Anna's Courage (Rose Island Book 1) (3 page)

My attempt to lighten the mood fell flat. Travis picked up the cat and ruffled its ears. “Hailey’s mom didn’t have a job, and she still died. People die even when they aren’t doing anything dangerous.”

How could I argue with logic like that? Life was dangerous, but it was my job to keep Travis safe. To create a bubble of protection around him and never allow anything to harm him. That’s why I’d stayed on the island with my in-laws after Marcus died.

And that’s why I would never leave the island, or fly, or do anything to jeopardize the sheltered life I’d built for my son and myself.

Nick

I
hadn’t intended
to run past Anna’s house. I’d simply wanted to clear my head and take a break from my father and nieces. Seeing Anna standing on her back porch, albeit from a distance, was a welcome gift on this painful day.

How was I supposed to survive the loss of my brother and sister-in-law? Ethan and Ivana had been a source of strength and stability in my life. And except for my father, they’d been my only family.

To my bewilderment, the will had named me legal guardian for the girls. Why me, I had no idea. Then again, who else was there? Other than a cousin, Ivana didn’t have any other family and Ethan only had me.

One of my army buddies had asked if I’d thought about keeping the girls myself. Of course, I had, but what did I know about being a father? I could make life and death decisions concerning my soldiers all day long, but taking care of two little girls? I didn’t even know where to start.

No, Hailey and Gabby deserved a better home than I could provide. They deserved a father and a mother who didn’t run off to war every few years. Somehow, I would find the perfect family to love and care for them.

Blood pounded against my skull as I raced up the porch steps of my brother’s house. Today, I would lay Ethan and Ivana to rest. My soul ached, but I was determined to be strong. After all, nobody wanted to see a soldier cry.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the back door and found Gabby screaming alone in her playpen. I’d only been in Texas a few days, but already my ears rang from the baby’s constant crying. Was there something wrong with her, or did she simply miss her parents?

Crossing the kitchen, I picked her up and awkwardly bounced her in my arms. “It’s okay. Where’s your grandpa? Did he feed you already?”

In response, the baby’s cries grew stronger.

“Dad?” Cradling Gabby, I strode into the family room where my father stood in front of the large screen TV, holding a bottle of formula. His eyes were glued to the news coverage of Governor Williams and the first lady dancing at some fundraiser.

Anger snaked up my spine. Dealing with a screaming baby wasn’t easy, but you’d think someone called
Grandpa
Jack would at least make an effort. “Dad, hand me the bottle.”

Slowly, he turned around, his face grief-stricken. The skin under his eyes drooped, and his mouth trembled. He’d never been an overly involved or affectionate father, but at that moment, I realized how devastated he was by the loss of his eldest son and daughter-in-law.

Softening my tone, I asked again for the bottle, and he handed it to me. I offered it to Gabby and was grateful when she stopped crying long enough to guzzle it down. Last night, I’d accidentally screwed the lid on incorrectly, infuriating the child so much she’d slammed the bottle on the floor making a huge mess.

Now, she looked peaceful, staring up at me with curious eyes. To my surprise, she placed a chubby hand on my chin and grinned. I grinned back, feeling calmness spread through me. When Gabby wasn’t screaming her head off, she was a real sweetheart.

On the TV, the governor’s wife crinkled her mouth as if tasting something disgusting. My commanding officer had once chastised me for the same gesture, insisting it made me look nervous and weak. From that point forward, I’d tried to always look confident, even when I didn’t know what I was doing.

My father turned off the TV and studied Gabby for a minute. I thought he might try to explain why he’d left her in the kitchen by herself. Maybe her screaming had gotten the best of him and he needed to take a break.

Instead, he tucked his sadness and all other emotion away by reverting to his usual mode of cold efficiency. “I have a conference call in five minutes that I need to take from my car, so I’ll meet you at the funeral.”

I shouldn’t have been surprised it was business as usual for my father today. Jack was a workaholic whose quest for wealth and success never ended. While I had high ambitions of my own, at least I’d never been irresponsible enough to bring children into the mix.

My father straightened his tie. “I need you to talk some sense into Hailey. She’s upstairs throwing a fit because I told her she can’t wear jeans to the funeral. Have her wear the black dress Gina sent.”

