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“Welcome!”
Amy jumped at the sound of her mother-in-law’s voice pouring through the speakers. Jango pushed up against Amy’s leg, steadying her.
“Guess it’s showtime.” Mark stepped to the side. “Ready?”
Shoulders back, Amy headed for the front of the tent determined to move past this grand spectacle.
“I’d like to introduce you to my daughter-in-law, Amy Benton,” Elizabeth continued. “Years ago, a shared love of dogs drew Amy and Darren together. I know many of you here today have boarded your pets with her or turned to Amy for help training your four-legged friends. I hope you will continue to support her efforts to make this business a success.”
Amy stumbled, quickly regaining her footing as she approached the big blue bow on the kennel’s front door. Her mother-in-law placed the microphone in her hand, leaning close.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth murmured.
As the older woman whom Amy had considered a second mother for so many years stepped away, Amy noted the gleam of unspilled tears in her eyes. There were lines on her face, visible up close despite Elizabeth Benton’s carefully applied makeup, that spoke to years of worry, first for her husband and then her boys.
“You’re welcome,” Amy said, feeling the truth behind those words for the first time. She had not set out to build this place as an ever-present link to her late husband, but she could pretend for one more day. Amy could take her place on that pedestal of perfection alongside the imperfect man she had loved and lost. And she would—for Elizabeth Benton, the woman who’d spent her life worrying and waiting. Amy could choose to never travel that path again. But this mother of five was locked into a future of not knowing if her sons were in danger or if they would return.
“Hello,” Amy began, pausing at the sound of her voice through the speakers. It was clear and strong. Looking out at the crowd, she spotted Luke and T.J., who stood in the front row, the medals on their dress uniforms sparkling under the strands of Christmas lights.
Don’t be selfish.
“Three years ago, when I first opened my K-9 boarding and training business, I had my husband’s full support. But then most of you knew Darren. He came from a family of dog lovers. Some of them are here today.” She paused, gesturing to the Benton brothers.
“He joined the navy determined to become a SEAL. Once he did that, he set his sights on becoming a war dog handler. He believed he could better serve his country with a four-legged teammate at his side. And Darren, well, he crushed every goal he ever set for himself,” she continued.
“One night, while he was home on leave, we came up with a plan to breed future war dogs.” My plan, she thought, knowing she was entering the gray area between fact and fiction. But she forced a smile and pressed on.
“After Darren gave his life in service of his country, I decided to turn the breeding and training center into a reality. I wanted to provide the best dogs. Animals that would keep the soldiers at their sides safe in war zones, where that feels like a foreign concept.”
Applause punctuated her words, growing and becoming louder. She saw the pride on Elizabeth Benton’s face. Amy’s gaze traveled through the crowd, landing on Mark. He’d remained in the back of the crowd, leaning against a tent pole. Her resolve faltered.
She’d danced naked for him last night, and she’d woken up today without regrets. The woman who’d done that—she was not a saint. Not even close. And that woman should not be up here, pretending.
She quickly looked away from Mark. No one knew. It was their secret. But how many more truths could she keep under lock and key before the pressure of carrying them from dawn to dusk broke her?
She’d wanted to find her place outside of Darren’s sha
dow, but now that she was standing in the spotlight, it felt as if she was risking too much, as if standing here illuminated fears she preferred to ignore.
13
MARK KNEW WHEN a mission had headed south. He’d seen it often, when fallen soldiers—out of their minds with pain, shaken by the recent memory of an attack—tried to escape the helicopter or fight the PJs working to save them.
Amy faltered, her smile and confidence slipping away. He saw it in her eyes, the way she glanced at the open field outside the tent. She’d delivered the performance everyone expected, the one that would offer the Benton family comfort. But he had a feeling she could only maintain the lie for so long.
Mark pushed off the tent pole and headed for her, sticking to the outskirts of the gathered crowd. He needed to get to Amy, to divert the focus and steal her away from here. She’d been through so much, worked so damn hard to pull her life together; she didn’t owe anyone an explanation.
She raised the microphone again. “I’m sorry. When I think about what these dogs are capable of, how they can help by detecting explosives, and so much more, I...” She pursed her lips together.
“Keeping those men safe, sending them home to their families, that is important to me,” she added softly.
The soft murmur of voices started as a whisper and grew to a roar, all in agreement. Applause followed, reminding him that everyone here today wished Darren’s last mission had resulted in a homecoming instead of a funeral.
Mark halted, steps from the front of the tent and Amy. He wanted Darren here, alive and breathing. But if Darren had lived, Amy would belong to his friend. Last night would never have happened.
No regrets. He’d written that rule. But damn, he felt torn between a need to help this brave, beautiful woman move forward, to honor their mutual attraction, and loyalty to the man who had been his closest friend.
One glance at this crowd drove home the fact that Darren was a good person, loved by so many. And Mark? Shit, he’d never merit this reception. No one would put his name on a building.
