Micah couldn’t remember the last time he’d watched a movie. He really couldn’t remember the last time he’d pulled out all the stops for a girl. And he really, really couldn’t believe how relaxed he felt, perhaps for the first time in a long time. Micah and Casey had driven over forty miles out to the drive-in, Micah praying the whole way that the truck wouldn’t fall apart. But Old Faithful made it intact. They’d brought blankets and pillows to pile in the truck bed and the linked radio station blared through the open windows to where Casey and Micah lounged in the truck bed.
It was a double-hitter 90s night, featuring The Lion King and Forrest Gump. Forrest was officially up. Casey had relaxed about halfway through The Lion King, and with every moment that passed he watched her unwind a bit more.
The Texas fall night cooled Micah’s skin, the chill almost too much. Around him cars sat angled up at the screen, enjoying the cooler fall temperatures, sometimes unpredictable this time of year.
Micah tugged the blanket around his legs and burrowed into his coat, getting cozy. He leaned back into the stacked pillows, the familiar movie growing faint as he caught sight of the starry sky. Black and beautiful, pinpricks of light smeared the horizon, uninhibited by city lights this far out of Dallas. Even the stars had brothers. They shined individually, but they did their best work on display together. He remembered nights in the desert with his team, playing cards, laughing, the stars on full display overhead without any light pollution.
A story stirred in Micah’s heart of God telling Abraham his descendants would be as numerous as the stars in the sky. He remembered the verse his grandad, Pap, used to tell him about how the Lord numbered the stars and knew them by name. By name. Though part of a beautiful array, each was known by the Creator. Seen. Maybe he was seen, even without his team.
Casey stirred next to him, shifted ever so much closer. Her hand lay limp between them. Sweat dotted his brow. Should he reach out and slip his fingers through hers? Or would she panic? Maybe he could inch just a little closer and see how she did with that first.
Right. He’d try that.
Shifting slightly on the cushions, he moved so his leg brushed hers ever so slightly. He held his breath. Counted to ten.
Nothing.
He exhaled. Now what?
Her hand still lay on the blanket between them, almost as if in open invitation. It wouldn’t be hard. Just reach out and slide his palm over hers. Join their lives in the smallest way, the way he’d been wanting to explore all week as he’d seen her on and off at Ellie’s place caring for her kids. One move. Just one move. He flexed his fingers and began to slide them across the blanket just as Casey shifted and put her hand in her lap.
Denied.
Micah fought the urge to punch something. Get it together, Richards. You aren’t in eighth grade. She’s a grown woman. If you want to hold her hand, you go for it and let her turn you down.
Micah wasn’t so keen on the “turning down” part. Casey had walls a mile high and twice as thick. And she only opened the door for a few people. Right now, she’d cracked a window for him, let him in just a little by agreeing to tonight. He wasn’t sure he wanted it slammed in his face.
His eyes drifted from the screen and slid to study Casey. He caught his breath. The stars had nothing on her. Walls down, joy splashed across her face, totally relaxed—this version of Casey could rival the most beautiful Texas sky. And she would win every time. He wondered what hid behind the walls she’d built. Her loyalty and protection she yielded as sentinels, fighting for her kids and then withdrawing. But this Casey, the Casey few ever saw. Well, she was some kind of beautiful. Micah reached for her hand.
Right as Forrest professed his undying love for Jenny.
Could he have worse timing? Her fingers flexed in his and retreated ever so slightly before relaxing in his grip. She turned, her brown eyes raised in challenge, humor dancing over her features. “How long have you been working up the nerve to reach for my hand?”
Micah rolled his eyes. Trust her to be direct. No game-playing with Casey Stewart. No subtlety either. He could appreciate that. “Since about halfway through the last movie, woman. Do not make this awkward.”
She tried to snatch her hand back, but he gripped tighter. “Really?”
She invaded his space, her lips a breath away. “Call me woman one more time, and you will never be able to bear children, Micah Richards, let alone hold my hand again.” She leaned back against the truck and shook their clasped hands. “I could practically hear your heart racing.”
“And you didn’t help me out?”
The car next to them issued a resounding, “shush,” through the open car window. Micah immediately slammed his mouth shut.
Casey’s chuckle drifted in the Texas night. “And miss seeing you wrestle? If you couldn’t muster the courage to hold my hand, Soldier Boy, there’s no way you would have a prayer of sticking around my life.”
“Finally! You admit you can’t live without me. It’s only taken a couple weeks.”
