A Candle for a Marine (Always a Marine) Read Free Page A

harm.”
    Uncomfortable with how close her description struck, Isaac dragged his attention away from her. She’d matured beautifully. The softness of her features had taken on an aristocratic bearing, but she was too thin, and her mouth too lush.
    “It’s good work,” he repeated. So many words bottled up in his throat and threatened to choke him. “I should get going.” He gave her a quick, abrupt smile, the action physically painful, and jogged toward the fence. The sooner he got the hell away, the better for both of them.
    “Isaac.”
    The sound of his name tripping off her lips locked him in place. He kept his attention fixed beyond the gate. Home for only a few days, he could make this work if he kept the contact minimal.
    “Yes?” He canted his head, turning an ear toward her, and refusing to look. Not when he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to kiss her or throttle her. The level of violence shivering in his muscles appalled him, one match away from erupting.
    “Hanukkah begins this week.”
    “I know. It’s why I came home.” Confusion flickered through him.
    Her shoe scuffed on the blacktop. She came closer, and he fought in vain against turning. “I know it’s the first time in years….”
    Don’t bring it up.
    “And I’m probably the last person you want to talk to….”
    For the love of all that’s holy, leave it alone . His head began to ache from clamping his teeth together.
    “I’m expecting a lot of kids are going to be here this week. The neighborhood is full of single mothers, fathers, and their kids who need a place to spend Hanukkah. I’m going to light the menorah for them each evening at dusk. They’d love to meet you. You’re a hero for so many and maybe—maybe you’d like to spend some time here, too. Help out.” Her voice drifted away, and he pivoted slowly.
    He wanted to walk the hell away and keep his mouth shut. The hesitation remained in her eyes, yet he also glimpsed hope. Faint, but there, in the liquid dark depths.
    “Are you asking me if I want to spend my first Hanukkah at home with your pseudo-children since you gave away ours?”
    Once the words were out, he couldn’t take them back and with his attention locked on her, he couldn’t miss the verbal lash striking its mark. Regret filtered through his fury. He wasn’t sure who angered him more. Her for what she did, or him because he never stopped loving her and hating her for it.
     
     
    Ouch . The barb sank deep and raked her emotions over the coals. She shouldn’t have been surprised by the strength of the sting, but it didn’t diminish the impact. Zehava absorbed the words and the pain, letting both sink through her until they reached the marrow of her bones. The whip crack of fury from anyone else would be met in kind, however she believed Isaac deserved his pound of flesh. And she’d give him this one. Only the one.
    Her next words would need to be chosen carefully. She studied him, the rise and fall of his chest, the snapping anger in his eyes, and the way his jaw clenched and unclenched. His hands curled into fists and released. Rage radiated in the air around him, a simmering, shimmering heat. He said nothing else, didn’t move in her direction or threaten.
    The man had a right to his anger, even his hate, though it pained her more than she wanted to admit. She’d found peace with her decision long ago.
    “The neighborhood children, the boys in particular, see you as their own personal hero. You made a hard choice. You have seen darkness and you have returned.”
    Surprise bled away some of his tension. So much of the boy she’d loved remained in the man before her. Despite his anger, she sensed no danger from him. Every other conversation they’d had on the subject of their child had been over the phone, or via two agonizingly long letters.
    “It shouldn’t come as any great surprise to you. They admire you, from your determination to make something else for your life to your dedication to