The Military Wife (A Heart of a Hero, #1)(68)

Although tossing a ball with Ben was a small thing, it offered atonement nonetheless. Bennett had convinced himself the money he’d given Harper and Ben fulfilled his promise to Noah, but the money had been the coward’s way out.

Jack followed them and found leaves and birds and squirrels to chase while Ben ran inside and returned with a worn adult-sized football. His first throw to Bennett wobbled and fell six feet short.

Bennett scooped it up on his walk to Ben. “This ball’s too big for your hand.”

“It was my dad’s.”

A rush went through his head and made him feel light-headed and weak. Maybe he had contracted the plague. He took a deep breath and turned the ball in his hands. Noah’s grip was visible in the wear of the leather and the fading across the laces where his fingers would have lain. Along the seam, his name was etched in permanent ink. Noah Wilcox. More permanent than his body.

Bennett tried to clear the emotion out of his throat, but when he spoke, his voice was rough with it. “To get the perfect spiral, you have to grip the laces, here toward the end.” He wrapped Ben’s small fingers in the shadowy memory of his father’s hand.

Bennett took six paces back. “Move your arm forward and back at the elbow and think about the end you aren’t holding spinning through the air. Go on, try.”

The ball sailed in a near-perfect spiral. “I did it.” Ben’s voice was full of wonder.

Bennett launched a soft throw back at him. “Do it again. Remember where to put your hand?”

Ben’s face was a study in concentration as he fixed his grip over the laces. Another decent throw followed. Bennet took a step back with each throw until a good fifteen feet separated them.

“My arm’s tired.” Ben grinned. “I’m getting pretty good, huh?”

“You sure are. Just like your daddy.”

Ben tucked the ball under his arm and walked toward the stairs leading up to the back-porch sliding door. He stopped with his foot on the bottom step. “Aren’t you coming? I saved some Oreos and milk for you.”

A shadow drew his eye to the sliding door. It was Harper behind the glass watching them. She didn’t step out to invite him in and his pride grated.

“Not this time. I have to go.”

“Why?” Ben’s face fell, his disappointment writ large on his face and in his body language. Noah had been easy to read like that. Harper was more guarded and Bennett wondered if it was a learned defense or natural.

“Because…” Jesus, what could he say? Certainly not the truth. “I have to work.”

Ben walked over and Bennett dropped to a squat to put them at eye level. “Will you come back and play sometime?” Ben asked.

Bennett’s mouth was inexplicably dry. “I can’t promise anything.”

Ben’s nod was so serious and adult-like, Bennett wanted to promise him anything to return his childlike joy. But he couldn’t. Resiliency was the hallmark of a five-year-old, right? He would be happy again by bedtime.

Ben leaned in and gave Bennett a hug with one arm, the ball tucked under the other. Bennett’s arms came up automatically and wrapped around the boy’s slight body, ball and all.

He didn’t want to drive away and never see Ben again. Noah had named his son after Bennett, and whether it was official or not, Bennett was his godfather. Now, when he was ready to accept the role, Harper didn’t want him around.

Bennett patted his slight, bony shoulder and pulled away. Ben ruffled Jack’s ruff and ran to the steps, a bounce already back. He would be fine without Bennett. And so would Harper. In fact, she’d be better off without him. He’d given her something easy—money. What she demanded was impossible. Their history intersected painfully through Noah and there was no getting over those fault lines.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked away. At the gate, he stopped. Jack wasn’t at his heels or leading the way. The dog sat at the base of the stairs and stared where Ben had disappeared.

Bennett whistled. Jack sat up taller and let out a howl, then turned and trotted toward Bennett. He rubbed the dog’s head and ears and whispered, “I know, buddy. I’ll miss them, too.”





Chapter 17


Present Day

Spring was coming to the Outer Banks. Brave buttercups broke ground first, and like the flowers, Harper soaked up the warm sun on the back porch. Her concentration was shattered by real troubles, and she gave up pretending to read, closing her eyes. The sun danced behind her eyelids in a multicolored show.

Bennett hadn’t contacted her since their return from Fort Bragg. Things had been good between them. Why had she ruined it by bringing up Noah’s death and the mysterious promise? Why couldn’t she leave it alone? It had no bearing on the future. Except somehow it did.

If the burden was hers alone to bear, then perhaps happiness could coexist with the questions. But Bennett carried the burden as well. They would never work unless they could lay down their burdens together.

Even without Bennett’s support, her plans for the café moved forward at a rapid clip. Joyce had accompanied her to a restaurant equipment auction and Harper tried not to dwell on the fact that the auction represented someone else’s failed dreams.

The sliding glass door from the kitchen swished open and the deck planks creaked. Harper squinted. Haloed by bright sunlight, her mother took a chair and tilted her face toward the sky like one of the buttercups.