“From his resting position, Sergeant Briggs went up and over. The explosion shifted the dash in and pinned Corporal Mullins.”

Mullins. I exhale slowly.

“Mullins was unconscious, and I was unable to gauge her condition because she was slumped over the dash.” My chin wobbles and I take another breath. Saying her name in past tense makes her loss real.

“Take your time,” he says, leaning forward.

“Jones was unresponsive to me, but I was able to check his vitals. His heart rate was faint.”

He nods for me to continue, as I do my best to convey my truth.

“It was after I checked Jones that I realized I was pinned by Sergeant Briggs’s seat. I managed to squeeze out.”

“And once you were outside of the vehicle?”

“I’m not sure what my train of thought was, I ran on instinct.”

“Which was?”

“To get them out.”

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“How long did you wait?”

“I didn’t. I started with the closest to me.”

“Sergeant Briggs?”

“Yes, sir. I used the bulk of his weight to assist in the fall to get him to the ground and then dragged him about three meters away. I stripped him down to assess his injuries, checked his vitals, and made sure his airways were clear before I went for Mullins on the other side of the truck.” I take a sip of water, my teeth hitting the glass.

“How long did that take?”

“I’m not sure,” I say. “A minute, maybe longer.” My fingers shake as I recall the panic I felt in that moment.

“Take your time,” he offers.

“Corporal Mullins was pinned beneath the dash, and the flames were starting to spread, so I knew I was out of time. She was wedged, and I couldn’t get her to budge, so I forced my hand through the gap and found her boot was caught. I was able to free her, but I broke my hand in the process. It took me a lot longer to get her away from the Humvee.” I’m visibly shaking at the memory as the older man furrows his brows, his concern clear.

“Do you want to recess? A break?”

“No, sir.” Because I know what’s coming, and I’m not even close to the hard part.

“Seconds after I got her at a safe distance—”

“Corporal Mullins,” he reminds me to be specific. And I will be because I’ll never want to relive it again.

“Yes, sir.”

“Please continue.”

“It wasn’t long after I dragged Corporal Mullins away that the Humvee caught fire. I couldn’t get to Jones in time.”

This time I let my emotions get the best of me as he addresses me head on.

“Staff Sergeant Scott, what you managed to accomplish under the circumstances is both heroic and commendable. I have zero doubts you did everything you could. You saved two soldiers that day.”

“No sir, I didn’t.”

“I wasn’t referring to Corporal Mullins,” he says pointedly.

“I couldn’t get to him,” I say with apology as I face Chris with the truth. “I was too weak, too slow, too late. I’m so sorry.”

“Shhhh,” he whispers softly. “My God, Scottie. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because anyone else would have done the same thing.”

“That’s not entirely true,” he argues.

“Any soldier would.”

“You’re damn right,” he says, proudly looking at me like I hung the moon.

“Stop it,” I say, wiping my nose. “How did you figure it out?” I ask, entranced with the look in his eyes.

“One of my guys posed the question right before we got to the market. It didn’t click until I was almost lights-out.”

My face crumbles as he presses a gentle kiss to my lips, and I hold them with my own. He pulls away, whispering kisses all over my face. “No wonder you were so pissed off at the ranch.” He kisses me again and again as I sink into his warmth. He pulls away, and our eyes lock.

It’s there between us, and always will be. We’re in our place, and we’re safe, together.

“All this time,” he says, as he strokes my face gently, “you gave me the credit for being your lifeline, your hero, when you’re mine. You’re the one who saved me. I owe you, Scottie.”

“Well I’m cashing in, because I’m yours, Briggs,” I say without hesitation. “The life I want is with you. I come with a shitload of baggage, and the most amazing—and mouthiest—seven-year-old in the state of Texas. So, I hope you know what you’re getting into.”

His eyes shimmer as all the breath leaves him. “You’re sure?”

“This is my confession. I went to war loving one man and came back in love with another. I can’t apologize for it anymore or make excuses, blame the circumstances. I fell in love with you. The guilt behind that is a different story. I may never forgive myself, but I want to eventually. I don’t want to spend another second of my life making plans without you. So, if I’m not too late, I’m in need of a cowboy.”

“Retired military?”

“Yes, fucking please.”

We share a tear-filled smile before he places a soft kiss to my lips and presses his forehead to mine.

“On one condition.”

“Okay,” I agree, as we clutch each other with relief.

“Tell me a joke, and make it a dirty one, Scottie.”

Epilogue

Katy

8 MONTHS LATER

None of it was easy. None of it. Not a minute of Briggs’s recovery. Not the trip home, where we had to separate once again for the sake of what remained of my family. Nor the day Gavin and I put our home up for sale or signed those divorce papers.

No part of the time after we left Germany, united in heart but torn apart by circumstance, was made easier by the dissolution of my marriage to a man who loved me so selflessly, that he let me go to be with another.

I’m still in therapy.

I still wake up with nightmares. Still at times a prisoner in my own mind.

I still fight the void that threatens to consume me when I feel helpless against my weaknesses.

But there’s one thing that I’m capable of without effort, and that’s my ability to love. And in love, there is so much healing.

Muscular arms circle my body as warm lips press against my neck, sending a chill up my spine and goosebumps across my flesh.

“Ready?”

“Think so,” I say, standing at the edge of the door, staring at the expansive sand.

I look over at him with clear apprehension. “Did you get—”

“Got it,” he says, cutting me off as he takes my hand in his.

“You didn’t even let me ask, Briggs.”

“We’re good. I promise. Tell me what you’re afraid of?”

“I don’t know,” I say timidly. “I’m just scared.”

“Well,” he says, looking at me and trying not to smile, “judging by the weight of that bag on your shoulder, we’re missing nothing.”

“Save that smirk,” I snap, “or I’ll bite those lips off.”

He leans in with a whisper. “You keep that up, it’s going to be hard to hide this hard-on.”

“Damn you,” I snip, letting out a nervous laugh.

“I love you,” he whispers softly. “It’s us; we’re like the Titanic.”

I wrinkle my nose. “The Titanic sunk.”

“But it’s still there, even if it’s not visible. That’s us, isn’t it? We’ve weathered everything. I think we can handle this.”

“I’m going to need a different and much better analogy, Briggs.”

“Okay we’re like a set of horse balls,” he says with a chuckle.

“Forget it,” I say. “I’m seriously panicking, and you’re making jokes.”

“That’s why you love me,” he coos before turning my chin with his finger.

“One of the reasons, yes.”

“I’ll give you at least four more tonight,” he whispers as he leans in. “Five, if you play your cards right.”




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