After the War Page 3

  “My husband died in Iraq, ma’am.” The hurt no longer blocked her throat like it once had, no longer crushed her lungs and kept her from speaking, but the lump was still there. Still made her clear her throat so she could breathe again.

  She was still off kilter from the altercation with Sean. That was all.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” A bland platitude. It wasn’t always. Most people meant it when they said they were sorry.

  But Wilson didn’t. She was the kind of officer who punished other women who dared do the Army differently than she did—single, childless, and as manly as the men.

  Sarah had forgotten that there were officers out there like Wilson. She’d been so fortunate to work with other women who lifted each other up rather than tore each other down. Women like Claire, who pushed her to do better instead of tripping her up. Guess her luck had finally run out.

  Sarah remained silent, figuring there was nothing she could do or say at this point to dig her ass out of the hole she’d gotten herself into by missing a meeting she hadn’t known about. Awesome first impression with the battalion XO. Fantastic start in the new unit.

  Everything that was important to her slipped a little further out of reach as she stood beneath the unflinching scrutiny of Major Wilson. Her hard work to stay in the Army even after Jack died. Her need to stay in the fight, to be a soldier. To make a difference. All of those reasons that mattered so much to her slipped a little further away.

  “Submit a leave form for tomorrow and any future days you need to take off work to care for your family.” Wilson paused, her expression cold. “I hope you don’t have a sickly child.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Good. I can’t afford to have staff officers missing work. We’ve got too much to do with the current deployment cycle.”

  Sarah waited until she was alone before sinking into her chair and cupping her face in her hands.

  Had she kicked puppies in a previous life? Drowned kittens or something?

  “Major Wilson can be really tough, but she’s not that bad once you get to know her,” LT Picket said from the doorway.

  “I’m sure she’s normally charming,” Sarah said dryly. She looked over to find Picket still in the doorway. “Can I help you with something, LT?”

  Picket chewed on her lip, and Sarah couldn’t decide if the gesture annoyed her or not. “Is it true? You’re really a single mom because your husband died in Iraq?”

  The lieutenant’s earnestness was such a stark contrast to the banal chill in Major Wilson’s eyes. God, had she ever been that young and naïve? And holy hell, when did all these personal questions become normal for people to ask?

  “Yes.” Wow, she did not want to have this conversation tonight. Or ever, for that matter.

  Picket’s expression was instantly sad, the way only a young soldier who had not yet gone to war could be. It was honest and real and it reached in and squeezed Sarah’s heart. “I’m so sorry.”

  There was nothing Sarah could say to that.

  Sarah finished her leave form. “Can you drop this off at the company for me?”

  “Sure, ma’am.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be back in a little bit. Have to get my daughter, before my late night meeting with the boss.”

  * * *

  “Thirteen hours after I call you, lieutenant, you decide to show up?”

  Wilford Paul Smith, III stood at the position of attention in front of Sean’s desk. His white button-up shirt was stained with blood and his khaki pants were ripped at one knee. He reeked like a Porta-Potty in Iraq in August even from six feet away. “I came as soon as I got your message, sir.”

  “Clearly, we need to come to a common understanding of what ASAP actually means.” Sean rocked back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. He remained silent for a long moment. Long enough to make Smith squirm.

  The little fucker was lying to him. Sean had already gotten the report from one of his platoon leaders. Smith hadn’t come as soon as he’d gotten the call. He’d stayed out partying until he passed out in LT Biggs’s back seat. The only reason he still looked like shit was because Biggs had left him in the car when Biggs had reported to PT formation that morning. “So make it a good one,” Sean finally said.

  “Sir?” Smith broke his hundred-yard stare from some point over Sean’s head to meet his gaze briefly.

  There was something smarmy about his stance, something Sean couldn’t put his finger on.

  “The story. Why you’re getting into fights with one of my NCOs? Make it a good one.”

  Smith’s nostrils flared. “Are you going to read me my rights first, sir?”

