He shook his head again. “No.”
“Brennan, you prayed to the Goddess and I’m here; tell me.”
He glanced at us both again. “Why are your hands bound together?”
“It’s how faerie and the Goddess handfasted us,” I said.
“What does that mean, handfasted?”
“It means we are married, but with no official legalities.”
“The Goddess herself has wed us,” Sholto said. “It is the way all marriages were once between our kings and queens.”
I smiled at him and went up on tiptoe to offer him a kiss.
“Oh God,” Brennan said, and the sound was almost a sob.
I turned back to him. “What, what is it? What do you need so badly that you were about to shoot yourself?”
He looked at the gun in his hand as if he’d almost forgotten it. “It sounds too pathetic.”
“You brought us all the way from L. A.—the least you could do is tell us why,” I said.
He nodded as if that made sense to him. “Okay, okay, that’s fair.” He wrapped both hands around the gun, not like he was going to use it, but more like he was holding on to it as a sort of comfort object. He talked without looking at us.
“Jen is dating someone and it’s serious. He’s got money, a nice house, great career, hell, even his ex-wife says good things about him. They had a little girl and they seem to share the custody without getting all ugly the way most people do. Jen deserves someone that good. Someone who can give her all the things I can’t. Someone who isn’t crazy. Someone who doesn’t wake up in a cold sweat reaching for his gun.”
He looked at us then, and there was anguish in his face. “I could hurt her, by accident. I have flashbacks, nightmares. What if I lash out during one of them? I couldn’t stand it if I hurt her. I’d rather die than risk that.”
It was Sholto who moved forward and drew me with him. “So you’ve decided to kill yourself instead of telling this woman that you love her?”
Brennan looked startled, eyes too wide, and then he said, “No, she knows I love her. I told her, but I told her I was no good for her. I’m not good for anyone right now, not like this.”
“Did you find a counselor like we talked about when you visited us?” I asked.
“There’s a waiting list at the VA and I can’t afford it any other way. The farm is dying. My dad must be rolling in his grave seeing how Josh neglected this place.”
“Who’s Josh?” I asked.
“My brother, kid brother, he was supposed to hire people to work the land after Dad died, but he didn’t do anything. He finished his degree and got a good job, beautiful wife, baby. It’s like he’s turned against everything Dad taught us, or doesn’t want to be reminded where we came from. This land has been in our family for nearly four generations, and now we’re going to lose it to the bank, because my baby brother couldn’t be bothered to take care of it. He lied to me in his letters, on the phone, looking at his face over Skype, and he f**king lied to me, said it was handled. He was handling it.”
He laughed, but it was one of those laughs that was so bitter it needed a different word. “How can I drag Jen down with me? I’m about to lose everything. I can’t do that to her.”
“Does she have a job?” I asked.
“Her family owns a hardware store and a restaurant. She manages the store and helps out weekends in the restaurant.”
“How’s business?” I asked.
“Good, they’re doing good.”
“So, how would you drag her down with you? You’re not endangering her job or her family’s businesses, are you?” I asked.
“No, I mean her family are good people. Her dad offered me a job, but I know she made him do it.”
“Is it a job you can do?” Sholto asked.
Brennan looked at him, and then nodded. “Yeah, I mean I worked in their hardware store all through high school. I know the business.”
“Then maybe they need the help,” I said.
He seemed to think about that. He looked at the gun in his hand, and then at us, and finally at me. “I was about to shoot myself, you’re right, because I can’t save the family farm. I left a message on my brother’s phone telling him to take care of Cleo, the cat, and that I didn’t want to see the farm go to the bank.”
“You wanted to make sure he felt guilty and knew it was his fault,” I said.
“I guess I did. Goddess, that is pathetic.” He laid the gun on the side table. He looked up at us. “I guess I’m not going to kill myself today.”
I didn’t like the “today,” but one battle at a time. We’d worry about winning the war later.
“You going to help me save the family farm?” he asked.
I said, “I don’t think so. You weren’t thinking about money when you were praying just now.”
“The hell I wasn’t, I was thinking how to get enough money to save the farm.”
“Not when you prayed to me,” I said.
He frowned and touched the nail again, wrapped his hand around it in a familiar gesture. “I was thinking about Jen, and how much I loved her.”
“You called me with love, metal, and magic,” I said, smiling.
“Love, not blood, but love.”
The scent of roses and herbs was sweet and intense again. “Yes, Brennan, you called me, us, with love.”
“I smell roses and … a garden.”
“Take the job that Jen’s father offered you,” I said.
“I can’t do that to them. Jen is getting serious with a really great guy.”
“Better than you?” I asked.
“Not better than me, but better for her.”
“Is he stronger than you?” Sholto asked.
“No.”
“A better warrior?”
Brennan laughed again, but this time he was amused. “No.”
“Is he more attractive than you are?” I asked.
Brennan had to think about that one, but finally said, “We’re different, but he’s not bad looking. He’s handsome in a soft sort of way, if that makes sense?”
“It does,” I said.
“So you’re stronger, a better warrior, and both of you are equally handsome; how is he the better man?” Sholto asked.
“He’s got more money, a better career, and he’s not crazy.”
“Does she need his money?” I asked.
“No, Jen isn’t like that, and I told you her family is doing good. She’s practically running the hardware store on her own. That’s why her dad wanted me to come work with her; they can’t find good help.”
“Is she impressed with his career?” I asked.
He smiled. “No, not really. She says he’s too ambitious for her. He’ll want to move away and not stay, and she can’t leave her parents. She loves the store and the town, always has.”
“So, the only reason not to take the job, declare your love, and marry the woman is because you are crazy and the other man is not?” Sholto asked.
Brennan seemed to think about it again. “I guess so, but seriously I’m not safe.”
“Have you hurt anyone?” I asked.
“No, not yet.”
It was Sholto who said, “One of your soldier friends hurt someone.”
“How did you know?”
“So you have PTSD,” I said. “So do I, so do a lot of us, but we don’t all hurt people. We get therapy, we talk to our friends, our family, other soldiers, other survivors, and we heal. We find love.” I smiled up at Sholto.
There was a knock on the door, no, a pounding on the door, as if it had shut behind us as tightly as when we tried to open it. We heard someone running around the house, and then the screen door we’d seen at the end of the hallway banged open, and whoever it was came running down the hallway. I thought at first it would be the brother, but then a woman’s voice yelled, “Brennan, damn it, you better not be dead, or I am so going to kill you!”
Brennan stood up. “It’s Jen.”
Sholto and I stood there as a woman with short brunette hair came rushing into the room. She saw him, the gun on the table, and ran at him slapping his chest, finally slapping his face hard enough to rock him.