who I was and what my role in her life would be. It was understandable, given the circumstances, and then, with a wrinkled nose, she removed Amos-the-dinosaur off his chair and tossed him behind her, then picked up Buzzy-Bear from where he was waiting, and sat him there instead.

“Hi, Buzzy-Bear,” she said and stroked his soft fur. Relief and gratitude collided—that I had the opportunity to be with her was intense, but there was also this sense of responsibility, and I knew I’d die before anyone hurt her again.

As the single minutes spun and turned into ten, then twenty, a small glimmer of hope began to emerge. Annie’s cautiousness gave way to curiosity, and she tentatively started to include Buzzy-Bear, and then me, in her playtime. We played house, we played jigsaws, we talked about princesses, and we talked about families, and at the end of it—god knows how long I’d been in the room unable to hug her—she crawled into my lap, tired but happy, with Buzzy-Bear in her arms and we showed her the photo that we’d taken of me, her, and James.

“Gust is here,” she murmured, and my heart broke at the familiar name she’d had for me, then she pointed at the photo. “Buzzy-Bear and Gust. I miss Daddy.”