That no matter how bleak things seemed, tomorrow would be better.
“Do you wanna listen to music? Mom borrowed the iPod, but I got it back.” Milo pulled it out of his pocket and showed it to her. “I even remembered to charge it.”
“Only if it’s not Elvis.”
He grinned. “You can’t fool me. I know it’s your favorite.”
They spent an hour lying next to each other, an earbud for each of them, listening to Aerosmith. U2. Pink Floyd. Journey. The Beatles. And of course, Elvis Presley’s “Love Me Tender” and “Heartbreak Hotel.”
The songs she’d grown up with, that Gramps had loved. He’d danced with her when she was a little girl, Gran looking on, pretending to disapprove but nodding her head to the tune.
The same songs Hannah had once sung to Milo. The music connected them, a gossamer thread leading them to each other.
By the time the sun had set and darkness crouched outside the windows, Quinn’s tears had dried to salty tracks on her cheeks, and Milo lay curled against her side, breathing contentedly, fast asleep.
48
Liam
Day One Hundred and Fourteen
Liam had blood on his hands.
He’d been forced to kill the soldiers manning the helo. The moment they’d fired a shot, they’d become the enemy. They had attacked innocent people. They had killed Molly. For that, they deserved their fiery death.
Fall Creek had eliminated the threat of the Black Hawk, but at great cost. The town was once again reeling, left to pick up the pieces.
It wasn’t over yet.
After another endless day working to solidify their fighting positions, consolidate resources, and take stock of the wreckage, Bishop had forced him to take a break.
Fear, uncertainty, and dread formed a hard knot inside him. A crushing weariness threatened to overwhelm him, but for the moment, the imminent danger had receded.
For a few precious minutes, he was a man, not a soldier.
A man with the woman he loved.
Liam sat on Hannah’s sofa with Charlotte. She smelled clean, of baking soda and lotion. He bobbed his knee and Charlotte giggled, the sound as pure and rich as ringing bells.
Rain drummed the roof. The wind scoured the corners of the house and rattled the tree branches.
Inside, the fire crackled in the living room fireplace. Candles placed around the room scented the air with vanilla and lavender.
Ghost sprawled before the fireplace, panting like he’d spent the day running a marathon, not dozing.
His apparent indolence was misleading. When his people were awake and alert, he rested. When they slept, he came alive, spending the nights patrolling his domain, protecting his herd.
Hannah’s singing drifted from the hallway as she finished up her usual bedtime routine with Milo. Quinn was here, too.
After finding them sleeping in Quinn’s bed, Liam had brought them to Hannah’s house. They awoke just long enough to inhale a supper of potato and carrot soup with the cooked rabbit that Quinn had caught earlier.
Hannah insisted Quinn stay with her. It wasn’t healthy—or safe—to be alone.
Charlotte cooed, grinning. Her chubby arms flailed as she reached for him, grasping for his face. Her crooked knit hat toppled onto the couch cushion, and her chocolate-brown fringe stood up all over her head with static.
It was adorable. She was adorable.
“Too warm for that hat now,” he said. “You’ve grown so much. Guess I’ll have to make you another one. Maybe pink this time? I’ve heard little girls like pink.”
She wrapped her tiny fingers around one thumb, then the other, and looked up at him with wide bright eyes. Her face alight, her whole being radiated joy.
His heart clenched and expanded all in one breath.
If she was safe to grow up, then he’d done his job. If he saved her and her mother. No matter what happened to him. That would be enough.
Charlotte yawned and snuggled against his chest. Her halo of silky dark hair tickled his neck. He leaned back, his spine twinging, but he ignored it as he patted her diapered bottom.
Within a minute, she was asleep.
Hannah padded down the hallway. “They’re both asleep.”
“They’ll probably sleep for twelve hours. Especially Quinn. Don’t let her wake up early for our training session. It can wait. She needs her rest.”
Hannah settled beside him on the couch. Her hair was tugged back in a messy ponytail. Dark circles ringed her eyes, her skin pale.
She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
“I keep thinking about Molly,” she said, and her face crumpled. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”
With Charlotte sleeping against his chest, he drew Hannah to him with his free arm. She sank into his embrace as if she’d always belonged there.
She looked up at him, a wave of grief contorting her features. Tears sparked in her eyes. “After everything, to lose Molly, too. I already miss her so much.”
He felt gut-punched. Like another hole had opened inside him, a wound that would never fully heal. Molly was an incredible fount of knowledge, but more importantly, she’d been a dear friend. He’d come to care deeply for her.
Such a snarky, independent, intelligent woman. The prickly heart of Fall Creek. “It doesn’t feel right without her here.”
“Everything feels…lessened, somehow.”
“I wish I could go back and change things. I could have stopped it, saved them—”
“It’s not your fault. It’s the General who did this,” she said fiercely. “He’s the one who needs to pay.”
Emotion thickened his throat. “I know.”
Hannah was quiet for a minute. The fire popped and sparked. “She died saving Quinn, saving that little boy.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less of her,” Liam said gruffly.
“We need to honor her. We have to have a funeral…something.”
“We will, but it’s not safe now.”
“I know. It’s just…hard,” she said. “Poor Quinn. I love that girl like my own heart. I want to hold her and never let go. She has no one left.”
“Yes, she does. She has you. She has us.”
Hannah nodded. “She does.”