The smile slipped from her face, and her hand twitched in his. The movie droned in the background, but Micah no longer cared.
“Case?” Something had just shifted as surely as the faint breeze that now dried his sticky skin.
“I don’t remember . . .” she stopped. Her jaw flexed and she swallowed hard. Micah edged closer, rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand. “I don’t remember the last time I let someone in. This . . .” She indicated their joined hands. “I swore this would never happen again.” A choke silenced her last words but she shook it off. Her eyes still fixed on their hands resting on her leg.
Micah nudged her chin up, his finger tracing over the pink on her cheek. “Talk to me?”
The last thing he wanted was for Fort Knox to shut again, but he wanted to know— needed to know—how to ease her ache, how to take one step closer. Her eyes met his. He could almost hear the crack of a wall tumble within her. She bit her lip.
“It was my sweet sixteen, and Mom decided to throw a big party. Only, being the kind of mother she is, she confiscated everyone’s keys, handed out the booze because she thought she was just that cool, and then ran off somewhere with daddy dearest of the month.” Bitterness laced her tone. Micah tugged her closer, ready to defend her against any demons that surfaced. And she’d only begun.
“He was the hottest guy in school, captain of the football team, senior, most popular kid. You get the picture. You know the stereotypical jock in all the teen movies? Unfortunately, he fit the bill and more. And he had eyes only for me.” The words flowed, unchecked, like she’d bottled them up her entire life, waiting for the moment when they would finally break free. Her hands shook. Micah laced their fingers tighter, squeezing, willing her to remember he was on her side.
“He kept handing me drinks. All night long. I remember the team egging him on. My friends laughing and telling me I was so lucky to have Tanner Cartwright’s attention fully fixed on me.”
Micah bit back a roar of fury. The demon had a name and the man, the kid, had hurt this incredible woman before him.
“Before the night ended, we were in my room.” She shook her head, her voice raspy. “I sat curled up on my bed for hours afterward. It had been a stupid decision, one I made willingly and then regretted when it was too late. He didn’t care that I was upset. He didn’t want to hang around. I spent the rest of the night sick from all the alcohol.”
Micah fought the anger slicing through him. “Where was your mom?”
Her laugh cut. “She checked in. Laughed. Told me to shake it off and learn to handle my men and my alcohol.”
This time Micah didn’t trust himself to speak. He eased his arm around her now shaking shoulders. “Casey . . .”
“There’s more.”
Micah stilled, bracing for what came next.
“Five weeks later, I was still throwing up. Teagan finally made me go to the doctor. My mom just told me I was weak. And that’s when I found out.”
Laughter echoed through car doors, but inwardly Micah burned. He squeezed Casey tighter, willing her to know she wasn’t alone.
“I told Tanner. About, you know. He laughed in my face, then called me a slut and told me that’s what I get for being just like her.”
A drop of something wet bled through Micah’s shirt. He wrapped Casey tighter and stroked her hair. Her tears fell silent, but her pain screamed.
“When I told my mom, she called me a tramp. Told me it was my fault and that I would need to figure out how to handle it on my own. Then a rumor started at school. Someone wrote ‘slut’ on my locker. Guys high-fived Tanner in the hall and asked when I would give them a turn. My friends flocked around Tanner. But not Teagan and Shawn.”
Micah recognized the love in her voice for the friends who had stayed. He knew the feeling. He had it in his family, in Nick. He’d had it in the SEALs. That kind of love, that kind of commitment, it didn’t happen often. Micah may have distanced himself from all those who once loved him, but he wasn’t about to let Casey think her story would push him away. He wanted her to speak of him that way. He wanted to stay.
“I didn’t go to school for a week. Between morning sickness and inability to eat because I felt so miserable, I . . .” Silence descended as heavy as the air around them. Micah tucked her head under his chin.
The movie continued, crickets chirped, but Micah could only focus on the sound of her heart breaking. “I lost the baby a couple days afterward. Mom blamed me for that, too. People thought I had an abortion. The looks I got from some.” She shuddered. “Well, any remaining friends ran for the hills. After that, I got in with a bad crowd. I did everything to numb the pain, the looks, the names. Everything but let a guy touch me again. You, this . . .” She pulled away but didn’t retreat from his arms. “I haven’t had someone like me, touch me like this . . . ever. I’m not sure . . .”
He held his breath as the full weight of her gaze rested on him. Raw. Aching. Daring. He wouldn’t retreat this time. He tipped her chin up, brushing his thumb over her lips. “You didn’t deserve the names, the criticism, the lack of support and care, the blaming. I’m sorry.”
