The Second Chance Hero (21 page)

Veterans Day

Kim stood with the Albanese family once again, but this time it was at a simple prayer service at the cemetery. Her parents and siblings stood behind her while a priest from a local parish said a few words about Tom, and Tom’s sister Tina gave a heartfelt talk about her brother. The biggest difference between today and Tom’s funeral just a year and a half ago was the man standing next to her. Owen was with her this time, in his full dress uniform, looking very impressive even though he was still going to be using a cane for at least another month or two. He was improving far more rapidly than anyone anticipated, but Kim figured that was because the man was set on proving the orthopedist and the physical therapists wrong.

The most surprising part of the morning was that when they arrived, Owen told her that Tom’s parents had asked him, as Tom’s commanding officer, to speak on the family’s behalf.

Mr. and Mrs. Albanese had come to grips with the changes in Kim’s life, and they understood those changes didn’t necessarily mean she was disloyal to their son. They had also started to let go of their grief. No easy task, as Kim well understood.

Owen caught Kim staring at her engagement ring, and he smiled. He’d given it to her as soon as he’d arrived back in the States, and Kim couldn’t be more excited about the life they were going to have together. But she was reflective, too. A year ago, she never imagined she’d be happy again, forget planning a wedding. And it wasn’t that she felt guilty. She didn’t. She was just aware of how much she had to be thankful for. It was humbling.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Actually, I’m fine. I feel better than I have in a long time.”

“Okay.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m up.”

“Good luck,” she said quietly.

Easing his way forward on the blanket of freshly cut grass, he turned, and his full military bearing took Kim’s breath away.

“I was asked to speak by Mr. and Mrs. Albanese for Tom. I was his commanding officer, albeit for only two weeks, and I’m honored to be included. Tom Albanese was a model marine, a model friend, and a model son and brother. He was fiercely loyal to those with whom he served, and as a result, people were equally loyal to him.”

Kim watched the man she loved deliver the most eloquent of speeches, honoring the boy she’d also loved. And that was the difference. Tom was her boyfriend, and Owen had transcended that label from the start.

They’d been through hell and back starting in Afghanistan over a year ago, and ending with her going to him in Germany.

It was where she gave him a piece of her mind. Where she cried because she loved him so much, and where she asked him to marry her.

Now she was planning a wedding and the women in the Albanese family were actually ordering dresses. Owen managed to win them all over.

Okay. Maybe not all. Zia Bunny wasn’t going to be invited, and Tom’s grandma still wasn’t so sure. Nonna sat in the row just in front of her, and the old woman leaned back and shook her rosary at Kim. “He’s too handsome, that one. You be careful.” But Jenna was happy for her and she squeezed Kim’s hand. So was Harper, who was losing a nanny but gaining a live-in relative, since her mother would be taking Kim’s place.

She’d accepted a job as a nurse in a midsize hospital emergency room not too far from where she and Owen would be living. She would see car accidents, heart attacks, and backyard injuries rather than blown-off limbs, but that was fine with her. She was content to do good work with people who needed her. At the end of the day when she walked in the door, she’d be coming home to her guy. That was all the rush she needed in her life.

Owen finished his talk by placing a wreath on Tom’s grave. He uttered something quietly when he stood at the headstone.

The service broke up, and on this beautiful fall day there was no running, no drama, just memories of the man they lost.

While they walked to the car, Kim hooked her arm through Owen’s, partially to give him a little extra support and partially for her to be closer to him. “What did you say at the grave when you placed the wreath?”

Owen stared ahead, not talking, doing his best to keep his gait steady. Every step was becoming an effort, and Kim nudged him toward one of the benches to take a rest. He didn’t fight her. “You have to stop overdoing it. Healing takes time.”

“It’s easy to say when it’s not your leg. I need to feel normal again.”

“You will, but you can’t rush it.”

They sat for a few minutes in silence when, without warning, a boy in a Cub Scout uniform stood before Owen. Around seven years old, he stood ramrod straight and extended his small hand. “Thank you for your service, sir.”

Kim was so moved by the boy, she teared up a little. Owen shook his hand and smiled. “Thank you for your support.”

“Are you a hero?” the boy asked, pointing at his cane. Owen had told her how much he hated that his last mission had people calling him a hero, even though he’d saved three young lives and had risked his own. Pretty damn heroic in her book. But Kim always saw him as a hero. Every single day he tried to help someone. She was sure he’d saved her.

