A Soldier’s Family (4 page)

“I have a hard time believing you could lose a fight.” He rubbed fingers across his lip for emphasis. Then grinned as big as she’d ever seen him.

Ouch. She resented that remark.

Okay, out with it. She draped her jacket across her arm, then crossed the other arm over it. “Oh. Yeah. About that. I’m sorry I smacked you. It was inexcusable.”

His smile faded and his eyes softened even more. “To be fair, how I acted was more inexcusable. That’s what I wrote in the letter.”

“I know.”

His grin returned. “You really read it?”

She flashed him a grin of her own. “You really wrote it? You’re pretty eloquent with words—when you’re not drinking that is.” She stared at her squared-toe pump to keep the snicker down. What could a little sarcastic jab hurt?

“A month ago.”

She looked up. “What?”

“I wrote the letter a month ago. It’s in my PDA. I can prove it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Never mind. Doesn’t matter.” But it did. She could plainly see by the disappointment caving his chest and dropping his shoulders, massive shoulders she might add, that it did matter to Manny. Maybe he really had turned over a new leaf. Otherwise, why would he obsess about the letter and when he wrote it?

A soft groan came from him as he pushed himself up in the bed. His face looked strained and weary. Typical alpha guy—hurting and trying to act as if it wasn’t. Joseph did that when his kidney stones acted up, and Celia hadn’t been very sympathetic.

“Manny, I’m sorry you crashed, and I’m glad you didn’t get hurt worse, or maybe even killed and I’m glad you gave your life to God, if you really did.” The words tumbled out so fast, they felt forced though she’d meant them sincerely.

His brows rose slowly. “
If
I really did?”

Ugh. Had she said that out loud? Why couldn’t she be better at this sort of thing? Learn how to think before speaking? Her mouth ran way ahead of her brain, and that was a fact. How could she stop this automatic, inherent suspicion of him?

Judging by the look on Manny’s face, he picked up on it, too. Celia hated that she doubted him, but there it was again. Would she never be free of it?

He tipped his chin at her. “Who messed you up, Celia?”

Her back hit the spindles on the chair. She’d likely have a bruise on the skin over her spine. “What?”

He dipped his head in a curt nod. “You heard me.”

“That’s just weird.”

“Your expressive face hides nothing, Cel.”

Cel. No one had called her that since—

The lump returned to her throat. Joseph.

Fine. If Manny wanted the ugly truth, she’d let him have it. “I lived under the same roof with a man who acted one way on Sunday then a different way the rest of the week.”

“Your late husband?”

How’d he know about Joseph? She didn’t want him to assume he had a mean bone in his body.

“No. My father. I have a tough time trusting and gauging if most Christians are for real. I was forced to attend a church oblivious that it was possessed by an evil deacon.”

His brows rose. “Deacon possessed?”

“Yes. No. My father was—never mind.” She just wanted to leave. How’d they shuttle down this road anyway?

He folded bulky arms loosely over his chest and tilted his head to one side. “But you’re a Christian.”

“Yeah, and I know how hard I struggle. I know that I’d fall flat on my face if He didn’t help me every step. I know what I’m capable of when left to my own devices. I pose a danger to myself and others, as you well know.”

She meant the smack-down at the reception. Whether he picked up on that, she didn’t know because his expression gave nothing away.

Then his face drooped with sadness. “I know the feeling.” He searched her face, her eyes, as if deciding whether to say more. That told her there was more on his mind than words conveyed. But what? What put that extra depth of dark in his eyes? What hid there? She aimed to find out. Only to understand him if they were to try and build a friendship. For Joel and Amber’s sakes, of course.

“So, friends?” He uncrossed his arms and reached out his hand to her.

Did he want her to actually shake on it? What if he put the moves on her again?
Don’t be ridiculous, Celia
.

She tried hard not to judge. God knew she battled gladiators of doubt in that arena. It took a lot to convince her so she mostly kept church people at bay. Like right now.

