Page 57 of D-Day

Zorro was still healing, subdued, and on edge. Nothing like his old self, and that left the team without their comedian. Hewasn’t the only one who noticed. D-Day suffered from his own demons, the lack of contact with Helen.

It was inconceivable that he’d previously gone a whole six months without calling her, texting her, seeing her. He had been a complete moron. He had been in way over his head since the very second he’d met her, and it was like she was a part of him that he couldn’t reach, couldn’t have, couldn’t keep, all that time cut off from himself. So, idiot, he knew exactly why he hadn’t contacted her. He knew exactly why he’d never gone back home. He hadn’t felt worthy, and it was the crux of his problem. Even when that trident was pinned to his chest, his anxious doubts chased him through all his missions, and there had been no connections with any woman outside of his team because his shyness wasn’t just about his tentativeness with the opposite sex. He feared betrayal more than he craved connection, touch, warmth, and closeness.

He arrived at his condo and pulled out his key, but the door opened before he could insert it. Katherine Buckard stood in the doorway, and he had to wonder how many fucking keys Buck had handed out.

“Mrs. Buckard?” he stammered.

“Andrew,” she said in that motherly way that showed she was pissed. “I’ve told you to call me Kitty.” She grabbed his shirt and pulled him and his duffel inside. “I’m here because I will not take no for an answer. You need to come home for Christmas.”

He opened his mouth, not exactly sure what he was going to say, but she preempted him. “I know you’re on a month’s leave. Your CO confirmed it, so you’ll be free.” She took a hard breath. “They woke Buck up today, and he’s…” Her breath caught, and she wiped her eyes. “He’s still my son and is doing great.”

D-Day let out a hard, grunting breath, so damn thankful, the relief almost knocked him to his knees. “He’s coming homewith me, and Helen will be done with her assignment in the Philippines. When can you get there?”

“Mrs.—” At her stern look, he sighed. He’d rather face Joker again. “Kitty, I have something I have to do before I can commit to anything…or anyone.” He swallowed hard, wanting with all his being to be part of that family, but he still had unfinished business at home. “I have to go back to Bedford, back to my own family. I have something I need to say to them.”

She took in his solemn face, and after a moment her features softened. “They treated you poorly, didn’t they? Damn them. You say your piece, and then you come back to us. We love you like you are our son.” Her eyes filled, and he grabbed her and hugged her fiercely.

“I will do my best not to disappoint you.”

“Oh, sweet boy, you could never disappoint me,” she murmured.

It wasn’t long before he found himself touching down in Bedford, Massachusetts. The town had changed in the seven years since he’d been there. He started for the exit but was caught up short by a voice.

“Andrew? Nolan…is that you?” D-Day turned to find one of the guys who had beaten him senseless, humiliated him, and left him to the elements on that cold night. Keith Sommers.

“Sommers,” D-Day said, the edge to his voice like ice.

“I’ve tried to contact you. For a while now. Your mom said you had joined the Navy, became a SEAL. Wow, that’s something.”

“What do you want?” D-Day snapped, not in the mood to deal with this asshole.

Sommers took a breath, realizing that D-Day didn’t have the patience. “I want to apologize for what we…what I did to you. It was unconscionable. I’m ashamed of myself for putting you through all that. We were stupid little bastards, jacked upon testosterone, terrorizing everyone. Only you had the guts to stand up to us. I’m not offering any excuses. I’m only offering my sincerest remorse. I know you’ll probably never forgive us. We ruined your last year of high school, and we don’t deserve it, but I just had to tell you how much I admired you back then, and how twisted and jealous I was.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to go. Gotta catch my flight, but take care and be safe out there, and thank you for your service.”

He dashed off, leaving D-Day flabbergasted and so disoriented, he had to find a bench and sit down. Everything dropped on him like a ton of bricks, all of it falling into place.

Helen had said he’d changed her life. But she had no idea how much she’d changed him without uttering a word more about it. She was the hands that were pressing him forward out of the dark and into the light. Those soft, tantalizing, always heartbreakingly gentle hands.

She didn’t know the man she had fallen in love with, not even close, and he thought there was no coming back from the places he’d been.

But Helen was that beacon, that angel that forced him to take the light into his own hands and shine it directly on himself until he saw all the flaws, all the pain, and the stark, invaluable truth. Worthiness wasn’t something he could find outside himself—the SEALs, approval, respect, his ancestors, his legacy, his parents—were all immaterial. Each time he faced his fears, he gained strength and courage, and that was all his doing. He saw his past for what it was, nothing but a lesson in the person he was, and the person he had become. A warrior, a protector, a guardian sent to the worst places on earth to do bad things to bad people. His mind exploded, his heart opening so wide it hurt. He was more than worthy of her love. He was the man she deserved and had been all along. He just hadn’t seen it.

But now that he understood who he was and why all of that mattered to him, this time he was leaving on his own terms. He was walking away not because he wanted others to realize his worth and value, but because he finally realized his own.

The sky waslow and overcast, the steady fall of wet snow beautiful as it settled on everything the eye could see, trees, their land as it stretched to the horizon, rocks, barns, and the house. Her breath fogged the air, and the sweet black and white Appaloosa filly stamped at the inactivity. She’d named her Zigzag for the zigzaggy-like markings on her rump. She was a prize, and Helen’s hope of breeding her with quarter horses for a new, showy cutter swelled. With an unsatisfied ache, she was at loose ends right now, not sure what her future would hold.

She had waited and she had waited for any word from him. But there had been nothing but missed calls and silence. She had thrown herself at her work, getting to know Dr. Quinn, Greg’s replacement, and they had gotten very close. Between bouts of intense worry over her brother, the suffering of the Filipino people, and D-Day’s silence, she had been relieved when the assignment ended. She’d quit the very next day and had gone home.

Her mother had come back to the ranch with Buck and Mari, and the whole SEAL team. Joker and Pippa, Professor and Julia, Gator and Izzy, Blitz and Bree, Zorro, and Bear. They were spread all over the ranch, in the house, the bunkhouse, and a guest house that accommodated four. Her mother had put them to work decorating up a storm, and everything was so wonderfully Christmas. Lights were everywhere, on the fences, the barns, the house, every hall was decked with holly, and hermother, sister, and the other SEAL babes were cooking up a storm. It was Christmas Eve, and her heart was full of love as she yearned for the one person who was absent.

She turned the reins and kicked Zigzag into a wild gallop across the snowy field, her hooves kicking up powdery crystals of ice, as the exhilaration of being on horseback made her forget about everything.

Her heart swelled when she caught sight of the ranch house and barns all lit up. It helped to raise her spirits. She was home safe and sound, she was going to celebrate Christmas with her family, and Buck was…Buck, and so grumpy about being fussed over, she couldn’t resist overdoing it.

She laughed softly as she reached the barn and swung down from the saddle. She pulled the reins over her neck, then led her mount toward the festive barn, kicking up snow with her favorite boots as she went. She paused briefly outside, straightening the horse’s mane as Zigzag took a long, noisy drink from the watering trough. Having drunk her fill, the filly tossed her head, flinging water and making her bridle jingle. Helen laughed softly at her antics. “How can you feel your oats?” she murmured. “I haven’t fed you yet.”

Zigzag whinnied when she caught the scent of one of the most gorgeous quarter horse stallions trampling back and forth in the paddock. “He’s not for you just yet, my pretty. Soon, though. You’ll have a foal by next spring, and I’m positive you’ll make pretty babies.”

She led the filly through the wide barn door, the lights on in the long alleyway between big box stalls but still casting the cavernous structure in murky light.

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