SEALs of Honor: Markus (7 page)

“It’s hard to lose someone you love, isn’t it.”

He raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet, not making any attempt to hide it. Then he gave a clipped nod of his head. “It’s too damn hard sometimes.” He shook his head. Surely he hadn’t said that. “Come on, we have to move.”

She smiled and clasped his hand. A hand he hadn’t realized he’d held out to her. And holding hands they walked slowly in the direction of the cabin.

“I gave it all up,” she said suddenly. “I made peace with it all.”

“Is that possible?” He knew she was talking about her death.

“Absolutely. You have to get to the point of letting go. Of fighting as hard as you can then let it go because you know it’s out of your hands. At one point they didn’t think I’d make it and gave me a few months to live. I spent time with my father, my brothers. But then I wanted to be alone. To spend time with me.”

She laughed, her tone light and airy. “My family didn’t understand what I meant.”

But he did. In a way he did. “When life gets too difficult we need to know we aren’t alone but then it gets to the point of being something no one can help us get through. And if it’s just us alone then that’s what – who – we have to make peace with.”

“Exactly. And in my case, I needed to assess what I’d done with my life up to that point. I was trying to forgive myself for not living and not making the most out of this thing called life.”

“Again I have to ask – is that possible?”

“I think so. I had so many plans, wishes, dreams, but they were off in the distance. Plans for when I had the money. When I had the time. Things that I’d assumed to be in my future but down the road. The children I’d planned to have. The husband I’d thought would be there in my life. I’d always wanted to have a house out of the city. Breed corgis. I don’t know why, but I love that short-legged dog. I had one growing up.” There was a catch in her voice. “I still miss him.”

“Pets are like that.” He loved dogs. Hell he adored cats, but there was something special about dogs.

“Yeah, but they still aren’t the same as people.” She smiled. “My father got really angry at me for trying to hide my illness.”

“I’m sure he did.” Markus motioned toward the trees and directed her around several fallen branches on the ground. “No one wants to think of a loved one suffering.”

“Exactly,” she exclaimed. “See, you understand.”

He did but that was because after Fiona’s death nightmares had tormented him. He woke in a deep sweat always worrying she’d died painfully and alone.

“But then when I did tell him, he couldn’t help, so there was just more of us upset. What good does that do?” she asked in exasperation. “If there was something he could do, that I needed him to do, then I’d have asked for help.”

“Unless you had no resources left,” Markus said.

She gave him a sideways look, the whites of her eyes bright in the moonlight. “You can’t know that.”

“Yeah, I can. You sold everything you had to pay your own bills instead of asking him for help.”

“But he doesn’t have much and he’s older, looking forward to retiring. What was the point in him wasting his money on me if I wasn’t going to make it?” she countered.

“Now you’re going to make me mad,” he growled.

“Why?” she asked, astonished.

And to his surprise she really didn’t seem to understand. “Because when you love someone you’d do anything to help out. To make that journey easier. And if there was anything I had or could have done that would have saved someone I loved and I had the means available, only they wouldn’t let me help, I’d be angry too.”

There was silence then.

But he meant it. He’d have done anything to bring Fiona back. To think that pride might have stopped her from asking for help in a situation like Bree’s, hell yeah he’d be mad. “What’s the point of loving someone if you can’t help them in times of trouble? Love isn’t about sunshine and roses. It’s about being there in the stormy times too.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “You must have really suffered.”

“I did,” he said shortly. “I couldn’t save her, and I’d have done anything to have changed that.”

“When it’s your time, it’s your time. I think that’s what I was trying to save my father from. I was already suffering. I didn’t want him to suffer too.”

“By not sharing what was going on, you made him feel shut out. That you didn’t care about him. That he wasn’t worth being invited into this most difficult time,” he argued. “That you didn’t love him enough to share in your journey.”

“But I didn’t mean that.” Amazed, she stopped and stared at him. She chewed on her bottom lip. “I’d only been trying to save him from seeing my suffering, knowing he’d hurt all the more too.”

“Maybe, but you also kept him from being able to say what he might have needed to say before you were gone. To make amends for anything he felt he needed to. By going it alone, you were also being selfish. By trying to put his feelings first by keeping him from seeing you suffer, you also failed to give him a chance to
help
his beloved daughter. You robbed him of the chance to be who he inherently is – your father.”

A cry escaped.

And he felt like shit.

H
ad she done
that? She’d been so proud of getting through the treatments and recovery alone, by being strong and not dragging anyone else down with her. She hadn’t wanted them to see her suffer. To suffer with her. “I didn’t mean to do that.” Tears burned in the corner of her eyes. “I love him. He’s had a difficult life. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“If you’d died and he found out afterwards what you’d gone through, you’d have left him a legacy he’d have found difficult to heal from. There’d always be that question of ‘why didn’t she tell me. She didn’t have to go through that alone. Surely there was something I could have done to help. Even to just hold her hand and let her know she wasn’t alone.’”

She shuddered as every one of his statements hit her like a hammer.

“I need to call him,” she whispered, hating the regret clogging her throat. “Let him know I’m okay and that I just needed some time to adjust.”

