My nod is polite, though I’m not sure the Tom Selleck circa Richard Burke mustache he’s sporting these days helps me unsee the doctor magician who once calmed my pre-appendectomy nerves by pulling a quarter from behind his ear.
The men make their own introductions before Mom tugs Rowan back to her side, whispering like they’re two old crones spilling the latest tea. Rowan says something, dimples flash, Mom slaps him across the arm and laughs. It’s as if Richard and I aren’t even here.
He’s older than I remember, but the kindness in his face has never left. It’s a kindness a young girl never forgets.
I find Mom again offering up that infectious joy of hers to Rowan like confetti shot from a cannon.
Only someone who knows my mother—the woman she’s always been—could look at her now, fully aware of what’s killing her on the inside, and still muster up the same joy she always seems to find for herself.
Richard’s smile as he watches her is proof of it. Suddenly, I don’t care if their relationship is romantic or not as long as she’s happy.
“I’ve got her,” he says, voice soft.
I cast a sidelong look at the doctor, neither of us quite ready to take our eyes off Mom. “Thank you.”
Night falls again,finding my soldier and I curled toward each other in the middle of the mattress.
His dog tags hang around his neck as they always do, but tucked beneath is a tattoo of three more tags layered on a single chain. I haven’t had the courage to ask about it yet because I recognize the names there.Shaw.
“Your mind’s working overtime. Just ask,” Rowan says.
I offer a sheepish grin and outline the edge of the tattoo with my finger. “Will you tell me about this one?”
He blindly taps each tag inked a few inches beneath the hollow of his collarbone. “Great grandfather, World War II. Pops, Vietnam. Dad, Afghanistan.”
Eighty years worth of Shaw men—a legacy of service. “Would you want your kids to serve?”
Rowan considers me for a moment. “My kids will do whatever they wanna do. I know what four generations must look like, but the military was never forced on me. Encouraged, maybe, but never forced. I chose it for myself.”
“What are you gonna do now?”
His cheeks puff out on a long breath. “Nothing. At least not right away. Nana and Pops left me with quite a bit. I have space to breathe for a while and figure out things with Mom before I need to make any long term decisions.”
Between the two houses and this property alone, I can imagine what type of nest egg Rowan has inherited. “You’re really lucky.”
He blinks slowly, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “I know.”
My eyes catch on a patch of rough skin on his shoulder opposite the anchor tattoo. I don’t know how I haven’t noticed it before tonight, perhaps the light is hitting it just right only now.
A lump forms in my throat as I touch it. “What’s this?”
Rowan’s hand covers mine, setting my palm flat over the two inch scar. “I’m not sure you wanna hear that one, baby.”
“You were shot.” Someone with a gun aimed it at him, pulled the trigger with the intent to kill. I can’t stop looking at it, picturing it.
He tilts my chin up with his thumb. “I survived.”
Emotion clenches my vocal cords, but I have to know more. “When?”
“About four years ago.”
It happened after we met. While I was spending time with his grandfather. And Norm didn’t tell me. I have no right to be mad because I asked him not to tell Rowan about me so why would he tell me about Rowan?
It’s for the best I didn’t know.Probably.Otherwise, I’d have beenterrified out of my mind and over what? A man I’d known for half a day? It would have been nonsensical. Yet I’m certain, had I known, I’d have stolen Norm’s phone and called him myself, begged him not to go back.
“You went back.” Not a question, but a painful truth. One that makes my eyes sting.
His only reply is the curl of his fingers around mine—a light squeeze to remind me he’s here. Safe. I may not get to keep him in Colorado with me, but at least I know he won’t have to go backthereagain.