Chapter Thirteen

As Grace and Bruce stood on either side of Heath, moving him through the crowd, the fireworks continued a non-stop barrage. His whole body shook, and she could feel the effort needed to simply put one foot in front of the other. Grace sensed a crack growing inside of him. She hoped they’d get him to a safe place before the flood was released.

“Grace, I want you to drive him home,” Dad commanded.

“Okay.” She tried so hard not to break down into tears at the sight of this strong man, crumbling like a dried clump of earth.

He had slipped out of reality, into another place and time. Heath lost his footing.

The weight of his body was more than Grace could support.

He fell to his knees and raised his hands to cover his ears. A groan came from deep inside him.

The sound ripped apart her soul. She knelt and gently cupped his face in her hands. “Heath,” she whispered. “Look at me. You’re in Texas. You’re safe.”

His wild gaze met hers with a glimmer of comprehension.

Bruce grabbed Heath’s arm and helped him to his feet. “Grace will drive you home. Just hold on…you’ll be out of here soon.”

Bruce opened the door of her car, but Heath’s stomach gave way.

Grace jumped back and frowned.

“Once he feels safe, he’ll calm down,” her dad said over the boom of more fireworks.

With Heath now in the car, she turned the ignition key and peeled out of the parking lot. Her hands and wrists ached from her tight grip on the steering wheel. The drive home was a blur, with her mind going in a million different directions. Admitting that she cared for Heath was easy. But realizing how deep those feelings had become was a difficult pill to swallow. His pain had become her pain. Could time and love heal his broken spirit?

She turned onto the gravel drive and drove under the True Horizon sign. Besides a few outdoor lights, the house and grounds were dark. Turning off the car, she sat quiet and still. The metallic ping of the cooling engine echoed in the car.

Heath continued to stare out the window. He turned to face her. “Thank you.”

His voice sounded as rough as stone. “Will you sit on the porch with me for awhile? The night air will help clear your head.”

After a nod, Heath followed her onto the porch and sat on a white rocking chair.

“Would you like a drink? Something to smooth out your nerves?”

He nodded before staring out into the darkness.

When she returned, she placed a short glass of whiskey in his hand and a bottle of water on the table. In her other hand was a damp towel. “You have a little mess on your face.” She knelt before him. The moment she started washing his face, his whole body slackened.

****

Slowly, Heath returned to reality. Grace served as his anchor and her calming presence soothed his troubled mind. The warmth of her hand on his face relaxed him more than any shot of whiskey. Grace’s dark hair, backlit by the porch light, made her look like his personal angel of mercy.

“There.” She laid the washcloth over the porch rail before taking a seat in the rocker next to him. “You look better.”

“I’m sorry about what happened.” He cleared his throat. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you and your family.” The ringing in his ears dimmed to a low-pitched buzz. At the park, he’d been caught completely off guard. His shock had turned so quickly to panic. If not for Grace and her family, he would have been utterly lost.

“I won’t pretend to understand what you’re going through. But I’m a good listener, if you ever feel like sharing your burden.”

Needing a physical connection, he took hold of her hand. Her engagement ring dug into his palm, stinging his skin. “I couldn’t save him. My best friend died because I failed.”

“What was his name?” she asked.

Her voice was calm and soothing, like wind rippling through prairie grass. “John Ellis. We were friends for over eight years. Both of us were Green Berets, assigned to the same team. He was a weapons specialist, and I was trained as a medic. We were as close as brothers…no, even closer.” His memories of John had been locked away, kept private to ward off the pain. Now, his complete trust in Grace helped him unburden some of the weight crushing his chest.

“How did he die?”

“We were on a highly classified mission.” Heath slipped backward in time and saw the events unfold before him. “Our team was in pursuit of a highly valuable target. John was shot several times. I tried to treat him. We were taking enemy fire…we had to fall back.” He took a long drink, the liquid burning a path to his stomach. A rogue muscle in his cheek twitched in time to the pounding of his heart. “By the time the medevac chopper arrived, it was too late.”

“And you blame yourself.”

Her words were more of a statement than a question. “Every single day,” he answered without hesitation. “I was trained to save lives, and I couldn’t save my best friend. He died on my watch.”

Grace squeezed his hand. “You were in combat and were forced to make quick decisions. With the hindsight you have now, could you have done anything different?”

Heath rubbed his face with his free hand. “I don’t know. I would give anything to have another chance. John left behind a wife and young son. For over a year, Julie didn’t know how her husband died because of the classified nature of the mission. I let her suffer, until I finally got the nerve to tell her the truth.”

The crickets played their evening melody.

Heath looked over to see a frown on Grace’s face. Panic hit him like a punch in the gut. Did his failure change her opinion of him?

She sighed. “When good men die it is a tragedy, especially so when they’re young. You would have done anything to save him, even risk your own life. I think what happened that day was well out of your control.”

He shifted in his seat to face her. “Guilt is the price I have to pay. I’m here…and he’s not.” He paid every day. The guilt may recede but it never went away, even in his sleep.

