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BECAUSE OF YOU CHAPTER 3
Shane walked into the gym, taking in all the activity around him, trying to see how things were set up for this deployment. In the center of the gym, soldiers waited in line for medical approval in order to officially begin their season in the desert. Good times had by all. Reaching the bleachers, he dropped his assault pack on the bottom step, laid his M4 on the floor at his feet, and took a seat, resting his head on his forearms. For the first time in twenty-four hours he was able to close his eyes.
He never slept the night before deployment. The first time he’d deployed, he’d been too nervous to sleep and had crashed hard on the plane, waking up somewhere over Turkey. Last night, though, he’d lain awake for different reasons. His stitches had been throbbing like a bastard, and there’d been blood on the bandage this morning. He was doing his best to ignore that, though, along with the pain. He just had to make it through today without a physical and he’d be fine.
Shane sat fully upright, wincing as the sudden movement jarred his stitches. He looked around, hoping no one had noticed. To be deployed, a soldier had to be one hundred percent medically ready, and he did not want to give anyone a reason to suspect that he was not. No one knew that less than a week ago, while he was on vacation down in Corpus Christie, catching a few catfish, he’d had to make a quick side trip to the local civilian hospital. So far, he’d manage to keep anyone in the army from finding out, and had kept it out of his official medical records. The way he saw it, his lack of appendix wouldn’t be the problem getting out of here today. His recent lack of an appendix could, especially if Trent or Carponti found out, as they’d make damn sure he didn’t deploy. They wouldn’t do it out of spite, but rather worry. It was Shane’s job to worry about the guys, not the other way around. He realized that Trent had the authority to make him stay behind, and Carponti had a big mouth. If Carponti knew, everyone else would, too . . . and that was not going to happen. Shane just had to grin and bear the pain. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d stepped over the fine line between hooah and stupid.
The medical line was a final clearance that was damn sure going to stick it to him, and not in a good way. He overheard one of the nurses say ‘exam.’ Shit. A couple of the guys didn’t come out from behind a white curtain looking too happy. He’d counted at least five that had been pulled off flights and they weren’t even halfway through the line. He had to find a way to get on that plane without seeing a doc.
But more than just his stitches had kept him up last night. In truth, Jen St. James was the primary reason he’d had trouble sleeping. Even now, his body tightened at the memory of her kissJen had given him a taste of what might have been if he hadn’t been going off to war. Deployments were filled with long bouts of boredom and loneliness, punctuated by bursts of pure terror and an overdose of adrenaline. He had no idea how the wives and girlfriends who were left behind managed while their soldiers unplugged and shipped out. Well, he had an idea, but most of them didn’t cheat like his ex had.
But he was a soldier and duty called. Being a soldier meant leaving behind the soft kisses and warm beds. It meant toughing it out in the heat, dirt, and sand for the guy next to you. It took a special kind of woman to wait for the wars to be over.
He might not have someone waiting when he came home, but that kiss was going to keep him company through the long nights of his deployment. It would give him something good to think about when the weight and responsibility he carried got a little too heavy.
Shane shifted on the bleachers, tensing as his stomach clenched and pain burst through his gut. He should have been more careful last night while trying to keep the fight between Randall and Carponti from getting out of control. It was never a good thing when sergeants felt like they could take a swing at an officer, especially an officer in his company. And Randall was just petty enough to complain to Trent about Carponti’s insubordinate conduct. Never mind that Randall had hit on Carponti’s wife. That little fact would likely be left out of the report.
Nearby, the gym’s main door slammed open, hushing the dull noise of the crowd as everyone turned toward the boom. Shane looked up as Carponti strolled in, his arm draped around his wife’s shoulders. Shane narrowed his eyes as they stumbled toward him. ‘He better not still be drunk,’ he mumbled beneath his breath.
