“Sure. Whatever. Grab a burger if they’ve got one. Thank you, Private.”

  “Your servant.” Reynolds backed out of the tent with a bow and a sloppy salute.

  “You bow one more time and I’ll write you up.”

  “Can’t hear you...” Reynolds’s voice drifted off on the wind.

  Mac grinned. If they weren’t in Afghanistan, if they hadn’t been without leave for so long, and if Reynolds weren’t so damn efficient, Mac wouldn’t put up with the private’s cavalier approach to officer vs enlisted protocol. He ran a tight ship. A fair one but tight. Reynolds – well Reynolds was ‘that’ guy who always walked the line between crossing over the edge to damn near perfect soldiering. So he let the occasional breech of protocol go. Especially since Reynolds – again – was ‘that’ guy, the one who kept up morale among the troops and the officers if truth be told.

  With a shake of his head, he grabbed a form off the stack Reynolds had left and dug back into his work.

  It had been a full month earlier, on another boring and typical day, that Ian had surprised him by poking his head into his tent.

  “Need an extra body for patrol tonight?”

  One of Mac’s biggest gifts during this deployment had been when Ian Hughes had stopped by that day. He’d always known it was a possibility that their deployment locations would coincide – both of them were infantry and both were officers – but he’d still been more than mildly shocked when Ian had walked into his tent.

  “Well, look what the sandstorm blew in.” Grinning, he’d gotten up from behind his desk, saluted Ian’s higher rank of captain, then drawn him into a heartfelt hug. “You just never know who’s going to show up in your neck of the dust bowl.”

  “Lookin’ good for an old married man with a kid.” Ian grinned at Mac. “How long’s it been?”

  “Too long. Not that I mind, but what are you doing here?”

  “Pulled a string here, tugged one there. Next thing I know I’m here at the TOC and my request to get out among the men to check on morale is approved. So how’s your morale, Lt.?”

  “Better now that I see your ugly face. Reminds me how good lookin’ I am.”

  It had always been so easy between them. Like brothers. Insults, barbs, and laughter. And they’d always had each other’s backs.

  After that day, they’d managed to carve out an hour here, a couple of hours there of downtime to shoot the breeze and reminisce.

  But when Ian had shown up on that particular day – the one that had ended up with him charged with murder – Mac was on duty.

  “Damn,” he said after glancing at his watch. “I hate this but I’m going to have to beg off tonight. I’m due to lead patrol in the village in about five ticks.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll tag along.”

  Mac had done a double take. “Seriously?”

  “Why not? I’m not above a little counter insurgency and I hear you’re making end rows in that area. It’s not easy getting the local population on our side in some of these wild places. I could use a lesson or two.”

  “In that case, it’ll be great to have you along.”

  Having Ian join his patrol that night for a walk-about had made him as happy as hell. He’d loved the chance to work with his old friend.

  Back in the day, after Ian had graduated with honors from West Point, and after Mac had gone the enlisted route to officer training school path, they’d both decided to tackle Ranger School. Those grueling weeks had tested their physical as well as their mental and emotional endurance and further tightened their bond. Through everything, they’d shared the victories, both large and small. Though the defeats were few, they’d shared them, too. And when they’d found out Rachael was pregnant with Addie, Ian had been their first and only choice as her godfather…

  …The thought of Addie jarred Mac abruptly back to the present. And his small cell. The regrets. The loneliness. The missing her and Rachael.

  He closed his eyes. Rolled over in his cot. Forced his mind back to that night and Afghanistan. Yeah. Having Ian along on that patrol had been damn fine. Until Mac had been branded a killer. And Ian had had the bad fortune to be tagged by the brass as a witness.

  Chapter Four

  Rachael was still in shock several hours after she’d returned from seeing Mac. She was so deep in thought as she went through the motions of throwing in a load of laundry, unloading the dishwasher, and picking up Addie’s toys, that it took a few moments for the commotion outside her front door to register. The press was on the attack again, like hyenas pouncing on fresh meat. Ian must have arrived.

