8. Marcus

8

MARCUS

T he history between River and Bella is obvious. It doesn't bother me, although the tension in the room right now is enough to make me wish I were anywhere else. But hey, that's not possible, so we'll just have to all agree to coexist. I had invited River out just for the night. We were both supposed to leave this morning, but he…was having a hard time with things. His PTSD was back with a vengeance, and I hadn’t felt right hurrying us back home. Then the snow had started, and we both realized we wouldn’t be going anywhere.

I wasn’t honestly sure how Bella had even managed to get up to the cabin in the growing storm. I had said as much to her after I explained why we were both still in residence, but she had just rolled her eyes at me. I loved that she was so feisty, but it also meant she clearly felt we were imposing on her by staying in the warm cabin to wait out the storm.

"I'll look through the rest of this place myself," says Bella curtly to me. Oof. "Please excuse me."

It takes me significant effort to swallow the smile rising to my lips. She's already annoyed. I don't want to infuriate her.

"Sure," I say. "Have at it. Take your time, Bella. I'll wait here." I give her a small smile and nod.

She hesitates for a second, returns the smile briefly, then turns and walks away. I watch her go, the sway of her hips hypnotic, the sunlight turning her hair into a halo. Damn, she's beautiful. Even more so than eight years ago.

"So, you want to talk about it?" I ask the lump of stone beside me.

"No," he replies tersely. "Not today."

"As you wish, man." I laugh, slapping him once more because River is someone I can annoy without worrying about the consequences.

He gives me a heavy scowl and mutters something about my being an old asshole before disappearing. I let him go. He'll be fine. He'll talk about it when he's ready.

From where I'm standing, Bella's silhouette is visible as she examines the snow falling from the windows in the study.

I shake my head, chuckling to myself. Marcus, you old dog, stop drooling. She's way out of your league. Always was, always will be .

Not that I'm looking to start anything. I learned my lesson with my wife—although she kept telling me I had to find love again and that I shouldn't spend the rest of my life alone. She also said if I refused to find someone, she'd return as a ghost and haunt me at night. It's been four years. I'm still waiting for her ghost. I've looked for her everywhere, from the hospice center to my bedroom to the very recesses of my heart. If she’s here, she's a hell of a shy one.

My throat feels heavy all of a sudden.

"You shouldn't have left me like you did," I mutter angrily at the wind roaring outside. Thick snowfall blankets everything but offers no mercy. It falls relentlessly. I move to the next room, a tiny little entertainment area complete with a sofa in front of a television and a fireplace.

"May as well warm this place up a little," I intone. I start a small fire and drop down on an ottoman in front of it, staring moodily at the crackling, crisp golden flames. So many memories…too many of them. In fact, I'd made peace with the idea that I'd live all alone with my thoughts until I grew old and died. Life has become simple these days, with just a bit of back and forth from the barn and garden and the cabin. I make what I need, I'm a reasonably good cook, and I prefer to stay out of trouble.

Sarah was the only one who teased that side out of me. Both army brats, we had met at a party when we were just nineteen.

The flames dance in front of me, casting shadows that flicker and twist on the walls of the old cabin. Outside, the snowstorm howls like a pack of wolves, but in here, it's just me, the fire, and my memories. The bitter wind outside has nothing on the chill in my heart. I pull my worn leather jacket tighter around me and stare into the fire, letting the past wash over me.

The party I met Sarah at was one of those rowdy affairs where the testosterone levels were through the roof and the alcohol flowed like water. She stood out like a goddess in the midst of all the grunts and camouflage. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smile that could melt the Antarctic. I had swaggered up to her, full of misplaced bravado.

"Hey there, I must have lost my number. Can I have yours?" I had said, flashing what I thought was a winning smile.

She had laughed, a sound that would haunt my dreams in the best way possible for the rest of my life. "That's the best you've got, Soldier? You need to work on your lines."

"Lines are for amateurs. I prefer the direct approach," I shot back, raising an eyebrow.

From that moment on, we were inseparable. We danced, we laughed, we made every moment count. And when she said yes to my proposal, I felt like I'd won the lottery.

Years passed, the best years of my life. But life, as it often does, had other plans. Sarah was diagnosed with cancer. We fought it, she fought it, and we thought we had won. But cancer is a tricky bastard, always lurking, waiting for its chance.

I was deployed when she found out it was back. I got the news through a letter, the old-fashioned way. It was like being punched in the gut by a heavyweight champion. I tried everything to get back, but duty called, and red tape is thicker than blood.

By the time I returned, she was almost gone. The house felt empty, like a shell of its former self. I found her in our bedroom, frail but still smiling. Always smiling.

"You look like hell, soldier," she said, her voice weak but playful.

"I could say the same for you, but I don't want to be a liar," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

She laughed, then winced. "Don't make me laugh. It hurts."

"Sorry, but you know I can't help it," I said, sitting beside her, holding her hand. "I'm back now. I'll make it all better."

"You always think you can fix everything," she whispered, squeezing my hand. "But this isn't one of those things. Promise me something?"

"Anything," I said, my throat tight.

"Promise me you'll find someone else. Someone to share this long, stupid life with," she said, her eyes boring into mine.

"You're it for me, Sarah. There's no one else," I said, my voice cracking.

"Stop being an idiot. Life's too short. Promise me," she insisted.

I nodded, tears I didn't know were in my eyes spilling over. "I promise."

She smiled a small, contented smile, and closed her eyes. That was the last time I saw her smile.

Now, as I sit here in front of the fire, I can't help but chuckle bitterly. Find someone else , she had said, as if there could ever be anyone else like her. I didn't think it would be remotely possible, nor did I believe I'd succumb to something like an instant attraction.

If Sarah were looking down on me from heaven, she'd tell me I was on the right track and to make sure I didn't scare Isabella away with too many army jokes. I chuckle slightly and lift my glass to the flames. "To you, Sarah. The only one who ever made me feel alive." I take a long drink, the burn in my throat a welcome distraction from the ache in my heart.

The fire crackles, the storm roars, and I sit here, lost in the past, wondering if I'll ever find my way back.

"Marcus?"

I look up and into a pair of forest-green eyes and an impossibly sweet smile framing an otherwise slightly annoyed face.

"Bella," I say with a slight cough. "Have you finished looking around?"

She nods and looks around her. "It's fine. I'm sorry I was so nasty earlier. Being around your friend brings back memories I'd rather not deal with right now."

"Well, sometimes, memories aren't all that bad," I say as I stand up. "You wouldn't be where you are without them."

She blinks twice and frowns slightly. "I never thought of it that way."

So…is she saying she's not mad about it? I can't read this girl at all, except that…she makes me feel a certain way, like there's hope in this otherwise dreadfully lonely and long life. I'm not sure I can handle that myself. I clear my throat. "So…you and River…"

"Don't tell me you don't know." She rolls her eyes.

"I know, all right," I reply with a terse laugh. "But are you going to be all icy and cold whenever you see him? It could be difficult with us sharing such a small space for God knows how long."

Bella bares her teeth in an almost wolfish fashion. "I thrive in difficult situations. My purpose right now is to make River MacIntyre's life a living hell."

I blink. "I thought you wanted a few solitary days so you could write in peace."

The look she gives me is basically a wordless version of peace, my ass.

I choke back the sudden laugh rising in my throat. "Well, River has no idea what's coming for him."

Her green eyes blaze and burn. I'm glad River isn't in the room with us. She looks particularly murderous right about now. "He's going to wish he never laid eyes on me," she snaps before turning her back to me and gliding up the stairs, presumably to unpack.

Oof, the burn.

Things are about to get very interesting.