Page 42 of Sunny Skies Ahead (Watford Sweethearts #2)

Chapter thirty-one

Kameron

I ’d given a lot of speeches in my time in the military, but I’d never felt more confident in my delivery.

I strolled to the stand, and proceeded to confidently and calmly present my case for why Winding Road deserved this funding.

I elicited laughs from many of the committee members, and I’d received several nods of acknowledgement and understanding as I read through some testimonials from previous cohort members.

I clicked to the last slide, which showcased a picture of Lucas, Connor, and I, kneeling in front of our most recent cohort of veterans.

“The work we do at Winding Road has brought more to my life than I could have ever dreamed,” I said. “I even met someone I’ve grown to love and care for very much, and she traveled with me to be here today.”

I gestured to Imogen, who had been hovering in the back of the room throughout the entire presentation.

There were tears in her eyes, and her smile was blinding as she waved to the committee members.

To my surprise, she also stepped towards the podium.

My heart lurched in my chest, and for a moment I wondered if I’d forgotten a slide.

“Hi everyone,” she said as she stood beside me. “If you could turn your attentions back towards the screen, there’s one final piece of the presentation, in the form of a video essay. This was meant to be somewhat of a surprise for Kameron, so you’ll forgive his confusion.”

There were several chuckles as I stepped to the side. Imogen plugged in the USB and brought the video up, tapping the spacebar to begin the video as we stepped away to watch.

The video started with some b-roll footage Imogen had taken of Winding Road, including some cameos from Chesty and Reckless. Then it panned over to Connor, who briefly explained his sobriety story and how Winding Road had saved his life.

It hit me like a ton of bricks, seeing my best friend sitting on the front steps of the farmhouse with Abbie next to him, his hand in hers. The love written on her face as she listened to his story had me reaching for Imogen, professionalism be damned.

This was my mission—reuniting families, reconnecting loved ones, and helping people realize that they could rise above their struggles, if they had the tools to help them.

“Oh my God,” I murmured as the scene shifted again. Imogen took my hand, linking our fingers together and squeezing gently.

Next was Lucas, who talked about how Winding Road was a place people came to not only to find healing, but purpose. I chuckled when I realized Imogen had managed to green screen him into the pasture.

“Had to keep the continuity,” Imogen whispered. I was still too shocked to answer, but I gave her fingers a squeeze in response.

After Lucas’s clip, the scenes transitioned away from Winding Road to a montage of pictures of a young family.

It took me a moment to realize who the family was.

My shoulders shook with the force of my emotion, and my tears fell freely as we watched.

Imogen must have reached out to Gail. She was the only person, other than my mother, who had pictures of the three of us from before my father’s death. Watching the slideshow of my childhood play was surreal. Pictures of us at Christmas, on vacation, at my father’s work parties.

A childhood— my childhood—forever immortalized in the grainy lens of an early 2000s camera.

A lifetime forever changed by one man’s absence.

Text explaining my Dad’s service and his death played alongside the photos.

And at the end, there was a video of Lilliana, sitting in the nursing home in Laketon, telling the audience about Patrick, and why a place like Winding Road was so important for first responders and their families.

“I love you, Kam. I’m so proud of you. We both are.”

I choked on my next breath, unable to bear the emotion of it. That Imogen had put this together, that my mother had been lucid enough to take part, that Gail had kept those treasured memories hoping one day I’d be strong enough to look at them again—it was everything .

There wasn’t a dry eye in the room as the video faded.

I turned to Imogen and enveloped her in a tight hug.

In many ways, the video was meant to drive an emotional punch that left a lasting impression on the selection committee. I knew we’d succeeded there.

But for the five of us that knew Winding Road so intimately, it was more than that. It was an acknowledgment of the pain of the past, and an invitation to step into a new future.

Winding Road would survive whatever came next, because the team of people behind the mission knew how valuable it was.

We would never stop fighting to change the story that was written too often among first responders, veterans, and their family members.

We would never stop.