Just One Night Together (Flatiron Five Fitness #3) - Deborah Cooke Page 0,86
of his mom’s career, the obituary had been picked up by the larger papers. The priest expected a full house, but Damon didn’t care about that.
There was only one person he wanted to see.
Then a guy walked into the church and Damon was so completely surprised that he thought his eyes were deceiving him. Was that Nate Buchanan? It couldn’t be. The man in question waved his right hand, giving Damon a two-fingered salute. His hand was gloved.
Because it was a prosthesis.
Buchanan had come—even though Damon hadn’t answered his messages. Damon was astonished and humbled by his presence.
His throat was tight.
Ty and Shannyn led the F5F team into the church, Kyle and Lauren hand-in-hand behind them. Cassie was with Theo, all of them dressed in black. Meesha, Jax and Sonia had come, as well, which awed him. They came straight to Damon and gathered behind him, like his support staff. Cassie kissed his cheek and Kyle gave him an impromptu hug. Jax shook his hand and Sonia kissed his cheek. Meesha gave him such a hug that it was practically a tackle.
“We can stay with you or step back,” Ty said and Damon indicated the first pew.
“I’d be glad to have you with me,” he said, his voice thick.
The church was standing room only by the time the service began. The priest had suggested that Damon gather pictures of his mom when she was healthy, and Damon had created a collage, which was at the altar. In the middle was a drawing he’d done of her years before, laughing with her usual abandon. He kept his gaze fixed on it during the service, not really hearing the words, filling his mind with memories. There were flowers from friends and the lilies had a strong sweet scent. They celebrated communion, because his mom would have preferred it, and when the service was done, people came to speak to him.
Damon was overwhelmed by their kindness.
His mom’s neighbors were out in force, and several of them promised him casseroles and fresh baking. Some of them had already dropped off food for him. Mrs. O’Toole from the dance academy hadn’t changed much and she gripped his hands as she remembered the days of his mom tutoring little girls. There were younger women who had been those little girls, very few of them dancers now but all of them with perfect posture and their eyes filled with tears. There were ladies from the church and retired professional dancers who he vaguely remembered from his childhood. To his amazement, many of the kids from Zeke’s gym had come to give their condolences to him and he was impressed to see what fine men they’d become.
And last of all, there was Nate Buchanan, a familiar twinkle in his eyes. Damon remembered how this guy could find the silver lining in any thunderhead.
“I’m sorry, Damon,” he said and offered his hand. Damon didn’t know what to do, since Nate’s right hand was the prosthesis. Nate just shook his head. “You can’t break it, bro,” he said.
Damon shook his hand, then met Nate’s gaze. “I am so sorry.”
“Why? It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was...”
“No, Damon, it was not your fault,” Nate interrupted, his tone stern. “You didn’t make the grenade, you didn’t pull the pin, and you didn’t chuck it at us.”
“But Foster...”
“Knew exactly what he signed up for. We all did.” Nate’s gaze was steely. “The best team I ever worked with was you and Foster. I miss him every day, but I don’t regret that we served our country and gave our best. He gave his life doing what he loved, and I don’t think he would regret it.”
“I regret losing him.”
“It’s amazing we weren’t all lost. It was because of you.”
“No. I was the one who reminded him of R.O.E.”
“You were the one who kicked that sucker away. If Foster hadn’t jumped in the same direction because of that enemy fire, he would have been fine.”
Damon frowned. “I don’t remember the enemy fire.”
“Because you took a hit to your helmet. Don’t you remember, Damon? You went down, but you kicked the grenade as you fell. I grabbed you and jumped out of the way. Foster jumped in the other direction. It was just rotten luck that the grenade went the same way he did. It could have been either of us or all three of us.”
“But your hand. That was the grenade.”
“No, that was the enemy fire. Foster took all of the grenade.”