Worth the Fall (The McKinney Brothers, #1)(97)
She went through the motions of the day, replaying Angie’s words while taking care of Mary and trying to keep it together as she always did. She caught up on the endless laundry, changed sheets, and picked up toys.
After eating dinner alone, she laid the baby in her crib, hoping she’d sleep almost through the night. She cleaned up and secured the trash bag to take outside. It was cold but not freezing like it had been. She was just about to hurry back inside when a faded blue car pulled into the driveway.
Abby watched as a young woman exited the driver’s seat, her blond hair swaying as she went around to open the passenger door. Her head disappeared for a second before she reappeared, helping someone slowly out of the car. A man stumbled and grabbed on to the open door to steady himself.
Their voices were muffled by the distance, but Abby didn’t miss the tender kiss the woman laid on his cheek. The back door opened and two little boys, maybe six and five, climbed out.
The four of them approached as a unit, one aching step at a time. The twisted grimace on the man’s lips and his groan of pain spurred her to meet them halfway. The left side of his face was an angry red; a series of stitches ran from his cheek into a shaved patch of hair.
She forced herself to smile. “Hi. Can I help you?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Sergeant First Class Ray Evans. This is my wife, Sue. My boys, Johnny and Bo. We’re looking for Senior Chief McKinney. We was told he lived here.”
Before Abby could answer, the oldest boy, skinny and freckled, spoke.
“We come to tell him thank you for savin’ our daddy.”
The smaller boy handed her a piece of white paper, a child’s drawing. Four stick people—two small, one medium, and one as big as the sky with the word “Daddy” written over it in a child’s scrawl.
Abby’s knees went weak. A familiar pain gripped her heart. She couldn’t look away from the sight before her: a young woman with tears in her eyes, a man in obvious pain but straining to stand straight and proud, even in front of her. Something she didn’t deserve.
Something Matt did.
“I’m sorry,” she finally managed. “He’s not here. I could call him, maybe, if you want to wait?”
The man’s gaze fell to the sidewalk, but he quickly regrouped. “Oh no, ma’am. We got to be gettin’ back. Not even supposed to be out and about. Could you just tell him we come by? Wanted to thank him, personally and all.”
“Yes, of course I’ll tell him.”
A tear slid down the woman’s face, past the dark circles under her eyes. She didn’t speak, just reached out and squeezed Abby’s hand with a sharp, bony grip.
“Okay, then,” he said, and the woman let go. They turned, the wife bearing the weight of her husband with his arm around her slight shoulders. The man’s other hand rested on the shoulder of his son like a short crutch.
Abby swallowed against the lump blocking her throat. That could be Jack, eagerly offering himself to his hero. That woman could be her, grateful beyond words, still struggling to process the miracle that her husband had returned. Her prayers—for someone like Matt to bring her husband home—answered.
She watched as they opened doors and gingerly maneuvered the injured, but living, into the car. She watched them back out of the driveway, then her gaze fell to the drawing in her hand. The colors swirled and wavered as her eyes filled with tears. This is why. The reason was right in front of her. This is why he’d left.
And he loved her so much he regretted it.
Oh, Matt. Would she have been strong enough to risk everything to save a life? She didn’t know. She didn’t feel strong. Though she had survived Matt’s death. Dark, bleak hours she didn’t want to remember.
She traced the mommy figure on the paper. Was that how her own mother had felt? Body and mind so black with grief over the death of her husband she couldn’t see anything else? Not even her daughter? All Abby’s life she’d wanted to matter, to be loved for real. Matt’s regret for hurting her…that was real. And his love, that was also real. As real as her love for him.
With the child’s drawing in her hand, she cried cleansing tears of relief and forgiveness, full to bursting with the unwavering knowledge that she was wanted. That she was enough, that maybe she’d been enough for her mother too. That Matt’s leaving hadn’t been about her. She smiled through the tears. He hadn’t changed his mind. And he wouldn’t leave her again.
Chapter 40
Matt stood at the front of St. Paul’s Catholic Church, right in front of the altar where he’d been baptized and he’d received his first communion. The winter sun was low, sprinkling bits of colored light through stained-glass saints. He and his brothers stood like a row of black and white penguins, with Jack directly in front of him, leaning against his legs.
As an honorably discharged Navy SEAL, he didn’t wear dress whites—that was for the enlisted or retired. And it was fine. Better than fine. Because that’s what he was. Former Navy SEAL.
It took everything in him not to check his watch. He alternately flexed and fisted his fingers against his leg. Focusing on keeping the beads of sweat below the surface, he scanned the crowd: His grandparents. An aunt and uncle he hadn’t seen in years. His buddies lining the back of the church, serving as ushers.
Jack cocked his head to look up at him, the question obvious. How much longer?