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ENRIQUE WAITED AT THE bottom of the stairs so Art could have a private moment with Mia and Skylar. The two guys and their aunt had been cuffed and taken away, two of them in an ambulance. Still brimming with uniforms, the house looked like a war zone. A man and woman in CSI jackets lugged what looked like large tackle boxes into the house.
Art carried Mia downstairs. “We’re going to take care of her statement. Maybe you can see to Skylar. She got banged up.”
Enrique took the steps two at a time. “Are you okay?” He ran his hands down Skylar’s arms, searching her face.
“Yes and no.” She looked dazed.
“Start with yes.” He led her to the bathroom and had her sit on the counter.
“I did what I needed to do and Mia is safe.” She winced when he used a wet cloth to wipe blood from a small cut on the top of her hand. “I wasn’t sure I could bring my A game but when they showed up, it all clicked.”
Enrique rinsed the cloth and wrung it out. “Why weren’t you sure?”
“When I’m with Mia, I’m not as aware of everything else. After Peter stopped by, I was worried I’d screw up if anything happened.”
“You hardly screwed up, Sky. Every one of those cops wants you in the next police academy.” He dabbed at the dried blood near the cut on her chin, careful not to touch the actual wound. “You could use a butterfly bandage on this one. My med bag’s in the car.”
Skylar didn’t answer.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She sighed heavily. “I’m just going to come right out and say it. I can’t stay here. It feels like Joe is in every room.” She met his gaze. “I’m sorry. I know I told you it was your decision, but when you’re not here, I feel like I’m being sucked under. I’m afraid of what will happen to me if I stay. I feel like I’m falling apart.”
“I wondered how this would go.” Enrique stroked her cheek with his thumb. He’d get the bandage later. “Let’s sit down.” He led her to the love seat in the master bedroom and they collapsed together.
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I was doing so well. I thought I was out of the woods. I did this for Mia. I wanted her to have—” her voice cut out.
Enrique rested a hand on her thigh. “And that’s one of the reasons I love you. You have such a big heart. But you haven’t been the same since you’ve been here. And it’s only been a few days.”
“It’s like June all over again, only without the drinking. But I’m afraid I might start up again. I’m turning into emo-girl. I hate it. It’s not normal for me.”
Enrique sighed. “Skylar, it’s okay about the house. I was leaning that direction anyway. But now that I see what it’s doing to you, I know we can’t stay.” He put an arm around her, drawing her to his side. “But that’s not the only problem.”
“What are you saying?”
“When I got back from my tour, I kept waiting to get back to normal. Up here.” He touched the side of his head. “It took a while—and some help from other people—but I finally figured out that what I went through changed me. I can’t go back to who I was before. I always thought I’d pursue a medical career. But after the war I couldn’t bring myself to apply for any of those jobs, even though they paid well and I was desperate for money. I’d seen enough trauma. And what happened with Swan made me lose my confidence. I had to do something different.” He settled deeper into the sofa, bringing her with him. “I used to love going to things like concerts and games. But I can’t stand it now.”
“Why?”
“Part of it is the stress. When you’re over there, you know you’re a target. Every minute of every day, all you think about is how to avoid being killed. When you’re out in the open, you calculate how many steps it is to the next cover. And you’re constantly scanning for snipers or people who could be carrying a bomb in their clothing. Insurgents don’t wear uniforms and they don’t give a damn about the rules of warfare. So anyone—even a child—can be a tool of the enemy. It’s gotten better but I still don’t like crowds. It’s impossible to relax.”
“I never thought about that.” She rested a hand on his thigh.
He picked it up, threading their fingers. “My point is, you probably shouldn’t expect to be the same as you were before. Even if you’re not living here. You’ve been through a personal tragedy. Why wouldn’t it change you?”
Skylar groaned. “But what about Mia?”
“I think Mia cares more about having a family than where we live. Besides, kids are resilient. You said yourself she shouldn’t be treated like a victim. Look how well she handled what happened tonight. All it took was a little coaching.”
“But—”
Enrique shifted, cupped her face in his hands. “Skylar. You are the reason she’s safe, maybe even alive. Taking care of yourself isn’t selfish. If you fall apart, where will she be? And what will it do to you and me?”
After a long silence, she said, “You’re right.”
“I know.”