Shane had no idea how Nicole put up with all of Carponti’s antics, but she did. It looked like neither of them had slept. He was happy to see that there was laughter in Nicole’s eyes so much better than the tears he’d seen in the other wives. Carponti had a wife who’d stood by him no matter how many times he went off to war. He was one of the lucky ones. Shane glanced around at the myriad of couples saying their last farewells, wondering how many of the wives and girlfriends would be here when they returned. And wasn’t that a cheerful thought.
Nicole peeled away from her husband and ducked into the bathroom. Meanwhile, Carponti strolled up to Shane, dropping his assault pack next to him on the bleachers. ‘What’s got your panties in a bunch?’
As he dropped his gear on the floor, Carponti removed his patrol cap, and Shane damn near choked on a laugh. He’d shaved his red hair completely off except for a tiny patch on the top of his head.
‘Is that supposed to make you look tough?’ Shane asked, covering his mouth with his hand.
Carponti shrugged and slid his hand over his ghost-white scalp. ‘You’re just jealous because I can still grow hair and yours has long ago surrendered the field to old age.’
Shane scowled. ‘Are you drunk?’
‘Nope, cold sober. Wish I was still at home in bed with my wife, though. But no. Not drunk.’ His grin spread across his face as he plopped down next to Shane, elbowing him in his stitches. ‘Watch out, here comes the sergeant major and oh, he looks so happy to see you.’
Shane and Carponti both stood as the major approached. Carponti raised his voice several octaves as he imitated a deliriously happy teenage girl, as Shane, once again, wished that annoying people in charge wasn’t one of Carponti’s favorite pastimes. ‘Morning, Sarn’t Major. Did you bring a pillow and a blankie for the flight?’
Shane shoved Carponti behind him as he assumed the position of parade rest, hands folded at the small of his back, his feet spread. Sergeant Major Giles didn’t laugh at Carponti’s smart-ass remark. A smirk didn’t even dent the creases in Giles’s hard-lined face. He glared, pinning Shane with a hard look. Light glinted off his smooth scalp.
‘Want to explain what happened last night?’ Giles stopped in front of them, his feet braced shoulder-width apart, thumbs hooked on his belt loops.
‘Nothing that I’m aware of, Sarn’t Major,’ Shane said, mentally willing Carponti to keep his mouth shut while at the same time hoping that Nicole would hurry back from the bathroom. If Carponti’s wife was there with them, maybe Sarn’t Major wouldn’t rip them new assholes . . .
It wasn’t like Shane and Carponti hadn’t been grilled by the Sarn’t Major before. There was a period right after the last deployment when every single one of Carponti’s team had been arrested. All at once. Shane had managed to keep them from being thrown out of the army. Barely. And just his luck, his bullshitting skills were asleep at the moment.
Sergeant Major pulled out a can of dip and slapped it between his thumb and index finger then stuffed a wad between the side of his cheek and his teeth. ‘So there wasn’t an assault on an officer last night at Ropers?’
‘Well.’ Shane cleared his throat. ‘There’s a lot of confusion about what actually happened . . .’
Giles jabbed a finger toward Shane’s chest, cutting him off. ‘Save your tap dancing for the commander. Did anyone get arrested?’
‘No, Sarn’t Major.’
‘Good. So explain to me how you’re the only platoon sergeant who hasn’t cleared the medical section.’ He folded his arms over his chest and jerked his head toward Carponti. ‘Along with this delinquent.’
Shane cleared his throat, praying Carponti would keep his mouth shut for a few more minutes. ‘Must have slipped my mind, Sarn’t Major.’
It was a banner day that Sarn’t Major didn’t eviscerate him over that lame-ass excuse. Giles jabbed his thumb over his shoulder toward the medical line.
‘Now’ was all he said before he moved off to some other hapless bastard. ‘You, too, smart-ass.’
Shane swore beneath his breath as they walked over to the medical line, leaving their weapons with Ross, one of Carponti’s soldiers. Carponti, eager to get the process over with, elbowed his way in front of him. Something tore deep beneath the muscles in Shane’s abdomen and white pain blocked his throat.
