Back in the Soldier's Bed

Jonas had no idea what it meant to be a father. He certainly wasn’t prepared for what Emma would throw at him. Despite Shannyn’s best efforts, Emma was expecting a ready-made, perfect dad. One that perhaps smiled once in a while. And what did Shannyn expect out of this? If it didn’t work out, she’d have to deal with Emma’s disappointment. And if it did, she’d have to deal with Jonas on a permanent basis. Neither option held a lot of appeal. Seeing him was a constant reminder of how much he’d hurt her. Of the dreams she’d had that had been crushed.

When Jonas came back, shoes in hand, Shannyn let out a huff.

“For God’s sake, Jonas, could you muster up a smile? You don’t need to frighten her half to death.”

He stilled, sucking in his lips and letting them roll out again to their natural shape. She couldn’t help but watch the movement, struck by a memory of how soft, yet firm they had been years ago when he’d kissed her. When she let her gaze roam upwards, his eyes had darkened from their usual green to a deeper hazel colour.

They only did that when he was upset, she remembered.

“I’m sorry,” he replied gruffly. “I’m…I’m just nervous.”

“You’re scared of a little girl.” Shannyn couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips. “You, the big bad soldier.”

But her teasing didn’t help banish the anxiety from his face. “This is different,” he said simply.

It made her feel a bit better. At least he wasn’t treating this cavalierly. “I’m just saying…” She tempered her sarcasm, keeping her tone even and gentle. “Emma is a very open, loving child. She’s not going to understand if you’re cold and distant.”

Jonas stared down at Shannyn. Sometimes she seemed almost the same as she’d been…like the other day when they’d eaten lunch together. Approachable, warm. At those times, he remembered all too well what it had been like with her before. When her smile had been just for him, making him feel ten feet tall and bulletproof.

But he knew better. At other times, like right now, he felt he didn’t know her at all. And while he wanted to meet Emma, he felt totally unequipped to handle the challenge being thrown his way—to be a happy, loving father. How was he supposed to do that when he’d all but forgotten what love felt like?

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.

Her face softened and the gentle way she laid her hand on his arm felt foreign. But good. Suddenly they were connected again, and as his eyes met hers, he was shocked to realize that he wasn’t imagining the link between them. The one that would have been there, Emma or no Emma. It almost felt…uncomplicated. But that was crazy. There were scads of complications between them. Those she knew about and those she didn’t. Hopefully never would.

“Just say hello. Smile. Tell her you’re pleased to meet her. She’ll help you with the rest.”

Jonas figured Shannyn knew Emma better than anyone, and he pulled away, already missing the feel of her hand on his skin. “Let’s go.” He slid his shoes on to his feet while Shannyn opened the patio doors.

The heat hit him first, the steamy humidity of a June afternoon. Inside the cool house he’d momenta

rily forgotten how hot it was outside until the wall of it hit him. He curled his lips under, thinking for a moment how it was a very different heat from that of the Middle East.

It was a lifetime ago; it was yesterday.

He shook himself from his thoughts to hear her calling Emma from the swing set.

The bundle that came running was the liveliest picture he’d seen in years. A perfect vision of life and innocence and the purity of it struck him square in the chest. She ran across the grass, a bouncing tail of curls and arms and legs that had not quite lost all their baby chubbiness, still perfect in their youth.

His heart stopped when she smiled and called out “Daddy!” as she ran directly for him.

He wasn’t prepared and she hit him full force in his bad leg.

Her tiny arms were wrapped around his hips as the muscle quivered and buckled completely, taking him to his knees on the grass. Tears stung the backs of his eyes as Emma let go and stepped backward, shocked. The big, strong man brought to utter humiliation by a tiny squirt of a thing. The pain was nothing, nothing compared to the shame he felt.

“Oh my God, Jonas, are you all right?”

Shannyn’s worried voice reached his ears and he inhaled deeply, nodding. Emma was staring at him with something like fear and guilt paling her tiny face. When he looked up at her, she choked a little and started to run to the other side of the yard, to the pint-sized playhouse by the far fence.

“Emma?” Shannyn started toward her daughter, but Jonas stopped her.

“No. Let me.”

He got to his feet, hopping a bit on his good leg so he could get steadied. Introduce himself and pleased to meet you, indeed. All the good intentions for a smooth transition were annihilated. He ignored the pain radiating from his thigh up through his groin and even to the pit of his stomach. Taking a deep breath, he made the first painful steps to making things right with his daughter.

When he got to the playhouse, he looked inside and saw her sitting on a small bench, her knees pulled up to her chest and her delicate lips turned down in a perfectly inverted ‘u.’ Tears glimmered like emerald drops in her eyes.

“Emma?”