Steel hardened her features. “And no kids under my care will ever experience that with me if I can help it. I want them to know support and care and better options than I knew or understood.”
Micah smiled. She was a fighter. He cupped her face in his hands, the strength and fragility in equal measure astounding him. “It didn’t break you, Casey Stewart. It only made you stronger and more beautiful in the broken places. It fashioned a warrior.”
With only a breath between them, he paused. “May I?” he whispered, his focus drifting to her lips. With her hesitant nod, he closed the space, his lips melding with hers under the Texas sky. He kissed her cheek then her lashes, still wet from her tears before finding her lips again. And this time, this time she kissed him back.
He knew he’d met his match. A woman with a warrior’s heart, willing to fight for others in a way she’d never been fought for. She was the place he could land after months of running. And maybe, maybe God had allowed him to run so Micah could find Casey. Maybe that was God’s way of mending his own brokenness all along. Micah deepened the kiss, tugging Casey closer to him. God had taken his team, but maybe that team would look a little different in the days ahead. Just maybe.
Maybe his redemption looked like a small brunette with a fighter’s heart. In that moment, Micah felt a tiny broken piece mend inside him. Not in response to everyone he’d lost, but this time, this time for what he had found in the arms of a beauty under the Texas stars.
She climbed down from the rusty, red pick-up truck and waited for Micah to join her on the sidewalk. Her heart pounded as Micah’s warm hand came to rest on her lower back as he walked her up the sidewalk to the front porch of her duplex. His boots scraped along the concrete, reminding her of the southern gentleman California couldn’t beat out of him.
A low chuckle broke through the stillness and Casey swiveled to squint at Micah in the dim, Texas, suburban night. “Don’t tell me our kiss earlier freaked you out.”
“Who me?” She snorted and then silently groaned at the un-ladylike move. “Why would a kiss freak me out?”
They came to a stop on her front porch. It was as she feared. Only the sound of her racing, traitorous, longing heart greeted her. He took a step closer, his boots brushing against her shoes. “You tell me, tiger. Why would a kiss freak you out?”
“It didn’t freak me out.” She shrugged. “It was good. But it wasn’t all that.”
A slow smile spread across his handsome face, and she knew she’d just issued a challenge. And not just to any man. To a Navy SEAL, a warrior, and a man in full pursuit. That’s what terrified her most. Her walls crumbling. He’d already tumbled one tonight, and the look in his eyes said he knew it.
His arm slipped around her waist and tugged her flush against his chest. She braced her hands on his arms. Safety like she hadn’t known in a long time wrapped around her in the form of Micah Richards. And that scared her, too. She couldn’t get hurt again.
“I’m calling your bluff. That was a heck of a kiss.” His nose grazed her cheek. “You know it.” His breath fanned against her ear. “I know it.” His lips drifted over her cheek. Casey leaned in to Micah, wilting against the losing battle raging inside. “And honey, the whole neighborhood is about to know this one is ten times better.”
And then his lips were on hers again, and Casey swore the kiss was strong enough to send the stars scampering across the Texas sky. She clutched his shirt and didn’t fight him. For a moment, just this moment, she gave in. His lips moved over hers, strong, challenging, yet tender. A guy who knew what he wanted and knew how to treat her with care. Casey sank into his arms.
Too soon, his lips left hers. She forced her eyes open to a knowing smirk. “You can lie to yourself, gorgeous,” his fingers drifted down her cheek, “but you can’t lie to me.”
Desperate to keep some version of her walls erect, she ignored his gaze, shoved her key in the lock, and turned. She threw the lights on in the entryway and froze. “Emery Renee Martinez, get off that couch right now!”
She felt Micah at her side before she rushed into the room. Emery and TJ lay sprawled on the couch in full lip-lock. TJ bolted off the couch and fell backward. His shirt lay on the floor, his teenage chest bare to the room. And her baby sister. Her fourteen-year-old baby sister that she was in charge of protecting cowered on the couch, her hair a mess and her shirt in a pile with TJ’s on the floor.
Fury swept through Casey. Not again. Not tonight. TJ tried to rise to his feet. “You better stay on that floor unless you want to wind up back on it.” Casey pointed to him and tossed him his shirt. She bent down and grabbed a blanket from where it slumped on the floor and tossed it at Emery. “Find your shirt and get dressed now.”
“Casey.” Micah’s hand on her waist made her jerk backward.
