Fan The Flames (Man Of The Month Book 3)

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About the Author

Copyright Page

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To the sixteen students who comprised my seventh-hour Novel class. As I taught you, I taught myself and this book is better because of it. I will always remember you all: Lucas Bayne, Skye Bradley, Gina Bryant, Paris Carter, Taylor Cathcart, Sydney Clark, Carly Harper, Jennifer Lippert, Ryan Nguyen, Brendan Pinz, Emelia Robertson, Kirsten Sample, Hannah Sieker, Payton Wilson, Kelli Woods, and Taylor Wyatt.

To all those who serve in our Armed Forces, thank you for your dedication, especially Christos Tsiaklides and his wonderful wife Rachel, who stands by his side. Finally, to AWOLNATION who created the most kick-ass song ever with “Hollow Moon (Bad Wolf)” that literally became the soundtrack in my head.

Acknowledgments

When creating a work of fiction, authors embellish. We bend reality in order to develop the world in which our characters live. I’d like to thank both Christa Martell for her military insight and Michael Eisenbeis for his firefighter expertise. Any errors or liberties taken are mine.

Prologue

The sun wasn’t supposed to be shining on days like this. Rain would have been better—big, dark and stormy rain clouds would at least match Brad’s anger and ire. Hard-slapping raindrops would also hide any slip of emotion, although men stoic in their Navy dress blues didn’t shed tears. Yet the fight to hold them back was one of the hardest-fought battles of his life. A seagull took flight, finding his friends so they could play on the warm ocean breeze that blew across Coronado and made its way gently across the bay to San Diego. The breeze made the mid-eighties day perfectly palatable. Already Todd’s elderly parents had been waiting over forty minutes for the Navy chaplain to begin the service, but Father Joseph couldn’t begin until the casket arrived.

That was still a hundred yards away, being slowly carried along the assigned route.

Brad stood at attention, sweating under the dark uniform that locked in the heat. He waited at the end of the line, the pallbearers made up of the current members of Todd’s SEAL team, a role Brad had forfeited when he’d turned down the promotion. Brad had opted out once his six-year enlistment had ended. Todd had signed back up without any hesitation or backward glances. There’d been no talking him out of staying a SEAL. Less than a year later, his best friend was dead.

Brad could still remember the conversation the night he left for St. Louis, both he and Todd in the local bar, sharing a pitcher of beer over several games of pool. Todd was between overseas deployments, training for the mission ahead.

“You were finally going to be on my team. The guys and I were ready for it.” Todd had taken a deep drink of the sudsy draft. Brad could still picture how he’d had to wipe his lip of the foam.

“Couldn’t do it,” Brad admitted. “I wish you’d followed me out.”

“Thought about it. But I’m not cut out for civilian life. My country needs me.”

“Scarlett needs you. She loves you.”

“Yeah. But trust me, she understands.” Todd drank more beer. Turned serious. “I need you to do me a solid. A favor. I’m shipping out in a few weeks.”

On the same mission Brad would also have been on, had he stayed. “Anything, man. What are friends for?”

“Good. I know I can trust you. You’ve always had my back. Got a letter. For Scarlett. Should something happen. Gonna snail mail it to you. I hope you’ll never need it, but if you do, give it to her when the time’s right.”

Scarlett. Todd’s wife. Brad’s secret high school crush. But once Todd had called dibs, that had been that. Brad had stood as best man at Todd and Scarlett’s wedding. Tried to forget how he felt about her. Told himself that thinking he was in love with her was nothing but a stupid obsession. A weakness to overcome. Something that would change when he found “the one.” Only the one had never shown up, and his feelings hadn’t changed. No woman compared.

The breeze shifted and Brad ignored the discomfort of standing at attention this long. On missions, he’d sat quiet and still for hours, but this was different and the pain was wearing him down. He’d received the package a few weeks after that night in the bar, and inside was a sealed envelope addressed to Scarlett, along with some handwritten, one-page notes addressed to Brad upon which Todd had scrawled his last wishes—detailed instructions that Brad would now follow with military precision.

The honor guard carrying the casket came into sight. Behind, Scarlett walked, her certain step and emotionless expression designed to hide her grief. Brad could hear the thumps now, the sound of metal hitting the top of the casket as each of Todd’s naval brethren removed his trident and set the metal badge atop the casket. The rhythmic thumping got louder as the casket came closer. “There’s Mommy,” he heard Todd’s two-year-old daughter say. She was too young to fully understand what was going on and too small to walk the distance. “Shh,” Todd’s mother soothed, holding Colleen tight.

