A Soldier's Honor Page 6

  She should say something more, but the apologies she owed him got tangled between her mind and her mouth and once more went unspoken.

  “You look great,” he said.

  She couldn’t handle more compliments right now. “You must have hit your head.” Flustered, she returned her attention to the wound.

  Caleb rushed back, water sloshing over the sides of the bowl he carried. She didn’t care. Floors dried and she was far too grateful for the distraction. Carefully, she cut away his undershirt and he leaned back, bracing on his opposite arm to give her better access.

  Her first impression of him outside held true. He was still in prime shape, his muscles heavier and his build a bit wider now than he’d been at twenty. An overall maturity, she reminded herself.

  She washed the wound and Caleb handed her folded gauze pads that she pressed close to stem the bleeding. “Not sure stitches will help,” she said.

  “They won’t,” he agreed, straining for a look. “Just tape it up.”

  “Police are here.” Caleb tipped his head toward the dining room, where red and blue lights gave the room a strange strobe-light effect.

  As he spoke, someone knocked on the busted front door. “Police department,” a man’s voice declared.

  Caleb jumped up to answer, but Matt grabbed his arm, held him back. “Let me.”

  With one hand holding the in-progress bandage to his ribs, he muttered a low curse as Bethany helped him stand up.

  Another hard knock rattled the door in its frame. “Police!”

  “Yeah, just a second,” Matt replied. “Go on back to the—”

  “It’s my house,” Bethany interrupted. There was chivalry and then there was stupidity. He was hurt, not badly, but enough that it mattered. She angled in front of him.

  “Beth,” he warned.

  He’d been the only person in her life to call her that. And he hadn’t spoken the nickname that way since she refused his first proposal of marriage. Oh, how she missed this man.

  “My house,” she repeated and opened the door to a uniformed officer, who was ready to pound on the barrier once more.

  “Ma’am,” he said at once. “Officer Baker, Cherry Hill Police Department. Are you safe?”

  “Yes, we are now. A car drove past and someone fired a gun at my son and his father.”

  The officer was looking at the damaged door, the scattered bits of colored glass behind them. “Are you injured?” He dipped his chin toward her, the bloodstains on her hands and clothing. “An ambulance is on the way.”

  “My son and I are fine. Nothing more than a few scrapes and splinters. This is from Caleb’s father. He was grazed by a bullet.”

  “May I come in?”

  She opened the door enough for him to see the full extent of the damage. He motioned for his partner to join him. Convinced he wasn’t a threat, she made a note of the names and badge numbers anyway, inviting him and his partner into the dining room. It was the closest seating option and, on some wobbly emotional level, it helped her to keep this chaos from spilling into the parts of the house she and Caleb enjoyed most.

  She pulled the curtains closed over the window, her only capitulation to the fear rattling through her. The shooter was gone and the danger had passed, but the chills were just starting. As the three of them gave their statements, she didn’t hold out much hope that the driver and the gun-wielding passenger would be found.

  All of them remembered the car as a dark, four-door sedan. Matt gave them the probable make, though none of them had caught even a glimpse of the license plate.

  No, her security system didn’t have a camera facing the street. No, Caleb didn’t have friends with guns or friends in gangs. No, she hadn’t seen the car before. No one new had moved in recently. No, no, no. The questions only underscored the pervasive sense of helplessness in the air.

  At the buzzing of the oven timer, she seized the opportunity and dashed away to take the Greek chicken out of the oven. Matt’s voice drifted after her as he answered more questions.

  His voice had changed as well, deep and mellow. That solid, sturdy sound had always made her want to lean in close and accept the support he offered. One more reason she’d kept her distance since Caleb’s birth. Better to avoid temptation than risk her willpower snapping like a weak thread.

  She’d always been weak where Matt was concerned.

  “Mom?” Caleb wandered into the kitchen. “You okay?”

  “Sure.” She smiled at him. “Just debating how best to keep this hot.” She covered the baking dish with two layers of aluminum foil and set it at the back of the stove top.

