I’d already assured Everett that I’d take Vincent’s secret to the grave with me, but I hadn’t mentioned I was doing it for him and not Vincent. Since Everett had veiled the warning with the caveat that Vincent and all the people around him would be in danger if anyone found out, I’d figured it was Everett’s way of playing on my oath to protect him. He hadn’t said as much, but I’d gotten the impression that Everett would be one of those people who would be in harm’s way if the truth got out. I’d stopped Everett before he’d even finished his tirade about how Vincent was really a good person who’d suffered because of the actions of others. I’d merely told Everett that Vincent’s secret was safe with me and had asked him to trust me.
That had been before the fight with Gage two days earlier.
If Everett had trusted me then, I doubted he did now.
I didn’t trust me.
But I would do what I’d promised and keep Vincent’s secret. I’d seen enough to know he was a good man and he deserved a second chance.
As the funeral goers placed roses on Vincent’s empty coffin as they left, I watched Everett as he stared at the casket. He was wearing sunglasses, but I didn’t need to see his eyes to know he was hurting. I could tell by his pursed lips and pale skin. Once everyone was gone, he placed one of the two roses he had in his hands on the casket, then walked to me. I already knew who the other rose was for, so when he asked me to take him to Arlington National Cemetery, I nodded and said, “Of course, Mr. President.”
The drive to Arlington only took twenty minutes because Everett had decided to have Vincent “buried” at a cemetery nearby. I followed Everett as he went to the familiar grave, but I didn’t need to look to know it was Pierce’s. Since I was sleeping in the room across from Everett, I’d heard him call out Pierce’s name enough in his sleep to know that Reese’s accusation had been spot-on. Everett had been in a relationship with Vincent’s brother.
Although relationship seemed like too meek of a word to describe it. The soldier had been dead for a decade, yet Everett was still dreaming about him night after night.
And they weren’t all pleasant dreams.
As recently as the night Everett and Gage had kissed, I’d heard Everett whimpering in his room. Like all the previous nights since we’d left Virginia, he’d been asleep, so I’d been able to watch him unhindered. He’d call for Pierce over and over, uttering the same words each time.
I’m sorry.
I didn’t know exactly what Everett was sorry for, but his strong reaction during such a deep state of sleep was proof that he’d really loved Pierce.
The first time I’d witnessed the dream had been the day I’d taken Everett to the hotel in Montana after Gage had convinced him to leave the hospital long enough to get some rest. Everett and I’d had connecting rooms, so I’d left the door propped open after I’d been sure he’d fallen asleep. Within a matter of minutes, I’d heard him talking to himself. When I’d gone in to check on him, I’d heard the choked sobs as he’d spoken to Pierce. I’d stood over his restless body as he’d apologized to his dead lover and when it had finally become too much, I’d overstepped the bounds of our relationship and done something I hoped Everett never discovered.
I’d knelt down by the side of Everett’s bed and I’d gently whispered into the older man’s ear words that I was sure I would go to hell for.
Because even though I’d spoken the words, they hadn’t been mine to say.
It’s okay, Everett. I’m here now. Sleep, my love.
My guilt had been somewhat lessened when Everett had instantly responded to my words, and I’d repeated them a few times since that day, mostly in the Fortier guest house. Every time I’d done it, Everett had let out a little sigh, rolled on his side and whispered Pierce’s name before he’d drifted off into a more restful state. If my behavior hadn’t been shameful enough, it’d become downright creepy when I’d started staying long afterward just to watch him sleep for a while.
I watched as Everett placed the rose in front of the headstone that bore Pierce’s name.
“I’ll be over there if you need anything, Mr… Everett,” I said as I motioned to the spot I usually waited at while Everett had his visit.
“Do you think they know, Nash?” Everett asked as I turned to go. Before I could ask him what he meant, he looked at me and said, “Do you think the dead know what we’re thinking?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. I’d never been a big believer in God or Heaven, but there was a part of me that was reluctant to discount them altogether. “Would it bother you if they did?”