BECKETT
Letter #11 Chaos,
I missed Colt’s Thanksgiving play yesterday. He was the Pilgrim with the line that invited the Native Americans to the feast. He practiced his lines for weeks. Talked about it constantly.
And I missed it.
Maisie wasn’t strong enough to come home after her first session of chemo. Her cell counts dropped, and they wouldn’t let us leave Denver until they rose to safe levels. It happens, at least that’s what I’ve been told by one of the other moms here. Her name is Annie, and she’s been a godsend these last two weeks. Her little boy is here, and I guess you could say she’s taken me under her wing. The learning curve is unforgivably steep.
We’ve been in Denver for almost two weeks now. It’s the best Children’s Hospital in Colorado, and it’s where her oncologist is based, but I found out a few days after we got here that it’s also not in our insurance network. How funny that I never thought about things like that before.
Why can’t I keep my thoughts straight? Even my letters are scattered now, but so is my brain.
So yeah, two weeks, and I missed Colt’s play. Ada went and taped it for me, but it’s not the same. He put on such a brave face when we FaceTimed right after, but I know I let him down. I swore when they were born I’d never let them down, and now no matter what I do, one of them suffers for it.
How is that fair? I see the parents here who take shifts between the mom and dad, or the parents with only one child, and I feel this pang of
horrid, selfish longing for what they have—the ability to balance.
I know, in the scheme of things, missing the play isn’t a big deal. It’s the first of many, right? There’s loads coming for him that I can be there for, and Maisie needs me right now. But I can’t help but feel like it’s the first drop in the bucket, and I’m so scared it’s going to eventually fill. I missed his first play when I swore I’d never miss anything, and as the doctors are presenting me with treatment plans, I can see how much she’ll miss. How much he will.
Because I didn’t just miss the first play, Maisie did, too. And instead of being on stage, she was in a hospital bed. The docs tell me her counts are on the rise, and they’re hopeful we can go home tomorrow.
God, I hope they’re right.
I hope you guys are getting some semblance of turkey over there, or at least a little downtime. Rest when you can.
~ Ella
…
I rubbed Havoc’s head as I turned the truck through the Solitude gate, then drove along the curved road toward my cabin, passing Ella’s. Her SUV was gone, which meant they must have left for Denver as planned. She’d been here this morning when I’d gone for a training session at my new job, and I’d had a flash of worry that something had changed their plans.
Not that she’d tell me.
Not that I even deserved to know.
She’d killed me last night, asking those questions, calling me a stranger. I’d nearly broken right there, but our circumstances hadn’t changed, and if being only Beckett let me close enough to help, then I’d bury Chaos next to Ryan. God knew that was mostly the case already. I hadn’t been far off when I’d implied that he’d died on that mission, too.
I didn’t want to lie to Ella—even by omission—but if she knew who I really was, she’d kick me out of her life. Knowing would only lead her to
asking questions I couldn’t answer, and even if I did, the truth would exile me just as quickly as her discovery of the lie I’d been living. As long as she didn’t find out, and I kept my feelings in check, I’d be the only one burdened by the ugly truth.
Once Maisie was healed, and Ella didn’t need me anymore, I’d tell her.
I made the turn into my long driveway and then hit the brakes hard enough to bring Havoc to attention.
There was a strange Jeep parked in front of my cabin.
Who the hell could it be? I crept forward slowly, until a familiar figure walked around the side of the Jeep. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark eyes, hair, and skin; I knew him at first glance.
Captain Donahue.
What could he possibly want?
“It’s okay, girl,” I told Havoc. “Just Donahue.” I parked the truck and got out, Havoc jumping down after me.
“Loose Dog!” I called out the warning as she bounded toward him, knowing full well she wouldn’t attack him.
“Ha, very funny,” he said, dropping down to her level.
She came to a halt directly in front of him and sat on her back haunches as I walked up to him.
“What are you doing here, Donahue?”
“Nice shirt,” he said, nodding at my new Telluride Mountain Rescue shirt.
“What are you doing here?” I repeated.
He sighed and stood up. “Always one for words, aren’t you?” He opened the Jeep door and leaned in, coming back out with a red Kong. “I brought you a present,” he told Havoc. Her ears perked up as he showed it to her, but she didn’t budge when he threw it into the woods. “Seek!” he called, but she still looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “What? You love those things.”
I stood at her side and crossed my arms over my chest.
“She’s really still that stubborn?” he asked, lifting his sunglasses to the
top of his head. “Yep.”
She didn’t even look at me, just kept her eyes trained on him.
