What Part of Marine Don't You Understand? (The Challenge Series) (10 page)

“I wasn’t ready to hear it. I focused on my inability to adjust and kept blaming myself for the hearing loss. It sounds really stupid now, but I couldn’t see the forest for the trees.” He sent the stick sailing for Jethro and the dog raced after it. “I went home a few months ago—for the second time—and I’ve always felt like my family pressured me to be who I was before I enlisted and that I couldn’t live up to it. It’s like having tunnel vision, and I couldn’t see what my triggers really were. When I lost it there, I packed my bags and came straight back to Mike’s Place.”

He paused, his attention turned inward and she waited. If he wanted to finish the story, he would, she didn’t want to push. Jethro returned with the stick, and Matt threw it again, throwing it three more times before he sighed and looked at her.

“I promised James I would be honest with you. So here it is…I came back this time, and I decided I either got better, or I was done. I wouldn’t put my family through that again, and I didn’t think I could go through it again. I asked James today why he diagnosed me now, why they got me the dog and didn’t tell me about his training, what made this time so different….”

Naomi held her breath, the absolute quiet and certitude in Matt’s voice aged him.

“I was suicidal. I’d made the decision this time. No more sitting on the fence, it was over the wall or I was done.” He exhaled the words in a rush. “I sat with a gun on the table every night for a week.”

The information sent a shock of pain through her. She reached out and caught his hand. “Matt….”

“No, let me get this out or I won’t,” he admonished. “I couldn’t do it. I thought about it, worked it out in my head. Imagined what it would be like, but I couldn’t—wouldn’t—do it. I locked the gun away and took Jethro for a walk…and then I met you. I can’t get better for you, I can’t make my recovery about you, and I’m not doing that.”

Jethro dropped the stick and came over to rub against him. Matt wrapped his free arm around the dog and scratched between his ears. “We’re good, buddy. Almost done.” Squinting at her, Matt blew out a breath. “I’m damaged. It could take a lifetime to put the pieces back where they’re all supposed to be. You said last night you could handle it, and I believe you. I promise you I’m going to do my best to handle it, too. But we gotta be honest. I have to be honest with you and you have to tell me when it gets to be too much. That way—we do it together.”

She melted. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Tugging her hand, he pulled her closer and she crawled into his arms and met his kiss. “Matt—it won’t be easy. Nothing worth having ever is. I like what we have though, and I’m willing to fight for it.”

“Okay.” And when he said it, she heard the
I love you
.

“Think we can get naked now?”

Naomi laughed and rose, dusting the grass off her bottom. “Race you!” She sprinted, taking advantage of the few seconds he needed to get the leash on Jethro, but he made it to her door before her and as soon as the lock gave, they made it to the bed in record time.

Chapter Nine

By late afternoon, Naomi felt wrung out and limper than an overcooked spaghetti noodle. She poured everything she had into every single song. The band Phil hired proved exceptional. They took her music and turned it into something magical. Breaking for a quick dinner and with only two songs left to go, she begged off eating with everyone—walking down the street to a sandwich shop and finding a quiet place to sit and just be.

Making music was a dream—had been a fantasy for years—actually making it? Alone for five minutes in her head, her mind whirled with the possibilities. She checked her phone—four messages—all from her brothers and one from her sister-in-law. Hitting callback on Ryleigh’s number, she listened to it ring.

“Hello, Guitar Girl, glad you found five minutes to call me. I was starting to feel ignored.” Eight years her senior, Ryleigh became the sister Naomi never had. Brent met her in high school and they dated through junior college, his boot camp, and married before his first deployment.

“I heard tell of ovulation so I really didn’t want to interrupt.” She could totally discuss that topic with her sister-in-law.

“Ahh, yes. We’re safe, I promise. Brent’s got meetings on the Hill for hours yet. It’s almost like he’s deployed, only I get to see him for five minutes each night before he falls asleep on the sofa.”

“Things going good then?” The breeze off the river, the sun dappling the sidewalk, and the quiet murmur of background conversation helped Naomi relax.

“Really good. He likes what he’s doing, but even when he complains, you can see it in his eyes, you know?”

