Hero by Night (14 page)

“Yes.” She rose to greet the family she hadn't seen in months. “And I'm the one who fell apart.”

“You're putting yourself back together too,” he murmured. “Don't forget that.”

She glanced up at Chad, expecting to find him studying her family. But he wasn't. Chad was looking at her.

“Remember, Lena,” he said softly. “You set the boundaries and the limits. If this is too much, we'll take the egg rolls and run.”

 

Chapter 16

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the food?” Her lips offered the faintest hint of a smile. “Not exactly the way to win over my father.”

“I'm not here for your father's approval. I'm here for you.”

The weight of those words sank in. Chad was surrounded by real-­life heroes—­shit, he was the only man at their table who could walk on his own two feet—­and determined to be hers. He wanted to see Lena through tonight. And he'd do whatever it took to bring her home with the medal she deserved.

Looking around the table, he'd never felt less qualified for the part. He'd never put his life on the line for his country. But he'd stuck by his family. He'd been there for his brothers and sisters. Hell, half the time Katie hadn't wanted him butting his nose into her business, but that hadn't stopped him from trying to look out for her.

He'd stand by Lena tonight. He might not be her hero, or even her boyfriend, but their friendship? That was real.

Lena made the introductions, not once touching or hugging her parents or brother. Watching the scene unfold, Chad had a bad feeling charm would not be on his side tonight.

“We're happy to meet Lena's new friends.” Lena's mother, Alice, spoke with a thick Texas accent, a soft smile on her lips as she glanced at her daughter.

“Chad.” Mr. Rodriguez said his name as if it was somehow lacking. “How did you meet Lena?”

Chad smiled, biting back the words,
My family stepped in to help your daughter after you gave up on her.
Picking a fight before the egg rolls arrived wouldn't help Lena. She was already a ball of trembling nerves. One glance at her lap and he saw Hero now had his head and one paw resting against her leg.

“I was worried when she moved away from her life in Portland,” Mrs. Rodriguez added.

Maybe they'd tried. But it wasn't enough. When it came to family, you didn't give up and you didn't walk away. Family was the glue that held life together when everything else fell apart, not the ones standing on the sidelines playing the part of spectators.

“Lena moved into the apartment over our barn,” he said. “Once I saw how good she is with a gun, well, I decided I wanted to get to know her better. So I asked her out, and lucky for me, she said yes.”

“You're dating?” Lena's mother said, her smile widening.

“I'm a sucker for a beautiful woman,” he said. “And now I see beauty runs in the family.”

Charm might not work on her father, but Lena's mother flushed at the compliment.

The waiter interrupted, depositing two trays of mixed appetizers. Another followed with Lena's wine. Chad saw her father's brow furrow when the glass was placed in front of his little girl.

“I went ahead and ordered a few things to start,” Chad said. “One plate is vegetarian.”

“We love our meat down in Texas. But thanks, man, I can't wait to dig in. It was a long trip to get here. Three flights,” Joe said, his voice light and friendly. But Chad could feel Lena's brother studying him closely.

“Lena,” Mr. Rodriguez said as his wife filled his plate. “Have you given more thought to going back to the army? With a Silver Star—­”

“No, Daddy, I'm not going back.” Lena reached for her wine. “I found a position in Independence Falls.”

“Doing what?” her father demanded.

Lena explained the details of her job as if she were reading the listing from the classified ads. She left out the battle she'd fought and won to secure the position.

“Security?” Mr. Rodriguez tossed the second half of his egg roll onto his plate as if the mention of her job stole away his appetite. “Lena, you went to West Point.”

“I know.” Lena raised her wine to her lips and took a long drink. “I pointed that out during the interview.”

Mr. Rodriguez shook his head. “You were an officer in the United States Army.”

“Yes, I was,” she said. And this time, her voice trembled.

Chad stared across the table at the man who dared to dismiss Lena's accomplishments. How could anyone look at the woman sitting beside him and see failure? He reached for her, knowing she need support, not a friend who challenged her father. But Hero beat him to the punch, choosing that moment to climb into Lena's lap as if he were a Chihuahua. The golden retriever rested one paw on her shoulder and his head on the other side, as Chad held tight to the table's edge to keep it from tipping.

“Is that your new dog?” her mother asked.

Lena wrapped her arms around the retriever, clinging to him. “Yes.”

Her father opened his mouth as if ready to offer his two cents on the subject when the waiter appeared.

“We're ready to order the main course,” Chad said quickly. “Joe, are you still hungry?”

“You bet,” Lena's brother said.

They went around the table placing orders. With her family's attention diverted to the mundane, Chad felt Lena relax. Hero abandoned his post at her shoulder. The big dog settled on her lap, determined to play the part of an animal a quarter his size to keep Lena calm. From what he'd witnessed of Lena's family so far, Hero's training would be put to the test tonight. No wonder she'd spent the past ­couple of days tied in knots over seeing her father. Warm and welcoming wasn't in the man's vocabulary.

Chad watched Lena as she spoke to the waiter. Maybe she had come to Independence Falls looking for greener grass. After seeing where she'd come from, hell, he couldn't hold that against her.

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armed insurgents determined to harm or capture her and her fellow soldiers. In Afghanistan, she'd fought to save the lives of the men and women fighting at her side, and defend her own. But sitting here, trembling with a dog in her lap, it was as if her bravery, her fearless ability to fight, her resilience, all existed in another world.

She glanced over at her father, his gaze fixed on the menu. He was so close. She could reach out and touch him. But first she'd have to break through the wall between them.

It felt as if her father had arrived at the Red Dragon with her brother, her mother, and his expectations. When he'd challenged her about her security job, she'd been tempted to ask if they should pull up a chair so his disappointment could have a place at the table.