  She squeezed the door open. As the reporters yelled questions, she stood aside for him to enter then slammed and locked it behind him.

  Ian quickly shrugged out of his coat and tossed it in the general direction of the hall tree. He was dressed in his BDU. And it stung all over again that Mac wasn’t allowed to wear his.

  He opened his arms. “Come ‘ere.”

  She collapsed against him. Clung to him as he drew her into a huge bear hug.

  Lord, she’d needed a friend. Someone who’d always been there. Someone who would always be there. Someone she could trust. His strength and his heat and his familiar voice wrapped around her like insulation to block out the cold, harsh nightmare of this last week. His easy way made her feel safe. Led her back to better times. When the three of them had been together.

  And the smell of him. Oh, how she remembered the smell of Mac’s uniform. And his aftershave. His man scent. Ian brought all those familiar scents home to her.

  She clung even longer … to this rock-solid steady man who had been a constant in both her life and Mac’s from a time she remembered as though it were yesterday. She let the memory warm her as he held her…

  … A group of ‘mean’ girls had cornered her in the playground at school, surrounded her in a circle. They’d called her all the names she hated back then. Freckle-face, Small fry, Carrot Top, Squirt, Red Riding Hood.

  Red, red, go to bed, don’t wake up unless you’re dead.

  Harmless, unless you were the new girl, five years old and small for your age. Add in shy and wanting to make friends with girls who mocked you for your size and your mop of copper red hair, and the words cut deep.

  She was on her knees in the middle of the circle they’d formed around her, head down, crying when she first heard Mac’s and Ian’s voices above the chanting.

  “Leave her alone!”

  “Go pick on someone your own size!”

  The chanting stopped abruptly. Then she heard the scurry of many feet on sand as the circle dispersed and the girls ran off screaming.

  She still hadn’t looked up. She’d been embarrassed and ashamed and certain that whoever had chased off the girls would turn out to be another form of cruelty and ostracism.

  “Hey. You down there,” One boy said. “It’s okay. They’re gone.”

  “You can get up now.” A different voice. “Need some help?”

  Not what she’d expected. Still, she’d been mortified. “Go away.”

  “Not ‘til we know you’re okay.”

  “Yeah. Come on. Gimme your hand.”

  Finally she’d looked up. Saw them. Both tall. One with short dark brown hair. One with messy, blond curls. Both looked non- judgmental. Both held out their hands.

  The moment she’d finally decided to trust them and had reached out and latched on to their hands, a bond had been formed that was still as strong today...

  “Ian. Thank God, you’re finally here,” she said, pulling herself back to the moment.

  He hugged her closer. “Got here as soon as I could.”

  “I know you did.” She reluctantly pulled away from his comforting embrace and met his eyes. “That wasn’t a criticism. I’m just so glad you came.”

  His dark brows pinched together, and he cut a glance toward the door. “Good Lord, Red. Is it always like this?”

  “The press?” She hugged herself. “Yeah. Ever since the news got out and they found our address.”

  “Vultures.”

  “Well put.” She gave him a weary grin. “How are you?” she followed up quickly. “Have you eaten? Are you hungry?”

  “Same old, Red. Always worrying about someone else.” He waved her off. “I’m fine. The question is how are you holding up?”

  Darn tears. She blinked them back. Pulled it together. “Day by day. It’s Mac I’m worried about.”

  She motioned him to follow her into the living room then sat down heavily on one end of the sofa. He followed and sat on the opposite end.

  “Mac’s tough,” he assured her. “He’ll handle it. He shouldn’t have to but he’ll get through this. We’ll make sure.”

  She looked at him then. He looked good. Tired from the long flights, but good.