  Heat crawled up Sean’s neck. He ground his teeth and yanked his temper back viciously. It was forever before he leaned forward. By some act of God, he did not raise his voice. He kept his voice perfectly calm and flat. “You can invoke your rights, LT. That’s perfectly fine. There’s a 15-6 investigation ongoing as of right now.” Smith’s expression flickered, then shuttered closed once more, revealing nothing more than a hard night of drinking. “I encourage you to think long and hard about the content of your statement.”

  Smith’s red-rimmed eyes narrowed and landed quickly on Sean’s face before finding a spot over Sean’s shoulder. He cleared his throat. “I already gave my statement to the Harker Heights PD, sir.”

  Sean let him squirm just a little inside of his hundred-dollar khakis.

  “Stand fast in the ops,” Sean said.

  Smith left the office less sharply than he’d entered it. There was uncertainty in his movement now. Good. Sean wanted him to squirm.

  Sean stepped out of his office. Morgan sat at the conference room table, the Army Times spread out before him like he was reading the Sunday paper. “What’s your plan, sir?”

  “I’m going to find the investigating officer,” Sean said. “See if she’ll interview him tonight instead of waiting.”

  Morgan glanced up, then back at his paper. “I take it I’ll be keeping him and Sergeant Dances-With-Fists separated?”

  Sean shook his head and fought a grin. “Roger that. I want this over with sooner rather than later.”

  “And you think she’s going to come skipping down here because you ask her to?” Morgan asked.

  Sean stopped at the front door of his ops. “I’m a commander. Staff officers work for commanders.”

  Morgan looked up at him. “Clearly you haven’t been paying attention in command and staff.”

  Sean pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need this wrapped up. We don’t have time for outside officers to be getting into our affairs.”

  “We don’t have time for lieutenants and sergeants to be coming to blows at bars downtown, either.”

  “What’s your point, Top?”

  “My point is that if you’d dealt with Kearney the first time I recommended you throw the damn book at him, we wouldn’t be dealing with his bullshit now.”

  Sean swallowed hard. “So this is your way of saying I told you so?”

  Morgan stood and gripped Sean’s shoulder. “I get it, sir,” he said quietly. “I understand why you’re reluctant to take action against a man you bled with in combat. But he’s detracting from the mission in a big way.” Morgan released his shoulder. “I’ll support whatever you want to do, sir, but I strongly recommend dealing with Kearney and his shit.” Morgan paused before folding up his paper. “He needs to soldier, or he needs to go home, sir.”

  Sean stood there for a moment, letting his first sergeant’s advice sink in. Morgan was sharp, one of the strongest first sergeants Sean had ever served with.

  But he was wrong about Kearney.

  Sean headed to the support battalion headquarters, hoping to find out what unit Sarah was in so he could get a hold of her.

  He hated going into the support battalion headquarters. Their battalion executive officer was known to make grown men cry. She’d gotten a hold of Sean’s fellow commander Captain Bello a few weeks back and h
ad damn near ripped his soul out through his nostrils for allowing trucks to be driven without proper equipment in them.

  Wilson couldn’t be all bad if she was ripping into Bello. It was a perverse sort of pleasure that Sean took from seeing that fucking guy get his ass handed to him.

  He rounded the corner leading from the parking lot toward her battalion headquarters and stopped, his heart frozen in his chest.

  Sarah was walking toward the headquarters, holding the hand of a small, dark-haired little girl. Her entire body was relaxed as she tipped her head toward the small child and listened intently to whatever the child was saying.

  In that instance, his fears were confirmed. In the face of that child, he saw very clearly the image of a man he’d once known.

  Crossing the years, the hurt returned, as sharp and cutting as it had been that long-ago day. He felt the heat of the burning truck. The asphalt digging into his skin. The ghost of a brother long gone but not forgotten stared back at him from that little girl’s face.

  Anders.

  Jack Anders.

  Sarah was Jack Anders’s widow.

