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“I don’t know. We never found out. We tried to get down to him, but there was an explosion. When the dust cleared, they all were gone.”
She released her hold then. Her fingers relaxed their grip on his bicep. But her hand didn’t leave him entirely. Her palm rubbed up and down his arm.
She wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was looking skyward.
Beside them, Brandon heard a small sob. He’d known they weren’t alone, but it was the first time he gave any attention to the pastor’s daughter. Elsbeth Barrett covered her mouth with her hand and looked away. Tears streamed down her already red eyes.
Brandon was certain he’d get the same reaction from Reegan. But her jaw was firm, determined. Her gaze was clear. And her hand was still on his arm, offering him the support he should have been giving to her.
"So, you think he was blown up?” Reegan asked. “And that's why there was no body?”
Brandon hesitated. Explosions left traces. A recovery team had been sent in, and they’d come back with nothing. It was more likely that the insurgents had taken the bodies.
"Did you go back and look for him? Did they find his dog tags? What about civilians in the area? Did someone question them?”
"It doesn't work that way."
Brandon took a deep breath. He felt the heat of the desert licking over his neck at the rapid-fire questions. She didn’t understand. He’d already said too much.
Her hand finally fell away from him. Brandon was left feeling cold, alone in the bright heat of the Montana afternoon. There were those blue eyes staring at him. Accusing.
“Well, how does it work?" That beautiful voice rose, shouting at him.
"I did everything I could." He shouted, shooting up to standing. He was on his feet, towering over her.
Reegan looked up at him. Not in fear. In shock, confusion, and hurt. The sob that broke from her tore what was left of Brandon’s heart apart.
"I'm sorry," he said. But his voice was so raw, the lump so big, he wasn't sure the words even got out. Shame colored his vision until both women were a blur. He turned on his heel and, for the first time in his life, he ran away.
Chapter Ten
For the third time in three nights, Reegan’s house was packed. Every neighbor from along her block as well as a couple of streets over was in her living room. There were many tears as friends came to grips with the news. There was much light laughter as remembrances of a young, mischievous Reece were told. There was also more food than she could ever hope to eat in a lifetime on the kitchen table.
This was how her community remembered those who had gone home to heaven. The house had been even more filled when her parents had passed on. Those had been the hardest days of her life, but she'd had Reece at her side then.
There were plenty of people by her side now. The problem was, Reegan didn't feel as though Reece had passed on. She could still feel him in her heart.
All of the mourning going on in the family room was making her itch. All use of the past tense when anyone spoke of her brother was giving her a headache. What she really wanted was solitude.
"Remember how he loved dinosaurs," said Mrs. Peterman from next door. "I brought him a T-Rex, but he wanted a Brontosaurus."
Reegan nodded. She didn’t trust her voice not to ring with irritation or her words to be those of a mourning sister. Because she wasn’t in mourning.
She felt numb but not empty. She knew what loss felt like. She knew what it felt like when a loved one's spirit left the earth and traveled on. She'd experienced it before times two. This was not that.
She still felt the link between herself and her brother. But she couldn't explain it to anyone else. No one else got it besides Reece. Her twin never spoke about it, but she knew he'd felt it.
Once when she'd broken her arm at Girl Scouts camp miles away, Reece had cried out in pain at baseball practice. He'd been walking out to left field and no one was on the mound.
Reegan didn't feel any phantom pain now. She just felt tired, and cold, and lonely. Was that what Reece was feeling wherever he was? She ached that she couldn't reach out and touch him, comfort him.
She needed to find someone to listen to her. That someone wasn't Corporal Brandon Lucas. Behind the anger in his eyes, she'd seen a haunted look. Whatever had happened to Reece, he'd seen it with his own eyes and it tore at him.
Reegan had poked at him, but she didn’t feel ashamed. She had no choice. Her brother was alive and someone needed to go and find him.
"I put the casserole in the oven, dear,” said Mrs. Russo. The woman owned a diner on the main street and made the best lasagna in the entire state. “I had some trouble with the flame."
"The wire’s faulty," said Reegan. “I need to get someone out to take a look. I just keep putting it off."
