“You can take it with you,” Beckett offered, his gruff voice softened to a level that drew my eyes to his. “In case you want some privacy to read it.”
There was a deep sorrow in his gaze, a raw, unfathomable pain that sucked the air from my lungs. I knew that feeling; I was that feeling, and seeing it reflected in someone else somehow made my own feel validated and a little less lonely. There had been tears at Ryan’s funeral. Larry, Ada…me, the kids, the few local girls he’d seen off and on for years, even the couple of guys who had come to represent his unit. But none of them had looked like I felt—like I’d been abandoned by the only person who really knew me…not until this moment with someone I considered a stranger.
A stranger I was connected to through the death of the person we’d both loved.
Given the state of the envelope, and how many times he’d obviously read the letter, I knew what he was offering, and what it cost him. That simple gesture meant more to me than every let-me-know-what-you-need from every well-meaning person who learned about Maisie, even more than the honest offers from Ada and Larry, whom I considered family.
Beckett was offering me the chance to walk out the door with a sacred piece of his history.
“No, that’s okay. I’d honestly rather read it here. With you.” Where maybe just once, I wouldn’t feel so utterly alone in my grief for Ryan. “If that’s okay?”
“Of course. Do you want to sit?” He rocked back on his heels and folded his arms over his chest. If I knew him better I’d say he looked nervous, but I wasn’t familiar enough with any of his mannerisms to really make assumptions.
“No, that’s okay.” Sitting meant staying, which I definitely wasn’t.
I opened the envelope and slid out the letter. It was lined notebook paper, the same he’d used to send me letters. The paper was even more worn than the envelope, the single page dirt-smudged at the folds. Sucking in a breath to steady myself, I unfolded the letter and immediately recognized Ryan’s handwriting.
“How many times did you read this?” I asked, my voice small.
“At least once a day since I…” Beckett cleared his throat. “Sometimes more, in the beginning. Now I keep it in my pocket to remind me why I’m here. That even though you won’t let me help you, I’m trying my best to do as he asked.”
I nodded and read through the letter in its entirety as slowly as I possibly could, savoring the last time I’d hear from my brother.
It’s not fair to ask, I know that. It’s against your nature to care, to not accomplish a mission and move on, but I need this. Maisie and Colt need it. Ella needs it—needs you, though she’ll fight you tooth and nail before she ever admits it. Help her even when she swears she’s fine.
Don’t make her go through it alone.
There it was. The truth. Ryan sent Beckett, asked him to help, or rather—guilted him so well that Beckett had gotten out of a career he loved and moved to a strange place where the person he’d moved for blatantly ignored him at every possible moment.
Ryan’s final request had been for me.
My eyes slid shut, and I counted as I took steady breaths, until the need to cry hysterically, to throw things at the lot fate had decided I was worthy of, had passed.
Then I looked at Beckett, realizing he’d retreated a few feet to lean against the wall, as if he’d sensed my need for space. But his eyes were locked on mine, the set of his mouth as stoic as I would imagine a special ops guy to be—as Ryan was.
“Thank you.” I handed the letter back to him in the envelope.
“I’m sorry that I’m here, and he’s not.”
“Why don’t you think you’re worthy of love? Of family? Everyone’s worthy of family.” Even when I was at my lowest, I’d always known that. If it wasn’t my parents, then it was Grandma, or Ryan, or Larry and Ada. Now it was my kids, too. What had happened to this guy that he didn’t have that?
He pushed off the wall, walking past me toward the kitchen, leaving the letter on the closest counter. “He wanted to be here, you know. He was getting out at his ETS date, already told the commander he wasn’t re-upping. He had every intention of being here for you from the moment he knew about Maisie.” Beckett opened the refrigerator, taking out two bottles of water, and blatantly ignored what I’d asked.
I rounded the corner of the island to follow him.
“Yeah, well, he’d said that before, right after the twins were born. He came home on leave and with them both asleep on his chest, he promised me he was getting out. That he’d come home where he was needed. Funny thing, he didn’t even last the month of leave before his phone rang, and he packed his bags and left. I stopped believing him after that. I don’t put a lot of faith in pretty promises, even from men who say they love me. Now as for you, you quit a job you obviously loved and moved across the world simply to fulfill Ryan’s request. That’s loyalty. That’s the very definition of family, and I can’t figure out why you wouldn’t think you deserve it when you have it.”
He unscrewed the first lid and took a deep drink, then put the bottle on the counter and handed me the other. I took it out of habit, not because I was thirsty.
“You heading to Denver for Maisie’s surgery in the morning?”
“You always dodge questions?”
A smile flashed across his face and was gone just as fast as it had appeared. “I’m not here for me. I’m here for you.”
Every time he said that, I felt a tiny piece of the mortar in my emotional walls crack. Not enough to bring them down, or even weaken them. But it was there all the same, just waiting to expand and grow. No one had ever stuck around for me, let alone did what Beckett had done.
Not that this was permanent.
“You shouldn’t be. You have a life. No matter what Ryan said in that letter, I’m not your responsibility. No matter how close you two were, you’re very much a stranger. I appreciate every offer you’ve made, and what you’ve gone through to fulfill Ryan’s wish, but this is too much.” My words were harsh, but I kept my voice soft. I didn’t want to hurt him.
“I’m not leaving.” He echoed my tone.
Funny how the conversation was the same as the first time we met, but the connotation was so very different, and that made all the difference. I wasn’t trying to shove Beckett out as much as I was trying to release him.
“You will.” Just like Ryan had. Just like Jeff and Dad. Depending on Beckett would be the most foolish thing I could possibly do.
His jaw flexed, and he looked away for a moment. When his gaze returned, his eyes were a little harder. “I guess you’re just going to have to wait and see.”
Tension stretched the length of the kitchen between us, palpable enough to cut…or maybe to tie us together—the soldier and the woman he was honor bound to watch over.
“I’d better get going.” I left my unopened bottle on the counter and walked past Beckett, through the hallway, and to the front door.
“I know this surgery is going to be tough. On her, on you. Please promise me that you’ll call if you need anything.”
I looked over my shoulder to see him standing in the hallway about five feet behind me. There was determination on his face, but that sorrow was back in his eyes. I owed this man nothing and knew even less about him, other than the fact that Ryan had trusted him.
I opened the door and stepped into the fresh air, wishing it could clear my muddled, overfull brain. But the thought pounded at me mercilessly, until I let it in—Beckett couldn’t keep his promise to Ryan if I didn’t let him. While I was many things, cruel wasn’t one of them.
“I promise.”
It wasn’t a lie, because I had no intention of needing anything from Beckett. Pulling the door shut behind me, I left his cabin and headed back to mine. Now that I knew the truth, I could stop letting the guy invade my thoughts and get back to what I needed to focus on.
Maisie.
Chapter Nine
Beckett
Letter #11
Chaos,