  That little girl was Jack Anders’s daughter.

  Sarah looked up. Across the quad, their eyes met. Sean stood, rooted and motionless in the spot.

  Marry me, Sarah.

  I can’t.

  The memory slammed into him, a thousand points of violence penetrating the darkness surrounding his soul.

  She swallowed then and looked down at the little girl.

  He turned, then, and walked away, the force of the memories driving him away from her.

  From the life that could have been that stared back at him from the face of that little girl.

  Four

  “Who’s that, Mommy?” Anna asked, holding her Happy Meal to her chest like it was the most precious thing in the world. Which, to be fair, it probably was, since Sarah did her damnedest not to buy the stupid things.

  Sarah watched Sean walk away, relieved that he hadn’t approached. She wasn’t ready to deal with him again today. And she damn sure wasn’t about to get into a pissing contest with him in front of her little girl. She didn’t want Anna to see what Mommy had to deal with at work. She didn’t want her to see that side of her.

  Sarah’s heart started beating again as she watched his back as he walked away. But it was a long moment before her mouth formed the words she needed. “No one important, baby.”

  Because he wasn’t. Not anymore.

  Sarah had never felt like she was being pulled both ends against the middle like she was at that instant. She wasn’t actually sure who she was more irritated with as she had driven on post with Anna in tow, but either way, she’d been given an order and, well, she didn’t really have the option to say no.

  She walked into the battalion headquarters, shoving aside her irritation as she saw another friendly face.

  Sergeant First Class Reza Iaconelli. He’d damn near ruined the training exercise before her previous deployment, but he was a close friend of Claire’s, which meant she was a friend of his.

  Anna ducked into the latrine.

  He smiled when he saw her. “Thought you were downrange, ma’am?” he asked by way of greeting.

  Sarah’s leg ached at the question. “I was. Got sent home early.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Brigade commander never really got over the Colorado incident.”

  His dark skin flushed beneath the fluorescent lights. “Yeah, well, his loss. I thought you were doing a hell of a job.”

  Sarah waved a hand dismissively. “How have you been?”

  “Good. Sober, so that’s a win, right?” He looked down at her legs. “What’s with the limp?”

  “Accident downrange.”

  He nodded slowly. “So that’s what brings you to the Death Dealer battalion?” he said, trying to shift the conversation.

  “More or less. I’m in the support battalion.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said after a moment. “I know how important command was to you.”

  “Thank you.” She swallowed. “Why are you here?”

  “Paperwork for the range next week.” Reza shrugged. “What’s got you hanging out after duty hours?”

  “Investigating a fight between a lieutenant and a sergeant.”

  “Kearney and Smith, huh? Kind of surprised they’ve got you investigating that. It’s pretty cut and dry.”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying since I got it. There’s nothing to investigate, honestly.” She didn’t bother to hide her frustration with the case and the entire situation. “LT Smith made some comment about Kearney’s wife; they fought. I’ve literally been in this unit for less than a week, and I’m already getting a feel for how nuts this place is.”

  He chuckled. “It’s got some good things about it. The senior leadership is at least aware that they’ve got a serious problem on their hands and are at least willing to address it.”

  Sarah lifted one eyebrow. “From what I hear about some of the lieutenants around here, you’ll have to excuse my suspicion on that quarter.”

  “Yeah, well, there are some bright spots of give-a-damn.”

  “Surrounded by a sea of incompetence?”

  “What’s the saying? There are pockets of incompetence in every organization? Well, we’re trying to suppress an outbreak of malfeasance.”

  Sarah laughed as Anna came out of the bathroom. It felt good to laugh. “Ready, honey?”

  Anna ignored her and looked up at Reza. “Who are you?”

  Reza hunkered down to Anna’s level and stuck out his hand. “I’m Reza. I’m a friend of your mommy’s.”

  Anna shook it somberly. “I’m Anna. Do you have any kids?”