But she knew better than to play the can't-­you-­see-­I'm-­suffering card with her father. Serving his country had left her dad confined to a wheelchair, and it had robbed his only son of a leg, yet she knew he'd do it all over again. For as long as she could remember, his willingness to sacrifice for their country had been a thing of awe and wonder. And she'd followed in his footsteps, ready and willing to serve.

Some days it was hard to admit that she had nothing left to give. To acknowledge to the brave men at this table that something as abstract as PTSD held her back when they had given physical parts of themselves to the fight. And it was just as difficult for her father to accept that fact.

“Did Joe tell you he competed in the Warrior Games?” her mom asked, the familiar sound of her Texas drawl reminiscent of the best parts of Lena's childhood.

Lena's eyes widened as she glanced at Joe. “No. You never mentioned a word.”

Her big brother smiled. “I figured you had your hands full.”

With her life falling apart?

“You should have called,” she said. “Which sport?”

“He came in fourth in the shooting event.” Her mom patted Joe's shoulder. “And he was second during the trials at West Point.”

She remembered her mother mentioning a trip to West Point during one of their weekly calls back when she was living in Portland. But she'd been trying to adjust to having Hero in her life, and struggling to fix her crumbling marriage.

“It was fun,” Joe said. “Good to be part of a team again. Next year, I'm going to enter the track and field events. I just got a new prosthetic designed for running. My times are even better than with my real leg.”

“What doesn't kill you makes you stronger,” Mr. Rodriguez announced to the table.

“I don't know about that, Daddy,” she said softly, her smile vanishing. “I haven't felt strong in a long time.”

Saying those words out loud,
to her father
, Lena felt as if the determination that she wore like body armor had been stripped away.

“I know, Lena, but you will be,” her daddy said, his voice resolute as if she could erase her fears though sheer willpower. If only it worked that way. If she could wake up one day and push the fear, the hypervigilance, and the depression away, burying it in a game of mind over matter, she would.

“Tomorrow you're going to receive the army's third highest honor,” her father continued. “And then maybe you'll consider going back. The army has resources for soldiers suffering from a little anxiety.”

“Daddy, I didn't leave my house for three months. I pushed my husband away, my friends, everyone. I need a dog at my side to get through the day,” she said, her voice rising with every word. “Tomorrow, I might run the other way when I see the stage and the crowd of ­people. I don't have a
little anxiety.
I'm buried in it. It's been suffocating me for months.

“Now that I'm finally on my way to a semi-­normal life, a fresh start, no, I don't want to go back.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I can't do it, Daddy. I'm sorry. I'm still alive, but I'm not strong. Not anymore.”

The table fell silent, the three members of her family staring back at her. Her fingers brushed Chad's thigh as he raised his hand, signaling the waiter.

“Can we take ours to go?” Chad asked when the server appeared at his side.

“You're leaving?” her mom said, her tear-­filled eyes wide with surprise.

“I just remembered a call I need to make,” Chad said. “Business stuff.”

“What line of work are you in?” her father demanded, his eyes narrowing on Chad before glancing at her. She debated running to the truck now that she'd delivered the speech that had been building inside her for the past year.

“Helicopter logging,” Chad said with a smile, as if this was a logical reason for an abrupt departure. Under the table, he took her hand and squeezed.

“I'm just starting out really,” Chad continued. “Before that my siblings and I ran the trucking company founded by my grandfather. We hauled timber mostly.”

Chad kept talking, filling the void as they waited for their to-­go bag. But Lena tuned him out, her father's words echoing in her head.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

But what if tomorrow, on that stage, she turned into a puddle of weakness? What if it pushed her close to the point that she wished she'd given her life when she was at her strongest? What if even for the brief time it took to receive the award, she thought about giving up on herself?

Lena stared at the seventy-­pound dog anchoring her to the chair when she wanted to run as fast as she could away from this restaurant, her family, and these feelings. If she gave up, there would be no one left holding on to the belief that one day she could reach out and touch normal again.

“Lena, are you ready?” Chad asked.

No one except him.

Chad pushed back from the table, a take-­out bag in one hand. “I really do need to make that call.”

“Yes.” She nudged Hero and he hopped off her lap. Taking Chad's free hand, she stood, allowing him to lead her toward the door. But with each step the isolation mounted.

She couldn't count on the pretend boyfriend holding her hand. Their relationship was for show. She needed to rebuild her life on something solid. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched her family clustered together—­three ­people at a table set for five. Maybe once upon a time, they had been her foundation. But now they wanted strength from her, not weakness. And she couldn't deliver.

Lena stepped out into the cool fall night. Darkness had descended on the sleepy little Oregon town near the army base. Chad beat her to the truck, opening the passenger side door for her.

“So what do you think,” he said. “Did I make a good first impression?”

His teasing words were like a crutch, there to prop her up when her world started to crumble.

“You were memorable,” she admitted, climbing up beside Hero. Chad walked around the front, settled into the driver's seat, and turned on the truck.

“I think your brother liked me,” he said, steering onto the road.

“Joe is a friendly guy.” She stared out the window as they turned onto the dark, country road. They'd driven past the motel on their way to the Red Dragon. Home for the night was a matter of retracing their steps for ten minutes. “He was like that before he deployed.”

“Did he have a hard time after he lost his leg?”

“I don't know,” she admitted. “He was in the hospital for a while, first in Germany and then at Walter Reed. My mother flew over when they weren't sure if he would make it.”

“Did she fly out to see you when you came back?”

She shook her head. “I wasn't injured. And I went to Texas a ­couple of weeks after my last tour ended. It's hard for them to travel. I had my first nightmare down there. My mom came into my room that night and held me.”

Staring out into the night, she could still remember the feeling of her mother's arms around her, rocking her. She tried to push her away, but her mother had held on tight, softly signing the songs from her childhood.