Manny’s hand dropped to the bed with a dull thud and he looked…dejected. Regret singed her stomach lining. She had no right pointing out other people’s faults when she stumbled over plenty of her own. Still, trust didn’t come easy to her and when it finally did, discernment of men’s ongoing motives ate at her constantly. Especially dangerous and powerful men like Manny who possessed charm and who reminded her so much of her father.

A knock outside Manny’s door drew their attention.

“Hello?” Joel poked his head in. “I’ve got two guys out here anxious to see Manny and his killer bruises.”

Manny grinned and eyed Celia. “Bradley and Javier?”

He remembered her son’s name? Her heart thawed a degree.

Manny situated his covers. “Let ’em in.”

“Dude! That musta hurt.” Javier gaped at the swelling and bruises on Manny’s face and arms. Bradley just stared. Celia hoped it wouldn’t strike fear in his heart about Joel.

“Slightly.” Manny grinned.

“What’s gonna happen now?” Javier asked.

“According to the doctors, intense physical therapy for up to a year. I had to have reconstructive surgery on my hip.”

“When will you get to jump again?” Javier asked.

Manny didn’t answer for the longest time. It tore at her heart to watch his throat constrict like that but she knew he tried to be brave.

“I’m not sure,” Manny finally answered.

“Ah, dude, you will get to jump again, right?” Javier asked.

Again, the Adam’s apple in Manny’s throat gave him away. “I hope so. The next six months will tell.”

“Six months? That stinks. Bradley said you might do rehab here.”

For some reason Manny flicked a glance Celia’s way and held it there, almost like a question. “I might.”

“Dude, I hope you do. I mean, you’re a PJ. An American hero. If you ever wanna use Dad’s weight room in our basement, dude, feel free. Mom could never get rid of it, ’cause she used to walk the treadmill while Dad and I pumped iron. If you ever need a workout buddy, I’m game.”

Manny’s eyes glittered with something Celia couldn’t discern. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Wait. Manny working out in her house? Getting all sweaty and buff just a floor beneath her?

Nuh-uh. Nope. That wouldn’t be good. What if she ended up falling for the guy or something crazy? She didn’t like that idea.

She decided against scolding Javier in front of Manny. That might damage her relationship with Javier further. But as soon as she got him alone, he needed to know not to make suggestions like that without consulting her first. She caught Javier’s eye and tossed him “The Mommy Look” instead, which he pretended not to see.

Unease cinched her stomach tight at the look of hero worship coming from her son’s eyes every time he looked at Airman Péna. Maybe she should keep space between the two of them. She’d worked all these years to steer Javier toward choosing a sensible career, not dangerous ones. Javier didn’t seem at all fazed by Manny’s injuries.

She worked three jobs and scraped every penny to send him to college. She planned to surprise Javier by prepaying tuition at the local university. That would give him a good start. A better one than she’d had. Hopefully, Javier would appreciate her sacrifice and do well. She could see him behind a fancy executive desk. Certainly not stuffed in some tank or chopper.

Javier cracked his knuckles. “Dude, I hope you get to go back to the military. That’s the coolest job in the world.”

All right. That’s it
. Celia snapped fingers at her son. “Javier, we need to go. Gotta get crackin’ on that homework.”

Javier half faced her, his shoulders slumped. “But I have all weekend to—”

“Please don’t argue with your mom, Javier,” Manny said in gentle but firm tones.

Celia, Javier and Bradley turned to the bed. Javier started to open his mouth. Manny cast a no-contest expression his way that bordered on stern.

Oh, boy, here we go. Her son unfortunately had been cursed with her short fuse of a temper and had inherited her inability to control her tongue.

Which is why it surprised her when Javier’s stance softened instead of hardened into his typical defensive posture.

Javier bounced on his heels. “Yeah. I need to split and plow through that homework, dude. So, we’ll see you later.”

Manny waved at Javier and Bradley, and winked at her. “Later.”

Winked. At her?

What on earth was she supposed to make of that? The last thing Celia wanted for her or Javier was a flirt with danger.

