“I had no excuse to say that to you.”
“But you do. Now, take a bite and savor it. I haven’t had homemade bread in months.” He removed his hand from beneath hers but instead of raising the sandwich to his own mouth, he extended it across the table.
Too confused to decline, Naomi took it from his fingers and then bit into it. The chicken tasted of hints of rosemary, and the bread was soft and yeasty. Ester had just removed the bread from the oven before Naomi put the sandwiches together. The combination of savory meat and spices was good. It was delicious, even. Before she could swallow, the major was pouring out a second glass of lemonade and sliding it toward her other hand.
As she took a sip, the little miracle inside of her chose that moment to kick.
The food ought to have gone down like sawdust—everything else had in recent days. But it was good. “Thank you,” she said.
Before she could give him back his sandwich, he’d already claimed a second one off the tray to replace it. So Naomi kept the food.
“You know, I was curious, Major—how did you manage to get the wood here so quickly?” If possible, she wanted to prove to herself, and maybe to him as well, that she could continue on like a normal person. She could make normal conversation without falling apart. She hated that she’d been so out of control—taken over by her emotions.
“I purchased it yesterday. After seeing that porch, I knew it was just a matter of time before someone broke an ankle.”
Naomi nibbled at the sandwich and watched as he made quick work of his own. She wanted to apologize again for insulting him but kept remembering how unhelpful she’d found his apologies that first day. He’d told her that he was sorry over and over again, but it had meant nothing to her, less than nothing.
It didn’t make sense.
“You said you wanted to stay in the area for a while. When will you return to the conflict?”
“I’ve been allotted a month before I’m due to travel south again. I have two sisters who will skin me alive if I don’t visit while I’m on leave, though. And of course, my brother will want to see me.”
And at that moment, he was suddenly no longer the random soldier whose sole purpose in life had been to destroy hers.
“How old are your sisters?”
“They are recently turned seven and ten. Twins.”
Naomi shook her head. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to carry and then deliver two babies. “Do they look the same?”
“Identical. Before I joined up, I was able to differentiate between them for the most part. Since I no longer live at Crescent Park, it has been more difficult each time I come home.” He took another bite and shrugged. “Before this past spring, I was away for three years. They’ve turned into young women while I was away.”
She’d realized military life would be difficult for any man with a family. Whenever she’d discussed Arthur selling his commission, he’d changed the subject. He’d promised he would sell out eventually. And he would have.
Of course, he would have…
“When Arthur left—while he was gone, the worrying, it was worse than I had imagined it would be,” she said. Imagining that he was in danger… wondering if he was ever coming home. And now…
There it was again. That giant weight on her chest—that strangling feeling.
That wondering if she was going to be able to go on.
“This will pass.” His voice penetrated the swell of despair. “It’ll never go away completely, but the terror, the explosion of pain, it will subside into feelings that you can eventually live with.” And then the cold glass she’d been drinking from was pressed into her hand. “Drink up.”
She did as he said.
“Now breathe. In and out. Tell me to go to hell if you think that will help.”
She couldn’t stop the ironic chuckle that he had come so close to reading her mind.
“He left in August. We’ve been apart for almost three months now,” she managed. “And although I know he isn’t coming back, there is a part of me that still believes he will return.”
Major Cockfield nodded in agreement. “It’s not so simple a thing as people would like to believe. Don’t expect to know how to handle everything right away. Focus on caring for yourself. And your baby. And in the meanwhile—” He slid his chair back, reached for the last of his lemonade, downed it, and then pushed the chair back in. “—I’m going to see what progress I can make on that porch before I lose the sunlight.”
Before he could disappear outside again, Naomi remembered her manners. “Thank you, Major.”
He turned and stared at her thoughtfully. “No need to thank me. This is what friends do.”
