“Shit,” Luke said.
“Watch your language, Lucas.” Mrs. Benton walked into the room.
“How much did you overhear?” T.J. asked grimly, his hands on his hips.
“Enough to confirm what I already suspected,” she said, smiling up at Amy. “I saw the way Mark looked at you during dinner the other night. And I hoped you two wouldn’t let the past hold you back.”
“I... We—” Amy searched for the right words. “But it is.”
“Boys, why don’t you check on the other dogs? Nova and Bullet looked lonely when I walked past their rooms,” Mrs. Benton said.
“Yes, Mom,” the brothers said in unison, heading for the door.
“I’m so proud of what you’ve built. I must admit I got a bit caught up in the excitement of the opening. But then, I look for any excuse to demand my boys use their limited vacation time to come home,” her former mother-in-law said.
“I appreciate everything you did to make it happen,” Amy said quickly. “I want you to know that Mark and I, we didn’t plan what happened.”
“You can’t plan love,” she said. “If you could, all those couples on reality TV would end up spending the rest of their lives together. And I think we both know most sensible women would steer clear of a military marriage.”
Amy nodded.
“But love isn’t sensible. You fall for the man, not his job,” Mrs. Benton continued. “And you choose to make it work.”
Amy searched the older woman’s face, lined with years of worry and heartbreak. “How do you do it? Your sons, all of them, decided to put themselves in harm’s way. And after losing a husband...how do you make it through each day not knowing if they’re safe and alive?”
Mrs. Benton shrugged. “I trust they are good at their jobs. Sometimes it helps me to remember that people die in everyday life. I know it sounds morbid, but there is always a chance you could lose the people you love to a car crash or illness. And Heaven knows, there were plenty of times when my boys were young, I thought I would lose them to an accident.
“Did you know Luke and Jeremy once jumped out of a tree with towels tied on as capes? They wanted to see if they could be superheroes. Each boy broke a leg.”
“I heard the stories,” Amy said.
“At least now they have the training to go out into the world and be heroes.” Mrs. Benton shook her head at the memory. “My husband and my boys felt called to serve their country. I can’t change that, and if I could, I’m not sure I would want to. I love them for who they are.”
Amy bit her lip. For weeks, she’d wanted everyone to see past the labels, to understand that she was not Darren’s perfect widow. And yet, she’d turned around and done the same to Mark. He was an airman who saved lives. Yes, that might complicate their future together. It might be hard, but he deserved to be loved for who he was.
“Excuse me,” she said, moving toward the door. “I need to go win back my hero.”
21
MARK CLIMBED INTO the helicopter waiting at the NATO hospital. They’d delivered the patient—a child caught in the cross fire between US military forces and Afghan insurgents—in stable condition. And for the first time in weeks, Mark felt like smiling.
They flew the short distance to their base and headed for the barracks to clean up. Out there, on a mission, he felt alive and sure of himself. He was 100 percent focused on saving the patient. But back at the barracks, his mind wandered, returning to Heart’s Landing. He never planned to set foot in the town again, but that didn’t magically wipe out his memories.
And, shit, the emails from Amy weren’t helping. He’d received the first one, asking to video chat, the day after she booted him out of her life. The sting from her rejection was still there.
“Hey, Mark, what the hell?” Teddy, one of the younger guys on the team, called. “We save a ten-year-old boy’s life in front of his weeping mother and you’re frowning? You rocked that mission.”
“Tired, that’s all.” He turned away from the rest of his team, heading for his bed. He had twelve hours before his next shift. He should shower and get to bed. But he knew he’d end up checking his email first. Just because he didn’t respond didn’t mean he wanted to stop hearing from her. He liked reading about her day and seeing pictures of Rosie—though she’d stopped sending those in an attempt to get him to respond. If he agreed to a video chat, she’d bring the dog.
But he wasn’t ready. He needed to bury the hurt a little deeper before he saw her and talked to her again. It might be easy for her to follow the playbook she’d laid out and go back to where they’d been before, but he couldn’t do it. Not yet.
Shaking his head, he opened his computer and logged on. And there it was, his daily email from Amy. Only this one didn’t mention a video chat or offer a picture of the puppies. This time, she’d written a list.
Dear Mark,
For months, I sent you my memories. And when you came home, I shared my secrets with you. Now I’m mourning a different loss—what we might have had together if only I’d opened my heart and mind to the possibility earlier. I’m sorry. I allowed fear to guide my choices, instead of love.
I’m sorry and I’ve fallen in love with you. Those are words I wished to say to your face, or at least to your image on the computer screen, but you refused to ans