Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

D errick was on the second step from the bottom, but Bryan's low, "Dude," had him turning his head to face his older brother. His closest, not just in age but in everything.

Bryan was his best friend. Had been, anyway.

"What?"

"It's just…" He raked a hand over his short hair. "I wanted to tell you. It's been killing me—about the baby and the…husband, but Michael?—"

"Don't." His tight hold on self-control snapped, and he descended so fast that Bryan took a step back. Derrick got in his face. "Michael keeps secrets. It's what he does. It's not what I do. It's not what you do. At least it wasn't."

Bryan blinked. "He told me about it because I was doing that thing for him in Germany. It was a national security?—"

"This has nothing to do with national security. I'm your brother, and you knew…" Emotion—stupid, embarrassing emotion—bubbled up inside. He swallowed, swallowed everything he'd planned to say. "You should have told me."

"He's also my brother." Bryan didn't back down. If anything, he stood taller. "It wasn't my place to tell you. It was Jasmine's."

Derrick looked at the jet's window. Thanks to the bright morning light, he couldn't see inside, but he had a feeling she was watching.

"I guess you had to betray someone. You chose me." He spun and climbed the stairs.

"Derrick."

At the top, he glanced back. Bryan remained on the tarmac, hurt and confusion in his expression. Because Derrick was always the guy to let offenses go. He was always the guy to get over it and move on.

Not this time.

"I'm going to sleep. Try not to crash my plane."

Derrick's heart was pounding, his hands sweating. Stupid. Who cared if he'd just yelled at his brother? Bryan had betrayed him. Derrick owed him nothing.

He aimed for the back, needing space and privacy. But of course his gaze landed on Jasmine before he passed.

She didn't even glance his way as she swiped her fingertips beneath her eyes.

Great. He'd wrecked his relationship with his brother and he'd made the woman he loved cry. And it wasn't even eleven o'clock in the morning.

What a banner-freaking-day this was turning out to be.

He adjusted the cabin temperature, making it a little warmer for his always-chilly… not girlfriend, grabbed two bottles of water, and walked back to her seat, holding one out. "You okay?"

She took it, nodding. "Are you? "

"You remember how to recline the seat?"

"Yes."

"Good." He grabbed a couple of blankets and pillows from a storage bin and handed her one of each. "I'm going to get some rest."

He didn't wait for a response, just made his way to the back and collapsed. He wasn't going to think about it. Any of it.

He shoved the pillow against the window and closed his eyes.

The engine powered up. A few minutes later, Bryan taxied to the runway.

Derrick hadn't realized how angry he was at his brother until he'd heard his voice earlier, and then it all just…rolled over him.

If Bryan had told him Jasmine was married and expecting a kid, then he could have protected himself. He wouldn't have gotten his hopes up. He wouldn't have had such…expectations. He could've guarded his heart.

He should've done that anyway. But he'd always been an all-in guy, especially where relationships were concerned, where people were concerned. He'd been like that with his brothers, trying to fix everything that broke. Everything they broke. It hadn't been Derrick's fault when Grant talked Bryan into going down to the dock at camp so Grant could show off by climbing up the cliff. Derrick hadn't been there when Bryan decided to follow him up. He hadn't been there when Bryan lost his grip and fell onto the rocky ground below.

Derrick had been in bed with a fever. If not for that, maybe he could've stopped it, stopped the whole tragedy from happening.

But he'd been a five-year-old kid.

Sheesh, Grant and Bryan had only been nine and seven.

Derrick could still hear the helicopter that air-lifted Bryan to the hospital. He'd been too young to understand how badly his brother was injured. It had never occurred to him that Bryan might die, though of course he knew now how serious those injuries had been. Bryan had been fortunate to end up with nothing worse than a crushed ankle. He should've been thankful.

But he'd been bitter. It wasn't the fall that'd wrecked their family. It wasn't the helicopter or the hospital stays or the medical bills or the years of physical therapy.

