Seconds to Live(113)
“Look, Stella. I can’t control my temper. Physically, I’m not a hundred percent either. I’m a mess. I can’t take the risk of another cop getting hurt because of me.”
“Go back on disability. Get better.” She touched his forearm. “You don’t have to quit.”
“I really do.” He met her eyes. His gaze wandered to the doorway, where Morgan straightened Gianna’s blanket. “I need—I don’t know what I need, but this is the first step in a long time that has felt right.”
Stella glanced back at her sister. “All right, but don’t be a stranger.”
“I have no intention of doing that.” Lance kept his eyes on the doorway. “I promised your grandfather I’d install some security cameras at your house tomorrow. The tech guys came and took theirs back. Art said something about trespassers.”
“Did he?” Stella wondered if Grandpa was still determined to catch the errant dog owner or if he wanted Lance around the house for another reason. Like Morgan. Stella wouldn’t put it past Grandpa to play matchmaker. He’d do anything to alleviate Morgan’s sadness. Stella only hoped Lance didn’t get hurt in the process. He had enough of his own troubles. She needed to have a conversation with her grandfather, as if she had any control over him.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow, Stella.”
“Bye.” She returned to Mac.
They went back to his cabin, took a long hot shower, and fell into bed. The storm had broken the heat. Mac closed and locked all the windows and turned on a fan. He tugged her into his arms. “For a guy who once royally messed up his life, I’m feeling pretty lucky.”
Stella stroked his bare shoulder. “You should.”
He kissed her deeply.
“I’m the one who feels lucky.” Stella rolled him onto his back and spent the next hour showing him just how much she loved him.
Chapter Forty-One
Monday
The sun shone with staggering brightness over the cemetery.
Grant, Mac, and four members of the local honor guard carried the flag-draped casket to the grave. Dozens of army officers and servicemen lined up behind the grave. Some had served under Grant. A small, older contingent had served under or with the Colonel. Craig and the crew from the shooting range stood in the back, their mixed bag of dress uniforms starched, their medals shiny. The sea of uniforms extended beyond the graveside rows of folding chairs.
They set the coffin on the platform over the grave. The soldiers saluted. Mac stepped back.
In a tiny navy-blue suit, Carson sat next to Hannah, a crumpled rose clutched in his fist. Ellie and her daughter filled out the rest of the row. Brody hadn’t been released from the hospital. A few rows back, Stella sat with some of the SFPD that had come to pay their respects. Mac took the seat on Hannah’s other side with the rest of the civilians, while service members stood and saluted.
As the firing party lined up for the twenty-one gun salute, Carson scrambled over Hannah to sit in Mac’s lap. When the shots retorted over the quiet span of green, they both jumped three times. “Taps” sounded over the silence, the bugle poignant and stirring.
Mac’s eyes blurred as the soldiers folded the flag with precision. Each movement rehearsed and perfect and exactly what the Colonel would have expected.
What he’d deserved.
He’d given himself to his country, body and soul.
The leader presented the tri-folded flag to Hannah. Mac didn’t hear the chaplain’s speech or Grant’s short eulogy. Memories of his childhood flooded him, and he felt strangely calm.
The service ended and he stood. Carson tugged him over to the row of headstones. To the two that read LEE BARRETT and KATE BARRETT. Carson rested the flower on Kate’s grave, then turned and leaned against Mac’s legs.
Mac’s chest went tight and dry until he couldn’t swallow. Lee was missing so much. Carson losing his baby teeth. Faith learning to walk. He’d never see a first date or wedding or grandchild. Mac and Grant would fill in, but it wouldn’t be the same. On the other side of the Colonel’s open grave was Mac’s mom. At least they were all together.
Carson tugged on Mac’s pants. “Can we go now?”
“Whenever you’re ready.” Mac was more than ready to leave, but he hadn’t wanted to rush Carson.
The boy reached his arms toward Mac. He leaned over and picked him up. Carson’s arms tightened and Mac held him close. He’d do anything for the kids. Anything, even stand over Lee’s grave and relive all the pain of losing him as many times as Carson needed to visit.
Mac carried him back to the car. Hannah and Grant were waiting at the edge of the grass. Carson jumped from Mac’s arms and ran to Grant. Ellie joined them as they went to their car.