She poked his ribs. “I have to go make a statement. If Mia’s done, will you see if she wants any help getting ready for bed? I don’t think she’ll be able to go to sleep on her own. Maybe you guys can read or something. I don’t want her downstairs until we get it cleaned up.”
“Sure.”
––––––––
Skylar met Mia and Art on the landing midway up the stairs. She gave Mia a hug and a kiss. “Enrique’s waiting to tuck you in. I’ll come up in a bit.”
She nodded, covering a yawn.
Art stooped to give Mia a hug. “Go get some sleep.” To Skylar he said, “Your turn.” He gestured toward the detective, who gave a slight nod.
Skylar signaled that she’d be a minute. “Dad, thank you for being here.”
Art eyed her. “Of course.”
“No, I don’t just mean here. Tonight. I mean through this whole thing. I shut you out. And for a long time, I resented you.”
“Honey. You don’t need to—”
“I just want to tell you that it’s going to be different. I mean, I want things to be different. Moving forward. I didn’t have the chance to tell you ... we found out today that we’re clear to adopt Mia. Well, there’s Enrique’s background check—”
“He’s clear.”
She smacked him on the arm. “Dad.”
He lifted an unapologetic brow. “That’s great news about Mia.”
Skylar rolled her eyes. “I want Mia to know you. And Elana. And the boys.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed once. “I want that, too.”
Skylar kissed his cheek and gave him a brief hug. “You’re so gonna pay for checking him out.”
He laughed and prodded her toward the detective.
When the house was finally quiet, Skylar pulled Enrique out of the study where he’d just finished scrubbing blood off the floor. The furniture was back in place and everything that had been broken had been thrown away, the mess swept or vacuumed. The only evidence of what happened was the missing trim on the doors. Art had called a friend who promised to take care of repairs the following day. The front door was being held shut with a sliding lock her father had found in the garage. “We should get some sleep.”
He answered with a yawn, grabbed his duffel and followed her up the stairs. They got ready for bed like a couple of zombies. Too spent for anything else, they snuggled together and fell asleep.
Skylar awoke just after three in the morning. Enrique had turned to his other side and was sleeping soundly. Wide awake, she stared at the ceiling, knowing she wouldn’t get back to sleep. After several minutes, she slipped out of bed and went downstairs. The only sound in the house was a low whir coming from the refrigerator.
She wandered the front room. Joe had brought in a wood worker who added a wall of built-in bookshelves that matched the smaller originals on the opposite side. It was impossible to look out the front windows without remembering the weekends they’d worked on the landscaping together. One day—the day they’d planted the roses—she’d thrown a dirt clod at Joe and they’d ended up slathered in mud, too dirty to go inside without hosing off first. All the memories conspired, bringing a crushing weight on her heart. This was their place. Where they’d planned to raise a family and grow old together.
The study drew her like a magnet and she sat at Joe’s desk, running her hands over the smooth, cool surface. She opened a drawer and took out the photo of him in his pitching stance dressed in his Rockies uniform. He’d been so proud to play his last season in Denver. In spite of his career-ending shoulder injury that cut the season short, he was grateful to the hometown fans who cheered at each game. As she had so many times, Skylar traced the lines of his body. “I’m so sorry, Joe. I wish—” she choked off. “Please forgive me.” She moved to the bookshelf, picking up his baseball, fingering the spines of his books. “I will always love you. Always.”
Then she took a deep breath, knowing what she needed to do.
––––––––
In the middle of the night, Enrique turned over and reached out for Skylar. Her side of the bed was empty. “Sky?” He sat up and listened, hearing nothing. The clock on the night table read three thirty-two. Had he slept through Mia waking with a nightmare? He tugged on his pants and headed down the hall. Mia’s door was closed, so he stood and listened outside. Then he noticed a dim glow in the hallway downstairs. Maybe Skylar was hurting from being knocked around. He padded toward the kitchen, but didn’t find her there. A noise drew him to the basement stairs. “Skylar?”
“I’m down here.” Rustling noises drifted up.
He descended the steps. She was wrestling with a stack of flattened boxes in a corner. They seemed to be caught on something. He went to her. “What are you doing?”
“Packing Joe’s things.” She sniffed. “But I can’t get these stupid boxes—” her voice cut out.