“Don’t touch me, Micah.” She took a step away from him and eyed TJ on the floor, the whites of his eyes luminous in the shadows. They were kids. Kids. But all she could see was Tanner, and rage swept through her again. She took a step toward TJ. “How dare you . . .”
A hand gripped her and whirled her around. “Case, you need to calm down and take care of your sister. I’ll take care of TJ.” Casey shoved away from Micah, red tinting her gaze. But he refused to back down. With a gentle hand, he pushed her toward her sister again, now crying and trying to pull her shirt over her head in the corner, her back to the room. “Now, Casey. I’ll take care of TJ.” His voice was gentle, yet firm.
With a final look at the kid on the floor, Casey stalked to her sister.
“Up and outside, right now,” Micah barked at TJ. She stared at her sister’s back, the girl’s arms wrapped around herself. Scrambling met her ears before the sound of boots, the door shutting, and then tears. Her sister’s. Casey’s from so long ago.
And just like that, her anger wilted. Replaced by grief. For the girl she’d been. The woman she’d wanted to be only moments before. That she and her sister had a mom who didn’t care for them. And for the innocence that could so easily be lost by naïveté and one poor decision.
Casey approached her sister, but Emery whirled at her touch. “How could you?” Tear tracks stained her young face, just starting to lengthen and leave behind traces of childhood. “How could you embarrass me like that?”
“Excuse me?” Casey crossed her arms, compassion fleeing in light of the accusation. “You live under my roof. And you know the rules. No boys over when I’m not here, especially not TJ. And definitely no making out in your bra.”
“You’re such a hypocrite.” Emery stalked the couch and plopped down. “You brought Micah home. And I thought you liked TJ!” she shrieked.
Casey towered over her sister. “For starters, missy, Micah was not going to stay. He was dropping me off. Have you ever seen me bring a boy over to spend the night any time you have ever come to visit me?”
Emery shrugged. “There’s a first time for everything,” she mumbled.
Yes, there was. But Casey wanted Emery to be ready for her first time with a boy. And not like this. Never like this. “Em, look at me.”
In pure teenage form, she raised her eyes and fixed them on a point over Casey’s shoulder. Casey sighed. Close enough. “I love TJ. But there is a reason I’m trying to help him so much. He’s not ready for you. And honestly, missy, you aren’t ready for what was about to happen.”
“How would you know? Tanya in my class was bragging about her first time just last week. She said it was so romantic and sweet. And that we were losers and missing out. So I just thought . . .” She slumped down, her fingers twisting in knots in her lap. “TJ said he liked me. I figured, ‘Why not?’”
Casey sank onto the couch with a groan. Emery’s fight drained from her. Sobs shook her small frame, and she dropped her head in her hands. Casey pulled her sister into a hug, tugging her close, rocking her. The longing to protect overwhelmed Casey. She tightened her hold. The last thing she wanted for her sister was the life she’d lived as a teenager, the walls she built that had yet to topple, and the defenses she kept so close. Because pain ripped a hole that could rarely be mended. Even when stitched, scars prevailed. She wanted more for Emery than she saw of her mom with men. Casey wanted nothing more than to shield her sister from mistakes. Her own heart broke at her powerlessness.
“Ah, Em. Boys are going to come and go.” She nudged her sisters face up and brushed away the tears. “You are gorgeous and strong and exquisite, and a guy who isn’t willing to stick around isn’t a guy worthy of you. Especially right now, Em. Not when you are just figuring out who you are.”
She remembered a lesson from her small group leader, Mrs. Todd. She’d told the girls in Casey’s group that God designed intimacy for marriage. She’d told them God wanted the best for them, which is why they should wait. Casey had messed that up two years later. Then everyone had abandoned her. Then it felt like God had abandoned her. But . . . maybe. Once upon a time, she’d wanted a marriage like Mrs. Todd’s. Once upon a time, she’d seen that what Mrs. Todd said about a guy who loved you enough to wait for marriage was best. She’d definitely seen that doing it the opposite way led to disaster.
Feeling rusty, she dredged up the memory of Mrs. Todd’s old words. If only she had listened. Maybe Emery would. “Wait for the guy who fights for you so much that he waits for marriage. The guy who won’t ask you to take your clothes off. He won’t push you. He’ll fight for you and love you and won’t mistreat you. Wait for that guy, and hold your head up until then. You choose yourself when no one else does. And you fight for your heart and your body.”
