Fearless In Love
Page 47
“Have I mentioned today how brave you are?” Matt kissed her fingers. “Brave and beautiful.”
Her heart swelled at his sweet words. How could she have been so lucky as to find him?
Last night, he’d made love to her a second time in the shower with the water beating down on them, washing every inch of her the way he’d kissed every inch earlier in the bed. In the middle of the night, he’d woken her again, pleasuring her until she was a puddle of need. And again, with the morning sun falling across them, his hands on her hips guiding her as she’d ridden them both into oblivion.
I love you.
The words inside her screamed to get out. But though her heart felt close to bursting, the time wasn’t right. She didn’t want him to think she’d blurted it out simply because she was grateful for his help in finding her brother—or that it was all the hot sex. When she finally told him how deep her feelings ran, she wanted him to know the words came straight from her heart to his.
So she kept the emotion close, savoring it the way she did the feel of his skin on hers and his body inside her.
The miles rushed by until they were on the street where Mrs. Esterhausen lived. There were no boarded-up windows, no trash blowing in the breeze, yet the neighborhood looked exhausted. Most of the houses were in need of paint and new roofs, and the sidewalks were cracked by overgrown tree roots. In front of the Esterhausen place, the lawn had given way to scrubby tufts of grass and weeds. The white picket fence had grayed and was missing some of its pickets, like an old woman who’d lost her teeth. A rusting Chevy sat on blocks on the far side of the driveway. The shades were pulled, and there was no other car in sight.
He leaned over for a quick kiss meant to bolster her bravery before they both got out of the car. The gate to the front path hung open on a broken hinge, and her chest felt tight knowing that it was probably due to the loss of husband and father. Just as Ari’s life had changed when her dad died.
Matt’s fingers closed around hers as they walked up the path. The doorbell didn’t ring when they pressed the button, so she knocked. For the count of ten, they heard nothing. Then a thump of a door closing came from inside the house, and she knocked one more time.
At long last, the door opened to reveal a dark-haired woman, her face as drawn and exhausted as the neighborhood. “Yeah?” she asked, holding the door with one hand. Her gaze flicked between Ari and Matt. “I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling.”
“We’re not selling anything, Mrs. Esterhausen,” Ari told her.
The woman narrowed her eyes warily. “How do you know my name?” She might have been pretty a long time ago, but now her body was too thin, her face cut with deep lines that aged her by ten years.
“My brother, Gideon, served with your husband and—”
“What could you possibly want now?” Her voice turned hard and harsh, almost like a slap across Ari’s face. “After all this goddamned time?”
“Ma’am—” Matt began.
Mrs. Esterhausen stabbed a finger at him. “I’m asking her, so you just shut up.”
Matt’s fingers tightened around hers, and Ari knew he was about to jump in to protect her. But she couldn’t let him go off on this poor woman.
Squeezing his hand to show him she was okay, she said, “Please, I’m sorry if we’re bothering you. But I’ve been looking for my brother, and I came here today to ask you if you’ve ever seen him.”
“I saw him. He let my husband die out there. Then he came here expecting me to forgive him.”
Ari felt her body tingle, like a foot that had gone to sleep. First there was numbness, then pins and needles, then knives as the woman said, “My husband is dead and your brother still gets to live? No.” She glared at Ari. “No.”
“Ari,” Matt said softly, never taking his eyes off Mrs. Esterhausen.
She knew he was trying to warn her that they should leave before things got any worse. But though her heart was beating so hard it felt as if it might pound right out of her chest, Ari couldn’t leave.
The widow had to get it out. Ari knew what grief did, the terrible things people were capable of, the awful words they said. This woman’s children would be in their teens now. She’d had to raise them alone.
“The Army giveth and the Army taketh away,” the woman spat. “They left me with nothing. And what does your brother do? He brings me goddamned pictures.” She cursed in disgust. “I threw them back at him. I don’t forgive him. I don’t forgive the Army.”
“I’m sorry,” Ari said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. I won’t bother you again.”
“You better not. Now get off my property. And if you do find your brother, tell him to go to hell.”
Ari backed away, pulling Matt with her. She almost tripped off the concrete porch, and once they were outside the broken gate, Matt bundled her into the car, then quickly climbed in behind the wheel and drove them away.
After a few blocks, he pulled to the curb, shut off the engine, then gathered her into his arms. “I’m so sorry. That wasn’t right. It doesn’t matter what happened, she didn’t have the right to do that to you.” He stroked the tears from her cheeks. “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”
“They’re not for me.” Some were, but mostly, “I’m crying for Gideon.” For the things the woman must have said to him, the rage she must have taken out on him. “No wonder he disappeared. It would have been horrible.” She buried her face against Matt’s chest. The ache of Gideon’s trauma was almost too much to bear.
“I should never have brought you here. I’m so sorry I insisted.”
He held her tightly, his warmth flowing into her. And God, she needed him, his arms around her, his breath in her hair, his heart beating against her ear. “It’s not your fault. I needed to come here today so that I’d know why Gideon disappeared.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “I bet he never made it to the families of the other soldiers. Not after she ripped him apart.”
Matt gently wiped away another trickle of tears, first with his fingertips, then with his lips. Soft kisses meant to heal. “I’ve never met your brother, but something tells me he did make it. Because if he’s anything like you, he wouldn’t have stopped until his mission was complete.”
