A Soldier's Family

His brows rose slowly. “If I really did?”

Ugh. Had she said that out loud? Why couldn’t she be better at this sort of thing? Learn how to think before speaking? Her mouth ran way ahead of her brain, and that was a fact. How could she stop this automatic, inherent suspicion of him?

Judging by the look on Manny’s face, he picked up on it, too. Celia hated that she doubted him, but there it was again. Would she never be free of it?

He tipped his chin at her. “Who messed you up, Celia?”

Her back hit the spindles on the chair. She’d likely have a bruise on the skin over her spine. “What?”

He dipped his head in a curt nod. “You heard me.”

“That’s just weird.”

“Your expressive face hides nothing, Cel.”

Cel. No one had called her that since—

The lump returned to her throat. Joseph.

Fine. If Manny wanted the ugly truth, she’d let him have it. “I lived under the same roof with a man who acted one way on Sunday then a different way the rest of the week.”

“Your late husband?”

How’d he know about Joseph? She didn’t want him to assume he had a mean bone in his body.

“No. My father. I have a tough time trusting and gauging if most Christians are for real. I was forced to attend a church oblivious that it was possessed by an evil deacon.”

His brows rose. “Deacon possessed?”

“Yes. No. My father was—never mind.” She just wanted to leave. How’d they shuttle down this road anyway?

He folded bulky arms loosely over his chest and tilted his head to one side. “But you’re a Christian.”

“Yeah, and I know how hard I struggle. I know that I’d fall flat on my face if He didn’t help me every step. I know what I’m capable of when left to my own devices. I pose a danger to myself and others, as you well know.”

She meant the smack-down at the reception. Whether he picked up on that, she didn’t know because his expression gave nothing away.

Then his face drooped with sadness. “I know the feeling.” He searched her face, her eyes, as if deciding whether to say more. That told her there was more on his mind than words conveyed. But what? What put that extra depth of dark in his eyes? What hid there? She aimed to find out. Only to understand him if they were to try and build a friendship. For Joel and Amber’s sakes, of course.

“So, friends?” He uncrossed his arms and reached out his hand to her.

Did he want her to actually shake on it? What if he put the moves on her again? Don’t be ridiculous, Celia.

She tried hard not to judge. God knew she battled gladiators of doubt in that arena. It took a lot to convince her so she mostly kept church people at bay. Like right now.

Manny’s hand dropped to the bed with a dull thud and he looked…dejected. Regret singed her stomach lining. She had no right pointing out other people’s faults when she stumbled over plenty of her own. Still, trust didn’t come easy to her and when it finally did, discernment of men’s ongoing motives ate at her constantly. Especially dangerous and powerful men like Manny who possessed charm and who reminded her so much of her father.

A knock outside Manny’s door drew their attention.

“Hello?” Joel poked his head in. “I’ve got two guys out here anxious to see Manny and his killer bruises.”

Manny grinned and eyed Celia. “Bradley and Javier?”

He remembered her son’s name? Her heart thawed a degree.

Manny situated his covers. “Let ’em in.”

“Dude! That musta hurt.” Javier gaped at the swelling and bruises on Manny’s face and arms. Bradley just stared. Celia hoped it wouldn’t strike fear in his heart about Joel.

“Slightly.” Manny grinned.

“What’s gonna happen now?” Javier asked.

“According to the doctors, intense physical therapy for up to a year. I had to have reconstructive surgery on my hip.”

“When will you get to jump again?” Javier asked.

Manny didn’t answer for the longest time. It tore at her heart to watch his throat constrict like that but she knew he tried to be brave.

“I’m not sure,” Manny finally answered.

“Ah, dude, you will get to jump again, right?” Javier asked.

Again, the Adam’s apple in Manny’s throat gave him away. “I hope so. The next six months will tell.”

“Six months? That stinks. Bradley said you might do rehab here.”

For some reason Manny flicked a glance Celia’s way and held it there, almost like a question. “I might.”

“Dude, I hope you do. I mean, you’re a PJ. An American hero. If you ever wanna use Dad’s weight room in our basement, dude, feel free. Mom could never get rid of it, ’cause she used to walk the treadmill while Dad and I pumped iron. If you ever need a workout buddy, I’m game.”

Manny’s eyes glittered with something Celia couldn’t discern. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Wait. Manny working out in her house? Getting all sweaty and buff just a floor beneath her?

Nuh-uh. Nope. That wouldn’t be good. What if she ended up falling for the guy or something crazy? She didn’t like that idea.

She decided against scolding Javier in front of Manny. That might damage her relationship with Javier further. But as soon as she got him alone, he needed to know not to make suggestions like that without consulting her first. She caught Javier’s eye and tossed him “The Mommy Look” instead, which he pretended not to see.

Unease cinched her stomach tight at the look of hero worship coming from her son’s eyes every time he looked at Airman Péna. Maybe she should keep space between the two of them. She’d worked all these years to steer Javier toward choosing a sensible career, not dangerous ones. Javier didn’t seem at all fazed by Manny’s injuries.

She worked three jobs and scraped every penny to send him to college. She planned to surprise Javier by prepaying tuition at the local university. That would give him a good start. A better one than she’d had. Hopefully, Javier would appreciate her sacrifice and do well. She could see him behind a fancy executive desk. Certainly not stuffed in some tank or chopper.

Javier cracked his knuckles. “Dude, I hope you get to go back to the military. That’s the coolest job in the world.”

All right. That’s it. Celia snapped fingers at her son. “Javier, we need to go. Gotta get crackin’ on that homework.”

Javier half faced her, his shoulders slumped. “But I have all weekend to—”