‘That was the worst excuse ever.’
When Shane felt he could talk he said, ‘We didn’t have to see the battalion commander, so it worked, didn’t it? And thank you for keeping your mouth shut.’
‘I’m not stupid,’ Carponti responded. Shane shot him a look that suggested otherwise. ‘I’m fully aware that assaulting an officer isn’t a good way to start my deployment.’
Shane laughed, folded his arms over his chest, and scanned the line, seeing many familiar faces. Several guys had their noses buried in books but most of them were just talking trash and throwing insults at one another as the line inched forward. There were a half dozen nurses in blue smocks, poking and sticking the men with last-minute anthrax and smallpox and a dozen other vials of mysterious crap ending in x.
A mass of soldiers stood in several lines, obscuring the view, but every so often he’d catch a glimpse of what was happening at the front of the lines. Each soldier stepped forward, and removed his Army Combat Uniform top, then rolled up the sleeves of his tan undershirt. Some would hold on to their weapons, others would hand them to a buddy before they went under the needle. Then he’d hand the nurse his records and wait to see how many needles were involved in this little medical party.
Maybe he could bluff his way through the line. He’d banked on there not being medical processing today. Looks like he’d been wrong. He had to skip a full-blown medical exam. The minute the nurse saw the bandages taped to his belly, he’d be well and truly fucked.
Most of the guys stood in silence as the nurse reviewed which shot or shots they needed. Shane grinned as one of the soldiers tried to convince his nurse to falsify his records so he wouldn’t have to get smallpox. It didn’t work. It never did. Shane scanned the crowd, trying to formulate a plan.
The nurse at the front of his line caught his attention just as she raised a needle over a soldier’s biceps. Shane’s skin prickled with recognition as pale green eyes looked right past him and back to the soldier she was about to inject.
Holy. Shit.
Jen St. James.
* * *
Jen bit her bottom lip as she reviewed the medical chart in front of her. She searched for composure as she swabbed the GI’s shoulder. When she’d been asked to fill in for another nurse that morning, she had known there was a distinct possibility that she would see Shane again, but she hadn’t really counted on it . . . Now he stood just two soldiers away from her and she had no idea what to do next.
He was even more incredible in broad daylight, and that was saying a whole lot, because he’d been pretty damn impressive last night. His tan T-shirt stretched across his chest like a second skin, making his shoulders look wider than they had last night, and she could see the outline of his dog tags beneath it.
Shane’s friend stepped right up, instantly recognizing her. ‘Hey, aren’t you Laura Davila’s friend from last night? I’ll have your child if you let me skip the smallpox vac,’ Carponti begged. ‘I will make Shane send you pictures of his ‘
Suddenly Shane’s palm struck him on the back of the head and Carponti’s freckled face went from grinning to groaning. Carponti stumbled forward and nearly collided with Jen before he caught himself.
Shane covered his mouth and coughed, and she couldn’t tell if he was laughing or horrified. ‘Sorry about Carponti, ma’am. We don’t let him out to play very often.’
‘That’s all right.’ Jen held out her hand for Carponti’s ID card. ‘The animals have to be let out sometime,’ she added, with a lightness she hadn’t felt a moment before.
Shane leaned toward her and her breath caught in her throat, his familiar scent wrapped around her. She wanted to ask him what soap he used, because, damn, he smelled good. Then he spoke, his voice low in a conspiratorial whisper, and she forgot all about his smell when his voice reverberated off her skin. ‘If you could make this hurt a little extra, that would be great.’
‘I’m standing right here,’ Carponti whined. ‘And just a reminder, I know where you’re going to be sleeping for the rest of the year.’
Jen tried not to laugh at his antics while she quickly injected him with the vaccine and then covered the puncture with a bandage. ‘Keep it covered for the next ten days and don’t leave the bandage laying around.’