From what she was learning, Micah sure did fit a lot on that list. Just maybe he was a guy worth opening up to. But Casey wasn’t sure she was ready to tear down her walls. She didn’t know if she would ever be, especially not for a wounded warrior still trying to find himself. What were the chances of him staying? How would she know she could trust him? With anything. With everything she guarded behind the walls.
“How will I know when the right guy comes along?”
Casey squeezed her little sister. “Well, you’ll be thirty, and I won’t want to kill him.”
Emery giggled and shoved Casey away. “I don’t want to be an old maid like you.”
“I’m not an old maid.” Casey attacked her sister’s rib cage, fingers poking all the right buttons to make her sister a pile of giggles.
“Am I interrupting?”
His rich voice stilled her assault. Emery shoved up on the couch. “Please interrupt. I need to go to my room anyway.”
Casey shuttered her feelings and faced her sister. “Phone?”
Emery paused mid-rise. “What?”
“Phone, please.” Casey held out her hand.
“Just because he’s in here, you want to go all parental on me?”
“Em, please don’t make this harder on your sister,” Micah pleaded from where he lounged in the entryway.
“Mind your own business,” Emery sassed.
Casey gritted her teeth and braced for the tantrum. In a level voice, she repeated, “Emery, phone now, or the sentence will be longer.”
Emery fumed and slapped her phone in Casey’s hand. “I listened to you. Why are you still punishing me?”
Casey stood and faced her little sister, now almost taller than her. Stepdad number six had been tall, too. “Because you disobeyed the rules of the house, and as much as you listened, I don’t trust you to not text TJ. So, until further notice, the phone is mine.”
Emery squealed and stalked off. “I wish I still lived with mom!” she screamed, right before her door slammed, shaking the walls.
Casey dropped her head in her hands, too emotionally exhausted to run after Emery. “What happened with TJ?”
Micah unfolded from where he leaned against the wall and made his way to her, his boots booming on the wood floor. Casey shifted to the far end of the couch. She saw his desire to sit close to her, to comfort, but it was all too much. She couldn’t reclaim what they’d had earlier. Not after what she’d shared. Not after what she’d just seen. Not with the memories racing too close to the surface.
“I stopped short of giving him a beat down and told him how a man treats a woman. It doesn’t start by asking her for that.” He motioned to the couch. Casey shifted. “I also threatened him if he did it again. So I wouldn’t worry about it anymore.” His voice lowered an octave, soothing her fraying nerves.
“Easy for you to say.” Loud music blared from Emery’s room. She would need to take her laptop, too.
“You don’t have to be alone in this, Case. I want to help.” He scooted closer and slipped his fingers through hers. She stared at their hands for a heartbeat before slipping off the couch. “Thanks for your help, but it’s been a long night, and I think you should go.”
Micah stood. “C’mon, Ace. Don’t shut me out again.”
“I’ve had enough for tonight, Micah, please.” Memories of Tanner and curling up on her bed in the aftermath flashed. She took another step back.
“Casey.” Micah now stood in front of her, his voice a mere whisper as his hands pulled her close. “TJ is not Tanner.”
Every brick that had toppled immediately flew back into place, and she slammed the door on anything she’d felt earlier. She shoved away from Micah and rushed to the door, throwing it open. The night yawned like a gaping black hole beyond her, broken only by the pinprick of porch lights. “Out, Micah.”
“Casey.”
She held up her hand, steeling her voice. “I didn’t tell you all that so you could use it against me.” Against her bidding, tears pricked her eyes.
“Hun, I swear to God . . .”
“God?” This time she gave him the full force of her confusion, pain deeper than anything she’d felt earlier slashing through old wounds. Al’s advice rang in her head but she pushed it away. She didn’t know how to trust God again, to love and be loved. Her walls were safer. “Where was He when Tanner kept pushing? Where was He when my mom mocked me and abandoned me? Where was He when I had to stand up to my stepdads?” Her voice cracked. “And where was He when I lost my baby?” She spat. “He doesn’t care about me. I don’t think He ever did. He never fought for me.”
Micah looked as if someone had slapped him. His face flushed in the dim lamplight. He nodded and walked out the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Casey.”
She shut the door, flipped the locks, and wilted against the wood. Less than an hour before, she’d felt free to get lost in Micah’s arms. But just like usual, no one was safe. Casey wrapped her arms around her waist and sank to the floor. Not even the God she’d believed in as a kid. The one who promised to protect His creation, who made a beautiful marriage for Mrs. Todd, for Al and Ellie. Just not her.