“Fine. I was hoping with some time off, we wouldn’t have to retire her… or you.” He shook his head in exasperation.
“Seek.”
With one word, Havoc sprung toward the woods to find her new toy. A smile spread across my face as Donahue rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah. Point proven. She’s yours and always has been. It’s good to see you.”
“Ditto, but you haven’t answered my question. Why are you here?” “Can we sit?”
I took him to the small patio behind the cabin where a full set of furniture sat in the shade of the three p.m. sun.
“You’re about forty-five days out,” he said as we sat in the red Adirondack chairs.
“Yep,” I said, launching the Kong toward the lake. Havoc was overjoyed to run for it. She’d been put through her paces today in seeking work, keeping her skills honed for finding people, and she was tired but happy.
“I’m here to ask you to reconsider.” He leaned forward a little. “Nope.”
“Gentry.” He sighed, rubbing the area between his eyebrows. “We’re a team.”
“Not anymore.” My voice dropped.
He looked across the lake to the small island. “Have you been out to see him yet?”
My silence answered.
“There was nothing you could have done for him,” he told me for the hundredth time.
“Yeah, well, that’s where we see things differently.”
Havoc returned, and I pitched the toy again, the familiar motion comforting.
“Do you think this is what he’d really want? You to leave the team?
Leave your family? You and Havoc are part of us.”
“I’m doing exactly what he asked.” I pulled the letter from my back pocket and handed it to him.
He read the letter and cursed as he returned it to the envelope. “I should have read the damn thing before I gave it to you.”
“There’s no chance I’m leaving. As much as I appreciate what you’re doing here, I can’t go back. I’m on terminal leave, and in forty-five days, I’ll be out.” I’d be permanently separated from the only life I knew.
“What if there was another option?”
“Unless that option is Mac coming back from the dead, I don’t care. I can’t care. What I want doesn’t matter anymore.”
“I get that. And I understand what you’re doing here. Hell, I admire you for it. It’s the ultimate sacrifice, and I have nothing but respect for you. But I know this…situation won’t go on forever. I don’t want you to turn around and regret this choice.”
I shot him a look that clearly said I wasn’t going to, but he kept going. “What if I told you that due to the nature of our unit, I have the ability to
place you on a kind of temporary disabled list?” “I’m sorry?”
Havoc brought the Kong back, but I saw the exhaustion in her eyes and motioned for her to lie down. She’d fetch that thing until she dropped unless I gave her the signal, so I gave it.
“It’s not what you think. You’re not…disabled. But it was the only way the higher-ups and I could think to give you an out, here.”
“And the fact that nothing is wrong with me?”
“I think we both know that’s not true,” he said, looking back across at the island. “Look, in the last ten years, you’ve never taken leave.”
“And?”
“And you’re exhausted. Mentally and physically exhausted. So on that basis, the paperwork’s been done. You just have to sign it.”
“I’m not coming back.”
“Not now. But this gives you a year to think it over—longer if you need it. We can extend up to five. Pay, benefits, and easy reentry when you’re ready.”
“I already have a job.” I motioned to my shirt.
“Not one where you make the kind of difference that you do with us. You’re family, Gentry, and you’ll always be welcome. Signing those papers to accept doesn’t promise you’ll come back, it simply gives you the option, which you’re about to lose when your terminal leave ends. Or you sign the declination, and this offer dies immediately.” He stood and took a few steps forward, his eyes on the island. “He really was one of the best, wasn’t he?”
“He was the best of us.”
Donahue turned and walked by me, pausing to put his hand on my shoulder. “The papers are at the special ops center outside of Denver. I emailed you the info for the exact office about an hour ago.”
“What? Didn’t want to leave them here?”
“I figured if I left them here, you’d burn them before you considered what I’m trying to offer.”
I hated that he was right.
“It’s good to see you, Gentry. Rest up. Do what you can for Mac’s family, and when you’re done with his mission, come home.” He handed me Ryan’s letter and left without another word.
There was a flicker in my soul—the restlessness that had lain dormant for a couple of weeks coming back to life. The need to focus on one mission at a time and move on. His offer was temptation, and I couldn’t afford it, not when Ella needed me.
I threw together a bag for me and one for Havoc after checking my email to find the address. Best part of my current job was being on call only, not scheduled, and that didn’t officially start for another week anyway. If I left within the hour, I could be in Denver by ten or so, if the six hours it had taken me to get here was the usual time. In seven hours I could sign the declination and put an end to any thought of taking Donahue up on his offer. Besides, maybe the trip would cure that little bite of restlessness that
had her teeth in me.
