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“My responsibility. My failure. Only two military chaplains killed in battle in the last fifty years, and one of them was mine.”
“The army doesn’t blame you, and the good Lord has forgiven you, so you must like carrying that weight on your back, or you’d let it go.” Dad stood. “Same way you keep blaming yourself for Sylvia walking out. Her fault. Not yours.”
Bret set his jaw. His father had no idea the depth of his guilt where his marriage was concerned. He should have seen how unhappy Sylvia was. He should have known that he wasn’t pulling his weight.
“Find someone to talk to, son, before this thing eats you alive.”
Nina Johnson’s face came to mind. Bret had a feeling she would understand. He had no idea what her issue was, but the chain-mail coat she wore around her heart was familiar. If it weren’t for his girls, he’d be wearing one as thick and impenetrable as hers. He doubted being so withdrawn was good for a psychologist. She should understand things better than most. Unless she’d been hurt deeper than most. Maybe therapists, like medical doctors, made the worst patients. Too close to the trees to see the forest they were lost in.
He hated the thought of the lovely Nina lost and alone. It was a hard way to live. And for some reason, it was important to him for her to be happy.
* * *
It was Friday. Nina ran a hand through her hair and let her gaze travel around Kitty’s office. Maybe she should have stayed home today. There were no patients scheduled. Dottie wouldn’t be here. Nina could have stayed at the hotel, buried her head beneath the pillow and waited for tomorrow to come. But she’d learned from painful experience that trying to ignore this day only made it longer. It was best to keep busy. She still had dozens of case histories to read over, and after the widows’ meeting, she wanted to learn more about each of her ladies.
They were all so strong and confident. She envied their ability to walk through their grief and come out in the later years feeling whole and filled with hope and a sense of purpose. Things she would never experience. But they had fired her curiosity, and some of the things they’d said had forced her to think about her own situation. Which was why she wanted to be better prepared next week. She had to be able to control the discussion and steer it away from herself.
An email popped up on her cell screen, illuminating the time and date. Tears pierced the backs of her eyes. She forced them away. She had to get through today in one piece, and the only way to do that was to work. Hard.
Bret had tried to question her about her withdrawn mood on the way to work, but she’d brushed it off as fatigue from the stressful first week on the job. Thankfully, he remained silent during the rest of the ride. Once there, she’d hurried to the office and pulled an emotional blanket around herself.
Five years ago, this day, she’d lost the most precious thing in her life. Her daughter, Molly. Surviving this day was the hardest thing she faced each year.
The stack of patient files kept her busy through to midafternoon. A box lunch from the hotel had helped her avoid going out to eat. Bret must have had a busy day since he hadn’t popped in to check on her. Either that or her cold-shoulder attitude this morning had scared him off. Strangely enough, she was getting used to him watching out for her. It had been a long time since anyone had cared about how she was doing.
She glanced at the clock. In a couple of hours, she could go home, hide under the covers and watch some mindless pay-per-view movie, and when she woke up tomorrow, she could put it all behind her for another year.
“Nina.”
She looked up as Bret came through her office door. Her heart lurched when two little girls scurried in behind him.
“I have some people I’d like you to meet.”
Caught off guard, she could only stare. No, please, not now. She wasn’t strong enough to face children today. Tomorrow.
From somewhere far off, she heard his voice as he introduced his children. He touched the top of each little head lovingly as he spoke.
“This is Olivia—she’s eight—and this one is Georgiana. She’s five.”
She recalled Bret mentioning he had two daughters, but she’d ignored it. She didn’t want to know about Bret’s personal life. The less she knew, the less involved she’d become.
The sight of the older girl plunged a hot knife into her throat. She was the same age as Molly when... The memories she kept locked away came clawing back, and she was powerless to stop them. She gritted her teeth and tried to look pleasant.
The girls said hello, and Georgie waved, a big smile on her sweet little face. “Hello.” She wasn’t sure she actually made an audible sound, because blood surged loudly in her ears, and her heart thundered so hard her chest hurt. She thought Bret said something about the girls wanting to meet her, but she wasn’t sure about that.
“Can we color?” The little one bounced on her toes.
“Miss Kitty keeps books and colors for the children, and sometimes she colors with us. Do you like to color?”
Olivia’s question stole her breath. Molly loved to color. She looked at Bret and saw his expression fade from proud parent to friendly smile to deep concern. She should say something. Explain, but her heart was being shredded. The two little girls with their pigtails and sweet smiles were yanking the thick cover from her deeply buried memories. Memories that would consume her if she let them loose.
“Girls, why don’t you go back to my office and tell Miss Jackie that I said you can have some cookies. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“But we just met the pretty lady.”
“Go on. Grandpa will be here soon to pick you up.”
Nina managed to say goodbye in a calm voice, but the minute the girls were gone, she turned her back and wrapped her arms around her waist.
“Are you all right? I didn’t mean to barge in. I get carried away with my girls. I think everyone should find them as adorable as I do. I never considered that you might not like children.”
His words sliced through her emotional fog. “I like children.”
“Really? Most people smile when they see little kids. You gritted your teeth and went pale as a ghost.”
Her conscience pressed like an anvil upon her spirit. She couldn’t keep living like this. “I was surprised. That’s all. I wasn’t expecting to see them today.” Tears filled her eyes. She snatched a tissue from the box on her desk, willing herself to stop. Crying would only bring about more questions, and she wasn’t in any condition to answer them.
“Nina. What’s going on? Is there anything I can do?”
“No. I’m fine. Just go back to work.” The sob escaped her throat before she could stop it.
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