Chapter 3

Josiah put his travel mug in the cupholder of his car and stuck the key in the ignition.

The sun wasn't up over the horizon, but the gray predawn was starting to lighten. He pulled away from his on base housing and made his way off the quiet military base. Their unit would be deploying in only four days and he was running out of time for this visit. It was four hours in each direction, not an easy trip to make. But one that he should have made before now.

He sighed heavily. As the chaplain for the Navy unit, he was there for everyone's problems. He kept an eye on the men he was assigned with, offering comfort and a listening ear when there was a problem. And yet he had missed offering the one person who mattered to him more than anyone that comfort when she needed it most. Had been halfway around the world, so had missed the signs.

Not that that excused his failure.

He left the radio off, preferring the silence, even if it left him alone with his thoughts. He needed the quiet to get his thoughts in order. So he didn't say the wrong thing.

Josiah left the buildings of Denver behind. He had the road to himself at this early hour and the highway stretched out in front of him, leaving him alone with guilt.

#

Ellie rolled over with a sigh. She felt the warmth beside her and moved closer to it. She felt the solid body in the bed beside her and blinked her eyes open.

Chris was already awake. He looked down at her in the dim morning light. He didn't say anything, but ran a hand over her hair. Ellie closed her eyes at the touch.

She had thought of Chris as her brother's friend—as her friend—for years. How she had never felt the burn of his touch, the searing heat of his kisses, before this, she had no idea. Being with him was the most natural thing in the world.

She wrapped an arm around his torso, wishing she could keep him there, stop him from going back overseas. Back to whatever it was that had put the haunted shadows in his eyes.

"What are you thinking?" she whispered.

Chris moved his hand to her cheek, his thumb brushing against her lower lip. He didn't answer her, but the shadows in his eyes answered her question.

Ellie turned her head, pressing a kiss against the palm of his hand. She wanted to tell Chris that it would be ok. But she knew it might not be for him. She had seen the way the last deployment had ripped through the men.

"I'll be here," she said instead. "When you get back, I'll be here for you."

Chris stiffened. He pulled away. "Ain't askin' you for that. Don't."

Ellie propped herself up on one elbow, the sheets falling away from her shoulders. "You didn't ask for anything," she acknowledged. "But you don't have to go through any of this alone."

Chris' jaw tightened. Ellie tilted her head, trying to show him how deeply she cared for him, cared for the entire team of men like they were her own family.

"I'm not asking for a commitment," she said lightly, the hint of a smile pulling at her lips. "And I'm not giving you one."

Chris looked at her then. "I'm just telling you, Chris, that I'll always be here for you. No matter what."

Chris swallowed hard.

Ellie moved to safer ground, not wanting to make things awkward. Or at least, not more awkward than sleeping with her brother's best friend already could be. She moved so she was pressed against the length of him.

"We won't talk," she said, offering him the safety of silence. She leaned into him, speaking against his lips. "We don't have to say anything."

#

Chris pulled down a mug and poured the fresh brewed coffee into it. He heard the shower turn off and turned his attention to the bacon sizzling on the stovetop. He only had a few more days to use up the rest of the food in his fridge. The thought made his gut churn.

He heard Ellie come into the kitchen while he was putting the scrambled eggs and bacon on plates, adding toast before he set them on the table.

"Look at you, all domesticated," Ellie said with her familiar teasing grin. She took the plate with an appreciative sniff.

Chris didn't know what to do, what to say around her. He never should have let things happen the way they did. And he was completely in the wrong to not have stopped it after his first night of weakness. Instead, he had spent the day in bed with Ellie, then another night before she had to go to work yesterday. And he had been weak again last night.

"Hey," Ellie said, breaking into his thoughts. The look in her hazel eyes, a mix of golds and greens, said she knew exactly what he was thinking. "I'm a big girl, Chris. You're not going to hurt me."

The way she cut straight to the heart of things had been something he had always appreciated about her. But now it scared him, hearing her so easily assure him she could jump in bed with him and then walk away. Not because he didn't want to lose her. He firmly told himself that wasn't the issue. It was because he didn't want to think of Ellie, with her easy smiles and tender heart, hardening herself to do just that because of him.

"Chris," she said. "Let's eat."