It had been Bryan's bitterness.

The Cessna picked up speed, racing down the runway, then lifted gently off the ground. Derrick watched the earth fall away.

Derrick had tried, back then. God knew he'd tried to fix it. To help. But Bryan had blamed Grant, and as soon as Grant was old enough, he enlisted in the Army, getting as far away from the family as he could. No matter what Derrick did, the brothers had divided—Bryan against Grant, everybody else against Bryan. Derrick had taken Bryan's side not because he was right but because he was alone.

All he'd wanted then, all he'd ever wanted, was for everyone to be at peace. He'd spent his entire life trying to bring harmony to their family.

Finally, all the brothers were friends again. Everybody was happy.

Except Derrick. All that stupid peacemaking had gotten him nothing. Nothing but betrayed.

He reclined the seat until it was practically flat. He hadn't slept all night, and the night before hadn't exactly been restful. His stupid wound was aching. His eyes were scratchy with fatigue.

He tried to get comfortable. But this wasn't where he was supposed to be on his plane. He should be in the cockpit, flying. Or at least in the right-hand seat, acting as Bryan's copilot.

Lord, help me rest. I just need to rest.

But God was silent. Of course. Because why would God give Derrick anything? All he'd done was try to follow Him all his life. Try to keep their family together. Try to be everything to everyone. Why should he deserve rest or peace or…anything?

He punched the leather seat beneath him as if it were to blame for all his troubles.

It's all about everybody else.

Exactly.

His whole life, he'd tried to make everybody but himself happy. That was his problem.

A Bible verse he'd learned when he was a kid popped into his brain. He couldn't remember the whole thing. Something about pleasing men or pleasing God.

Derrick had spent his life trying to please God. There was that whole passage in James about being a peacemaker. Those who sow in peace raise a harvest of righteousness . That one he remembered. It was one of his life verses.

So why didn't he feel like God was pleased?

His goal had always been to make peace, to please God.

Obviously.

Right?

He started counting backward from five hundred, his surefire way to fall asleep. There was nothing more boring than numbers.

But he hadn't gotten past four-ninety when more of that other verse came to him.

For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God…? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ.

Ugh.

Derrick definitely didn't want to think about this.

But now that he was, he had to admit the truth. Maybe he'd spent his life as a peacemaker because he wanted the people around him to like him. To appreciate him. To want to be with him. He wanted peace for himself, not for God. He wanted peace because anything other than peace made him feel…anxious.

And there was a manly admission. He could imagine what his tough-as-nails brothers would say if he ever admitted that.

But the truth was, his peacemaking was and always had been about Derrick.

Not God.

Meaning…he hadn't been behaving as a servant of Christ.

He pressed the button to raise the seat, leaned forward, and dropped his head into his hands. Is that true, Lord? Have I made all of this about me?

The emotion he'd worked so hard to keep at bay leaked from his eyes now. He was too tired for these deep thoughts and deep feelings.

God didn't respond. Derrick had expected a little condemnation, a little Duh, you finally figured it out, you moron.

But that wouldn't be God's voice.

All Derrick felt was a gentle Presence and overwhelming love.

I'm sorry. Forgive me.

And He did. Of course. Always.

Derrick rested in that for a few minutes.

Not that he was over his anger toward Bryan. He'd try, though. He needed to get there.

He would, eventually.

But Jasmine… Lord, what do I do?

He hated the answer.

She was married. He disagreed with her decision to stay married, but what kind of man would he be if he pressured her to divorce? Pressured her to do something she felt in her heart was sin?

That was not the kind of man he was.

Where did that leave him?

How do I please You in this, Lord?

He closed his eyes and waited for the answer. When it came, he accepted it. He didn't like it, but he didn't argue.

It wasn't about him. If he loved Jasmine—and he did, with all his heart—he needed to do what was best for her.

Which meant letting her go.