‘So putting it on Sarn’t G’s bunk is probably a bad idea?’
‘Um, yes.’ She stamped Carponti’s record and handed it back to him. ‘Good luck this year.’
‘I don’t have to sign anything?’ he asked, looking over at a soldier signing some orange form.
‘No. You’re just getting vaccinations. He probably needs an exam.’ She paused. ‘Take care, okay?’
Carponti moved off to the next station as Shane reluctantly stepped up to the medical station. She fought the tiny curl of her lips at seeing him again. It was a ridiculous reaction. But it felt good.
‘Hi,’ he said, breaking the heavy silence between them.
‘Hi.’ It was another moment before she held out her hand. ‘Do you have your records?’
His jaw flexed. ‘No. The clinic lost them.’
‘Oh. I can pull them up here if you give me your ID card.’ He handed it over and a moment later, Shane’s medical history flashed on the screen. ‘You missed your last exam. I can’t clear you until you have a periodic health assessment.’
‘Can’t you do that?’ Shane said.
She shot him a baleful look that said he should know better. ‘I can do the exam, but it has to be validated by a doctor. And no, you can’t skip your predeployment health screening. Unless you want me to get fired,’ she added.
‘I’m healthy as an ox.’ He stepped closer, so close she had to tip her head up to look at him. Last night, he’d dipped his mouth, just a little, and she’d met him halfway. ‘If there’s any way you can get me cleared today I’d really appreciate it . . . I need to deploy.’
Jen then looked up at the man who had shielded her at the bar last night. At the man who, for one breathtaking, soul-blinding moment, had made her forget her own scars and inhibitions and made her feel sensual and beautiful and whole. She wanted to help him, but there were rules, very strict rules that could get her fired. Rules that invoked patient privacy and fit-for-duty standards. Too many commanders had bullied soldiers onto planes who weren’t fit to deploy. Broken legs or broken spirits, it didn’t matter, it was the commander who held the final vote. The tight rules were there to keep soldiers who weren’t healthy off the planes and out of combat until they were fully healed. Some never were. But it was the soldier who begged to deploy anyway, even though he wasn’t physically ready, that really tore at her soul.
She looked up at the unspoken plea staring back at her from concrete-grey eyes.
‘I’m going to jail for this,’ she murmured. She raised her voice, just a little. ‘Sergeant Garrison, would you step over here, please?’
Jen motioned for him to follow her behind the white curtain, not missing the wary expression on his face. Last night he’d looked at her like she’d hung the moon. Now? Now he looked at her like she might be the enemy.
‘I need to take your vitals. Sit there.’ She pointed at a chair then pulled out the blood pressure cuff, wrapping it around his arm. His skin was hot and smooth beneath her fingertips; the black tattoos writhed up his arm and disappeared beneath the cotton sleeve. She looked anywhere but in his eyes as she slipped the stethoscope beneath the cuff and listened to his heart. As she pumped up the band, his strong, solid heartbeat thumped in her ears over the hiss of air as she counted silently. Her gaze drifted down again to the outline of the dog tags pressed against his . . . wait a second. Beneath the soft tan cotton of his shirt, a small square outline caught her attention.
‘Shane, what is that?’ She glanced at the area in question.
He tensed, suddenly immobile. Totally still. No movement. No sound. The kind of still that her patients became when they were getting ready to lie to her.
‘What?’ he asked, avoiding her gaze.
‘That lump beneath your T-shirt.’
‘Cut myself shaving,’ he said, but his voice was tight.
‘You shave . . . your chest?’ Jen asked weakly. She knew some guys did. She just never understood why.
‘Bad joke?’