  “Matt gave me the get-lost look,” Caleb whispered. “He wants us to stay in here.”

  She bristled, as she’d done when he wanted to answer her door. Yet, he was the one injured and he’d had the best look at the car. He was also a major in the US Army. What he said would carry more weight with the authorities.

  “Come here.” She noticed a couple of dark stains at the knees of his jeans. “Bring a stool,” she added, walking to the sink.

  Taking an inventory, she looked over the minor scrapes from broken glass on his knees and palms. The jeans had taken the brunt of it, though she noticed he had a few deeper slivers. “Roll up your jeans.”

  “Seriously?” He rolled his eyes while he cooperated. “I’m fine, Mom.”

  “I’ll be fine too if you let me baby you a bit. Please?” Her hands were full of the wet paper towel she was blotting against the various scrapes.

  “If it’ll help you.” His sweet grin faded as the police stepped into the kitchen.

  “The paramedics are checking on Mr. Riley,” Officer Baker said. “Do either of you need assistance or treatment?”

  “No, thank you,” Bethany replied. “Just a scratch here or there, nothing deep.”

  “All right. Is there someone to help you with the door?”

  She’d forgotten her door would need attention. “I can contact a neighbor.” And call her alarm company to shut down that sensor.

  “Good. We have what we need for now and a patrol car is staying behind as a precaution. We’ll be in touch as the case develops.”

  “Thank you.” She arched an eyebrow at Caleb and he immediately thanked the officers, as well.

  With the paramedics still in her dining room, Bethany turned her attention to the hoodie Caleb wore with the school’s mascot on the front. “This is probably ruined. Off with it.”

  “No way. It’s one of my favorites.”

  “I know,” she said with sympathy. “Let me see. I’ll try and salvage it.”

  He wriggled it over his head, and as the light flashed through a hole in the heavy fabric, her heart stuttered in her chest. A bullet had come this close—too close—to tearing into her baby. No matter that he would soon be taller than she was, he was still her baby. A piece of her heart would always look at him through that soft maternal filter.

  “Mom?” Caleb gasped as she drew him in close for a long hug. He patted her back. “You okay?”

  “No, but I will be,” she answered honestly. On a shaky exhale, she released him. “Go see how Matt’s doing.” She turned to the sink and started to scrub, knowing she’d only throw out this hoodie. He’d have to find a new favorite, if only for the sake of her nerves. Maybe Matt would give him one with an Army logo.

  When he was out of sight and she heard him chattering with Matt, she balled up the hoodie and stuffed it into a plastic bag. Quickly, she carried it to the trash can in the laundry room and stuffed it down deep. Then she called Mr. Payton. He lived a couple houses down and he always volunteered to help with minor home repairs. She and Caleb had learned a great deal helping him help them. He happily agreed to come right over and secure the door for the night.

  After she returned to the kitchen, Bethany deliberately began setting ou
t food. Once the door was repaired, they’d eat in here, a casual setting for casual conversation. The dining room was too close to the disquieting mess and the street that now felt dangerous. She didn’t pretend to understand precisely what was going on, but she couldn’t help making the connection between Caleb finding Matt and trouble following them to her door.

  Anger ran in hot and cold spurts through her veins. She wanted a target to strike back and a shield to protect her son. A small, sly voice in her mind blamed Matt, and she shook it off, knowing that was more of an irrational adrenaline-induced reaction.

  Regardless, she wouldn’t discuss danger and risk around Caleb anymore tonight. And she would not let Matt out of this house until they came to some agreement about what precautions would be put in place for Caleb’s safety. She wanted answers, not random platitudes. Her son was her highest priority, and if that meant keeping him away from his father, so be it.

  * * *

  Bethany’s immediate fear had burned away, and the cool calm she’d exhibited in the crisis was cracking around the edges. She was furious. Matt could see it simmering under the facade of pleasant conversation she used to cover more sensitive subjects.

