out. If you go another little bit up the road, you'll see a small house. My folks stay there when they're in town.”
Dani glanced up the road and stared for a while before turning back to study him. “So why did you decide not to settle here?”
The question was expected, but still he was surprised Dani ventured into the personal. “Long story,” he replied with what he hoped was a careless shrug.
“Let me guess,” she half smiled at him. “Some girl broke your heart? Shattered your dreams of settling down?” she teased. As cliché as it was, it was also the truth.
“More or less,” he responded.
Her eyes studied his face. Then her eyebrows raised in curiosity, prompting him.
“I was engaged to a woman I grew up with,” he complied. “We planned to marry when I discharged. A couple of months after I got out, she died.”
Dani's head drew back in surprise and, for the first time, he saw her expression soften.
“I'm sorry…I didn't,” she paused, shook her head and gave a small, self-deprecating smile. “I was going to say I didn't know, but that's a pretty dumb thing to say. Of course I didn't know,” she paused again and Ty sensed that her statement meant more than what she was saying. “I am sorry though, Ty. It must have been difficult.”
Ty hadn't come here to rehash the events of five years ago, but he found himself wanting to talk about it. He wasn't sure if it was because it had been a while since he had done that or because he and Dani were actually talking. Her dark eyes fixed on him and he held her gaze as he continued.
“It was. It's not uncommon for military spouses and significant others to need a stress outlet. The leaves are so long, the tension is always high. Many turn to people outside of the relationship to make things better.
“She sought out distractions and entertainment from her friends. She looked to them to help her deal with the stress. I didn't even know the crowd she was spending time with,” he turned away from Dani and stared out toward the trees, which were starting to bud in the mid-May weather.
“I don't know that it would have made much of a difference even if I did know them. I think, by that point, she probably wouldn't have listened to me anyway.” He glanced back at Dani who was standing with her hands resting in the pockets of her jacket, her expression thoughtful, not pitying.
“Anyway,” he sighed, turned, and continued. “One night she got in a car with a couple of friends who were both drunk and high. I don't know if Carrie ever partook of the drugs, but I do know that the night she died, she didn't have a thing in her system that would have impaired her. A couple minutes after leaving a bar, the driver wrapped the car around a tree. No one survived.”
“Jesus, Ty. I'm sorry,” Dani said. They were quiet for a few minutes and then Dani asked, “Is that why you went into vice?”
He shook his head. “No, I'd planned that long before coming here. I'd seen enough dead bodies during my tours that I knew I didn't want to go into homicide. I figured vice was the best way to try and help save people.” He knew his grin was an uncomfortable one, but he'd never admitted this to anyone before. Not even his parents. “I figured if I could help keep the drugs off the street, then maybe that would mean one less OD, one less body, one less family with one less member.”
“I like that reason,” she replied. Her voice was soft and personal.
Ty felt a wave of tension leave his body and his breath fall back into rhythm. After such a short time, not even twenty-four hours, her acceptance, her approval shouldn't mean much. But it did.
They were quiet for a few more minutes and then Dani asked, “You don't blame yourself do you?”
Surprised at the question, Ty turned and searched her eyes. There was an odd expression on her face, maybe a little sympathetic, maybe a little worried, and maybe a little something like curiosity. Ty frowned and shook his head.
“I did, but I got over it.”
Dani muttered something that sounded like “good for you,” but she wasn't looking at him so it was hard to tell.
“Strange enough,” he continued, his brow furrowed in thought. “It was her parents who absolved me. For