A Soldier's Honour. Regan Black
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sleep and just wanted to make a plan,” she said briskly. “I’d like to tell Caleb before you tell anyone else.”
Was she asking for his permission or advice on breaking this news to their son? “Of course. How is he doing?” The last real-time conversation they’d had about Caleb was over three years ago, when he’d broken his wrist during a soccer game. Otherwise, she kept things vague, only sending Matt his school picture and occasional noteworthy updates about his grades or sporting successes.
Those small glimpses of Caleb had never been enough for him, yet he respected her wishes, her rules, because she’d given up everything to protect his place at West Point and, subsequently, his Army career. Time and again, he capitulated to the limits she set, because anything else made him feel grasping and whiny.
“He’s great,” she was saying. “I just don’t want him hearing this from anyone else. I’m not entirely sure how he’ll react,” she added.
“Has something changed?” The worry in her words felt like a knife twisting in his gut. This was only the second time he’d heard anything less than full confidence out of her. The first was when she’d been debating how best to be a mom and fulfill her career goals. “What’s going on with him?”
“Nothing,” she said a little too quickly. “Nothing’s changed. It’s still soccer and school, school and soccer. He’s a teenager, that’s all.”
Matt opened his mouth to push her, to make demands, but bit back the hard words. Instead he changed the subject. “Is he driving yet?” The query was a transparent attempt to learn if there was anything of him in his son.
“He’s studying for his learner’s permit. We’ll take care of that next week, while he’s on fall break.”
Matt remembered how excited he’d been for that same day as a kid. “Has he had any experience behind the wheel?” he asked, wondering if Caleb would have any interest or appreciation for the restored Camaro. Assuming they met.
“My dad has let him drive the four-wheeler on camping trips, and he’s let him drive the tractor on their property. I’m told he’s still pretty rough on the manual transmission, but he’s improving.”
“That’s good. It takes time,” he said. “You have enough set aside to buy him a car? I can send more money—”
“When that time comes, we’ll talk about it,” she said in a stern voice that bore a striking resemblance to Patricia Riley’s mom voice. “It’s still a good year or more away.”
He’d always believed the two women would get along well. They’d met once during a family day at West Point and seemed to hit it off, though his mom hadn’t known how vital Bethany was to him at the time. If she hadn’t forced him to keep Caleb a secret...well, now Matt had no idea what his mom might say or do when they met again.
And they would meet. Once Patricia learned about Caleb, she would be adamant about welcoming him into the Riley clan.
“Look, Matt, I called to make you aware of the creep-factor in this note,” she said. “I’ll report it to the security team at my office tomorrow.”
“Good.”
“Matt, I’d like you to be here.”
“At your office?” He held the phone back from his face as if that would clear up his confusion. “Huh?”
“When I tell Caleb, I would like you to be here with me. Us.”
His hand tightened around the phone. “You mean it?”
“Yes. I think it will help him understand if we’re telling him together. Help him feel valued and that we’ve always wanted what was best for him.”
He was going to meet his son. His heart hammered against his ribs. “Sure.” He had to find some real words. After all these years of wishing and wondering, he’d get to look his kid in the eyes, maybe even hug him or shake his hand. “Tell me when and where,” he managed at last. Too many emotions were warring for dominance. “I’ll be there.”
“Here, please. He’ll be home from practice around six and we could eat at seven.”
Matt was already doing the mental juggling over the drive time from Washington to her place in New Jersey, calculating how early he might need to leave work. He’d speak to General Knudson first thing in the morning, but there was no way he was missing that invitation.
“Once Caleb knows, you’ll be okay with me telling my parents?” he asked.
“I have to be, don’t I?”
He would have preferred the catalyst for meeting his son wasn’t her feeling cornered by some vague threat in a letter. Bethany didn’t have enemies, not like General Knudson or even his dad had. In careers as long and storied as theirs, enemies of several varieties began to stack up, from disgruntled soldiers to politicians, both local and abroad. He sighed. He could hear the conflict and misery in her voice. As much as he hated to give her a pass on this, he felt obligated.
“I can’t think of any reason anyone would target the three of us,” he said. “If you’d like to ride it out, we can. Whoever sent that threat will know soon enough there’s nothing to be gained. If you want to wait a bit before we have these conversations, I will respect that.”
“No.” Her voice was calm and steady, if not delighted by the prospect of tomorrow’s family dinner. “I’ve put this off long enough. I won’t risk him learning about this from another source.”
“All right.” Once more, he gave her full control, let her dictate how this played out. “I’ll be there at seven.”
“Thanks, Matt.”
“Thanks for the invitation.” She could have handled this mess alone and told Matt after it was done. She’d made it clear through the years that she could manage this parenting gig on her own.
He thought he heard a sniffle, but when she spoke, her voice was steady, if quiet. “I know this will change everything,” she began. “I only ask that it doesn’t change everything immediately. Caleb will need time to process this.”
“I understand.” She was warning him away from any abrupt changes over their custody agreement. “I’ve only ever wanted you and Caleb to be safe and happy.”
“Thanks for that,” she said, ending the call.
Matt held the phone to his chest. When he closed his eyes and thought of her, he still saw the athletic young woman he’d met when they were new cadets at West Point. Her big brown eyes had been full of nerves and excitement and eagerness for the challenges ahead. Like every cadet before him, he’d entered West Point with nothing more than his career on his mind.
Bethany had changed that. Success took on more meaning than simple pride in doing a job well for the sake of reaching his goals. She made him want to set and accomplish goals for the good of the team. Meeting her had made him a better person and student from that first day forward, though it hadn’t yet made him good enough for her to keep.
Matt reached up and turned out the light, but he couldn’t sleep. His mind flipped back and forth between the baseball lobbed at General Knudson and the creepy letter sent to Bethany. For both of them to get direct threats in the same twenty-four hour period made him question the motive behind the breach of the personnel records and who was buying the information.
Who would gain from exerting that kind of pressure? And how many other Military personnel and families were suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable tonight?
He read the reports as they came in with cautious optimism and rising confidence. His first warnings had been successfully delivered. Shots over the bow, so to speak, and now he waited to watch their response.
He imagined them scrambling, racing about in circles and jumping at shadows. They would chase the leads he gave them all the way to inevitable dead ends,