Seconds to Live (Scarlet Falls #3)(100)

“So I’ll see you tomorrow, Stella.”

“Bye.” She returned to Mac.

They went back to his cabin, took a long hot shower, and fell into bed. The storm had broken the heat. Mac closed and locked all the windows and turned on a fan. He tugged her into his arms. “For a guy who once royally messed up his life, I’m feeling pretty lucky.”

Stella stroked his bare shoulder. “You should.”

He kissed her deeply.

“I’m the one who feels lucky.” Stella rolled him onto his back and spent the next hour showing him just how much she loved him.





Chapter Forty-One


Monday


The sun shone with staggering brightness over the cemetery.

Grant, Mac, and four members of the local honor guard carried the flag-draped casket to the grave. Dozens of army officers and servicemen lined up behind the grave. Some had served under Grant. A small, older contingent had served under or with the Colonel. Craig and the crew from the shooting range stood in the back, their mixed bag of dress uniforms starched, their medals shiny. The sea of uniforms extended beyond the graveside rows of folding chairs.

They set the coffin on the platform over the grave. The soldiers saluted. Mac stepped back.

In a tiny navy-blue suit, Carson sat next to Hannah, a crumpled rose clutched in his fist. Ellie and her daughter filled out the rest of the row. Brody hadn’t been released from the hospital. A few rows back, Stella sat with some of the SFPD that had come to pay their respects. Mac took the seat on Hannah’s other side with the rest of the civilians, while service members stood and saluted.

As the firing party lined up for the twenty-one gun salute, Carson scrambled over Hannah to sit in Mac’s lap. When the shots retorted over the quiet span of green, they both jumped three times. “Taps” sounded over the silence, the bugle poignant and stirring.

Mac’s eyes blurred as the soldiers folded the flag with precision. Each movement rehearsed and perfect and exactly what the Colonel would have expected.

What he’d deserved.

He’d given himself to his country, body and soul.

The leader presented the tri-folded flag to Hannah. Mac didn’t hear the chaplain’s speech or Grant’s short eulogy. Memories of his childhood flooded him, and he felt strangely calm.

The service ended and he stood. Carson tugged him over to the row of headstones. To the two that read LEE BARRETT and KATE BARRETT. Carson rested the flower on Kate’s grave, then turned and leaned against Mac’s legs.

Mac’s chest went tight and dry until he couldn’t swallow. Lee was missing so much. Carson losing his baby teeth. Faith learning to walk. He’d never see a first date or wedding or grandchild. Mac and Grant would fill in, but it wouldn’t be the same. On the other side of the Colonel’s open grave was Mac’s mom. At least they were all together.

Carson tugged on Mac’s pants. “Can we go now?”

“Whenever you’re ready.” Mac was more than ready to leave, but he hadn’t wanted to rush Carson.

The boy reached his arms toward Mac. He leaned over and picked him up. Carson’s arms tightened and Mac held him close. He’d do anything for the kids. Anything, even stand over Lee’s grave and relive all the pain of losing him as many times as Carson needed to visit.

Mac carried him back to the car. Hannah and Grant were waiting at the edge of the grass. Carson jumped from Mac’s arms and ran to Grant. Ellie joined them as they went to their car.

Hannah and Stella flanked Mac, each taking an arm.

“We made it.” Hannah wiped her eyes. “You all right?”

“I am.” Mac had finally made peace with his life. “Our lives were rough, but he prepared us. Got to give him that.”

Grant, Hannah, Mac, none of them would be alive without the skills their father had taught them.

Hannah snorted. “He did. If there’s ever a zombie apocalypse, we are so ready.”



One Week Later

Stella parked in front of Grant and Ellie’s farmhouse for a Fourth of July barbeque. The past week had her head spinning—in a good way. Sure, she’d had to type a thousand reports, but she’d been able to spend most of her free time with Mac.

In the passenger seat, he gestured toward the house with his splinted hand. “It might be nice to have a place like this someday.”

“Are you ready to emerge from the wild?”

He laughed. “Maybe you tamed me.”

“I seriously doubt you’ll ever be fully domesticated.” Stella reached for the door handle. “At least I hope not.” Remembering the night before, she glanced back at him, heat and humor filling her with happiness.

Flashing her a wicked grin, Mac opened his car door.

“But it is peaceful here.” Stepping out of the car, she breathed in the smell of freshly cut summer grass. The lawn surrounding the house was lush with green from the June rains. They’d just left her house, where Gianna was recuperating under the watchful eyes of Grandpa and Morgan.

“Uncle Mac! Uncle Mac!” Mac’s nephew raced around the side of the house and tore across the grass toward them. His large golden retriever loped at his side. The boy almost slammed into Mac’s legs. The dog slid to a stop and launched its body at Stella with a happy bark.

“Whoa, AnnaBelle.” Holding his splinted hand in the air, Mac caught the dog’s collar before she took Stella out at the knees. “Sit.”