Brad straightened further as the trident-covered casket came within his reach. The pallbearers slowed, and with a thump, Brad added his own trident. Then they went past and up onto the dais, where dignitaries waited to honor the life of a SEAL gone too soon, but one whose heroic actions had saved the lives in his unit. Like precision clockwork, everyone moved into place and the service started.

Brad had seen Scarlett briefly last night after he’d flown in from St. Louis, their hometown. Normally Todd would be buried there, but Scarlett had relayed those weren’t his wishes. Instead, inside the rental casket was an urn containing his ashes. His gaze caught hers, and he shot the full force of his sympathy toward her. She was a proud woman, Todd had warned in the missives he’d sent. She would resist all outside help. But Todd had given Brad a job. Thought his best friend could somehow succeed in helping when others failed, as Todd clearly believed they would.

Brad stared at the casket, at Todd’s weeping parents, and at the drained, sad face of Todd’s wife. Scarlett. No amount of telling her he was sorry would help now. He had to complete the mission as assigned.

He owed it to his friend.

He owed it to his friend’s daughter.

And he especially owed it to Scarlett.

The fact they were here today was entirely his fault.

Chapter One

The truth was, despite what all the songs said, including that one by Bon Jovi that really stuck in your head, you really couldn’t go home again. Certainly, you could drive down the same streets. However, because time had marched on, nothing was exactly the same. Old buildings were torn down, replaced with something new. Others were repainted. Reroofed. Even that same road had been widened. Potholes filled. Stoplights stood where stop signs once sufficed. Some shops closed and others took their place.

As Scarlett Harrison exited Highway 44 (pronounced farty-farty by the locals), she turned right and drove her aged Prius down Grand. She hadn’t returned to St. Louis in ten years, and found the trees along the Compton Reservoir barren, the park silent except for the one random jogger who braved the February midday chill and one homeless man who sat on a park bench wrapped in a threadbare blanket, his bag of possessions by his feet. She moved into the far left lane, already missing California and its sunshine and warmth. The groundhog had clearly seen his shadow yesterday, for winter didn’t want to give up its fervent grip on the Midwest. Thankfully St. Louis hadn’t been hit like Boston, with record snowfall.

Victor Street—wasn’t that name ironic—marked the end of her eighteen-hundred-mile journey, one she’d driven over the last four days. She’d closed on her and Todd’s starter house the last day of January, and taken off, staying in a hotel three nights as she plodded her way back across the country. She’d tried to make it fun for Colleen, making sure they saw some of America’s greatest wonders on the way, like the Grand Canyon.

Scarlett’s journey had really started approximately two years ago, when the two uniformed Naval officers had shown up unannounced on her doorstep. She’d fallen to the concrete stoop, her hands clutching the metal railing. They didn’t need to utter a word; she’d known why they’d come, and that what they would tell her would change her life forever.

Next came the funeral support team, and they’d become her navigators through the myriad of overwhelming arrangements. They’d stayed with her throughout the military service for her husband, who’d been her high school sweetheart. The only man she’d ever dated or loved. Oh, she’d tried to be strong. She’d tried to hold everything together, especially for her daughter Colleen’s sake. Her parents had flown out. Todd’s parents had flown out. She’d slept in the funeral home next to the flag-covered coffin, refusing to leave, even though all that was inside was an urn containing his ashes. She’d stood silent, sobs exhausted, as the honor guard folded that same flag into a tight triangle and placed it in her trembling hands. Later, after everyone had left the service, all she’d had left of her marriage was a flag and an urn. Her husband. Her future. Reduced to this.

She sighed and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel in a poor attempt to keep in sync with the radio. On Todd’s final mission, his actions had saved sixteen people, although she knew little more than that, whatever it had been was still classified. But top military brass had shaken her hand. Told her Todd was a hero. Hundreds had shown up to pay their respects. He’d sacrificed himself, they’d said, and she had the commendations he’d never see to prove his heroism. Those medals, along with that same American flag, rode with her luggage in the back, underneath the protective trunk cover that hid the contents out of sight. Yet they were little comfort.

Not even on Grand a minute or two, and immediately before she reached Tower Grove Park, she made a left onto Shenandoah, an immediate right on Arkansas one block down, and then another hard right into the alley directly before Victor. The house that Brad owned was a few down from the corner, although because of all the garages lining the narrow one-way alley, all she could see were rooflines. The last time she’d seen Brad was at Todd’ service. They’d known each other since high school, with Brad standing in as the best man at her and Todd’s Vegas wedding, one month after high school graduation and right before both men had shipped out to the Navy for basic training.