Celia straightened her spine and ushered the boys into the hall without a backward glance. The quiet chuckle following from inside the room made her want to trot right back in there and assault him with his IV pole. A conk right between the eyes should do it.

She let out a long, unladylike groan. This was going to be the longest six months of her life.

M
anny hated this. Six months couldn’t get here fast enough. He absolutely despised, loathed and abhorred having to depend on other people.

He gave his bedside table a little shove. Maybe too hard. It bumped his crutches propped up against the wall at the head of his bed. They slid sideways and clattered to the floor.

He lay back and groaned. Where was that reacher thing that came in his hip kit? His precautions wouldn’t allow him to bend or squat to get the crutches. He scanned the room.

Great. His hip kit sat near his closet…across the room.

Manny eyed the call light. Nah, he’d figure a way to do this himself. He was sick and tired of having to call for help every time he needed to blow his nose, brush his teeth or blink.

Why couldn’t he remember to leave stuff within reach?

He’d spent five days post-op in the hospital, then five days in the short-term rehab center where he was now. Nurses and physical therapists waited on him hand and foot. Even to the humiliating point of having to help him use the bedpan.

He’d been subjected to daily bed baths with sticky soap and stinky lotion and towels that were never big enough. Not to mention hard beds and lumpy pillows that squeaked every time he moved, then drenched his head with sweat once sleep did come. When he had finally gotten to shower, the water had been tepid.

He loathed the line-over, the grove of trees and the gust of wind that had reduced him to this. Hated that he wasn’t up in the sky with his team where he belonged. He knew he should be thankful, but today he only felt like sulking. He hadn’t had a meltdown the entire time since the accident.

Until today.

On top of everything, his caboose still hurt like mad. He couldn’t sleep in this place, couldn’t get comfortable, couldn’t switch positions period. Exhaustion overtook him to the point he’d turned twitchy. Irritation gnawed every corner of his previously rational mind to scattered shreds. C.O. Petrowski needed to know about this place.

Why send potential SEALs to train at Coronado when they could come right here to Refuge Rehab? Only his military training had pushed him to these edge-of-human-endurance limits. Going on three weeks with ten total hours of sleep wore on him. His skin zinged with discontent and his eyes burned with fatigue. He’d caved one night and had taken a sleeping pill.

Which had caused the nightmares.

His only reprieve from this place was Javier’s daily visits. The kid stopped in on his break from his driver’s ed class across the street. He made Manny laugh with stories of his teacher who showed up with boxes of doughnuts, which he offered student drivers. Every time they took a doughnut, the teacher would knock points off. Apparently, Javier had taken driver’s ed twice and not passed. He was on his third try.

Manny realized early on Javier was the same age his son would have been, had he lived. That had both renewed his grief and awed him with wonder about what Seth would have been like. Would he be the kind of kid who shunned hugging, like Javier, who preferred some fancy teen handshake?

Somehow, having Javier around wrought healing. Manny didn’t understand it, didn’t try to. He just took it as a gift from God for this hard season in his life when he was grounded from the sky and all he held dear.

Manny maneuvered his table to try and hook the crutch and drag it back. Then how would he pick it up?

Thankfully, Joel returned that moment with coffee.

“Hey, grab the twins, will ya?” Manny eyed the crutches.

Joel set the two steaming cups down then picked up the metal devices. He propped them between the wall and the head of Manny’s bed. “Did you think about my offer?”

He had. It had been kind and generous. “Joel, you’re still technically a newlywed, man. I can’t stay with you and your wife.” Manny shook his head. “No.”

Joel pocketed his hands. “Don’t be obstinate. We have a huge house. Plenty of space for our privacy and yours.”

“Okay, to be fair, though I could do without the squeaky pillows, I’m extremely impressed with this rehab center and its staff. But I can’t intrude on your new family.”

“It was Amber’s idea. Bradley’d love it, and so would I.”

“I understand but, dude, I’d feel uncomfortable. I’m a total jerk when I hurt and no one should have to be around me. Sure, I’d like to stay in Refuge to recoup, but I don’t know if staying with you is such a good idea. I’d be all depressed and stuff when you’d get to skydive and I didn’t.”