“No, I just did my job.” He took Kim’s hand. “You see this lady here, son? She worked in a hospital in a war zone. She saved soldiers’ and marines’ lives when they were hurt. People like me.
She’s
a hero.”

“No, I . . .”

“Really?” the boy said. “You really did that?”

The conversation continued a few more minutes until the boy’s father came over, thanked Owen, and the pair left.

“I really hate that people don’t know everything you’ve done,” he muttered. “You’re the hero.”

“I wasn’t in it for pats on the back. And I know you aren’t, either.” Kim stretched her legs in front of her. “And me? A hero? I did my job, Owen, just like you said.”

“You saved people. Gave them a second chance at life.”

Looking down at their clasped hands, Kim dropped her head on his shoulder. “I kind of feel like that’s what you’ve done for me. You’re my second chance.”

They were quiet again. Several minutes passed, and Kim realized he’d never answered her. “You never told me what you said at the headstone.”

Owen drew a deep breath and kissed the top of her head. “I told him I’d take good care of you. That I’d wake up every day with the goal of making you happy.”

“Oh.” Her heart didn’t know how it held all the love she had for this man. He was so good. So unbelievably good.

“He loved you, Kim. He screwed up. But he loved you.”

And for the first time in a long time, she felt it. And she knew how lucky she was to have been loved by two really wonderful men. “I know.”

“I just thought I should say something.”

“I’m sure you got a cosmic
oo-rah
!”

Owen laughed and throwing his arm around her shoulder, pulled her close. Her face pressed against the clutch of ribbons on his chest, reminders of the trials he’d seen. Of his accomplishments. Of the man he was. And after they’d sat there for a while, just holding each other, he stood. “That
oo-rah
is an awesome thought,” he said, taking her hand.

Standing and stepping close to him, she smiled. “I’m sure we have his blessing. Let’s go home.”

When Owen kissed her, Kim felt one of the small cracks that the past few years had left in her heart mend. It was like a tiny miracle. Every time he touched her or kissed her or did something kind, her world was better. Safer. More complete.

There were so many things Kim could say to him right now, but silence seemed most appropriate. She thought about Tom and his family. About her family. About Harper and Kevin and Anna and everyone at Reliance. About the crazy string of events that brought her and Owen together.

In some ways, she was still trying to wrap her head around the last six months. For Kim, love was something you did. You dated someone, the relationship grew, and that was that. It was never something that happened, that found you. But in this case, it did. Owen found her. Love happened, and it happened big.

She couldn’t imagine her life without him.

Owen was her hero. Now. Always. Forever.

As always, there are people to thank. And this book, and the characters within, would not have come to life without the help of so many special individuals.

To my fellow writers, who are always there to help with ideas, stave off impending breakdowns, and cheer me on, you have my heartfelt thanks. Jolyse Barnett, Jennifer Gracen, Patty Blount, Liz Slawinski and Myra Platt, you have no idea how much you’ve helped me stay on track and make this book something special.

I am always grateful to the members of my writing groups, the Long Island Romance Writers and CTRWA. You are my kindred spirits and I consider your friendship and camaraderie a priceless gift.

Many thanks to my friend Jessica Scott for her patience, her insight about the military, and for helping me tweak the details. If there are mistakes in this book, they are mine alone.

A great big shout out to the team at NAL/InterMix for their continuous work on my behalf. Endless gratitude goes to my editor, Jennifer Fisher. Jenn, you helped me get the best out of this story, and I couldn’t have asked for better insight throughout the process. I could probably write a lot more, but the most honest thing I can say is: thank you for everything. Owen and Kim thank you, too.

My agent Stephany Evans provides guidance and advice, and reality checks, as needed. Thanks, Steph, for keeping my head on straight.

My family is everything to me. My wonderful kids make me proud every day, and my husband is the reason I can write love stories. It’s that simple. Thank you, my darlings, for walking this path with me.

Finally, to you my wonderful readers, I thank you for being with me on this journey. I hope you all love this story as much as I do.

Jeannie Moon
has always been a romantic. When she’s not spinning tales of her own, Jeannie works as a school librarian, thankful she has a job that allows her to immerse herself in books and call it work. Married to her high school sweetheart, Jeannie has three kids, three lovable dogs, and resides on Long Island, New York. If she’s more than ten miles away from salt water for longer than a week, she gets twitchy. Visit Jeannie’s website at jeanniemoon.com.