A Soldier's Honour. Regan Black

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      This had to come out, and better if they got ahead of it. First they needed to give Caleb the full, big picture of his family tree. He pressed his hands to his eyes as the first step kept shifting on him. Figuring this out was like walking across loose sand. One footprint changed both the previous and subsequent steps. Regardless, Caleb came first. After that, he and Bethany could figure out how he and his parents could be woven into Caleb’s life.

      He rolled his shoulders, trying to sort out what was relief and what was more stress. Countless times through the years, Matt had been tempted to unload this burden on one of his siblings or a good friend. Somehow he’d always managed to keep his mouth shut. According to Bethany’s updates, Caleb was pretty awesome and growing more so every year. The way things stood, Matt couldn’t share school pictures or sports heroics with anyone other than the JAG office.

      No, his family and friends wouldn’t be happy he’d lied by omission, but they would come around. “They will come around.” Matt stated the affirmation to the empty condo.

      He had his phone in hand and had started to dial before he remembered what time it was and dropped it back on the nightstand. Bethany had been a night owl once. Most likely a career and a kid had revised those habits. He missed that quirk and so much more. The bone-deep longing for her and his son seemed to be the one wound time couldn’t heal.

      He stripped off his jeans and socks and tossed them into the hamper and crawled into bed. As he set his alarm for the morning, his cell phone vibrated and rang with an incoming call. Matt gawked at Bethany’s smiling face filling the display. He’d pulled the picture from a post on social media. Maybe she was still a night owl after all. “Hello?”

      “We have a problem.” The abrupt statement aside, Bethany’s voice was like silk brushing over his skin. He wanted to wallow in it.

      “Yeah, the security breach is inconvenient,” he began, pulling himself together. “But it’s not the end of the world. The odds are a million-to-one they’ll connect the two of us. We have some time to develop a strategy.”

      “It’s already happened,” she said, her voice flat.

      “What?” He couldn’t have heard her correctly. “What do you mean?”

      “I received a creepy, handwritten threat today on official letterhead.”

      Those two things didn’t mesh. “I’m not following,” Matt said.

      Her soft sigh came over the phone, reminding him of the stolen moments they’d shared when they were younger. Moments that eventually became a wedge between them when she wound up pregnant.

      How many times had he dreamed about convincing her to marry him? He hadn’t expected it to be a smooth road, but he’d been willing to navigate every pothole and speed bump with her. With her soft breath in his ear, he could imagine them in this bed right now, together, doing something far more fun than talking about a security breach.

      “Matt? Are you there?”

      “Yeah.” He sat up and pinched the bridge of his nose. Focus on the reality. “What kind of creepy threat?”

      “Instead of the letter I expected about the security breach, this is handwritten. Two lines. The gist is someone has done the math and decided I’m banking more than I make. The threat is that my secret will become common knowledge.”

      “On the agency letterhead?” That was as strange as sending a threat via baseball. “Weird.”

      “Yes,” she agreed.

      He could tell she expected him to say something more profound. “Legally, you’re good.”

      “I know that,” she said. “I’m not worried about the job or the clearance—I’m worried about Caleb.” She paused and he could so easily picture her teeth nipping into her full bottom lip. “I’m worried about your mom.”

      “That makes two of us,” he admitted.

      “You’ve never told her?” Bethany asked.

      Was she joking? “If I had, you would’ve known.”

      “True enough,” she said.

      His parents had a reputation for their unflagging emphasis on maintaining family and balance within the Military framework. “I got my breach letter today, too. Mine was standard issue,” he added. “I figured I’d make time to speak to my parents tomorrow. After I spoke with you. I didn’t feel right saying anything until we talked.”

      “Thanks.”

      “I would’ve called sooner, except I just got home about an hour ago and thought you’d be happier if I called in the morning.”

      “Oh.” The single syllable stretched out. “I couldn’t sleep and just wanted to make a plan,” she said briskly. “I’d like to tell Caleb before you tell anyone else.”

      Was she asking for his permission or advice on breaking this news to their son? “Of course. How is he doing?” The last real-time conversation they’d had about Caleb was over three years ago, when he’d broken his wrist during a soccer game. Otherwise, she kept things vague, only sending Matt his school picture and occasional noteworthy updates about his grades or sporting successes.

      Those small glimpses of Caleb had never been enough for him, yet he respected her wishes, her rules, because she’d given up everything to protect his place at West Point and, subsequently, his Army career. Time and again, he capitulated to the limits she set, because anything else made him feel grasping and whiny.

      “He’s great,” she was saying. “I just don’t want him hearing this from anyone else. I’m not entirely sure how he’ll react,” she added.

      “Has something changed?” The worry in her words felt like a knife twisting in his gut. This was only the second time he’d heard anything less than full confidence out of her. The first was when she’d been debating how best to be a mom and fulfill her career goals. “What’s going on with him?”

      “Nothing,” she said a little too quickly. “Nothing’s changed. It’s still soccer and school, school and soccer. He’s a teenager, that’s all.”

      Matt opened his mouth to push her, to make demands, but bit back the hard words. Instead he changed the subject. “Is he driving yet?” The query was a transparent attempt to learn if there was anything of him in his son.

      “He’s studying for his learner’s permit. We’ll take care of that next week, while he’s on fall break.”

      Matt remembered how excited he’d been for that same day as a kid. “Has he had any experience behind the wheel?” he asked, wondering if Caleb would have any interest or appreciation for the restored Camaro. Assuming they met.

      “My dad has let him drive the four-wheeler on camping trips, and he’s let him drive the tractor on their property. I’m told he’s still pretty rough on the manual transmission, but he’s improving.”

      “That’s good. It takes time,” he said. “You have enough set aside to buy him a car? I can send more money—”

      “When that time comes, we’ll СКАЧАТЬ