A tear glistened in the corner of Grace’s eye. She entwined her fingers with his. “If he was your friend then he would want you to be happy. He’d be mad if he knew you still carried all this guilt, right?”

The idea of John returning for one last fight made Heath smile. “Yeah, he’d probably whack me upside the head with the end of his rifle.”

“How many lives do you think you’ve saved over the years?” Grace lifted her gaze to look him in the eyes.

As he flipped through his memory bank, the question hung in the air. So many battles were fought. Too many injured teammates to count. “I’ll never really know,” he said. “But that was my job. I was there to save lives.”

“Because of you, countless men and women are alive today. I want you to remember that whenever you feel guilt over John.”

In his mind, he pictured a scale. A side for the good he’d done and a side for the bad. In the end, he couldn’t deny the bad side would always carry more weight. John wasn’t the only one who’d been hurt by his failures. So many other people had died because of him. He could never tell Grace the entire story. If she knew the truth, she’d hate him.

“Twelve years was a long time to serve.” Grace rocked back and forth in the chair. “Leaving the Army must’ve been a tough transition.”

“When I drove through Fort Bragg’s gate and saluted the MP on duty for the last time, I was an emotional wreck. The first week I spent with my Aunt Linda in Florida. She’d taken me in when I was eight years old and is the only family I have left. After that, I drove to Georgia and checked into a motel, and then spent the next two weeks stone drunk.” To her credit, Grace’s face remained relaxed, with no hint of judgment.

He swallowed hard, pushing down the lump in his throat. “I wanted to die. My body hurt from the abuse received over the years in the military, and then I had voices in my head, telling me my life wasn’t worth the struggle. I took out my gun and pressed the barrel against my head. I couldn’t stand another day of living with myself.” On that day, he’d sunk into a deep darkness. The same pit as so many other warriors, some who’d never made it out alive. “I just couldn’t pull the trigger.”

“Thank goodness you didn’t.” Grace sucked in a breath. “You deserve your life, Heath. You deserve to be happy.”

The light touch of her finger moved over a long scar on his arm. The simple action spread warmth throughout his body. “After I sobered up, I decided to take a road trip. First, I went to see John’s widow, Julie. Then I came to Texas. I’ve been working odd jobs ever since. Being here, working at the ranch, I finally feel useful again. I enjoy caring for the animals. I like the freedom, the fresh air, and the open space.”

“I think you were meant to find your way here.” Her rocking chair continued to produce a rhythmic squeak against the plank wood floor. “We don’t know each other very well, and I’m not a therapist, but I promise to listen if you ever need someone to talk to. I care about you.”

All the air emptied from his lungs. He searched her eyes until his gaze dropped to her parted lips. All sane thoughts left his mind.

Grace leaned forward.

She smelled sweet, like a strawberry, and he lost the fight to maintain control. He didn’t care that she wore another man’s engagement ring, that he worked for her father, or that he wasn’t good enough for her. Every cell in his body screamed to take her in his arms and kiss her. He brushed a trembling thumb across her bottom lip.

Grace made a low, throaty moan.

His lips were inches away when the sound of tires on gravel brought him back to reality. Headlights cut the darkness, and he leaned back.

The car came to a stop. Bruce and Joslyn got out and headed straight toward the porch.

“How are you doing, son?” Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder.

“A lot better, sir.” Heath stood to put some more distance between Grace and himself, leaning against the porch rail. “I’m so sorry about what happened…I find my behavior hard to explain.”

Shaking his head, Bruce waved his hand. “I’m the one who should be sorry. You had no idea those fireworks were coming. I did.”

Joslyn stepped next to her husband, her petite frame only reaching Bruce’s shoulder. “My dear boy, I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through in service to our country. My older brother fought in Vietnam. I saw what that did to him. Don’t ever apologize for things that are beyond your control.”

Heath looked around him, at people who cared about his well being. Their kindness touched his soul. “Thank you, ma’am. I should turn in for the night.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he descended the porch steps. When he was halfway across the lawn, he turned back to see Grace still standing on the porch.

Her smile beamed across the dark empty space between them before she turned and went inside the house.

He could barely contain his emotions. When he entered the bunkhouse, he slammed the door behind him and braced his back on its sturdy surface. Years of unshed tears flowed from his eyes, which acted like a cleansing rain, washing away anger and pain. He cried for John, his lost brother, and for all the innocent people he’d seen die. Lastly, he cried for himself and the small seed of hope at a second chance.

Grace’s face swam into view. The kiss they’d almost shared pricked at his conscience. She’d soon be married, and he’d inserted himself into her life, with so little regard for her future happiness. He’d let his own strong feelings for her totally supersede all other considerations. His attraction needed to stay locked away in his heart. She would be a friend—nothing more.

The time was well past midnight before he finally crawled into bed. Bomb blasts flashed behind his closed eyes. Please, don’t drag me back to the land of death. Tonight, let me dream about a dark-haired girl dancing across the Texas prairie.