Ben’s arrest shocked the community. A hometown boy, Saul’s grandson. Saul immediately announced his retirement, shaken to the core about his grandson’s confessions.

Ginny sat in June’s office, heaving a sigh as she talked through her feelings. “I feel sorry for him, in a way. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but couldn’t seem to stop. And then his behaviors became more and more overt.”

Looking at June, she said, “I know this is part of his police report but, with our confidentiality, can I talk in here with you about it?”

“Absolutely,” June assured. “What is said in here, stays in here.”

“It seemed he was only a pre-teen when washing the windows of a woman who realized he was there. She must have been an exhibitionist. She would strip while staring at him outside. He started going more and more to see her and, each time, she would increase her activity. Stripping, touching herself, and according to him, she even had a male guest when she knew he was there. The desire to watch women became everything to him. He couldn’t achieve sexual satisfaction unless there was an element of voyeurism.”

Nodding, June said, “That is so often how it starts.”

“So, I do feel sorry for him, and yet, as a woman, I’m so creeped out by it.”

“And as a woman, you’ve had to deal with these issues before,” June prompted.

“I know, as a police officer, I will always have to deal with assaults against women. I can handle it, but I admit it trips some triggers.”

June smiled. “Yes, it will. But you recognize those, get help for them, and then you can still do your job.” Leaning back in her chair, she asked, “What about your house?”

“God, I hate even going into it. My bed is gone…Brogan got rid of it. And just knowing Ben was in there has made it difficult for me to return.”

“Where are you staying?”

With a smile, she replied, “With Brogan. He told me that the night of the attack, he was going to talk to me about us moving in together, but deciding which place would be difficult. So, for right now, we’re staying at his bungalow. It’s small, but we’re talking about enlarging it.”

As the two women stood, Ginny’s session over, they embraced. June said, “It’s so good to see you moving forward.” She smiled, knowing she had…with Brogan.

* * *

Several days later, Ginny sat in the back of Finn’s Pub, surrounded by friends. Brogan worked behind the bar, his eyes continually straying to where she sat.

“She’s good,” Aiden said, coming up behind him, pulling a beer for another customer.

Brogan dropped his chin to his chest for a moment, keeping his eyes open because closing them meant he saw her fall backwards again in his mind.

“You been back to see your counselor?” Aiden asked.

Clearing his throat, Brogan shook his head. “Not yet, but I go tomorrow. I wanted to make sure Ginny got in as soon as possible.”

“Has she?”

Brogan nodded, “Yeah. She went yesterday. She seems okay. I mean, look at her…smiling, happy.”

“She’s found peace with it all, Bro. You need to make sure you do too.”

Turning to look at his brother, Brogan said, “I never thanked you for having my back that night, but you know you’ve got my gratitude.”

Laughing, Aiden flashed his famous smile and said, “Always got your back, Bro. But just remember that when you make up the next work rotation.” Clapping Brogan on the back, Aiden headed off to deliver the beers.

Shaking his head, Brogan could not keep the grin from sliding over his lips. Looking over, he saw Ginny walking toward him. Moving behind the bar, she stepped right into his embrace and, leaning her head back, she held his gaze.

“You okay, honey?”

“I am now,” he admitted, his blue eyes twinkling as his arms held her tight.

* * *

“Hi. My name is Ginny MacFarlane. I’m a police officer. Former soldier with the Army Military Police. And I’m a victim of sexual harassment and sexual assault.”

Ginny saw the eyes of the women in the assembly widen, but held their gazes as she finished her introduction. Working with June had given her the courage to now talk with women’s groups, providing education on personal safety, as well as with other victims.

At the end of the group session, Ginny drove from the northern end of the Eastern Shore down to Baytown. Pulling onto the road leading toward Brogan’s house…their house, she slowed down as the structure came into view.

Ginny had not slept in her house since the night of Ben’s arrest, preferring to stay in Brogan’s bungalow. One night, as the group of friends had sat around Mitch’s bonfire, they began to toss around ideas for Brogan’s property and Aiden suggested they turn the bungalow into a garage when they built another house.

“You could keep living in the bungalow while you have a house built next to it…a real house. Then, when the house is finished, turn the bungalow into the garage. You’ve got a place to live and keep the essence of what you originally had.”

The group had fallen silent for a few seconds before cries of “brilliant” and “good idea” sounded in the night. Ginny’s eyes had grown large as she turned to Brogan, who was sitting behind her, his long legs bent at the knees on either side of her.

“Honey, that’s perfect! I love that idea,” she gushed.

Brogan looked over at Aiden, chuckling, “Looks like you might have something there.”

“Hey, I’m not just another pretty face,” Aiden joked, his smile wide.

Ginny had watched as Brogan looked across the fire pit at Aiden, the two brothers sharing a chin lift, her heart full.