Forgetting his blood pressure, Jen tugged at the edge of his shirt, revealing a white bandage, stained with blood. Turning, she grabbed a pair of gloves and pulled them on, then quickly eased back the bandage. ‘That’s more than a shaving cut.’ She finally met his gaze, confronting the emotions she’d tried to avoid. The torrent inside of her was nothing compared to the intensity looking back at her. Tiny flecks of green tinted the blue-grey of his eyes. Lines creased the skin beneath them and she very suddenly wanted to get as far away from him as she could. That or smooth her fingers over those lines after she asked him for the one thing she doubted he’d give her. The truth. ‘These are surgical incisions. Did’85did you have surgery?’
He swallowed, his jaw flexing, and looked away. The muscles in his neck visibly tightened. He breathed hard, his nostrils flaring. Finally, the answer ground from his lips. ‘Appendix.’
Jen held her breath as she moved his shirt and saw the blood seeping around the edge of the bandage where she held it against his skin. This was a recent appendectomy. Really recent. What the hell was he thinking? She pulled the bandage off, and inspected the sutures. At least it had been laparoscopic surgery. Small wounds, one on his left side, the other at the base of his navel. The other bandage was still partially hidden by the rest of his T-shirt and the waistband of his pants. She reached behind her for a clean bandage, but Shane snagged her wrists.
‘Please keep this quiet, Jen. I know it looks bad, but really I’m fine. If I need to sign something to get you to agree to let me go, I will, but I’m asking you to pretend you didn’t see this.’
The silence grew and still she didn’t speak as she pulled her wrists free and replaced the bandage. Finally, she looked directly at him, refusing to look away from the plea in his eyes. ‘Let me see your other stitches.’
Shane lifted the rest of his shirt free from his pants, revealing his hard stomach, covered with a dark swirl of hair. Another white patch stood out against the dark hair at the bottom of his navel. And just like before, a bright red splotch of blood seeped through.
‘Oh, Shane,’ she whispered as she reached and peeled the bandage back from the incision. Fortunately, it wasn’t as bad as she feared. The stitches hadn’t ripped, just stretched enough to leak. With an alcohol pad, she wiped the blood from the clean-shaven skin around his wound. She tried not to notice warm, smooth heat radiating from his skin. Thankfully, it was the warmth of a healthy male, not the intense heat that suggested infection. Gently, she pressed a clean bandage over the stitches. ‘They’re not ripped, but they easily could have been.’
Sighing, she looked up at him, immediately noticing that his cheeks were clean-shaven, in stark contrast to the night before. Hidden behind the white curtain, a barrier had grown between them. A wall made of two blood-soaked bandages and a missing appendix.
She swallowed and studied him closely, hating her next words. ‘Shane, you can’t deploy today. You’re days out of surgery. Technically, you should be on convalescent leave.’
‘Obviously, I’m not. I’m here and I’m getting ready to get on a plane for an eighteen-hour flight to the sandbox. With. My. Men.’ He never raised his voice, but the intensity ratcheted up with each word.
He was serious. He was trying to deploy. Today. ‘You could die.’
‘Jen, I’m going to run combat patrols in northern Baghdad. I figure my odds are fifty-fifty at best anyway.’
She took a step backward and folded her arms across her chest. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t let you deploy. The risk of infection alone . . .’
Shane stood and stepped into her space, close like he had been last night only this time his voice was low and rough. Ragged. ‘Do you know what it feels like to have a kid die on patrol because his squad leader did something stupid? Something you could have prevented if you’d been there? Jen, this is the Surge. The last big push to try and stop the violence and stabilize Iraq. This is going to be worse than any year since the supposed end of combat operations. Don’t send my men to war without me. Please, Jen.’
‘You won’t do a damn bit of good if you’re laid up with an infection.’ She tried to step back, away from the intensity in his words, the plea that was in his voice. But she didn’t. She’d never seen this kind of concern before.
‘Then I won’t get an infection. Tell me whatever I have to do, whatever pills I have to take to prevent it, and I’ll do it.’ He glanced around, like he was searching for something, then he picked up a syringe to help him make his point, holding it in the palm of his hand. ‘You wouldn’t send the guys over there without their shots, right?’