“You walked away?”

The note of incredulity made her wince. She nodded slowly. “I told him I was going to live – I had to figure what I was going to do with this gift. And I left.”

She
had
been only thinking of herself when she’d walked away. Not so much on purpose but her life had flipped so completely she hadn’t been able to see anything but what was right in front of her. She needed to figure out her next move. She’d called him twice since leaving but Markus was right. It wasn’t enough. He’d been worried. He’d known she was weak. But she’d been determined. To what? To keep him out? To do this on her own? How prideful could she be?

Feeling small inside, she stumbled. Markus caught her.

“Look, I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet, low. “I don’t know your father. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I feel it would be if that were me.”

“No, I think you are probably correct.” The catch in her voice sounded even though she tried so hard to not let it.

“But I didn’t have to make it so harsh.” He sighed. “It’s a hot topic for me. I lost someone in an accident. She hadn’t wanted to go out diving as she’d been feeling really crappy that day and instead of backing out she went anyway.”

“Prideful.”

“She didn’t want to let anyone down.”

“So instead she died.” She winced. “A diving accident. That would be rough.”

“She was a good diver but we’d always gone together. I was always there to look out for her.”

“And this time you weren’t so you feel guilty.” She sighed as she accepted his help over a fallen tree, thinking of what a bizarre conversation to have in the middle of the woods at night with the man who’d found her. Then again, that was part of her new world. To rejoice in the unusual.

And this – he – was unusual.

“You didn’t have a partner to help you though the illness?”

“No.” Damn it, there it was again. The catch in her voice. But there was a freedom in speaking with a stranger. Someone who didn’t know the nasty details of her history. The good or the bad.

He waited.

She groaned. “Okay, if you must know, he worked with me at the same company. I got laid off and he got my job.”

Markus never said a word.

“And well, when I started to get sick he couldn’t handle it. He walked, I got canned, he moved up in life and I never heard from him again.”

“Good,” Markus said calmly. “He didn’t deserve you.”

“Right. Well, I told him that he could take a walk. That where I was going I only wanted someone worth keeping at my side. That life is too short otherwise.”

Markus made an odd choking sound. She glanced at him suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Absolutely not,” he said in such a serious tone she believed him.

They walked in silence a bit further. Her muscles screamed at this point, and the minimal effect of the protein bar had long disappeared. She wondered if he had more. Dare she ask? Then again that went along with making her life interesting and doing what she wanted.

“Don’t suppose you have another bar do you?” she asked apologetically.

Silently one magically appeared in his hand.

“Yay.” she snatched it up and ripped the packaging. Then stopped. “Is this one yours?”

He gave her a strange look.

She rushed to clarify. “I already ate mine so if this is the last one, then it’s yours.” As understanding crossed his face, she added, “I wouldn’t want to take your share.”

“I have more,” he reassured her. “Eat. We still have a few miles to go.”

“It would be easier if we stopped until we could see something.” She glanced around. “Morning comes early here.”

She hoped the fatigue in her voice didn’t show, but he hadn’t missed noticing much about her yet.

Immediately he motioned to another downed log off on the side. “Let’s sit down.”

“No, I can keep going,” she protested immediately.

“And I can carry you, too.” He led her to the log and sat down first.

With few options she sat down beside him and ate the bar. Only she shouldn’t have stopped walking. Now her body ached and the thought of standing up and putting one foot in front of the other was deadly.

“Any idea how much farther?”

“Over four miles, closer to five yet.”

She groaned. “Why did I have to run so damn far?”

“We’ll get there.” He hesitated.

She shook her head, immediately understanding where his thoughts were taking him. “No, you’re not carrying me. I can walk just fine.”

“You don’t have to do everything alone, you know.”

“Maybe not, but I’m not hurt, I’m not dying and I have enough strength to keep this up if need be.”

“But…”

“Well, if I could rest for a few minutes. Maybe close my eyes…”

The skies opened up and dumped torrential rain on them.

She groaned and closed her eyes. “Only in Alaska.”

*

Markus laughed. “This
can happen anywhere.”

He stood up then bent and scooped her up in his arms, startling a squeak out of her, then walked to the far side of the downed tree and set her down on the ground on the other side. He could feel the shivers wracking her slight frame after she’d been sitting too long. He pulled out his emergency blanket and wrapped it around her.

“No, you have to come under it with me,” she cried out. “I’m not going to sit here under shelter while you’re sitting in the rain.”

“I’m fine.” In fact, he loved being out in the elements. He’d be happy to walk back the rest of the way, carrying her if need be. The territory was open, spotted with trees and before the rain, clear and crisp. Special. He loved every minute of it, but he also knew her independence was something she valued. There was no rush here. He’d checked in with his team. They knew he was bringing her in.

She was also skinny enough that she’d hurt if he carried her far. She had no padding on her bones. And his grip would leave bruises on her body requiring more healing energy she couldn’t afford.

So what if they spent the night out in the woods. He had no problem with it. She wouldn’t either if she was feeling better. He was more concerned with her getting sick. The exertion, the trauma, and now the soaking was a sentence for illness. Her immune system was already shot.