A few months later, she and Brogan married in a small ceremony at the spot where the house was being built. Neither wanted a large wedding, the ceremony only attended by close friends and his family. For the reception, they invited the members of the American Legion, Auxiliary, more friends, and held it at Finn’s. Informal. Fun. Not complicated. Completely Brogan and Ginny. Jillian’s mom made the cake. Tori provided flowers from her garden. Katelyn and Aiden ordered the alcohol and sodas. Not wanting presents, the couple asked for donations for the American Legion, but many people brought gifts as well as donations. With only a weekend off, they drove to the Blue Ridge Mountains to have a two-night honeymoon in a place Mitch had recommended—Mountville Cabins. Mitch knew the owner, Bethany Bryant, and had worked with her husband at one time.

The private, A-frame cabin near a lake had been the perfect honeymoon. They barely left the cabin with only a few walks around the lake and through the beautiful woods. Other than that, they stayed in bed for most of the weekend. Ginny smiled at the memory…perfect.

Now, parked at the end of her driveway, she continued to smile at the thought of her future here with Brogan. Professional builders had built most of the home, with Brogan and their friends providing a lot of inside labor. The roof was on, the cedar siding planks were stained, and the windows and doors stood solid.

Her phone rang and as she pulled it from her purse, she saw Brogan on the caller ID. Confused, she answered, “Honey—”

“You gonna just sit there or come inside?”

Lifting her gaze, she saw him standing on the front porch, one hand holding his phone and the other on his hip. His legs were slightly apart, his jeans fitting just right. His t-shirt was old, worn, and tight across his muscular chest. His tats were visible, each memorized by her—she finally got to have that conversation. His handsome face framed by his dark hair, still cut short, and his dark, scruffy beard. And even from the distance, she felt his blue eyes pinned on her.

“Baby?”

Jolting, she replied, “Coming!” Dropping the phone onto the seat, she drove the rest of the way to the house, parking out front.

Brogan opened her door, offering his hand to assist her down. His eyes searched hers, checking her emotional pulse. “You okay?”

Standing on the ground, she looked up, her palms flat on his chest as his hands rested on her waist. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“I was worried—”

“Honey, I wouldn’t do it if I thought I couldn’t handle it. But talking to women’s groups is good for me as well as them.”

His smile melted her heart, then he melted it further, when he said, “You’re better than good. You’re perfect…for me.”

Brogan’s lips met hers, slow and soft, pulling back only when he knew he needed to or he would carry her to their bedroom in the bungalow and make love to her and, right now, he wanted to show her what had been accomplished while she had been gone.

He touched his lips to her forehead and grinned, turning as he tucked her close to his side, walking her to the door. Bending, he scooped her up, one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back, stepping through the front door, over the threshold of their house.

Throwing her head back in laughter, she clung to his neck. As he settled her feet carefully on the floor, he said, “Been waiting to do that for a long time.”

Grinning, Ginny took his hand as her gaze moved from his to around the inside of the house. The drywall was now up in most of the rooms, giving her a chance to really see what it would look like. The entry foyer was not large, but held a coat closet to the left and directly in front was the staircase leading to the second-floor bedrooms, as well as a hall leading to the kitchen and family room in the back, facing the bay.

Holding her hand, Brogan led her through the rooms, the living and dining rooms first, facing the front. Then, down the hall to the kitchen, where he motioned where the appliances would go, just as she had planned. Turning to the den, she smiled as he said, “And this is where we’ll hang with the kids…have Christmases, lazy Saturday mornings, friends over.”

She looked at the newly hung windows facing the bay, the sun already beginning to set, creating the pastel sky that they had viewed so often together. Heart light, she felt a tug on her hand and, turning back to him, she followed him to the stairs.

The banister had not been installed yet, so he made her walk close to the wall, holding her tightly. At the top, she looked around at the four bedrooms. The house was larger than they initially planned, but Corrine and Eric had convinced them it would be more economical to build it completely now than to keep adding on later. So, they agreed.

Entering what would be the master, she smiled at the large space.

“Got more than enough room for my king-sized bed, sweetheart.”

Laughing, she admired what would be the master bathroom before they stepped back into the hall.

“And we’ve got three rooms for guests and kids,” he added.

Ginny moved into the smaller bedroom, directly across the hall from the master. Her mind already painting it in greens, yellows, and blues. Maybe a rainbow mural on one wall.

“What are you thinking, babe?” Brogan asked, seeing her gaze moving studiously around the room.

Her lips curved slightly as she looked up into his face, turning her body toward his, taking both hands in hers. “I was thinking this would be a perfect nursery, honey.”

Brogan let out a huge breath, his smile settling on his face. “Me too. That was exactly what I thought earlier.”

Biting her lip, she said, “So when will the house be finished enough for us to move in?”

“Should be ready in about two more months.”

“Good, that’ll be plenty of time.”

Tilting his head, he asked, “Time for what?”

“Time for us to decorate it as a nursery since it’ll be occupied in about seven months.”

Brogan said nothing. He just stared. His eyes narrowed for a few seconds before flying open. “What? A baby? Oh, Jesus, Ginny…a baby?” He picked her up and twirled her around and around, their laughter filling the air.

Two souls…once filled with pain…finding peace…together.