Joel nodded in an understanding manner.

“I’m really trying to keep things in proper perspective, and just be thankful I’m alive. It’s a real struggle losing my mobility and the ability to do what I want when I want.” Manny sighed. “I want back in that sky—with you guys.”

Keys jangled in Joel’s pocket. “All the more reason to stay in Refuge for rehab. Your surgeons have said this is the place to be with your kind of injury. I checked it out. The facility has held the number-two spot in the nation for five years.”

Manny flexed and extended his feet to circulate blood in his calf muscles. “I know. Okay, listen. Maybe I could rent a room at that B and B place you used to stay when dating Amber.”

“They’re closed this season. Amber sort of crashed into it last year. The owner decided to add some rooms since they had to remodel the damaged area anyway. So the B and B’s out. Seriously, Manny, we have a guest room that has its own bathroom. It’s big enough we can stick a portable table in there and set up a little kitchenette.”

“That seems like so much trouble.” Manny chewed his lip thinking about it, though.

“No trouble for a brother. ’Sides, if the situation were reversed, you’d do the same for me. Right?”

Manny certainly couldn’t refute that. “Maybe I could look into an apartment.”

“Waste of money when you could have free room and board. Besides, your surgeons said they’d prefer you stay with someone in case you need help the first few months.”

“I know.” Manny hated the thought of needing assistance for so long, but there was no help for it. Not like he could rewind time and erase the crash. He had a new respect for disabled people.

Joel leaned his elbows on the table. “So what do you say? At least come by and look at it.”

Manny drew a slow breath. “No, dude, I don’t need to look at it. All right. If you’re sure Amber’s cool with it, I guess you have yourself a deal. I’d like you to let me help out with bills and stuff though.”

“Not necessary. I want you to focus on getting better so you can rejoin the team. We need you, Péna. I don’t want you to even think about paying us a dime. Amber would feel bad if you felt indebted to us over this.”

“Hard not to.” Manny’s cell phone rang. Caller ID read his mom, who’d called daily since the accident. He decided to let voice mail pick it up and call her later.

Joel braced his hands on the back of the wooden spindle chair, which creaked with his weight. Though Manny compared to Joel in muscle mass, Joel stood about six-foot-four while Manny barely hit five-eleven. He was the stocky one of the team.

“There’s only one foreseeable problem with you staying at my place.”

Manny scratched stubble on his chin. “Yeah, what’s that?”

“I know you and Celia don’t exactly get along. She and Amber are working on a school project a few days a week at our house. That gonna be a problem?”

Manny knew Celia and Javier had moved a few blocks down from Joel and Amber’s house. Javier had mentioned them selling their home after Celia’s husband died. Manny wondered if it had to do with financial struggle or because her old home held too many hard memories. Either way, he felt bad for Celia. He certainly didn’t want to add turmoil to her life. “Never mind me, how’s Celia gonna feel about me being there?”

Warning bells sounded in Manny’s head when Joel took a little too long to answer. “Honestly, I’m not sure. If it becomes a problem, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. As long as you can deal with it on your end, Amber and I will try to buffer it from Celia’s end.”

Manny shrugged, but inside, Joel’s words scraped his stomach like sandpaper. Celia’d flipped out when she’d discovered Javier had been visiting Manny every day.

What was up with that?

She’d been spiteful in her words ever since, or avoiding him altogether. When Manny would ask Javier if his mother knew he was here, Javier would shrug and change the subject. Maybe Celia hadn’t believed Manny about his conversion. Sure, Manny was far from perfect, but he knew inside his core that he’d given his heart to God. He trusted God would help him overcome his struggles. Why couldn’t she trust God with it, too?

The only thing he could think that would make sense of her rude behavior was that maybe she feared Manny would be a bad influence on Javier.

“You and Amber don’t need to worry about anything except getting used to each other and raising a son who’s not yet in the best of health. If Celia and I have differences, we’ll work them out.” Even if that meant avoiding one another.