Yeah, Naomi knew. Brent loved a good fight. Win or lose, he thrived in the trenches and against the odds. “I know you were worried when he decided to run.”

“Yeah, but he won the election and he’s a junior Congressman from Texas, so—give him thirty-two more years and he’ll be leading all those committees he’s battling with right now.”

“Ha, I bet he does it in sixteen.” Or less. Brent didn’t give up.

“Probably.” Ryleigh’s tone was very dry. “But I didn’t call you to talk about your brother. Charlie ratted you out.”

“Of course he did.” As close as the brothers were, Brent probably knew ten minutes after she and Charlie hung up. Surprisingly, Brent hadn’t called her on it already.

“I twisted Brent’s arm to leave you alone.” Saved by her sister-in-law. Yes, Naomi loved her for a reason.

“Thank you.”

“Any time. But does that earn me some capital to ask questions?”

She laughed. “His name is Matt. He’s a Marine, retired. He got hurt in Iraq and he’s coping with some issues, but he’s a great guy—really sweet and so much fun.”

“Sweetie, you know I’m not going to discourage you but….”

Naomi bit her lip. “Ry—I get it, you’ve been here. You were here when Brent came home and you went through hell with him.”

“Yeah. I don’t want you to get in over your head or get hurt. If his issues….”

“I don’t care. I mean I do, but we all have problems. We all struggle with life and maybe—maybe I haven’t been through the war the way he has, but I’ve been through it on this side, just like you. I want to be there for him, I want Matt to know he has someone in his corner.”

“You never do anything halfway do you?” Indulgent affection softened her tone.

“Do any Sparks do anything halfway?” It wasn’t in their genetic makeup. She was in love, flaws and all.

“No. None of you do—exasperating and beautiful family that you are.”

“Hey now, Mrs. Sparks, you need to include yourself in that, too.”

“Oh, without a doubt.” Ryleigh’s lighthearted tone sobered. “If you are determined and I know you—you are—call me if it gets bad. You don’t have to do this alone…there are a lot of organizations out there for families like us and I want you to write these down.”

Naomi listened intently, and after five minutes she dug a pencil out of her purse and jotted notes onto a pad of paper. Her respect for her sister-in-law used to be high.

By the time the call finished, it was immeasurable.

***

Airports sucked.

Matt hated dropping her off in the morning. Hated it even more than the press of people rushing in to make their early morning flights. Naomi insisted he drop her off at the curb, which he hated. But his fluctuating mood and fraying temper warned him against pushing himself any harder.

He kissed her goodbye and watched her disappear inside with her overnight bag. Unfortunately, he couldn’t and didn’t relax until she’d texted that she arrived in Nashville. His pacing nearly wore a groove in James’ carpet. It frustrated him that the act of getting out of the truck proved so difficult. Jethro stayed with him, but even the dog seemed to miss Naomi and looked for her in the park when they went for their run.

She called at noon but didn’t have more than a few minutes to speak. The recording was going well and her enthusiasm bubbled through the phone at him. The dappled sunshine in his day went away when they hung up. He focused on getting the last of his paperwork filled out, had lunch with the guys, and took another run in the afternoon.

The hours between dropping her off and her return flight stretched out interminably. James brought a service vest around for Jethro. The outfit would allow Matt to take Jethro into the airport to wait for her—and he had every intention of being inside when she exited the secure area.

A sketchy dinner of frozen burritos and another run for Jethro killed an hour. A shower and bad science fiction movie killed another couple of hours. Her text galvanized him.

On flight. Barely. Have to shut off phone. Lots of news. Can’t wait to see you.

His phone vibrated a second time.

Okay
.

He grinned. He attached so much value to that one, stupid little word.

“Woo hoo. She’s on her way, boy. You want another walk before we drive?” The flight would take a good two hours, but he wanted to be there.

And he would be there when she walked through those doors.

Late night at DFW airport was thankfully quiet, with curbside check-in closed, as were most of the counters. Airport security spread thin, but present. Matt found a spot near the exit doors for her flight and settled along a wall. Jethro sat sentry next to him and they waited for their girl.

