holding tight as they walked.
âThat was either the worst sermon to hear, or the best,â he said as they came to a fishing dock. He led her onto the floating deck that rocked gently with waves caused by a ski boat.
âBoth?â she offered as they sat on a bench.
âYeah, both.â He let out a sigh as his chest let go of the pressure that had been building over the past hour. âI canât forget their faces.â
âIâm sorry.â She didnât say more. He didnât want more. He didnât need to hear that someday he would forget, or that it would get easier. Maybe he didnât want either of those things to happen. Those soldiers who died didnât need to be forgotten. His life shouldnât get easier.
The woman sitting next to him gave a quiet, calm assurance with her very presence. He hadnât had a lot of calm in his life the past few years. Heâd been happy. Heâd kept busy. But calm? Not so much. He hadnât thought too much about it until lately, when she was at his side.
âI donât want to think about how God was okay with all those men dying,â he admitted.
âI know. I donât blame you.â
âWould you stop being so easy to get along with?â He lifted her hand to his lips and held it there as he closed his eyes, thinking about how guilty he felt when he slept through the night without nightmares.
âOne of us has to be easy to get along with,â she said.
âRight.â
He pulled her close to his side and held her, just held her.
âI donât think God was okay with those guys dying,â she whispered against his shoulder. âI think He isnât okay with the pain it causes you. But I also think that those men were blessed to have you there with them.â
The words poured over him like a balm, simple truths that were exactly what heâd needed someone to say. He held her a little tighter and realized he could get used to having this woman in his life.
It was something heâd never imagined, a woman in his life, a child that looked like him.
They were dangerous thoughts.
Chapter Seven
T hey sat together for a while on the dock, until a family spilled out of a van and headed down the ramp with coolers and fishing poles.
âJake decided to take over cooking duty today,â Duke said as he stood, reaching for her hand. âBurgers on the grill. If we go back now, weâll be in time for lunch and miss out on the work.â
âSounds like a plan.â Oregon tossed him his keys. âI canât take you white-knuckling the door handle all the way home, so youâd better drive.â
âYou saw that?â He grinned, and she felt her heart shudder, half apprehension and half something else she didnât want to acknowledge.
âI saw it.â She let him open the passenger door for her. âI didnât do that bad.â
âYeah, you did.â
As he drove she pretended it was just another Sunday, and that they werenât heading for danger. After all, he was just supposed to be Lillyâs safety net. He wasnât meant to be Oregonâs. She definitely wasnât meant to be his. But sheâd crossed a line, following him out of the church.
She just hadnât been able to let him leave alone. Not with that tortured look in his eyes.
âI wasnât going to fall apart,â he said as they got close to the Circle M.
She glanced his way, surprised by the abrupt comment and the defensive tone.
âI know you werenât.â
He didnât look at her, continuing to watch the road, his jaw tightening a little. Unsure wasnât something Duke Martin was used to feeling. He probably faced every situation with a certain amount of courage and certainty because of his size and his overwhelming confidence. Sometimes known as ego. She laughed to herself at the thought.
âI heard that.â
She stared at the