Page 14 of Todd
As she turned to wave at someone on the bunkhouse deck, Todd glanced over his shoulder. And there she was.Sadie.Her dark hair caught the sunlight, and her wave was casual, but her eyes were on him.Always on him.
The SUV pulled away, stirring up dust, and Todd’s boots thudded on the wooden steps of the bunkhouse porch. He came to stand beside her, shoulder to shoulder, both of them watching until the taillights disappeared into the golden afternoon.
“You have a really great family, Todd,” she said, her voice soft, a smile tugging at her lips.
He nodded, his chest tight in the best way. “Yeah. I do. I don’t take them for granted. Not for one second. I was glad Logan let them come to the compound. It meant a lot.”
With the unspoken ease of two people who had spent months circling each other, they moved to the chairs that faced the broad sweep of the Montana mountains. The light was beginning to shift, shadows stretching long and blue across the land. Hewatched her more than the view, noticing how her features softened in the fading light.
“With so many of them working for different LSI teams, it wasn’t like they were strangers to the business,” she murmured, gaze still fixed ahead. “Logan understands that they’re already a part of your lifestyle.”
He nodded again but said nothing. The silence stretched. Not uncomfortable, but like something was about to be said. And then she sighed, long and low, as though she’d been holding her breath and didn’t even know it.
He wanted to ask. Wanted to reach over, tilt her chin, and say, “What’s weighing you down?” But Sadie wasn’t the type to be nudged into sharing. She’d reveal pieces when she was ready… if she ever was. And one thing she never talked about was her family, so he didn’t ask.
Still, something inside him needed to open. Maybe because her presence made him feel seen in a way no one else did. “I think my family was worried about me,” he said, the words sounding more like a confession than a statement.
She turned to him, fully this time, her eyes meeting his. There was no pressure there, just waiting to see what he would say.
“I left the Marines after a mission went fubar. We lost two men. Two friends.” He paused, jaw tight. “I keep saying ‘lost,’ but let’s be honest… they were killed. And I was their team leader.”
Her hand came down gently on his arm, fingers resting lightly against his skin for just a few seconds. The gesture was simple, but the effect on him was seismic. A grounding weight in a featherlike touch. Then her hand slipped away from his arm, and he missed it instantly. Like her touch had filled a space he didn’t know was empty.
“You know I was the oldest kid in my family,” he continued, his voice lower now. “Took that responsibility seriously from day one. No one told me to. My parents didn’t guilt me into looking after William and Abbie. I just… did. Always felt like I had to make sure they had someone looking out for them.”
Sadie stayed quiet, but her eyes never left his.
“I remember one night, William had totally screwed up a science project. Came to me in a panic the night before it was due. I stayed up until two, helping him get it together. He still did the work, but I pulled the whole thing into shape. Got him up for school on time, too.”
He chuckled, and the sound held both fondness and melancholy. “He got a B. Mom and Dad never knew he was one step away from flunking.”
Sadie laughed, the sound bright and uninhibited, something rare for Sadie. She tossed her head back, and the sound wrapped around him like music. He didn’t realize how much he needed to hear her laugh until that moment.
“And Abbie?” she asked.
He smiled. “Abbie was always too trusting. Sweet, open-hearted. She got her heart broken more than once by jealous girls and asshole guys. She was the prettiest girl in school, and that made her a target. I tried to protect her.”
“Her champion,” Sadie said, her voice teasing but holding back.
“Yeah. When I left, William had matured enough to take over, and Abbie… well, she didn’t need protection anymore. But I still felt like I was handing over something fragile.”
They were silent for a moment. “I carried that into the military,” he said. “That sense of being responsible for everyone else. Recon. Team leader. In charge of safety, prep, planning… when things went wrong, it felt personal. Eventually, I realizedI couldn’t keep doing it. I got out. Joined LSI because of my siblings. Ended up here.”
She was quiet again and then said, almost to herself, “Sometimes we take on burdens because we don’t trust that anyone else will. Not because we want to… but because we can’t stand the idea of what happens if we don’t.”
He turned to her, the emotion in her voice pulling at something deep in him. He wanted to know what pain she’d carried. What she still carried. But he didn’t ask. Not yet. He hadn’t earned the right to know.
“I’ve said it before, but I can’t apologize enough,” he said instead. “For how I acted when you first arrived. For assuming… for being a jackass. There’s no excuse. It was just me overthinking. Being stupid.”
Sadie didn’t say a word but reached out and placed her hand back on his arm. Her fingers curled slightly, anchoring him again as the sun dipped lower behind the mountains. They sat like that for a long moment, a quiet understanding blooming between them, wordless and steady.
When Cory stepped out of the bunkhouse with a couple of beer bottles in his hands, with Timothy following close, Todd felt the special spell between Sadie and him break. Laughter returned to the group. Familiar teasing between them all.
And Sadie remained, a part of the group living in the bunkhouse. Not his. Not alone. Todd sighed. He didn’t know what tomorrow held, but at least she was here in his orbit. And that was enough. For now.
8
SIX MONTHS LATER
