The Military Wife (A Heart of a Hero, #1)(81)

She scooped Ben up and settled into the rocking chair by the window. While Ben nursed, she stared into the sky, the stars bright around the sliver of a moon. If it weren’t for the exhaustion she faced in the morning, she might enjoy the peace.

Instead of putting him into a milk-induced coma like usual, the feeding energized Ben. He kicked his legs and took hold of a hank of Harper’s hair, yanking with a strength that made her yelp more out of surprise than pain.

A gummy smile crinkled Ben’s face. Harper smiled back automatically, the motion stiff as if her smile muscles had atrophied. His smile faded. It was probably gas. She made a funny sound. He smiled again, even bigger.

A warmth bloomed in her chest as her heart skipped ahead, making itself felt for the first time in weeks. Maybe it was the exhaustion or her grief or simply the shadows, but Ben had inherited something from Noah. His grin. The one that made his eyes twinkle.

The next morning, instead of handing Ben off to her mom and retreating for more sleep, she sat with him and tried to get him to smile again by making funny faces and noises. Just when she convinced herself she’d imagined it all, his gummy smile lit her up like sparklers.

She cradled him in the crook of her arm and quick-walked to the kitchen. “Mom! He smiled.”

Her mom turned from washing dishes, drying her hands on a dish towel. “Honey. He’s too young. He probably has gas.”

“That’s what I thought, too, but look.…” She chuffed like a horse and brought her nose to his. He grinned and waved his fists as if he couldn’t contain his good humor.

“Oh my goodness.” Her mom covered her mouth and stood over Harper’s shoulder.

Harper repeated her chuff and got the same response. “Do you see it, too?” she whispered.

“He looks like Noah when he smiles, doesn’t he?” Her mom put an arm around Harper’s shoulders and leaned her head to put them temple to temple.

Tears rushed to Harper’s eyes. It wasn’t an unusual state for her these days, but she’d gotten good at sandbagging her emotions. Like a river jumping its banks, she had no control this time. Sobs racked her body. She cradled Ben close to her heart. Her mom’s arms wrapped around her from behind and rocked them, a protective force.

That’s what she had to be for Ben. He would grow up without a father. The least she could do was try to be the best mother possible.

After her body was drained of tears, she cradled Ben’s head and leaned down to kiss him. He took her outburst in stride and rooted for her breast. “Will you make me an appointment with Adele?” In a whisper, she added, “I think I need help.”

Her mom gave her one more squeeze around the shoulders and went straight for the phone.

The medicine and therapy weren’t a cure-all, but instead of feeling like she was on a roller coaster spiraling constantly downward, the upswings made her grief bearable. She laughed and smiled as much as she cried, and caring for Ben was done out of joy and not duty.

The week Noah’s parents visited was difficult. Moments of happiness were interspersed equally with a heart-swallowing sadness. But she gladly promised frequent access to their grandchild, knowing how important it would be to them and to Ben in the coming years.

The days passed as if time was fluid, flowing rapidly at some points, meandering slowly at others, and marked by the milestones Ben reached. His first bite of baby food—pureed sweet potatoes, which he loved. His first word—“Mama.” His first step. His first haircut. His first birthday. Each one bittersweet because Noah wasn’t there to bear witness.

She weaned herself off the antidepressant, afraid of backsliding into soul-crushing sadness, but she felt strong, her good days outnumbering her bad. Time didn’t heal her wounds but grew scar tissue over them, and she and Ben survived.





Chapter 20


Present Day

Jack London bounded down the beach after Libby and Ryan and Ben. The surf was too cold for Harper’s blood, but the sun was out and a warm breeze ruffled her hair. She and Bennett had slipped their shoes off and rolled up their pants.

“Thanks for coming down.” Harper slipped her hand into his for a squeeze. She half-expected him to shake her off. He didn’t seem the hand-holding type, but he only linked their fingers and tightened his grip.

“I hate that I was off in the woods and you had to deal with everything by yourself.” His voice was strong and rumbly and reassuring.

She’d forgotten what it was like to have someone to lean on who wouldn’t fall. It was nice. “You were working. I’m used to handling things on my own.”

“Yeah.” The way he drew the word out had her gaze sweeping to his face, but before she could question him he asked, “Any change in Sophie?”

“Not yet, but it’s only been three days.” Only three days. A lifetime. Every hour that ticked off without her regaining consciousness increased the grim reality of her never waking.

Libby fell to her knees next to Jack London and untied the ribbon in her hair. Ben and Ryan played tag, squealing when the cold water lapped at their legs. Jack didn’t run after the boys but stayed with Libby as if he sensed her need. She tied the pink ribbon in Jack’s fur, giving him a hornlike ponytail on top of his head.

“Jack is so good with Libby. Was he trained as a therapy dog?” Harper pulled Bennett to a stop so they wouldn’t interrupt girl and dog.