Her heart swelled at his sweet words. How could she have been so lucky as to find him?
Last night, he’d made love to her a second time in the shower with the water beating down on them, washing every inch of her the way he’d kissed every inch earlier in the bed. In the middle of the night, he’d woken her again, pleasuring her until she was a puddle of need. And again, with the morning sun falling across them, his hands on her hips guiding her as she’d ridden them both into oblivion.
I love you.
The words inside her screamed to get out. But though her heart felt close to bursting, the time wasn’t right. She didn’t want him to think she’d blurted it out simply because she was grateful for his help in finding her brother—or that it was all the hot sex. When she finally told him how deep her feelings ran, she wanted him to know the words came straight from her heart to his.
So she kept the emotion close, savoring it the way she did the feel of his skin on hers and his body inside her.
The miles rushed by until they were on the street where Mrs. Esterhausen lived. There were no boarded-up windows, no trash blowing in the breeze, yet the neighborhood looked exhausted. Most of the houses were in need of paint and new roofs, and the sidewalks were cracked by overgrown tree roots. In front of the Esterhausen place, the lawn had given way to scrubby tufts of grass and weeds. The white picket fence had grayed and was missing some of its pickets, like an old woman who’d lost her teeth. A rusting Chevy sat on blocks on the far side of the driveway. The shades were pulled, and there was no other car in sight.
He leaned over for a quick kiss meant to bolster her bravery before they both got out of the car. The gate to the front path hung open on a broken hinge, and her chest felt tight knowing that it was probably due to the loss of husband and father. Just as Ari’s life had changed when her dad died.
Matt’s fingers closed around hers as they walked up the path. The doorbell didn’t ring when they pressed the button, so she knocked. For the count of ten, they heard nothing. Then a thump of a door closing came from inside the house, and she knocked one more time.
At long last, the door opened to reveal a dark-haired woman, her face as drawn and exhausted as the neighborhood. “Yeah?” she asked, holding the door with one hand. Her gaze flicked between Ari and Matt. “I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling.”
“We’re not selling anything, Mrs. Esterhausen,” Ari told her.
The woman narrowed her eyes warily. “How do you know my name?” She might have been pretty a long time ago, but now her body was too thin, her face cut with deep lines that aged her by ten years.
“My brother, Gideon, served with your husband and—”
“What could you possibly want now?” Her voice turned hard and harsh, almost like a slap across Ari’s face. “After all this goddamned time?”
“Ma’am—” Matt began.
Mrs. Esterhausen stabbed a finger at him. “I’m asking her, so you just shut up.”
Matt’s fingers tightened around hers, and Ari knew he was about to jump in to protect her. But she couldn’t let him go off on this poor woman.
Squeezing his hand to show him she was okay, she said, “Please, I’m sorry if we’re bothering you. But I’ve been looking for my brother, and I came here today to ask you if you’ve ever seen him.”
“I saw him. He let my husband die out there. Then he came here expecting me to forgive him.”
Ari felt her body tingle, like a foot that had gone to sleep. First there was numbness, then pins and needles, then knives as the woman said, “My husband is dead and your brother still gets to live? No.” She glared at Ari. “No.”
“Ari,” Matt said softly, never taking his eyes off Mrs. Esterhausen.
She knew he was trying to warn her that they should leave before things got any worse. But though her heart was beating so hard it felt as if it might pound right out of her chest, Ari couldn’t leave.
The widow had to get it out. Ari knew what grief did, the terrible things people were capable of, the awful words they said. This woman’s children would be in their teens now. She’d had to raise them alone.
“The Army giveth and the Army taketh away,” the woman spat. “They left me with nothing. And what does your brother do? He brings me goddamned pictures.” She cursed in disgust. “I threw them back at him. I don’t forgive him. I don’t forgive the Army.”
“I’m sorry,” Ari said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you like this. I won’t bother you again.”
“You better not. Now get off my property. And if you do find your brother, tell him to go to hell.”
Ari backed away, pulling Matt with her. She almost tripped off the concrete porch, and once they were outside the broken gate, Matt bundled her into the car, then quickly climbed in behind the wheel and drove them away.
After a few blocks, he pulled to the curb, shut off the engine, then gathered her into his arms. “I’m so sorry. That wasn’t right. It doesn’t matter what happened, she didn’t have the right to do that to you.” He stroked the tears from her cheeks. “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”
“They’re not for me.” Some were, but mostly, “I’m crying for Gideon.” For the things the woman must have said to him, the rage she must have taken out on him. “No wonder he disappeared. It would have been horrible.” She buried her face against Matt’s chest. The ache of Gideon’s trauma was almost too much to bear.
“I should never have brought you here. I’m so sorry I insisted.”
He held her tightly, his warmth flowing into her. And God, she needed him, his arms around her, his breath in her hair, his heart beating against her ear. “It’s not your fault. I needed to come here today so that I’d know why Gideon disappeared.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “I bet he never made it to the families of the other soldiers. Not after she ripped him apart.”
Matt gently wiped away another trickle of tears, first with his fingertips, then with his lips. Soft kisses meant to heal. “I’ve never met your brother, but something tells me he did make it. Because if he’s anything like you, he wouldn’t have stopped until his mission was complete.”