She tried to take the syringe from him and he closed his hand over hers. Jen shook her head and tried to free her hand.. ‘Shane, that makes no sense and has nothing to do with you, but no, of course not. They need the immunizations to stay healthy.’
He squeezed her fingers beneath his and grinned down at her, his eyes warm like they’d been last night. ‘Think of me as part of their stay-healthy plan.’ He slid his fingers over the back of her knuckles, the gesture too familiar and too enticing all at once. The grin was now gone, the plea back in his eyes. ‘Don’t send my men without me. Please.’
‘You’re not God, Shane. You can’t control who lives and who dies.’
‘No, I can’t, but I can make a difference.’
‘You really believe that? Enough to risk your life?’
‘Yes, I really do. There is nowhere I would rather be than at the center of the fight with my platoon.’
Jen swallowed and looked away, finally pulling her fingers free. ‘I don’t understand you,’ she whispered. He was willing to risk everything to deploy. He wanted to get on that plane with stitches that were barely healed, putting his life at risk . . . not that the war didn’t do that all on its own. ‘Why do you want to go so badly?’
‘My boys need me.’ He lifted his free hand, like he was going to reach for her, then dropped it abruptly, squeezing the fingers he still held. ‘Don’t make me leave them. Not now.’
‘You could die.’
‘That’s going to happen anyway. It’s just a question of when.’ He tucked his hands into the waistband of his pants. ‘I’d rather die doing what I love.’
She turned away, staring at the form she’d need to sign in order for him to deploy. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was about to make a tremendous mistake, one that was potentially illegal and certainly unethical. But with one stroke of her pen, she gave him her blessing.
Shane sighed with relief. ‘Thank you.’
Jen poked her finger in his chest. ‘Don’t thank me. Anything happens to you, I’m responsible. And you still need your flu shot.’
He smiled down at her, but there was no gloating in his eyes. Only a quiet victory. ‘You’re not God, Jen.’
‘No, but I am responsible for my patients,’ she replied.
He tucked his shirt into his pants, a faint smile at the corners of his lips. ‘Then you understand me.’
She shouldn’t have been surprised that Shane didn’t read the form she handed him. He simply scribbled his name where she indicated. A sense of gloom settled around her heart. He rolled up the sleeve that had slipped down, baring his arm for the immunization. ‘Poke away.’
She swabbed his skin and when she positioned the needle on his biceps, he caught her gaze one final time. ‘Be careful. I’m fragile.’
Jen stared at him for a moment. His eyes glittered in the bright light. The sides of his mouth twitched. She looked at his wide chest, his heavy arms and rough hands. Fragile? Her lips quivered as she tried to hold back her response and failed. She covered her mouth with the back of her gloved hand and laughed.
Shane couldn’t remember the last time he’d made a woman really laugh. Not like this anyway, this full-blown laugh that sent a smile creeping across his own lips. He’d meant to make her smile, to ease the regret he saw in her eyes. But this? This laugh was its own reward.
Jen wiped her eyes and answered his smile with her own. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Glad I could help.’ He slid his fingers across her knuckles and over the back of her hand, his fingers lightly circling her wrist. ‘Thank you for this,’ he whispered.
She finished with the shot and looked away, hoping he didn’t see the moisture filling her eyes. She stood there for an impossible moment, realizing that she had violated her ethics for a man she would probably never see again, knowing it was the wrong thing to do. It didn’t matter that he was a friend of Laura and Trent’s. He’d come into her life for a brief moment and made her feel.
‘Shane?’
‘Yeah?’ He paused where he’d shrugged into his uniform top.
Jen wanted to say something. To tell him to be safe, but what good would it do? He was the guy who ran toward the burning building while everyone else ran the other way to safety. ‘Never mind.’
Instead, she held on to the one final moment she’d have with him before he left for the only other place on earth hotter and more dangerous than hell. . . .
Iraq.