  It might have helped if he wasn’t sitting here in a dark blue T-shirt the paramedics had given him since his shirts had been trashed and bloody. She, on the other hand, had changed into a dark purple shirt that flowed over her curves and snug jeans, and had gathered her hair into a braided knot at her nape. Her gaze turned chilly every time she glanced his way, and he figured the logo on the shirt reminded her of the bullets so recently aimed at their son.

  Sitting here, he found her more beautiful than ever, a woman who’d captivated him once and could easily do so again. Thanks to social media, he’d seen pictures of the general changes through the years: her longer hair, changing fashion preferences, new hobbies. None of it made up for seeing her in person, hearing her voice, sharing a meal. The urge to lace his fingers with hers to rediscover that familiar comfort nearly overwhelmed him.

  Maybe he should have left and taken a raincheck on this significant event, except he’d spent enough time with Caleb this afternoon and in the car to know where the kid’s head was at. Matt didn’t think it was fair for Bethany to manage the evening alone. Caleb had serious questions rattling in his head, along with plenty of battered feelings. The best thing he could do was stand as a buffer and keep them from saying things they’d regret.

  Though his side ached, it didn’t impede his appetite. The paramedics warned him the rib might be cracked, but he knew better, having cracked ribs in training before. Instead, he set out to enjoy what remained of his first night with his family.

  He and Caleb devoured everything Bethany set on the table, while she merely pushed the food around her plate. She never could eat when she was mad. He complimented her Greek chicken—perfect despite the delay—and continued swiping baby carrots and crackers through the tasty dip on the appetizer tray.

  Their son had endless questions about how they’d met and what West Point was like. Sharing the stories took Matt back to those early days when the excitement for her was as intense as the expectations of the school. Caleb asked about the places Matt had traveled for the Army, soaking up those details, too. It seemed he was fully aware of his mother’s tenuous good mood and willing to dance around the more difficult pieces of their family puzzle. Until he wasn’t.

  “Were you ever going to tell me about Matt?” Caleb asked his mom as he poked at the last of his salad greens.

  Matt endured another cool glance from Bethany.

  “Yes.” She smiled. “Tonight, in fact.”

  “No.” Caleb took a deep breath. “I mean if the hack or whatever hadn’t happened. Would you ever have told me?”

  Matt gave the kid points for bravery as he held up under Bethany’s stern assessment. “Yes,” she replied. One syllable. A complete sentence in itself, but it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy Caleb.

  He tapped the tines of his fork against his plate, his gaze locked with hers. “I don’t believe you.”

  She ignored the tapping fork, calmly tracing the side of her water glass with a fingertip. “I understand that. The trust between us took a hard hit on both sides today. Don’t you agree?” She arched one dark blond eyebrow.

  Caleb’s chin came up. “I am not sorry I found him. Not sorry about any of that.”

  “I see.” She looked as if she wanted the water to turn to wine or something stronger.

  Personally, Matt wouldn’t mind something a little stronger than the beer she’d served him. He was starting to feel uncomfortable, an obvious outsider, caught in a family spat. Except, he was family and it was past time for him to step up. “Caleb, speak with respect to your mother.”

  They both turned glares on him. “There have been two of us since day one,” he reminded the boy. “I could have pressed my paternal rights and been more involved and I chose not to do that. Don’t put all this on her.”

  “But she—”

  “Your mom has always done what she felt was best for you,” Matt interjected before Caleb stuck his foot deeper into his mouth. “Every decision she made was made in love.”

  Bethany’s eyes dropped to her plate, her lips pressed thin. If they’d been alone, he would dig in, pester or cajole her until she confided in him. He didn’t want to employ either tactic in front of their son. Out of respect for her.

  Matt lifted his glass in a subtle toast and then took a gulp of his beer. There had to be a middle ground, and one of them needed to find it soon.

