Chapter Three

 

NATALIE SET HER phone on the sturdy oak table and dropped her face into her hands, knowing she had to get it together before Calum arrived. They’d grown up more like brother and sister than cousins, their Grandma raising them after they’d both lost their parents in freak accidents, just a few months apart, when they’d been twelve and thirteen. They’d leaned on each other during that heartbreaking time, and on their grandma. She’d been their rock. Their anchor in stormy emotional seas.

Nat had been there for Calum when, gravely injured overseas, they’d airlifted him to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center, next to the U.S. air base at Ramstein, Germany. That injury caused his early retirement from the Marines. He’d been MARSOC, as had Zach, now that she thought about it. Both were tough, honorable, brave, handsome men. Only what she felt for Zach was way at the other end of the spectrum than what she felt for her cousin.

Shrugging away the attraction she felt for the big man, she called Pie Town, famous for their pizza, and placed an order—hungry but definitely not up to fixing dinner for Calum or herself. At the peal of the doorbell, Natalie laid her phone on the counter, took a deep breath and made her way down the hall into the parlor. Calum’s shadow darkened the entire stained-glass pane to the side of the door. It hadn’t taken him long to walk the four blocks from his home.

She plastered on a smile she knew for a fact didn’t reach her eyes and opened the door, arms spread wide. “Come give me a big hug and a kiss!”

A muscle ticked in his jaw as he looked her over before finally pinning her with worried, loving eyes. She knew what he saw. She’d lost weight. Was pale and couldn’t ditch the dark half-moons under her eyes. She gave him points for not jumping right into scolding her.

He shook his head and strode into the house, closing the door behind him. She felt a sliver of peace as his lips brushed her cheek and he wrapped her in his burly arms. “You’re in so much trouble, cousin.”

Releasing her, he stepped back and fisted his hands on his hips, his glower hot enough to melt asphalt as his eyes drilled into her, the same gold-flecked, moss-green as her own.

Attempting to dodge his questions, she blurted out, “I have tea ready in the kitchen, and Pie Town should deliver your favorite soon.”

“Trying to butter me up with food?”

Deftly moving around him, she hurried down the hall into the spacious old kitchen, her slight limp giving her away. She peeked over her shoulder and saw exasperation, worry, and an abundance of love written clearly on his expressive, dear face.

“At least wait until we’re settled before you yell at me.”

Her blatant ploy to disarm him had at least a fifty/fifty chance of working. He’d never been able to resist her cajoling, and she headed him off at the pass as she jumped right from the frying pan into the fire.

“I’m limping because I had surgery again, and I know you wish I’d told you, but there was nothing you could have done for me. You were so busy dealing with Grandma’s passing and the funeral. You didn’t need to be worrying about me too.”

Calum cursed and shot her a look of exasperation. “I knew your excuses for not coming out after she passed were feeble, that there was no way you’d have willingly missed her funeral. I should have flown out there to find out what you were up to.”

His frown could have peeled paint, and Natalie realized she wasn’t off the hook yet. They’d always been truthful with each other. She’d hated lying to him before, and just couldn’t bring herself to lie to him now.

“Truth? I couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle your sympathy if you came to help. Losing Grandma the day after another surgery was too much.”

She’d fallen and re-injured her leg a week before her grandma died, on the third anniversary of Matty’s death, and had considered just giving up. She’d barely found the energy to go through another surgery and come out the other side in one piece emotionally and physically.

Her throat ached from the strain of holding back tears. She’d cried a river the past twenty-four hours, shocked there was any left. If she didn’t get her act together and start living life again, her sadness and pain would consume her.

As she raised her eyes to his, she saw he understood far more than she’d given him credit for. “Her death, the surgery, the third anniversary and Christmas looming brought it all back, fresh. As if it had happened right then. Calum, I was so close to losing it. To losing my mind, like I did just after losing Matty.”

Calum rose, ignoring Nat’s raised hand, and went to one knee by her side, engulfing her in his familiar, comforting arms. She buried her face in his shoulder and a torrent of tears unleashed as he patted her back gently. “Nat, it’ll be okay, I swear.”

Her head felt like it weighed a ton when she raised shimmering eyes to his. “I’m sorry. I promised myself no more tears, and that I wouldn’t fall apart on you.”

Guilt bit at her at the thought of how she’d snapped at Zach’s little girl earlier in the day. “I thought I’d be okay, but almost had a panic attack on the porch earlier. I’d just pulled out of it when a little girl came up the steps. She reminded me so much of Matty. Same age, same size, same chocolate-brown eyes.”

Her gaze dropped to her clenched hands. “I was horrible to her, and it was Zach’s daughter. I must have hurt her feelings so badly. She just asked about turning on the Christmas lights, and I snapped at her. Why didn’t you tell me he lived next door?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, and I honestly didn’t even think to mention it when we talked about you moving back here. You’d met him just that once, at the hospital, right?”

“Well, yes, but we spent the better part of an entire week together. He was nice to me back then—we became friends of a sort—and maybe I could have prepared myself to see him again, and not been mean to his daughter.”

“I swear, he’ll understand, especially once he knows you’re coping with recovering from surgery, and he already knows about Grandma’s passing. I didn’t tell him you were moving in, either. He remembered you, didn’t he? Besides, he’s not the type to hold a grudge.”

She rose and turned around to grab the teapot. “Yes, he remembered me. After he shot daggers at me. He was very protective of his daughter. Not that I blame him. I would have acted the same way.”

Nat shook her head at him when he reached for her, swiping a stray tear from her cheek. “It was embarrassing, and when he tried to find out what upset me, I ducked into the house and slammed the door in his face. Oh, never mind, I’ll just stay away from him, and his daughter.”

She shot him a mutinous look and changed the subject. “I need you to help me with PT again. The reason I had another operation is that I tripped and fell down some stairs a week before we lost Grandma. The fibula was already weak from the previous injury and surgeries, and a new hairline fracture appeared. They had to put in a small rod.”

“Why didn’t you call me when you fell?”

She squirmed before meeting his hard gaze again. “Wasn’t a darned thing you could do. You’d missed enough work during my previous surgeries. I didn’t want to bother you, and then grandma died, and no way was I going to worry you while you were coping with that. I’m just sorry you had to deal with the funeral and everything by yourself.”

“That’s bullshit, Nat, and you know it! I make my own hours and can afford to take time off. What’s really going on here? It’s like you’ll do anything to sabotage getting better and being happy.”

She slapped her hands on the table and shouted back. “I don’t deserve to get better or be happy! I let my child die!”