* * *
It was time for roll call. Jen finished cleaning up her station and walked along the edge of the gym floor, skirting the massive formation. Near the door at the far end, a sergeant called out names, one at a time. A loud ‘hooah’ or ‘here sarn’t’ rang out as the soldier grabbed his gear and moved into formation.
Laura waved at her from the bleachers, where she sat with the girl from last night, Nicole. As she approached, she noticed that Nicole’s eyes looked red, but she wasn’t going to mention it. It wasn’t her place.
Jen threaded her arm through Laura’s and scanned the crowd, looking for a familiar face. She knew Laura was doing the same. Near the back edge of the formation, Shane stood next to Trent and Carponti. Carponti was telling a story that took a whole lot of movement. She smiled and wondered just how much the young sergeant got away with.
Jen didn’t miss the fact that Laura’s eyes were also rimmed with red and swollen. She leaned her head on her friend’s shoulder.
‘It’s his fifth deployment in seven years,’ Laura said. She sniffed and wiped her eyes. ‘I don’t understand how he ends up constantly deploying when there are others who haven’t gone once.’
‘How are the kids holding up with everything?’ Jen asked, unable to find anything comforting to say.
‘You mean other than not knowing their daddy? They’re fine. These days they’re more comfortable being left at day care than spending time with Trent. It’s mostly older kids who have trouble with deployment. Mine are still young. But Ethan’s starting to have problems. Crying for Trent when he gets mad at me. Stuff like that.’
‘Is that why you didn’t bring them?’ Nicole sniffed.
‘No. I didn’t bring them because it’s too hard on Trent. It prolongs the pain. He needs to focus on getting the job done, not on the kids clinging to him until the last minute.’
‘Isn’t that harder on you?’ Jen asked.
‘Not really. I’m used to it at this point.’
Nicole sniffed again as she searched for something in her purse. ‘You make it sound so easy. I hate that Vic is leaving again. I felt like shooting him in the foot so he couldn’t deploy.’
Laura covered her face with her hands as Jen rubbed her back. ‘I can’t keep doing this.’
Pulling a fresh pack of tissues from her purse, Nicole handed one to Laura. ‘Vic promised me this’ll be the last one. He’s going to ask for an ROTC assignment or something else that will let him be home for a while.’
‘Good luck with that,’ Laura said, swiping the tissue beneath her eyes. ‘I hope it works for you. I’m starting to suspect that Trent’s happier when he’s deployed.’
Jen blinked back her surprise. It was the first negative thing she’d ever heard Laura say about her husband.
‘I hope this year goes by quickly and is uneventful,’ Laura said. ‘I don’t think I can handle another bad year like ’04.’
Jen frowned, squeezing Laura’s hand, and answered the question in Nicole’s eyes. ‘The year Trent died.’ It wasn’t a question.
‘Yeah. Trent was hurt bad and someone screwed up and ruined my life for almost two days. I got the whole casualty notification and everything. He called a day and a half later.’ Laura bit her lips together. ‘I thought I’d gotten him back. Guess I was wrong.’
The sergeant major moved to the front of the formation.’Detachment, atten-tion!’
The answering cry of the unit’s motto ‘Death Dealers!’ echoed off the rafters and thundered through Jen’s chest.
‘Right, face!’ As one, the entire formation pivoted and turned to the right. ‘File from the right, forward, march!’
The rest of the formation stood still as the first file of soldiers began marching from the gym. Jen squeezed Laura’s hand as Trent started to march toward the door. Shane looked up, and their eyes met over the top of the crowd. He mouthed a silent thank-you before he turned and marched from the gym without another glance.
Oh joy. Lucky her, neither Nicole nor Laura missed the gesture. ‘What was that?’ Laura asked.
‘What was what?’ Jen said, fidgeting with her ID badge. She tried and failed to keep the tiny smile from the edge of her mouth.
‘That?’ Laura asked, pointing at Shane’s retreating back.
‘Nothing.’