He’d known her a handful of days and she’d become that important to him. It shouldn’t surprise him, he’d always been the guy who knew what he wanted. The two-year struggle with indecision about his place in the world faded to a bad memory. He didn’t have answers, he didn’t have guarantees, hell—he didn’t have a job.

The security doors ahead opened and passengers began to exit in ones and twos. Matt straightened. Naomi sailed through the doors, her cell phone in her hand. Their gazes collided and her grin pierced him like a bright ray of sunshine.

What he did have was a future and a plan.

What the hell else did a Marine need?

Epilogue

Six months later
….

“Good evening, Dallas,” Naomi spoke into the microphone. The butterflies in her stomach flapped madly, but she pushed through it. Five hundred people filled the ballroom for the fundraiser. “My name is Naomi Sparks. Everyone has met my brother, Congressman Sparks, earlier. Once upon a time, we lived here in the Dallas area and my brother played football with Captain Luke Dexter in high school. Both would go on to join the Marines, both served their country with distinction, and both continue that service—to their friends, their family, and the Corps.”

Applause rose up to meet her announcement, and she waited for it to calm down. “It’s been my privilege to grow up in a Marine family, to support my brothers and my father—to be amazed by my mother and my sister-in-law….” She glanced at the family table. Her mother dabbed at her eyes and Ryleigh sat, a hand on her very pregnant tummy, Brent’s arm around her shoulders.

“These women—like so many of you here tonight who are members of military families—continually inspire me with their dedication to their armed forces, to those who serve. They keep the home fires burning, support their Marines, wage every battle by their sides, and fight even more to keep them safe when they come home.”

Another round of applause interrupted her and she grinned. “Mike’s Place was the brainchild of Captain Dexter and is supported fully by every family I have met here in the last several months. It has been a rare honor to get to know the men and women who work here, who come here for help, and who, in turn, volunteer their time. Our Armed Forces family is much larger than we ever realize—we all serve, we all support, we all bleed together—six months ago I recorded an album for the first time and tonight, the Dexters invited me to perform some songs from this album.”

Her nerves fluttered again and she let her gaze travel from table to table, lingering on her family and on the table next to theirs. The McCalls were there, all of them seated just a few feet from the Sparks save for one.
Her
McCall wasn’t there.

“Some injuries we can’t see, we can’t just put a BandAid on them and make them better. We can only make our way through each day, claiming small victories and celebrating our accomplishments. We can comfort the setbacks and pick ourselves up to meet the challenge the next day. We all know this, but when I recorded the album, I never imagined how difficult, or how rewarding, this fight can be. I have known the love of so many Marines in my life and tonight I am dedicating these songs to those Marines and to the one Marine that takes my breath away—every single day. He inspires me, he fills me with hope, and he makes me a better person for loving him.”

Swallowing back a clog of tears, she tried to make good on her promise not to cry. “I’m supposed to be telling you that all the proceeds from the album will be going to Mike’s Place to continue the work they do here, but I wanted to say that last night—my Marine asked me to marry him….” Applause roared up and Naomi’s smile grew, the tears in her eyes making it hard to see. At her father’s raised eyebrows, she winked. “I told him yes, Daddy.”

The crowd’s thunderous applause drowned out anything else she could say, and it took another few minutes for them to settle again. Turning her head, she stared at the backstage wing and met Matt’s wild grin. He couldn’t take the crowd, but he could stand there—two of his friends flanking him and Jethro sitting proudly next to him.

“So this song is for you, Matt.”

He mouthed ‘okay’ and her heart soared. Leaning away from the microphone, she adjusted her guitar and started to play. It was the only song he’d not heard—the one she re-wrote that afternoon in Nashville.

What part of Marine don’t you understand
….

~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~

Heather Long lives in Texas with her family and their menagerie of animals. As a child, Heather skipped picture books and enjoyed the Harlequin romance novels by Penny Jordan and Nora Roberts that her grandmother read to her. Heather believes that laughter is as important to life as breathing and that the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus are very real. In the meanwhile, she is hard at work on her next novel.