One Kind Hero (Heart of a Wounded Hero) by Christine DePetrillo

Author:Christine DePetrillo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: military hero, small town, contemporary romance, second chance romance, single mom, Vermont, wounded warrior
Publisher: Christine DePetrillo
Published: 2022-05-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Reid

Everything is different when you are a father. The air is fresher. The sky is bluer. The sun shines brighter. You have this built-in other person who thinks you’re awesome. At least at almost age ten he does. I’m sure that will change during the teen years. I recall giving Uncle Karl hell when I was a teenager.

But for right now, my son wants to be around me. We’ve spent the last few weeks getting to know each other better and I’m honestly wowed how much we have in common though I haven’t been around during his formative years. We both like baseball. I’ve attended every one of Ryan’s games since meeting him and have enjoyed watching him play.

Valerie was right too. My kid has some skill. He can hit. He can catch. He can throw. And he does it all with a big smile on his face as if he’s having the time of his life. I fucking love being around his energy. It’s made me stop dwelling on what I’ve lost. I haven’t spent most of each day feeling like shit about my injuries and the end of my sniper career. I feel brand new.

I’ve also taken Ryan out into the woods with our ghillie suits and a pair of high-powered binoculars. I hadn’t wanted to touch those binoculars before coming to Maplehaven. I’d only packed them for Vermont because they were too damn expensive to leave behind, but I hadn’t thought I’d want to use them. Using them with Ryan, however, has been a great way to connect the two parts of my life—my life in the Army before Ryan and my life in Maplehaven with Ryan. So far, we’ve done some grade-A birdwatching, identifying the different species with a book of Valerie’s.

“They’re called specimen,” Ryan told me when we spotted our first bird.

“Is that right?”

Ryan had nodded then opened the book in his lap while I looked at our specimen again through the binoculars. “That one is a Northern Flicker. You can tell because of the spotted belly and red feathers at the back of the specimen’s head.”

I’d pulled the binoculars from my eyes to look at him, impressed that he’d successfully identified the woodpecker. “You’re pretty smart.”

He’d held out his hand for the binoculars. “I hope we see a red-winged blackbird. They’re my favorite.” He’d squinted into the lenses. “Or any kind of owl. Mom loves them.”

That’s been the other thing I love about hanging out with my son. He’s always giving me intel about Valerie. Last week he’d said something about the brownies at Cups Café being her favorite. After I’d finished work at the sawmill for the day, I’d picked up a few and took them over to the organic market where Valerie was focused on sweeping up some construction debris.

I’d snuck up on her, held the café bag in front of her, and with one sniff she’d clapped and said, “Brownies!”

We’d enjoyed the snack together before I’d helped her with a few miscellaneous projects at the job site.

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