A Soldier's Honour. Regan Black

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      It took some time for the call to reach Matt, but when he picked up the call, she wasted no time. “Dinner’s off.”

      “Bethany?”

      “Yes. It’s me.” Her heart was pounding and everything in her was urging her to leap into action, to chase down her son. “I’m sorry to be so abrupt. I think Caleb is on his way to see you.”

      “What? Did you tell him already?”

      “No.” They’d come up with a plan, and she intended to honor it. “He’s skipped school, Matt. First time ever.” She forced herself to slow down and relay the facts. “I’m looking at his bank account. He purchased a train ticket to DC two days ago. He’s not answering my calls or texts. The app I have is showing that he’s close to Philly.”

      “You have a tracking app on his phone?”

      The censure only sparked another flash of temper. “Pardon me,” she snapped. “How many busy and bright teenagers have you raised?”

      “None,” he admitted. “Though I recall volunteering for the task plenty of times.”

      She took a deep breath. “That was rude. Sorry,” she repeated, this time meaning it. “I’m just worried.”

      “And mad.”

      Was that anger in his voice, as well? “Yes, and mad,” she admitted.

      “You think he skipped school and put himself on a train to Washington in order to find or meet me.”

      “That’s as much logic as I can make of his actions,” she said. “He’s not skipping with any of his friends.”

      “All right. If he’s in Philly now, it won’t be long before he reaches Union Station. I’ll get down there and find him.”

      “Thank you.” Relief coursed through her at his confidence.

      “I’ll have him call right away. I’ll bring him back home, and we can all have dinner as planned.”

      “Oh.” She couldn’t come up with a reason why they shouldn’t go ahead with dinner. “You don’t have to do that.” Caleb had purchased a round-trip ticket.

      “Would you rather come to DC and have dinner at my place?” he queried.

      “No.” She heard the reply came out more like a question.

      “Well, I’m not dumping him back on the train.”

      “Matt, you really don’t have to—”

      “Bethany, I was planning to drive up anyway. This is exactly what I want to do. Caleb and I will be there by seven.”

      “Okay.” What option did she have? She couldn’t get to DC ahead of Caleb. Rushing after him, having this conversation on Matt’s turf, wasn’t her idea of a good time, either. “Let me know when he arrives, okay?”

      “I promise.”

      “One more thing.” She closed her eyes against a sudden rush of tears. “Let him know he’s grounded.”

      Matt tried to disguise his bark of laughter as a cough. She wasn’t fooled. “That’s not funny.”

      “It is,” he said. “My first parenting milestone is discipline.”

      His humor in the situation lifted the burden, eased the sadness a little. “I wanted us to tell him together.”

      “I know. I’ll do what I can to save the hard questions for you.”

      “Again, not funny.” So why did she want to laugh? She plucked up a pen and started doodling on her pad of sticky notes.

      “Any idea how he found me?” Matt asked. “Or why he came looking today of all days?”

      “None. Hopefully he’ll confide in you.” It seemed an odd thing to sincerely wish for under the circumstances. Clearly they’d entered new and uncharted territory. “I’ll text you his cell number. Thanks for your help,” she said. “I know this is an inconvenience.”

      “Don’t say that.”

      His voice, low and kind, rumbled across her senses. She blamed the resulting shiver on stress. “I need to notify the school that we think we’ve found him. I don’t want them to worry any more than I have been.”

      “All right.”

      And yet, long minutes after the call ended, she still sat there, paralyzed by fear of how the evening would go and how her relationship with Caleb would change. She was his mother, not his friend, but they’d been an unbreakable team since day one. Honest with each other, candid and clear, she’d made every effort to give him a stable life, while assuring him that his father was a good man, doing good work in the Army.

      On top of that nonnegotiable stability, she’d given Caleb roots and tradition with her side of the family, let him know he was loved and valued. She’d created opportunities to explore various interests, while fostering an appreciation for history that matched hers and Matt’s.

      That had been her one calculated effort once she’d accepted that this day would come whether she wanted it to or not. Matt had respected every limit she’d set in her quest to raise Caleb alone. The two of them deserved to have some common ground from the first introduction.

      Strange that until now, when she could only guess at Caleb’s reactions, her choices had never felt quite so selfish or self-serving. She’d been so confident that giving Matt room to have a Military career unencumbered by a whoops baby was the right thing for everyone.

      Now she felt as if she’d done them all a grave disservice.

      Matt gathered his thoughts before striding to the general’s office. He supposed this conversation would be good practice for telling his parents about Caleb. It was rather surreal that he’d be having that conversation tonight.

      He knocked lightly on the open door. “Do you have a minute, sir?”

      “Come in,” Knudson said. His normally jovial smile was slower to show up today. “Have you heard something from the police?”

      “No, sir. This is a different matter. Personal.” He closed the door and came forward to stand next to the guest chairs.

      “And serious,” Knudson observed. “Have a seat.”

      “Thank you.” Better to just get it out there as efficiently as possible. “I have a son.” Wow. He was finally getting to share this with someone. A surge of pride shot through him as the general’s eyebrows lifted. “He’s fourteen, almost fifteen,” Matt added, thinking aloud. “His mother has been raising him alone. She insisted on complete privacy on the issue, although I’ve contributed financial child support since the start.”

      “Well, that’s the responsible move, son.”

      “Thank you, sir.”

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