  “This may not be how I wanted you to find out,” Bethany said as if she’d read his mind, “but I’m not sorry that you know. For years I’ve tried to find the right time and the right words.”

  “Why didn’t you?” Caleb demanded, his voice rising. “How hard could it have been to say, ‘Hey, this guy’s your dad and he wants to meet you’?”

  “Caleb,” Matt started to intervene again and Bethany shook her head.

  “We were happy,” she said, her voice and eyes full of regret. “All of us were happy.”

  Matt wanted to protest that last bit, though he’d wait for a more private moment. He’d add it to the lengthening list of things they needed to discuss. Caleb couldn’t have been too happy if he’d willingly followed a stranger’s clues to find his father. Matt sure hadn’t been happy with the hands-off arrangement. He’d felt as if a limb was missing all this time. And now, sitting here in her kitchen, he’d call Bethany content, but not happy. Not the way a family should be happy.

  Feeling his own temper edge toward boiling over, he volunteered Caleb to help him with the dishes. “Being mad at her doesn’t change anything,” he said, covering the conversation under the sound of running water and cleanup. “You’ve got a right to be upset, as long as you remember she has feelings, too.”

  “I know. It’s like I can’t stop being mad,” the boy admitted.

  Matt caught the tremor in Caleb’s hands as he loaded the dishwasher. “That’s adrenaline,” he explained. “Takes time to burn through it.” Adrenaline and a healthy dose of latent fear, if Matt was reading the signs right. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yes.” He was not going to fade back into the woodwork. Not again. All three of them deserved better.

  “I’ve wanted a dad for as long as I can remember.” Caleb’s hands twisted the dish towel, his knuckles going white. “It’s not fair that you’ve been out there all this time and I didn’t know.”

  Matt saw his son fighting back tears and just pulled him into a half hug. “Life can suck, right?” He could hold the kid for a year and not have enough.

  Caleb’s cheek scrubbed against Matt’s shirt as he nodded.

  “Well, you know about me now, so good luck getting rid of me.” Matt gave him a squeeze and released him. “Do me a favor.”

&
nbsp; “Sure.”

  That’s what he wanted to hear. “After dessert, go find something else to do so I can talk to your mom alone.”

  “About me?” Caleb eyed him closely.

  “Among other things,” Matt said with a wink.

  “Fine.” Caleb’s eyes clouded over. “Will you stay here tonight? Please?”

  “You’d feel better if I did?” He waited for Caleb’s affirmative nod. “Well, I’ll let you in on a secret—I was already planning on it.” Now that he had his family within reach, he wasn’t about to leave them vulnerable to any threat. Tonight’s drive-by wasn’t some random occurrence.

  “What about your job?”

  “General Knudson and I will figure it out. This falls under the exceptional circumstance category. You just worry about getting some rest. What time does the bus come tomorrow?”

  “It doesn’t,” Bethany said, walking up behind them. She pulled the ice-cream sandwiches out of the freezer. “Caleb was suspended for two days for truancy.”

  “What?” Caleb’s voice cracked. “I have a history midterm on Thursday.” He turned to Matt. “When you’re suspended, you don’t get credit for homework or assignments or tests. Man.” He covered his face with his hands. “I am so screwed.”

  “Consequences,” Matt and Bethany said in unison.

  “Come on.” He flung a hand toward Matt. “I had a good reason!” Neither one of them reacted. Caleb’s shocked gaze shifted from one parent’s face to the other and back again. “Oh, this? This is perfect.” He grabbed two ice-cream sandwiches from the plate on the counter and stormed off, down the hall.

  “Think he’ll try to sneak out?” Matt asked.

  “Won’t get too far with the security system on.” The first hint of a grin teased her mouth at one corner. “I had the windows wired when he started middle school.”

  The amused tilt of her lush mouth tempted him. He reeled in his desire. “Not to mention the cops keeping watch outside.” He tipped his head in the direction of the driveway. “Did we just have our first united-we-stand parental moment?”