*
On Thursday morning, Ellie dragged herself out of bed, put her heartache over Jesse aside and got ready for heartache of another kind. Today was little Tyler Kirby’s funeral service. She dressed in black, put the kids in their nicest clothes, and met her mother and father at St. Barbara’s. It seemed that everyone in Scarlet Springs had turned out to stand by the Kirby family in their grief, the pews crowded, not even standing room available, the parking lot overflowing.
Eric Hawke passed by in his full fire chief dress uniform.
“You look snappy, young man,” her father said.
“I broke out all the official jewelry today,” Eric said, running his fingers over the golden badge and the pins and medals on his jacket. “Ellie, Mrs. Rouse.”
He seemed to be there in an official capacity. He and his crew took their positions, standing at attention around the tiny casket, which was covered by a white pall and a spray of white roses.
She glanced around and saw Eric’s wife Victoria sitting with Lexi and Lexi’s dad and stepmom. Mrs. Beech was there. So was Joe from Knockers, together with much of his staff, including Rain and her daughter, Lark. Rose, always dramatic, was wearing a black lace veil over her silver hair. Frank from the gas station had come in his finest overalls. Megs sat in the back with most of the Team, no yellow T-shirts this time.
The service started, the guy with the bushy beard who ran the new marijuana dispensary playing hymns on the organ. Ellie wasn’t Catholic, but she did her best to follow along in the program, which included the words they were supposed to say and when to kneel or stand.
The kids had a hard time being quiet, so she and her mom ended up taking turns with them in the nursery area, where they could talk and play without disturbing anyone and where they could hear the service piped in by some kind of microphone system. When communion was finished, Carrie Kirby stood and walked up to the microphone to eulogize her own son.
“All I have of my firstborn son are photographs and happy memories, so please indulge me while I tell you what a wonderful child he was.”
Ellie, who was back in the pew with her father, could not hold back her tears while Carrie, who was remarkably composed, shared stories about Tyler. Ellie wasn’t alone in her tears, audible sobs and sniffs coming from the audience.
“What he wanted most was to be a firefighter. He came home from school to tell me that the fire chief had come to his class and that he’d seen a fire engine. He wore a firefighter costume for that Halloween, and we had a hard time getting him to take it off.”
Quiet laughter.
“Tyler, you are beyond us now. You are beyond pain. But we will always, always love you. God bless you and rest in peace, my sweet darling.” With those words, her knees seemed to go weak, the priest and her husband helping her back to her seat.
Eric and his crew walked up to the little casket and saluted it. The pall was removed and replaced with a small American flag. Then Eric set a firefighter’s helmet next to the flowers. And as the firefighters passed, carrying the casket out to the waiting hearse, Ellie saw tears streaming down Eric’s face.
*
Ellie wept as she told Claire about the funeral and the graveside service that had followed and how Carrie had held onto her when she’d paid her respects. “She actually thanked me. I couldn’t save Tyler. None of us could do anything for him, and still, she thanked us—all of us.”
They talked until Ellie had cried herself out.
“So, do I get to ask how it went at the hotel?”
Okay, so maybe she wasn’t quite finished with tears. “I think it’s over between Jesse and me.”
“What? How can it be over? What can possibly have gone wrong in thirty-six hours? You were practically fucking each other with your eyes Tuesday night.”
Ellie told her about their night at the hotel and their day at the Cimarron—how perfect both had been and how horribly the day had ended. “He left the key on my table.”
“Have you heard from him since?”
“No. Nothing. He left the key so that must mean he’s done.”
“Or maybe he thinks you’re done.”
“I told him I needed time, not that I never wanted to see him again.”
“Can I ask you something without you getting mad at me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, well, I’m going to do it anyway. So what if he knew Dan? What’s the big deal with that?”
“It’s a military thing.” How could she explain this? “You don’t fight beside your buddy, watch him die, then come home and use his wife’s grief to get sex.”
“That’s not what Jesse did. It’s not as if he moved into the cabin knowing who you were and spent the past two years waiting for your car to break down in a snowstorm so he could seduce you and babysit your kids.”