“Hey.” He took a roll of packing tape from her hand and set it on a shelf. There was an overstuffed chair nearby. “Come here, amorcito.” Enrique pried her hand off the boxes and led her to the chair, pulling her onto his lap. A torrent of tears burst forth, causing her body to quake. He held her until they subsided. “Were you in the study?”
She nodded.
He blew out a breath.
“What’s wrong with me? Other people don’t have to move when someone dies. They just ... go on.”
“It doesn’t matter what other people do.”
“Why did Joe have to die?” Her tears started again. “And why did I insist on waiting to get married?”
Her fist landed softly on his chest, rending his heart. “Were you asking these questions before you moved in here?”
A pause. “Not anymore.”
Seeing her like this terrified him. He realized it had been a mistake to bring up Mia and her family when she’d talked about getting married right away. Between waiting and her coming here, she was on a perilous ledge. “Come back to bed.” Enrique took her by the hand and led her upstairs.
In bed, Skylar snuggled close to him.
“Sky, let’s get married today. We’ll do it after school or Mia can skip a day. Just the three of us.”
“But—”
“We’ll invite everyone to the adoption proceeding and we can have a big party afterward to celebrate our new family.”
She was quiet a moment. “Don’t we need an appointment with a judge?”
“If they don’t have an opening, we’ll do it ourselves. You can do that in Colorado. We already have our marriage license, so we just need to go to the clerk and recorder’s office to make it official.”
“Really?” A flicker of hope returned to her voice. She clung to him. “Are you sure?” He heard the doubt in her tone.
He turned, cupped her face with his hands. “I want nothing more than to be your husband. I’m sorry I asked you to wait. It wasn’t what you needed.”
Skylar sighed contentedly. “So in less than twenty-four hours, I’ll be the wife of the hottest Latino on the face of the earth?”
Enrique laughed. “You’ll be stuck with me. For life.”
“There’s no one I’d rather be stuck with.”
“Sky, I’m going to take some time off work.” He rolled so he was on top of her, supporting most of his weight with his elbows. “After we say our vows, we’ll find a place to live. Something different so we can make our own memories.”
“Okay.”
Careful to avoid her various cuts, he feathered kisses on each cheek, then on her lips. Her hands moved softly over the small of his back. “Then we’re going to get away—wherever you want. I’m sure my mom or Elana will take care of Mia. And on the weekend she can hang out with Carmen.”
“Do you think Mia will be okay?”
“She’s been worried about you. I think if she knows you’ve got your feet back under you, she’ll be fine.”
“What about the shop?” Her fingertips slid beneath his waistband, making it difficult for him to think.
“Andy and Manny will step up. So will Jasmine.” Skylar parted her legs. Enrique nestled closer and gave a slow smile.
“I love you.” Skylar smiled, too. In the lamplight, he saw that it reached her eyes. “And I need you. Right now.” Her hands worked his briefs down several inches.
He thought about all she’d been through that night. “Aren’t you tired?”
“Not yet.”
“Then I better get busy.”
I am grateful to those who helped with this story. Sergeant Ron “Doc” Johnson, NRP, FP-C, and Nathan Rudolph, who served as a medic with the first infantry division in Bosnia and Kosovo during his tenure in the army. Thank you both for your service and for your willingness to share your experiences on the front lines.
Others who helped are Troy Marx, Owner of The Bloody Knuckles Garage (www.thebkg.com) in Castle Rock, Colorado, Edward Leger, who answers every question I throw at him and always knows a guy (or gal) I can tap for more information, Denver Police Sergeant Daniel Steele, who supervises the FBI Rocky Mountain Innocence Lost Task Force, (https://www.fbi.gov/about-us/investigate/vc_majorthefts/cac/innocencelost) Jodi Byrnes, Forensic Interview Program Director with the Denver Children’s Advocacy Center, Alyssa MacMahon, Matthew D. Garrett, Cardboard Placement Operative, Sahira Chaves and Edgar Contreras, formerly of Mexico, who painstakingly bridged my wide Spanish language gap, Daril Cinquanta, Barb Dyess, and Becky Clark.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Changing Sky, Book One in the Colorado Chronicles series. If you enjoyed this story, please tell others you know and post a review on any review or purchase sites you frequent. Reviews are pure gold to authors!
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Happy Reading,
TR Fischer