Gina was my father’s latest fiancée—a cocktail waitress about the same age as me. Although I’d never met her, I assumed she was like the previous fiancées—gorgeous in looks, but empty on the inside and only interested in my father’s money.

“Nick? Are you listening?” He shot me the
disapproving-Jack-Peterson
look he’d perfected over the years.

Gritting my teeth, I nodded. I’d seen enough death to know people processed grief differently, but my father’s focus on work and appearances today made me sick to my stomach. Of course, at this point in my life, I should be used to my father disappointing me.

As Jack turned and walked out the door, Gabby removed the bottle from her mouth. “Bye, bye,” she said, opening and closing her hand.

I shook my head in disgust. “Bye, bye, indeed.”

She chuckled and shoved the bottle back in her mouth. I shifted her to my hip, ascended the staircase, and knocked on my oldest niece’s bedroom door.

“What?” Hailey called, her voice angry and irritated.

“It’s Uncle Nick. Can I come in?”

“I guess.”

I pushed open the door and found her sitting on the floor, her back pressed against the bed. Her knees were pulled to her chest, and her face was buried in her arms. At her feet laid a pile of crumpled tissue.

“
Hailey
,” I said, my heart crumbling. I crossed the room and sank to the floor beside her.

The baby offered her older sister the bottle, but Hailey shook her head. “No, Gabby. Don’t.”

I lifted Gabby and plopped her on the other side of me. Glancing cautiously at Hailey, I asked, “How are you doing, honey?”

“
Great, Uncle Nick,”
she said sarcastically, glaring at me. “Just great. Never better.”

I blew out a slow breath. I understood her hostility. God had no right to take her parents from this world. As a child, I’d received a bag of candy in Sunday school class for memorizing a Bible verse from Psalms.
For the Lord loves the just and will not forsake his faithful ones.

Then, why did He take Ethan and Ivana?
They were the faithful ones, not me. No, I was the one who’d all but abandoned my faith. I seldom prayed, attended church, or read my Bible. I was a good person and still believed in the Almighty, but I couldn’t understand why a loving God would destroy my brother’s family like this.

Gabby used my leg to pull up to a standing position. Letting go, she wobbled on two unsteady legs and proudly clapped. I gave a weak smile and held out a protective hand out to steady her before turning back to Hailey. “Grandpa said you want to wear jeans to the funeral?”

She looked up with puffy eyes. “I don’t see what the big deal is. Does it really matter what I wear to my parents’ funeral? This isn’t a party, you know.”

I glanced at the conservative, black dress hanging on the closet door. It didn’t look that bad to me, but what did I know about the likes and dislikes of little girls?

“You don’t like the dress Grandpa’s fiancée picked out for you?”

Rage flashed in her eyes. “I
hate
that dress. Hate it!”

I exhaled slowly, trying to figure out how to respond. Ivana didn’t allow Hailey to use the word hate, but maybe in this case it was okay.

“I’m not wearing it, Uncle Nick.”

“No?”

“No.” She balled her hands into fists so tight her knuckles turned white. “Why are you afraid of Grandpa? Dad was afraid of him. Mom was afraid of him. Even the pizza delivery man is afraid of him, but why are
you
afraid of him? You jump out of airplanes and went to Ranger school. You’re friends with the president.”

I felt ashamed by Hailey’s confidence in me. Why was I still afraid of my father? Why could one critical glance take me back to that horrible summer day I struck out at the city-wide Little League championship game?

“You know, Hailey,” I began, “the president and I aren’t exactly friends. I met him when I graduated from West Point, but we don’t hang out or anything. I’ve never been bowling at his house.”

“
Whatever
.” She crossed her arms. “Just so you know, I’m not afraid of Grandpa. And I don’t care what he says. I’m not wearing Gina’s stupid dress to the stupid funeral.”

Thrusting out her chin, she continued. “Didn’t my parents put you in charge of me? Can’t
you
decide what I’m supposed to wear?”

I could. In fact, until I relinquished custody to her new parents, I was responsible for her. I thought of my father marching out the door, using work as an excuse not to deal with today’s heartrending challenges. And I thought of the faith Hailey had in me, and the faith I lacked in myself.

