“I wonder how far he has to go to get home,” Ellie said. “It’s so cold.”
“Bear knows more about surviving in the mountains than the rest of us combined.” In the two and a half years that Jesse had lived in Scarlet, he’d never known Bear to ask for anything more than spare change or a warm meal.
Jesse accelerated, felt the Jeep’s rear tires slip just a little, and shifted into four-wheel drive. The snow was coming down hard now, fat flakes clinging to his windshield wipers. “How about you? Where are you from?”
“I grew up here. I moved to Kentucky to be with my husband. He grew up in Scarlet, too, but was stationed at Fort Campbell. I moved back after … He was killed while serving in Iraq. I was four months pregnant.”
Jesse tried to ignore the way her words pierced that dark place inside him. “I’m sorry. It must be hard to raise twins by yourself.”
“Especially on nights like tonight.” She turned her face away from him, looked out the window. “My parents have been a big help. My mom watches the twins when I work. My dad is a pediatrician, so I get free doctor’s visits and house calls. People in Scarlet set up a scholarship fund for the kids for college. My neighbors have been great, too. They shovel my walk, move my trash can, help with yard work. I don’t even have to ask. They just do it.”
He suppressed a smile. “That’s good. When someone lays down his life for his country, people ought to do more for his family than just offer condolences.”
He glanced over at her, found her looking at him.
“Yes—and thanks.”
They made the rest of the short drive without talking, Daniel’s whimpers and the squeak of the wiper blades breaking the silence.
Jesse pulled into her driveway and parked. “You take care of the kids. I’ll get the groceries.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
He climbed out into the wind and made his way to the back of his vehicle, icy flakes biting his cheeks. He retrieved her groceries and started toward the house, only to find her sitting, half in and half out of the vehicle, clinging to the door.
“I’m just … dizzy.”
It was time to get tactical.
Arms full of groceries, he walked over to her. “Do you have your house keys? I’ll carry the groceries in, then come back for you and the kids. You shouldn’t be carrying them if you’re dizzy.”
She fumbled in her pocket, pulled out the keys and handed them to him.
Jesse trudged through the snow to the front door, stomped the snow off his boots, then unlocked the door and stepped inside, flicking a light switch. He carried the groceries to the kitchen, then strode back outside to his vehicle.
She was right where he’d left her.
“Can you make it inside on your own?” He didn’t want to leave such small children alone in his vehicle or the house.
She nodded. “I think so.”
He steadied her while she got to her feet, then watched as she walked inside. When she was safely through the door, he opened the passenger side door to discover that the twins had unbuckled themselves. “Hey, Daniel and Daisy. I’m Jesse. I’m going to carry you inside.”
Jesus, Moretti. That’s the best you can do?
Really, it was.
He reached for them, half expecting them to back away from him in horror. Instead, they came easily into his arms, Daniel with his blanket, Daisy with her thumb in her mouth, their trust strangely touching. He lifted them out of the Jeep, kicked the door shut, and carried them inside to where their mother stood, still in her parka, waiting, her pretty face white as a sheet.
He set the children down at her feet. Daisy toddled off in tiny snow boots, while Daniel leaned against his mother’s leg, blue blanket clutched in a little fist.
“You should sit down and…” His gaze met Ellie’s, and his brain went blank for a moment, his breath catching.
Green.
Her eyes were green.
She shook her head. “I need to put this stuff away and make dinner.”
Trying to act like the earth hadn’t just shifted beneath his feet, Jesse stepped back and looked around him. Her home was warm and cozy, toys scattered across a braided area rug in front of the sofa, wood stacked next to a fireplace with a wood stove insert. On the mantel sat a display case holding a folded American flag—the flag from her husband’s funeral—along with several service medals and …
Adrenaline hit his bloodstream.
A USASOAC patch.
Son of a bitch.
Her husband had been a pilot with the 160th SOAR—the Special Operations Aviation Regiment.
Well, shit.
“I’ll go get the car seats.” He walked back outside, fighting an impulse to run, torn between getting the hell out of here and wanting to do more to help her.
What the hell is wrong with you?
He clamped down on his emotions and retrieved the car seats from his vehicle. Back inside, he found her on her knees, wrestling the kids out of snow boots, mittens, hats, and coats.
He set the car seats down on the polished wood floor. “I’d be happy to look at the car tomorrow when I get off work. I’m good with engines.”