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I wrote to Major about all of it, pouring my worries and fears out to him the way I would a personal diary. He wrote back only to say it was all under control.
I didn’t know what that meant until I came home for Billy’s eleventh birthday a few months later and found Major, George Hobart, and my dad all sitting around the big farmhouse table in the kitchen crunching numbers at eleven o’clock at night.
“What’s going on?” I asked, tossing my overnight bag down and shucking off my coat.
My dad’s frown turned into a grin right away as he got up to give me a hug. “What’re you doing here? We thought you weren’t getting in till tomorrow. I was going to drive down and get you.”
I squeezed him tight for a second before pulling away. “I ran into a friend of mine, who said I could hop on a C-130 at Andrews and hitch a ride.” I looked over at Major. “Did you know Lynch is flying the big boys now?”
He nodded. “That’s Captain Lynch to you, Lieutenant,” he said with a wink.
“Never,” I hooted, reaching out to clap hands for a firm shake. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Major. What crazy wind blew you in here?”
Surprisingly, it was George, Betsy’s dad, who answered. “He’s coming on board, so we had to go over some things.”
I stared at the three of them like the village idiot. “What do you mean, he’s coming on board?”
“Sit down, son. You want a beer?” my dad said kindly.
“Yeah, I guess. I’ll grab it though.”
When I walked over to the fridge, I felt Major get up and follow me. His large hand landed warm and strong on my shoulder. The man never failed to calm my ass down just by being nearby. I took a deep breath.
“Everything’s fine,” he said softly. “No need to worry.”
I pulled out a few cans of beer, handing him a couple to offer the other men. When we returned to the table, I could see how tired and worn down George appeared. Marsha’s illness was taking its toll.
My dad started. “I was already talking to Weston about taking over as foreman when he retired from the army.”
I didn’t let him finish. My eyes flashed to Major with accusation. “You’re retiring? Since when? And how come I didn’t know about this?”
His face remained passive and calm like it always did when I got belligerent. “We’ll talk about it later, Liam.”
I stared at him while something in my belly twisted oddly. It was another one of those situations in which he seemed so in control, it was like I had permission to not have to take charge. It was oddly freeing, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of telling him that.
George cleared his throat. “I need to be able to spend more time with Marsha right now.”
“Understandable,” I agreed. “But I’m happy to—”
“No,” Major said, cutting me off. “It’s all worked out. You’re staying at Johns Hopkins.”
I felt my jaw click shut and my nostrils flare. I was the man in this family, dammit. Not him. “You don’t get to—”
Betsy’s voice came from over my shoulder. “He’s right, Liam. If you’ll just stop and listen to the man…”
I turned to find her leaning in the doorjamb. She wore her hair up in a messy bun and had on one of my flannel work shirts over baggy trousers. I got up and approached her, pulling her in for a hug and kiss. “Hey,” I murmured. “The kids asleep?” I knew the answer since it was so late, but it popped out of my mouth out of habit.
“They’d better be,” she said with a soft snort. “Or someone’s getting a spanking.”
I brushed the hair off her face and kissed her forehead before pulling away. She was the least likely person to ever spank a child, so I laughed and popped her lightly on the ass. “Maybe you for not reading them enough stories?”
When I turned back toward the table, I noticed Major’s head was turned away and his ears were red. Had my flirting with my wife embarrassed him?
I took my seat again at the table. “Okay, I’m listening. What’s the plan?”
Chapter 16
Weston “Major” Marian
That right there—that easy affection between Liam and his wife—was the reason I never should have said yes. I wasn’t sure I could stay there if it meant watching Doc and Betsy be sweet to each other. But that was why I had to insist he stay in Baltimore. I couldn’t… I couldn’t have him here every day like that. I couldn’t watch him kiss and love on his wife and live the life I so desperately wanted but could never have.
I’d only agreed to this cockamamie plan when Stan had played his trump cards.