Carving out time with Javier would become a challenge, though. Hopefully, Celia wouldn’t think he was placing himself in her path deliberately.

Manny needed to secure his future with the team. That included time to heal and to get his reconstructed hip and quad muscles back in shape within a few months or he’d likely get an involuntary medical discharge from the military. They might as well shoot him and put him out of his misery if that happened. He couldn’t imagine life without being a PJ, rescuing people or being part of the team. He’d find a way to put up with Ms. Munez to keep his dream of staying a PJ alive.

For sure, these could be the most grueling months of his life. He had to push through it. He’d mind his own business and she’d do the same and they’d be fine.

Except he knew Javier would want to come hang out. Something in that kid tugged at Manny’s heartstrings. Yanked, really. A bond was quickly forming between them that he knew Javier felt, too, because of how he opened up. It was more than Javier being the age his son would be had he lived, more than the fact that Javier didn’t have a strong father figure in his life. Not only that, Javier would likely visit Bradley often as the two had a brotherly bond, though there was an age gap there.

Manny got the impression from Javier that his maternal grandfather was absent from their lives. Javier’s paternal grandfather had died. Manny thought how his own parents lamented over no longer having a grandson. The rest of the grandchildren were girls.

Sharp pains of missing Seth mowed Manny over. He willed them to fade.

His son had died and he’d been the reason for it.

So, if God put Javier in Manny’s path, it had to be for a reason. Manny refused to turn his back even if it meant dealing with his mother.

“I’d like to stay with you if your family’s okay with that,” he told Joel. He’d deal with Celia as problems arose.

Never mind that his pulse did ridiculous things the few times before their latest blowout that she’d shown up after getting off work at the school. Celia’d even brought him a stuffed animal with a camouflage vest.

Dumb bear. Every time he stared at it he thought of her. It even smelled like her perfume.

Manny shook off his delusions. He snatched up a bag of socks from the table, smashed the package in his fist and hurled it at the bear, knocking it off the window ledge. It tumbled behind the chair. Good. No more reminders of Miss Hot Tamale.

Except then he remembered she was the one who’d brought the socks after hearing him complain the hospital-issued booties made him feel like a maternity patient.

Joel, previously silent, stared at the spot the bear used to be, then the lump of socks that now resided on the window ledge. He cast Manny a peculiar glance, but didn’t ask.

Manny’s surgeon knocked briefly before breezing into the room. He stood at the foot of the bed, perusing his daily progress chart, then assessed his hip bandage. “I know you’re anxious to get out of here, Airman Péna. You’re eligible for discharge in a couple of days. We need to decide where you are going for the remainder of your physical therapy.”

“No offense, Doc, but I’m beyond ready to make like lettuce and head out.” Manny cast a look of gratitude toward Joel. “I’ll be staying with my buddy here if I decide to finish out my rehab in Refuge. I’ll get back to you about it.”

The surgeon smiled, nodded at Joel, then strode from the room.

Manny leaned back in the bed and clasped his hands across the back of his neck. “If my military insurance approves this facility, I’ll take that as a green light I’m meant to be here in Refuge.”

He determined to learn to hear from God. Joel bought him a new Bible last week that he could understand better than the one he had. Every day since, he’d been reading and tuning in—as Joel called it, “hooking up” with God in prayer.

Now to obey the little prompting that refused to die regarding Celia and Javier. He’d been having thoughts he couldn’t ignore. He had run it by Joel, who’d said in his opinion the persistence of the thoughts caused him to lean toward believing it was God’s voice. Manny would rather obey what he thought to be God and be wrong, than not obey and it end up being God. Hence, he had two goals while in Refuge.

One was to heal within six months so he could return to his duties as a U.S.A.F. PJ.

The other was to bow to the gentle nudge to do whatever it took to crack that seemingly impenetrable shell Celia had built around herself. Prove to her once and for all that, by God’s continued grace, he was not the same man he was at the Montgomery wedding.