‘Oh really? You saw that, right, Nikki?’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Jen insisted.
She wasn’t sure why she had lied. She bit her lip, remembering last night’s kiss, and how Shane had chased away her nervousness and self-consciousness, leaving her with a lingering ache in her belly. Maybe it was the fact that, last night, she’d felt like a real, whole woman for the first time in over a year. It was something she was still absorbing, still trying to figure out, and she wasn’t ready to share it with the group and have it dissected.
‘Nothing my foot. I saw that, too,’ Nicole said. She quickly glanced at her watch and jumped up. ‘Oh man, I’ve got to get to work.’ She rushed down the bleachers, waving good-bye over her shoulder, leaving Jen at Laura’s mercy.
‘Okay, it’s just us. Spill.’
Jen clenched her keys and smiled. ‘Nothing. He walked me to my car, I went home. Alone.’
‘Uh-huh,’ Laura said in a tone that clearly called her bluff, as they got up to walk to their cars. Jen said it again. ‘Nothing happened. He was a perfect gentleman.’
‘Ha, now I know you’re lying,’ her friend said, as they stepped into the bright Fort Hood sunlight.
‘Why do you say that?’ Jen asked, curious, then clicked her remote to unlock her car.
‘I’ve known Shane since he and Trent were nineteen. Let’s just say he’s done some growing up.’
‘Once again, care to elaborate?’
‘Ha, so you are interested!’ Laura shook her butt in a victory dance. ‘I knew it.’
‘Knew what?’ Jen asked, palming her keys.
‘That it was just going to take the right person to push you out of your comfort zone.’
‘Shane didn’t push me anywhere,’ Jen said. ‘And a guy like him isn’t going to cure what ails me.’ She just wished Laura would drop the whole conversation, now.
‘Scars heal, Jen. But your boobs don’t make you a person.’
‘Can we not talk about this right now? Hell, you’ve got Shane checking out my boobs and being the Great Penis who will save the damsel in distress. I’ve talked to him twice. Reality check?’
Laura choked on a laugh. ‘I’m so going to tell him you called him the Great Penis.’
‘Laura . . .’
‘I’m kidding. I’ll tell Trent. He’ll get a kick out of that. Seriously, just admit that you went out and had fun when you didn’t think you could.’
‘I admit it.’ Jen rolled her eyes, smiling. ‘Are you happy now?’
‘See, we’re making progress.’ Laura glanced at her watch. ‘I’ve got to get going, too. Come by the house this weekend. I’m hosting a family readiness group meeting and I could use a hand with the kids.’
‘Sure.’ She paused and decided there was no better time than the present to ask. Might as well get the harassment over with. ‘Do you have their address?’
Laura cast her a sideways glance. ‘Sure, why?’
Jen swallowed the lie. She couldn’t admit to Laura that she wanted to check on Shane because she had medically released him. Hey, I just sent one of your friends to his potential death and I wanted to keep tabs on him and make sure he didn’t actually die. Nothing big. She shrugged and tried for a nonchalance she did not feel. ‘I’d like to send the guys a care package or something. What do guys like when they’re deployed?’
‘Porn and junk food.’
Jen realized by the look on Laura’s face that she must not have hidden her horrified expression very well.
‘What? I’m married to him. Though Trent has never specifically asked for porn ‘
Laura got in her car and slammed the door shut, cutting off whatever she was saying.
Jen got into her car, too, and sat in her driver’s seat for a moment, thinking about Shane as she watched the last bus pull away from behind the gym. Had she made the right call? Was she doomed to spend the rest of the year worrying about the man she’d sent to war? It would serve her right.
She shouldn’t have cleared Shane to deploy today. But the need and the loyalty in his eyes when he’d asked her to let him go had touched her deeply. No one had ever shown her that kind of loyalty before, and to see a man willing to risk his health to stand by his men was compelling and something unique that she did not understand.
And heaven help her, she’d sent him to Iraq.
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