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“So…where do we, then? Is this just how it is? Maybe I’m being stupid. I should just let go, get on with my life.”
My breath hitches as he stands. I duck behind the wall, but not before I see him grab her hands, pulling her closer than he’s done with anyone.
Except for me.
I’m holding the oxygen in my lungs for what seems like forever, slowly counting, praying this isn’t an ex-girlfriend. Or, God forbid, a baby mama.
“Adam didn’t marry a stupid woman. Look at me, Bev. Right the hell here.” He’s growling. “Leave it to me. Stop worrying. Do you got enough money for Mikey? How’s that lung thing?”
“A little better this year.” She sniffs tearfully. “We’re…we’re getting money from the state and it’s helping a little. Not as much as I’d like. But please, Marshal, you can’t. You’ve already done so much. I’m not asking you for more loans.”
More? My ears are turning red. It’s none of my business, really, but I can’t figure out what’s actually happening here.
“I haven’t done enough. That’s the real truth. Whatever you need, Bev, just say it. Any time. I’m good for it.”
“Glad I could stop by, at least. It’s a long trip up from Missouri. I’m going to his grave a little less than I’d like. I’d be a fool to lose touch with his friends, too.” She sniffs again.
“Adam’s friends will always be mine, woman. Always welcome in this house. Don’t you forget it. He served, honorably, and he paid the ultimate price. I’m gonna make sure that wasn’t in vain.”
“I know, Marshal. Lord, every single day, I know.”
It goes quiet. I try to relax, knowing this isn’t anything crazy or serious, but when I look into the kitchen, he’s holding her.
Very close. Very tight. Looking straight through the wall with his face perched over her blonde hair.
“Anything comes up, you call. I’m happy you came by today, too. I’ve had…a lot going on lately. Needed the kick in the ass, seeing you again, to remind me what’s really important.”
“Take care. If you ever come south, you’ve always got a place to crash.”
“Same. You’re sure you want to go all the way to Des Moines?” He looks at her. The woman nods. “I’ll get Mia a play date with Mikey one of these days. That’s a promise.”
“You take care of yourself, Marshal Howard, you hear?” She takes a step or two away, still holding both his hands. “Next time we meet, I want to see you with somebody. Place could use a woman’s touch.”
“Actually…” He pauses. “Nah, forget it. I’ll walk you out to your car. Don’t forget the box!” He grabs something off the table, a small wooden container. I watch them head out through the screen door and down the snowy steps to a silver van.
It’s several minutes before Marshal returns. I stand by the stove, brewing coffee, unsure whether to chastise myself for being stupid or him for being secretive.
I don’t feel threatened by her anymore. Whatever it is, it isn’t romantic. There’s no goodbye kiss with this woman, no longing, just raw emotion and an old gratitude I don’t understand.
Of course, jealousy shouldn’t be a thing in the first place, however misplaced.
Maybe I’m just bothered because it’s a sign of yet another secret hole in his life to trip over.
I still don’t know who Marshal Howard really is.
Who is this man I’m sharing the best sex of my life with? The only sex of my life.
Who is he behind the rough stubble I love to run my fingers through and the smoking blue eyes? Beneath the loving father with the vicious exterior, there’s a stranger.
“Morning, darling,” he says, stepping inside, something wrapped in tinfoil under his arm.
He walks past me to the counter, pulling out the cutting board. Fresh banana scent fills the kitchen as soon as the package opens. He turns, grabbing a couple plates, a warmth I’ve only started seeing lately in his eyes. “Banana bread? It’s fresh baked by –“
“Bev, I know. Who is she?”
His eyes narrow. “Were you spying on us?”
“Nothing like that. I just came down and heard you talking. Sounded pretty serious. Like something you’d want me to stay out of. I didn’t want to intrude.” My cheeks are red fire. Am I being a major league bitch over this?
“Bev is Adam’s wife,” he says, stuffing a piece of bread into his mouth and swallowing loudly. “Widow, I should say. He was in my unit. We still talk, and every so often, she comes this way. Couldn’t stay long this time around. She’s got a sick father upstate and needs to get back to her kid.”
“It’s good,” I say, tasting the bread he’s left in front of me. It truly is. I haven’t had anything like it since I used to stop in the little Amish bakeries north of here. “What about the case you two were talking about? Sorry, I overheard…”
