Page 86 of Second Song

“You sure that’s the same lamb?” This one is nothing like the scrawny newborn he once clung to. “She’s bloody massive.”

Her owner leans on the gate next to me. “That’s because she’s about six months old now. But yeah, that’s her.”

“How can you tell?”

Noah grins. “Watch.” His whistle is a shrill surprise. I cover an ear while a trio of sheepdogs come to sharp attention.

So does Rowan’s runaway, not-so-little, bleater.

The farmer I came here to visit laughs. “Cute, right? She spends so much time in the yard with Noah, she thinks she’s one of the dogs.” He lands a huge hand on Noah’s shoulder. “Show Liam what else she can do.”

Noah whistles again, and there she goes, shooting off like a fluffy bullet to join the dogs. They circle this herd tightly in a reminder of how I used to circle the West Country. I can laugh too, now that I’ve stopped the same endless wheeling. “She’s smart.” She’s also nosy, trotting over to the gate, and I go to snap a photo, only my phone screen shows a message.

Matt: Train’s running late, Sexy. See you later.

I can live with that. Another message pings in from a second soldier, and my heart stops.

Neck Brace: Row’s spinning out.

About today?

He’s changed his mind about setting the whole world straight about what happened to him?

I straighten up, ready to get circling like that lamb, because if pulling out is his final decision, I’ll defend Rowan’s choice or die trying.

Only, he’d been so sure this morning.

Another message kicks my heart back into beating.

Neck Brace: He can’t find his whistle.

Now this is something I can help with. “Sorry, Stef. I need to go.” I gesture at an almost tumbledown building behind us. “I’ll be in touch, but?—”

“You’re needed.” He backs away. “No worries. Come back anytime if you want to take a longer look at the site. Help yourself if we’re not here.”

“Thanks, I will.” For now, I head back to the van, then to Glynn Harber and a bridge I once thought I’d have to rebuild single-handed. One of the men who helped me with it meets me in the car park.

“You found it?” Neck Brace must have got too close to Charles—he’s speckled with glitter. He’s also concerned, and I wish I could turn back time six months. I’d show a past version of Rowan how quickly my pack circled him with caring. I guess I could show past-me the same visual. I still don’t have words for what staying in Cornwall has rebuilt for me, even if it did take more than one library demolition for me to feel truly forgiven.

Not by Blake for the loss of his brother.

I was the one who needed to forgive myself for Benji. And that’s why this bridge took so long to finish. We all spent more time reminiscing than rebuilding.

Today, we’re joined by another soldier. Ed’s hair is still damp from the morning surf we usually share, but I skipped today to make my site visit. He’s been good company in the water between my crew’s visits, someone to catch waves with and to sit with in silence while the ocean washed away a few last, clinging, guilty cobwebs. “Crisis averted?”

“I’ve got it.” I waggle the whistle I found under Rowan’s pillow.

“Good. But maybe he won’t even need it.” Ed’s eyes twinkle. “Not now that Blake’s keeping the kids occupied with stories all about you.”

I hurry again then, parting tree boughs to step into a brand-new clearing beside trickling water just as a second-born twin addresses the kids gathered on one side of the bridge. His speech might as well be aimed at my side of the water.

“Today, we’re all here to celebrate, aren’t we?” The kids cheer, waving homemade shakers. A sunbeam finds Blake and turns his red hair fiery. “I used to feel bad about celebrating because someone I missed a lot couldn’t share that feeling with me. But if my brother Benji were here today, do you know what he’d tell me?”

Little Hadi is at the front of the crowd, shaking his head as Blake continues.

“He’d tell me to let myself be happy enough for two people. Or for three or four missing people. For however many people there are who can’t be with us today.” He steps aside, and there’s Rowan, who almost staggers when Blake grips his shoulder and gives it a shake. I’ve been on the receiving end of plenty of this gentle giant’s gestures, so I bet his teeth rattle.

Blake does exactly what his brother was always so good at, making sure no one’s left out. “We can still celebrate even without your whistle, can’t we?” He focuses again on the crowd of children. “How about we all sing?”

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