“Okay, Hailey Peterson,” I said in my most authoritative voice. “I’m ordering you to wear jeans to the funeral.”

Her eyes widened, and for the first time since my arrival, her mouth turned upwards with a hint of a smile. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” I lifted Gabby and bounced her on my knee. The baby giggled and kicked her legs in delight.

“What are you going to do about Grandpa?” Hailey tentatively asked. “He’s not going to be happy if I don’t wear the dress.”

That’s putting it mildly.
“You let me worry about Grandpa, okay, kiddo?”

“Okay,” she said, this time smiling for real.

Anna

I worked at
the salon all morning before collecting Travis from school and walking to the church, located just off the square on Church Street. The dark clouds from earlier had lifted, leaving behind sunshine and a bright blue sky that seemed almost sacrilegious for a funeral.

In the church parking lot, we ran into Nick standing next to Ivana’s car, wearing his military uniform. My insides knotted. Even after all these years of living near a military post and having a father still on active duty, the uniform reminded me that my husband was gone. Cringing, I blocked out the last image I had of Marcus, waving from the bus that took him off to war.

“You look awesome!” Travis said, gazing up at Nick.

Nick shifted Gabby uncomfortably in his arms and gave a somber smile. “Thanks.”

“My grandpa has a uniform like that,” Travis continued, “but he has more medals.”

“I imagine so. He’s a sergeant major in DC, right?” Nick glanced at me for confirmation and I nodded.

“My dad was a soldier,” Travis blurted out with little emotion. “He was killed when I was three.”

My stomach dropped. Because Travis had very few memories of his father, Marcus’s death was simply a matter of fact. Not the life-shattering event it’d been for me.

Nick’s face tightened. “I’m sorry.”

“And I’m sorry about Hailey’s mom and dad,” Travis said. “Mrs. Peterson taught me how to make sushi, and Mr. Peterson fixed my bike one time.”

The lump in my throat turned to a boulder. Why had I thought it a good idea to come to the funeral? I’d wanted to support the Peterson family, but maybe I should just go home.

Travis tugged uncomfortably at the tie around his neck. “Is Hailey inside? Can I go see her?”

“She’s in the sanctuary with her grandpa,” Nick said.

Travis asked permission to join Hailey, then he ran off, leaving me alone with Nick and the baby. Nervous, I stepped forward and rubbed Gabby’s back. “Hey, pretty girl.”

The baby buried her face in Nick’s shoulder, and he shifted clumsily so as not to drop her. I could tell that even though he didn’t have a lot of experience with babies he was doing his best to care for Gabby.

I held out my arms. “Do you want to come to me, sweetheart?”

The baby giggled and snuggled deeper into her uncle’s neck. Then, suddenly, she turned and lunged at me.

“Whoa,” Nick said, holding on to her so she wouldn’t fall. “Do you want Miss Anna to hold you?”

“Come here.” I lifted Gabby into my arms and exchanged a smile with Nick. The simple gesture of taking a baby from a man stirred something inside me. I felt an unexpected yearning for something I couldn’t name. Something I shouldn’t want.

Pushing the desire away, I wrapped my arms around Gabby. On this sad day, I welcomed the reassurance a baby offered. Pulling her closer, I breathed in the sweet smell of baby shampoo, graham crackers, and something else.

Nick.

Some of Nick’s spicy cologne had rubbed onto Gabby’s sleeve, and the intoxicating scent made me lightheaded. A tingle of excitement swept through me, but I stopped the emotion before it could reach my heart. Despite the insane attraction I had to this soldier, he was not the man for me. He couldn’t be.

“So, how’s everyone doing?” I asked, focusing on the present.

Nick ran a hand through his short-cropped dark hair. “Other than the fact my father is going to have a conniption about Hailey wearing jeans to the funeral, we’re doing okay.”

I shrugged. “Hailey is a jeans and T-shirt girl. Something I can definitely understand.”

Nick’s gray-blue eyes quickly skimmed over my all-purpose black dress before returning to my face. “Honestly, I’m just glad she’s here. She’s spent the last few days lying on the couch watching
The Sound of Music
over and over and over. Last night, she insisted she wasn’t coming to the funeral, so being here is a big accomplishment. At this point, I don’t care what she wears.”

“She didn’t want to come today?”