Time didn’t matter. Though he had stood amongst his team, listening to the minister speak of what a good and honorable man River had been, Shane heard none of it — heard nothing but the pounding of his own heart.
He’d lost men before, men who’d been his friends. But River was different. He was a true friend, and he was now gone. There would be no more nights on the field together, nights of playing cards, laughing over something River’s daughter had done, of River pestering him to settle down.
His brother-in-arms would never be there again.
They all knew that the risks were high when they were on a mission. They all knew they or their comrades could die. They were trained for this. But none of that helped. No amount of training could really prepare them for the worst.
Shane didn’t know whether he could continue to do this.
It was just one more loss in a million other losses. The difference now was that Shane had people he truly cared about at home.
Lia.
He’d hurt her so much in the last few years. And he’d never wanted to hurt her, which was why he’d felt justified in keeping this part of his life separate from her.
But still, he’d managed to lose her trust, to make her heart ache. The two of them — they were something he’d never intended to happen. But now it seemed that he couldn’t live without her.
She might seem tough to the world, as if she had it all together, but Shane knew the insecurities she dealt with. Yes, she’d grown up in a loving family, but somehow Lia had been the one to get forgotten about most.
She’d been the middle child. Her younger sister got a lot of attention because she was the baby; her older brother got a lot of attention just because of who he was. Then there was Lia. She had been painfully shy for years.
He’d never known that — never knew she had been afraid to talk to people, afraid to make friends, not until many years later when she’d confided in him. It had been difficult for her to make changes, but when she’d decided to break free of her shell, she’d done so with a vengeance.
Despite the solemnity of this occasion, the thought almost made Shane smile.
Almost — but not quite.
Shane’s eyes moved back toward River’s casket as he and his men placed their hands on the flag covering it, and all other thoughts disappeared.
His friend was about to be laid to eternal rest. Yes, it could happen to any one of them at any time. But why River?
His widow was handed the traditionally folded flag, and to the slow, measured music from the bugler, his wooden casket was lowered into the ground. Day is done, gone the sun.
For the first time since he was a small child, Shane felt a stinging sensation in his eyes. Surprised, he blinked away the emotion, then stood at full attention to honor his friend and colleague.
People began clearing out from the cemetery, their moods as gloomy as the overcast sky. Many sobbed quietly as they held on to one another.
Shane stood tall, watching as the staff began disassembling the protective tents they’d put up in case the sky decided to pour down its own sorrow.
His men stood wordless by his side and behind him, none of them leaving until he began to walk away. They were close, and they’d been lucky, until now, not to lose one of the team.
“Grayson!”
Shane turned to see his commander approaching. The man was only about fifteen years older than Shane, but he’d seen a lot in his years in the military, more than Shane ever cared to see. There was a hardness to the man’s voice and tone that bespoke authority and grim experience.
The men followed him, always with no questions asked.
“Yes, sir?” Irritated at the quietness of his own voice, Shane stood even taller and squared his shoulders more fully. It wasn’t OK for him to show weakness in front of his commander — even weakness caused by the loss of a teammate.
“Your team did well. The girl has been safely returned to her family, and the diplomat is extremely pleased. I know you’re all having a difficult time with this loss. I am truly sorry. River was a good man.”
“Thank you, sir. We’ll feel better if we can just get back to work,” Shane said, desperate to go into battle, to shoot something or someone. He needed to vent his rage, his frustration and the feeling of free-falling that had been running through him for too long now.
“That’s a negative, Grayson. Your team is on leave as of right now. No one is cleared for duty until the doc gives his OK.”
Shane’s gaze narrowed just the slightest, and his commander narrowed his own in turn, making Shane back down immediately. Never once had he shown disrespect to a superior.
“Sir, I don’t think that’s necessary. We know the risks we take in the field. We know it could be any one of us at any time. This call-in was supposed to last a month,” Shane said, keeping his tone neutral. He was skirting the line here.
“Well, the call has been suspended, Grayson — for all of you. You’re to see the doc next week. Follow me over here. I want to speak to you privately for a moment,” he said, and Shane walked away from his men. He stood at attention and waited. “Grayson, I’ve thought of you as more than a soldier for a lot of years now. I respect you. Like you. I don’t say that to a lot of men. May I be frank with you?”
Shane couldn’t imagine what the man wanted to say. “Of course, sir.”
“You’ve been finished with this life for a long time, Shane,” he said, using his first name for the first time that Shane could ever recall. “You do know that if you decide to retire, you do so with honor. You have a life outside of the military, which is something a lot of us can’t say. Maybe it’s time you embrace that, get out of this before it destroys you the way it does so many.”
The commander didn’t give him time to respond before turning and walking away, leaving Shane standing there unsure of what had just happened. His commander was right: he was finished with military life — he just didn’t know how to make the final break.
Slowly, Shane walked back over to his men, who had waited for him, and he looked each of them in the eyes before he gave an attempt at a smile.
“You all heard the commander; you’re dismissed,” Shane said. Each man clapped him on the shoulder before taking his leave. They didn’t ask what the commander had spoken to him about. They knew he didn’t want to talk and they respected him for it. They most likely felt the same way.
Rage and sorrow tore at his heart as Shane cast a long last glance at the open grave. The casket had been lowered, River laid to rest.