Summer of Love Marie Ferrarella (easy books to read in english TXT) 📖

the individual soldier … it affected everyone around them, as well. “I didn’t talk about my problems much. And for a long time I didn’t realize that something could be done.”

Jessi finally spoke up. “You had PTSD?”

“No. My dad did. It was back when I was in high school.”

Differing emotions flickered through her eyes. Sadness. Shock. Then finally the one he’d hoped never to see: guilt.

“Clint, I—” Her tongue flicked across her lips. “You never told any of us.”

“Would you have?”

He knew she’d catch the inference. That her father—a tough army boot-camp instructor—had been vehement in his opposition to her being involved with anyone in the military. After Mrs. Spencer’s words, he now wondered if it was because Jessi’s dad and the entire base had witnessed the hell his mom had gone through because of his dad. Because of the way he’d used the bottle to blot out the demons related to his war deployment. It hadn’t worked. He’d just created a living hell for everyone around him. Clint wouldn’t want any daughter of his to go through what his mom had on a daily basis.

Whatever Mr. Spencer’s reasons, it had ended up saving Clint’s hide down at that creek. It—and his enlistment papers—had given him the perfect out for leaving Richmond. He’d jumped at the excuse, although he now realized that’s all it had been. An excuse. He’d been afraid of his dad and for his dad. Had run away from the possibility that he might turn out to be just like him. But most of all, he hadn’t wanted anyone to know the shame he’d felt.

The irony was, they had known, according to Abigail.

“No,” Jessi said. “I wouldn’t have shared my secrets with just anyone.”

The hint of accusation in her voice was unmistakable. Because she had shared her secret with someone: him. But he hadn’t returned the favor by telling her his. Maybe because he hadn’t wanted to add any more to her plate. Maybe because the only thing he’d wanted at the time had been to erase the pain in her eyes.

Instead, he’d ended up making love to her and adding to his long list of sins. Which included leaving her the very next day. He’d thought it was to protect her.

Not that it had done any good. Jessi’s own daughter was now struggling with trauma related to her military service, so he hadn’t ended up protecting her from anything. Just his own ugly past and uncertain future.

Little had she known back then that he had harbored a secret crush on her. Maybe it had been part of the whole badass, wanting-to-redeem-himself syndrome. The same reason he’d enlisted. A need to redeem himself and maybe even his father—or at least to make peace with what had happened.

Clint’s job, though, had turned into a passion he just couldn’t shake. In some small measure he had redeemed himself. Each time he was able to help an emotionally wounded soldier have a shot at a normal life, he was somehow giving his father the help he’d never received when he’d been alive. And in doing that—Clint flexed his damaged finger again—he helped protect their sons and daughters.

Abigail broke into his thoughts. “I really am sorry. I just assumed that Jessi knew, since you went to school together.”

They’d done more than just that. Which was something he could not—would not—think about right now. Not with her mom sitting there, looking more than a little mortified.

“It’s fine …”

“Don’t worry …”

He and Jessi spoke at exactly the same time, which caused everyone to laugh and broke the tension instantly. Even Cooper gave a quick woof of approval.

And although he’d been the one to say, “Don’t worry,” he was worried. More than a little. Because every time he caught Jessi watching him, his gut slid sideways.

“I have some peach ice cream for dessert,” Abigail said, “if anyone wants some.”

He glanced down at his watch. Almost nine. He could safely take off and claim to have survived the evening. “Thank you, but I probably should be heading home. I have an early morning tomorrow.”

He pushed his chair back, dislodging Cooper from his foot in the process. The dog’s nails clicked on the hardwood floor as he slid from beneath the table and pressed his cheek against Clint’s calf. Reaching down, he scratched behind the animal’s ears.

“Are you sure?” Abigail asked.

“Yes, unless there’s something I can do to help clean up.”

She smiled. “Not a thing.” A quick frown puckered her brow. “I almost forgot. When can I see Chelsea? I don’t want to set her treatment back, but if I can just spend a minute or two with her to assure myself that she’s really—”

“Of course.” He glanced at Jessi for confirmation. “How about if we make it for the next time Jessi and I meet with her? Friday at three?”

Jessi nodded her approval. “It’s okay with me. I want to talk to you a little bit about her condition first, though, okay, Mama? I don’t want you to be shocked by what she might say … or not say.”

“I wasn’t born yesterday. I know it’s bad. I just want to see her.”

“I’ll pick you up on my way home from work, then. We can go together.” She kissed her mother on the cheek, something that made Clint’s chest tighten. Despite Mr. Spencer’s heavy-handed ways, this had been a house of love. It was obvious the two women were close. And he was glad. Glad that her teenage angst hadn’t left any lasting scars.

His arthritic pinky creaked out a warning shot when he curled his hand around the chair to push it back in.

“Thanks again for dinner, Mrs. Spencer.”

“You’re very welcome, and I’m glad you came. I already feel better.”

As he started for the door, he was surprised to find Jessi right behind him. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

He opened the door, forgetting about Cooper. The dog bounded out before he could stop him.

“It’s okay,” Jessi said. “He does it to everyone. He won’t go