  Like Mac, Ian Hughes was a stunningly attractive man. He was very much like Mac physically. The hair, of course, was different – Mac was blond and Ian’s hair was a dark, leather brown – and Mac’s eyes were blue like Addie’s, where Ian’s were a deep, melting chocolate. But the intelligence and drive both men possessed shined through with no reservation, no apology. Also like Mac, Ian was tall and lean and muscled in a way that only the U.S. Army’s physical endurance tests and routines could produce.

  She knew he’d only just flown into Manhattan this afternoon. When he’d called to let her know, she’d offered to pick him up at the airport but he’d insisted on renting a car.

  Secretly she’d been glad he had. Anything to avoid facing that mob outside.

  “This is so unfair to you,” she said unable to contain her thoughts.

  “Don’t even go there.” Ian met her concern with a determined nod. “We’ll deal with it.”

  Because there was no changing anything at this point, she fell silent, knowing that Mac had asked Ian to look out for her. Also knowing that if it took moving heaven and earth – and knowing the army, it probably had – Ian would be here. As soon as he’d been able to arrange it, he’d taken some long unused leave and flown back for Mac and for her, no matter that she’d tried to insist that he needed to distance himself from them, at least in public. He had a career to consider.

  For Ian’s sake, she wished he weren’t so selfless, while selfishly, she was grateful he was finally here to lean on. And the question, the one that had been burning in her mind ever since Mac had told her that Ian was an eyewitness … well, that could stay on hold for a little while. She needed a few minutes of comfort.

  When he picked up Addie’s empty sippy cup from the coffee table and grinned, she answered with her own smile. “How’s the little princess?”

  From the moment she’d been born, Ian had dubbed Addie ‘the Little Princess’. He’d even sent her a little crown and scepter and princess dress on her first birthday. “She’s fine. She’s amazing. She’s napping right now but she’ll be up soon and you can see her.”

  He held the sippy cup to his nose. Sniffed. “Apple juice?”

  “Vodka. She needed a loonnngg nap.”

  He laughed. “Good to know you’ve still got your sense of humor.”

  Until that moment, she wasn’t aware that she was still capable of cracking a joke.

  “You’re good for me,” she said simply and knew he understood when he gave her a sympathetic smile.

  “I don’t suppose you actually have any adult beverages in the house?”

  “I might.” She took the sippy cup from his hand. “Scotch, if I remember, right?”

  “I’ll take it in a glass. And if I promise not to spill, will you leave the lid off?”

  She laughed. Something she hadn’t done in a while either. Ian could always make her laugh. “Mac made sure we always had a bottle of your favorite label on hand in the event you showed up out of the blue. I’ll be right back.”

  She rose and walked to the kitchen then reached into the cabinet that held their small stash of liquor. And she let herself get a little melancholy about the past. She did that a lot lately. Let herself drift back to better times to offset the bad times they were experiencing now.

  It felt so right to have Ian here, in their home. The only thing wrong was that Mac was missing. Ian had been Mac’s best friend since forever and she’d made the pair a trio that day on the playground. After that, the three of them had been inseparable.

  When the guys had played football, she’d been a cheerleader. When they’d played baseball, she’d kept the team stats. They ran cross country for the boy’s team, she ran for the girls.

  Somewhere after adolescence and puberty, though, the dynamics had changed. She and Mac had discovered their feelings ran deeper than friendship. By senior year, they were in love.

  Small town Kansas meant that they’d all graduated high school together. Mac and Ian would have enlisted together, too, but Ian – the over- achiever of the trio – had been accepted to West Point. Mac wanted to go the Army route too but had insisted they get married right after graduation. So they had. After a brief honeymoon, he’d enlisted, but even with Ian at the academy in New York and Mac stationed at Ft. Riley, they’d never lost contact. Always celebrated their accomplishments long distance.

  She pinched back tears, braced her hands on the counter. She didn’t want to think about those happy times now but couldn’t stop the rush of more memories ...

  ...“2nd Lieutenant Samuel McKenzie, at your service, madam.” Mac breezed into their small rented house in the Manhattan suburbs, decked out in his dress uniform, his chest full of service and award ribbons, his smile relaying his happiness and pride of accomplishment.