Twenty minutes later I walked into the main house, Havoc at my side. “Mr. Gentry!” Hailey said, perking up as I walked toward her. She batted
her lashes and leaned forward. “What can I do for you?”
She was exactly the kind of girl Mac would have gone for. Funny, gregarious, pretty, and interested.
But I was only Ella’s—even if she didn’t know it.
Be nice. Be civil. Use a softer tone. I repeated the reminders in my head, determined to make an effort with the people who mattered to Ella.
“I’m headed to Denver for a few days and just wanted to make sure you knew before I took off.”
“Oh, of course—” The phone rang, and she answered, holding up her finger at me. “Solitude, this is Hailey. Oh, hey, Ella. What?”
Now it was me leaning on the counter.
“Well, do you have to have it? Of course, I realize that. I just meant I could overnight it…”
“What is it?” I asked.
“She left Maisie’s big binder in the office,” she whispered, covering the receiver.
“Her medical one?” That was one thing Ella had at every appointment. It kept every record of her treatments, every written lab result…everything.
Hailey nodded. “I know, Ella, just let me see what I can do…”
I snatched the phone out of Hailey’s hand. “I’ll bring it to you. Have Hailey text me your room number at the hospital.” Before she could argue, I handed the phone back to Hailey. Turning toward the door, I saw Ada coming from the office with the binder in her outstretched hands.
“I heard. She’d just stopped in for a second this morning and left it behind.”
“I’ll take care of it,” I told her.
“I know you will,” she said. “Do you want us to keep Havoc for you?”
My first impulse was a hearty “hell no.” But then Colt’s head popped out of the dining area.
“Havoc!” He raced forward and dropped to his knees to hug her, and she laid her head on his shoulder. “Please? Can we? She can sleep in my bed and everything. I’ll throw her toy and feed her, I promise!”
“She goes where I go,” I said to Ada.
“Not to the hospital. I know she’s a working dog, but they’ll let only service dogs in.” Her eyes echoed her plea. “Mr. Gentry, Ella wouldn’t let me go with her. Or Larry. And I know about…Ryan’s letter and all.” She glanced at Colt and back to me. “And I wouldn’t want Havoc cooped up in a hotel if you were to…say, stay for the duration of the surgery tomorrow.”
She was calling me out, no doubt. But she had no clue how badly I wanted to be there for Ella, or how hard it would be to leave Havoc.
A litany of swear words ran through my head, none of them adequate to express my conflicted feelings. Havoc would be safe here and cared for. It wasn’t like we hadn’t spent a weekend apart before. When we weren’t deployed she was kenneled with all the other working dogs as per regulation, but she’d been with me every deployment and every moment since Mac had died.
But Ada was right, and Ella was going to be alone.
I took a deep breath and dropped down to look Colt in the eyes. “You have school tomorrow?”
He shook his head slowly. “Teacher day or something.” “Teacher work day,” Ada corrected.
I nodded and rubbed my hand across his spiky hair growth. “Okay. Then you are in charge of her. Okay? Her bag is in the truck, and it has her food and favorite stuff.” The more I explained how to care for her, the brighter his eyes became, until the kid was pretty much a Care Bear for all the joy he was emanating.
She’d be in good hands.
I got her bag and took it back to Colt, then dropped to my knees in front of Havoc, took her face in my hands, and looked into her eyes. “Stay with Colt. Be nice.” I added that little extra order so she knew I meant only stay and not protect. Teeth came out otherwise. But this was her choice, and if
she showed any hesitation, she couldn’t stay—she’d have to leave with me. It was the very reason we were retiring together.
Her head swiveled to look at Colt, indicating she understood not only the command but who he was.
“I’ll be back in a few days. Stay. With. Colt. Be. Nice.”
I let her head go, and she immediately trotted over to the boy. “Good girl.” Equal parts of relief and worry hit me right in the gut. “It wouldn’t be a good idea to separate them,” I warned Ada.
“Will she bite?” she whispered.
“No. Not unless someone messes with him. If that happens, God help the person, because she’ll only release a bite at my command. You still sure you want to keep her?”
“Absolutely.” She wiped her hands across her crisp, spotless apron. “Let’s go, Havoc!” Colt said, racing out the side door of the house, her
Kong in his little hands. She trotted with him, tail wagging.
Ada tilted her head. “It’s funny…” “What?”
“She looks like such a docile little thing. You’d never guess she’d be capable of ripping someone apart.”
“She’s like any other woman in that regard, ma’am.”
Five minutes later I was driving toward Ella and Maisie, finally able to do the one thing I’d been sent here to do: help.