Chris took a chair and Ellie sat in the chair next to him, leaning back in it and propping her feet up in his lap. She gave him a look that dared him to move her feet and Chris felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease. He even found his mouth twitching in what was as close to a smile as he had come in a long time.

Ellie insisted on helping him with the dishes before he drove her back to her car, still parked at the bar they had left together the night before.

"Ellie," he said when she opened the door to get out.

She stopped and turned back to him. Chris struggled to find the words, not even sure what he wanted to say. To tell her they couldn't let this happen again? To tell her he'd see her tonight?

Ellie pressed her soft hand against his face and leaned across the seat to give him a kiss, one that lingered with him even when she pulled away.

"Have a good day," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Chris watched to make sure she got in her car and got it started before pulling out.

He would make sure he kept his distance from Ellie. She deserved more than what he could give her. More than what he could give anyone.

#

Josiah followed the nurse down the long corridor. He could hear the low hum of conversation from the open doors. Farther down the hall someone shouting, footsteps running, and then crying.

He wanted to run. But he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't turn his back on her.

He followed the nurse all the way to a sunny day room at the end of the building, scanning the men and women seated at tables until he saw the familiar reddish hued hair at the far end of the room, on a sofa, her back to him.

"Hannah," the nurse said.

The young woman turned, blue eyes looking their direction. When her eyes landed on Josiah, she didn't light up the way he would have hoped for. Instead she pressed her lips together, uncertainty flitting across her delicate features.

"I'll be right over there if you need anything, Hannah," the nurse said.

"Thank you, ma'am," Josiah said to the nurse. She gave a nod and walked away, her cushioned shoes quiet on the floor.

Josiah moved in front of the couch and stood. Hannah looked up at him, uncertainty giving way to shame. She looked away.

"Hi Hannah," he said.

She moved her lips in what may have been a soundless greeting.

"Can I sit?" he asked.

Hannah hesitated, then nodded, shifting slightly so she had some more distance between them.

Her pale hands were in her lap, fingers twisting together. The sleeve of her long sleeve t-shirt crept up and Josiah saw the scars, fading now, but still there, evidence of the slash marks across her wrists. Cuts she had sliced herself. She saw where his eyes had landed and tugged her sleeves down to cover them.

Josiah dropped his eyes, but they only landed on her slip on shoes, no laces. No belts, nothing that could be used to harm oneself in this facility.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," Josiah said. Now that he was here, he wished he would have come sooner. Gone to see her before she ended up here. Been there for her.

"You've been busy," she said. Her voice was quiet, raspy like it got little use. "A big Navy hero." She smiled slightly.

"Just a chaplain," Josiah said. A chaplain and a brother. A brother who had failed his sister. Hannah.

"A chaplain's a hero in his own way," Hannah said. "A chaplain, a pastor, a missionary." Hannah's lips moved in what was supposed to be a smile, but was more of a grimace. Josiah knew her thoughts had moved to their father.

"Has he visited?" Josiah asked.

Hannah shook her head quickly. "He's busy," she said, quickly making an excuse for their father like she always did. "They're putting an addition onto the church. Expanding to two services. And…" she glanced at him before her cheeks flushed with shame. "He can't see me here. Let anyone know his daughter is crazy."

"You're not crazy," Josiah said firmly. Although, if she was, it wouldn't be her fault. Living with a hard man like their father was enough to drive anyone to insanity. Or worse, he thought, looking at her wrists again.

"Tell me about you," Hannah said, changing the subject. "Are you home for awhile?"

Josiah shook his head. "We ship out again at the end of the week."

Any light that had been in Hannah's eyes dimmed.

"But I'll write. And call. Tell you all about how bad the food is. And how much I miss you."

Hannah nodded. She forced a smile. "I'm so glad I can see you before you go."

She didn't say it, and Josiah knew his sister didn't have a vindictive bone in her body—had never had a vindictive thought in her nineteen years—but Josiah knew his absence had been noticed.

He had stayed away because he didn't know if he reminded Hannah of their father. His chosen profession, his commitment to the faith their father proclaimed, if any of that would make it worse for Hannah to see him. And, the knowledge dug at his conscience, because he wasn't sure he could stand to see his sister like this. Committed. Locked away in a mental health facility by their father 'for her own good'.

"You'll be the first person I see when I get back," he promised her.

Hannah nodded.

Josiah could only hope she would still be whole when he came back from their deployment in too many months from now.

#