  She flew into his arms, her grin as broad as his shoulders. “It’s official?”

  “Damn straight, it’s official! You’re married to your very own commissioned officer in the U.S. Army.”

  He had every right to be proud. He’d worked so hard, stood out from the crowd of enlisted soldiers, moved up in rank and caught his company commander’s attention very early on. When he’d been recommended for Officer Candidate School, he’d jumped on it and finished his online classes in record time. With honors.

  Her newly commissioned officer husband spun her around, lifting her off the ground with a laugh before lowering her slowly to the floor. Then he kissed her. Long and deep and with so much passion, it sent her heart racing.

  She felt like Debra Winger in “An Officer And A Gentleman,” laughing at herself for conjuring up the image of the classic old movie that she sometimes got Mac to watch with her, while he sputtered about the army being superior to the navy and ‘who wanted to watch a movie about a naval officer, anyway?’

  “This calls for a celebration, Lieutenant.” She gave him a flirty smile and holding his hand and his soulful, blue-eyed gaze, walked backward toward the bedroom, tugging him with her.

  “I love a woman who knows how to celebrate.” His sexy grin sent blood pooling deep in her belly. “But let’s Skype Ian first.”

  “Wait a minute, soldier.” She put on the skids. “Ian may have been best man at our wedding, but he’s a of couple thousand miles away, while my best man is right here. In the flesh. Deserving of a special…reward.”

  Oh, that grin. That heart-melting grin. He started loosening his tie. “I could go for a reward.”…

  …An involuntary smile tilted one corner of Rachael’s mouth as she filled a glass with ice then poured Ian a good measure of scotch. There had been a lot of teasing about priorities then as she’d unbuttoned Mac’s jacket and tugged it down his arms. Of course, he’d want to call Ian. But Ian didn’t get first billing that day. With a laugh, Mac had scooped her into his arms, carried her the rest of the way to the bedroom and proceeded to show her who and what this newly minted 2nd Lieutenant’s top priority was.

  A lifetime ago. Three years? Somewhere after that Mac had made 1st Lieutenant. Addie had been born. Now it was all a blur.

  He’d Skyped Ian much, much later that night, while she was still lying naked and deliciously ruined in their bed.She hadn’t always been first in Mac’s life but from the time they’d become a couple, Ian had slipped to a very close second. While Ian had been working toward his commission at West Point, Mac had worked away on a different path toward the same goal. She’d been busy becoming a new wife, taking pharmacy classes at Kansas State in Manhattan, and working part time at a local pharmacy as a clerk to pull in some extra money. So it was great that her two best guys had shored each other up as they’d tackled every test the Army had thrown at them, because some days, she was too tired to do more than fall in bed at night.

  Chapter Five

  Had it truly been ten years ago that they’d both started down their military career paths? Rachael wondered as she walked back into the living room with Ian’s drink. It seemed like a lifetime of hope and promise – but now suddenly, it was all disbelief and despair.

  “Here you go. One adult beverage in an adult glass. You don’t know how lucky you are that I had one clean.” She handed him the drink.

  “Just the way I like it,” Ian said after a long, slow swallow. “Man, I needed that.” He gave her a concerned look. “What about you? You look like you could use a stiff drink.”

  So much for hiding her feelings. “I look that bad, huh?”

  “No. No,” he repeated quickly, an apology in his voice. His eyes softened. “You look great, Red. You really do.”

  Trademark Ian. He knew how to make her feel better. “Well, I really don’t, but thanks anyway.”

  These mercurial mood swings upset her. One minute she was reminiscing about their idyllic past; the next, she was mired in the uncertain prospect of their future.

  She hadn’t been getting much sleep. And when she finally did fall asleep, often Addie would uncharacteristically wake up in the night crying. Poor baby knew that her momma was upset and that distress apparently had carried over to her.