  Reza’s smile darkened just a little. Not so much that Anna would have noticed, but Sarah did. Reza was a man with many demons. Some from the war, some from things Sarah could only guess at. But he responded to her daughter’s question with a gentleness that should have been impossible for a warrior like him.

  “No, no kids for me,” he said to Anna.

  “Why not?”

  But Sarah didn’t have time to stop her daughter’s questions. Major Wilson stepped into the hall. “Any time you’re ready, captain.” Her voice grated down Sarah’s spine, then she disappeared back into her office.

  Reza met her gaze as he straightened. “If it makes you feel any better, she was probably potty trained at gunpoint.” His voice was low.

  Sarah bit her lips to suppress the laugh that almost snuck out. “I’ll keep that in mind when she’s ripping me a new one.”

  “Enjoy.”

  Sarah sat Anna down in the command group chairs and prayed she would stay distracted with her dinner. She sucked in a deep breath and held it a moment before she knocked on Wilson’s door. The XO looked up over the rim of surprisingly trendy black-rimmed glasses. The elegant frames did nothing to make her less terrifying. She looked like a female version of the Grinch in designer glasses. “You’re early.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Figured it would be bad form to be late twice in one day.” She flushed, the words escaping before she had a chance to engage her mute button. Damn it, this situation did not call for sarcasm.

  Wilson arched one brow but said nothing. After a waiting long enough for Sarah to fight the urge to fidget, she pointed toward the seat across from her desk.

  Sarah sat, her hands resting on her thighs as she waited.

  Wilson finally finished whatever she’d been working on, then turned her attention to Sarah. She felt like a hamster caught in the open beneath the gaze of a hungry cat.

  “I don’t have a written counseling for you, Sarah.”

  Sarah sat absolutely still. It was kind of like Jurassic Park: the T-Rex could only see you if you moved.

  “I’m going to be straightforward with you.” Wilson removed her glasses, setting them on the desk. “Single mothers do not make good officers.”

  Sarah’s heart was pounding in her ears. Her p
alms slicked with sweat against her thighs. Still, she did not move. Wilson’s words settled around her heart like a vise, squeezing slowly.

  Sarah breathed deeply through her nose, trying to figure out the right response. At the moment, her options were completely losing her shit or partially losing her shit. Neither one felt like a particularly viable plan of attack.

  Wilson, however, did not seem to recognize Sarah’s dilemma.

  “Bringing your child to work with you is unprofessional and speaks to a lack of foresight and proper planning on your part.” Wilson never blinked or looked away from Sarah. It was like she was trying to make Sarah flip out. Which, to be fair, was starting to look like a likely course of action. “You were fired from command before setting foot in Iraq. You haven’t deployed since 2003. You’ve been hiding out and avoiding your duty while the rest of the Army has been fighting this war.”

  Sarah couldn’t force enough air into her lungs. Denial burned in her lungs. It was a long time before she trusted her voice not to break when she spoke. “Ma’am, I think it’s a little unfair that you’ll judge me on one, my first day here and two, the one time in the last six months my daughter has gotten sick.”

  Wilson shook her head slowly. “I’ve been an officer for nearly ten years. Children are never sick only rarely. This week it’s a fever. Next week a school play.” Wilson still didn’t blink. It was really creepy. “I will not tolerate your childcare issues interfering with your duty performance.”

  Sarah’s skin was clammy.

  She and Jack had always talked about how they would manage both of them having military careers if they ever had kids. It was what she’d loved about him—he’d fully supported her need to be a soldier. He hadn’t asked her to give it up. Hadn’t asked her to choose between the one thing she’d ever been good at and the man she’d fallen in love with. It was heady stuff, leading soldiers.

  And for a while, she’d had the love of a good man and had loved her job.

  God, but things were so different without him. She’d gotten a taste of what making a difference could do as a commander. And she’d lost it before she’d ever gotten started. Shame burned up her neck at the memory. She almost buckled beneath the pressing sense of loss wrapping around her shoulders.