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Dad for Charlie & the Sergeant's Temptation & the Alaskan Catch & New Year's Wedding (9781488015687)

Page 35

by Stewart, Anna J. ; Sasson, Sophia; Carpenter, Beth; Jensen, Muriel


  “I seem to be making a habit of this,” she said awkwardly as she fought to regain her balance in the unsteady truck.

  She pushed aside pieces of wood, metal brackets and other junk to make a space next to him, then sat down with a sigh. Their sides touched, and he liked the feel of her so close to him…and the fact that she wanted to sit so close.

  They finally left Jalalabad and the ride became smoother as Ali bumped over the potholes in the country road.

  Alessa leaned her head into his and he instinctively put his arm around her. She didn’t resist, so he pulled her closer, warmth settling into his chest. He leaned back, and for the first time since they’d left Fort Belvoir, he allowed himself to relax a fraction. Something about having Alessa beside him calmed the constant churn of his stomach.

  “You can do this, Luke,” she whispered. They had their comms system turned on so they didn’t have to yell over the clanking engine.

  He wished he could believe her. He reached into his pocket and powered on his phone. Alessa shifted so she could see his screen. They checked the GPS locations of the rest of the team. “I don’t understand why Boots and Rodgers are dark still.”

  “Do you want to try and contact them?”

  He shook his head. If they’d gone dark in order to avoid surveillance, calling them might give their location away. The emergency protocol that allowed Luke to remotely activate their phones was for the sole purpose of locating them if everything went wrong and they had to go in to retrieve their team members. It wasn’t time to panic. Yet. Dan, Steele and Dimples looked like they’d started moving again and were across the border.

  Alessa filled him in on her conversation with Amine.

  “That jives with what Reza told me. He said she was married to an old tribal leader to pay off a debt their father owed. Her husband was pretty abusive, so Reza decided to defy the family and smuggle her away.”

  “He’s not going to get far in Pakistan, especially at the border. If Amine’s husband has connections with the Taliban, they’ll catch him in no time.”

  “I told him that and suggested they keep moving to India. Reza is an architect and managed to make a little bit of money through development contracts. That’s what he’s using to get his sister out.”

  “He told you his whole life story in the few minutes you guys were shopping?” Alessa’s voice held amusement.

  “I guess for better or worse, the four of us are on this journey together. He doesn’t totally trust Ali, either. Figures it would be good if we were aligned. He also guessed that we are not local and outright asked me whether I was American, Canadian or European.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Alessa said. And neither was Luke when Reza had asked. Most of the people they’d encountered probably hadn’t believed their cover either, but so far no one had questioned them—likely because of the wad of Afghani notes Luke kept in his pocket.

  “Life is so tentative here,” Luke mused. “Reza made it sound like he didn’t fully believe he could make it across the border but wanted to die trying.”

  “Amine was the same way.” Alessa’s voice was soft, her head a warm weight on his arm. “But her I understand. When you live under the threat of violence every day, you almost hope that death will come knocking soon.”

  The blood in his veins turned to ice, his stomach twisting painfully. “Is that what it was like for you growing up?”

  She didn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. He could feel it in the way her body slumped.

  “You know, last year I was helping a friend in Guam and I met this doctor—her name is Anna. She had lost her infant son and couldn’t find a way to grieve for him, so she went around the world working one disaster after another, hoping to forget what happened to her.”

  “Is that what you think I’m doing in the army?” Alessa pulled away from him and he turned to face her, grateful that she’d lifted the veil and he could look directly into her soft brown eyes.

  “I think you want very much to find happiness but you don’t know how to move past what’s happened to you.”

  Her eyes widened and he winced at the tears starting to form in them. Since when had he become a therapist?

  He expected her to shut down, tell him this whole conversation was none of his business, which it wasn’t. He had no right to get into her personal life.

  “I was going to say that my personal life is none of your concern, but that seems petty right now when I look at Reza and Amine sitting in the front seat, and the fact that a stray bullet could hit us at any second.”

  That was one thing about coming to a place like Afghanistan; the country had a way of reminding him just how much he took for granted on a daily basis.

  “So what about you? Since you’re lecturing me about finding happiness, how do you make the most of your life?” Alessa asked.

  He laughed. “What you do mean?”

  “Well for starters, do you have a girlfriend or someone special?” Alessa tried to keep her face nonchalant but the slight lean of her body and quirk of her mouth told him it was more than a passing curiosity.

  He smiled, then pinned her with a steady gaze. “I don’t have a girlfriend. I would have told you early on if I did.”

  Her cheeks colored and he smiled.

  “That’s surprising,” she said cheekily.

  “Not everything you hear about me is true. You should know that the army has a way of exaggerating.”

  She smiled slowly and his heart gave that kick again. “This is true.”

  “How about you? Anyone special in your life?”

  She shook her head. “It’s hard in the army. You know how it is, being stationed in all kinds of places. The only people I meet are other soldiers.”

  “Have you ever been in love with anyone?” he asked.

  She froze, then shook her head. “Maybe I thought I was, but I don’t think I’ve really been in love.”

  He wondered if she was talking about Aidan Connors. The way she’d stood up for him implied that she’d had feelings for him. His chest burned at the thought of Alessa being with someone like Aidan. The man was a total user; that was obvious from the way his file read. A quick rise through the army without the commendations that should have come with such promotions, glowing recommendations from senior officers. He was the kind of guy who irritated Luke. Rather than put in the time and bravery needed to rise in the army, he brown-nosed his way to the top. He was a younger version of Colonel McBride. He had preyed on Alessa, and when his nefarious plan had backfired, he’d scapegoated her.

  “What about you? Ever truly been in love?”

  A painful tightness engulfed his chest. He nodded, then looked away from her. Silence settled between them, letting in the sound of the truck’s noisy engine and splat of the wheels against the poorly maintained gravel road. “Her name was Nazneen. She was an Iraqi girl from one of the villages we patrolled, but she spoke English. In fact, she was a teacher and had set up an informal education program for the village girls.” The countryside flashed before him but his mind retreated to that little one-room school Nazneen had built of mud and straw so the girls could be in a room without distractions.

  “Nazneen was something else. Every time I came out on patrol, she extracted something from me in exchange for information. All of the villagers did that, but she didn’t ask for money or food like most of them did. She asked for books. For the kids she taught.”

  He remembered vividly how her eyes would shine as he’d hand her the notebooks where kids could practice writing letters. She would clutch them to her chest like they were bars of gold and give him a smile so brilliant, he would think of nothing else for the rest of the day.

  “How did she die?” Alessa asked so softly that he only heard her through the comms system.

  He looked at her.
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  “You talk about her in the past tense,” she said gently.

  “Insurgents blew up the village. As a statement to the army because we had informants there. I was the one who had befriended most of the villagers, softened them up with food and money in exchange for information.” His voice cracked and Alessa reached out to squeeze his hand.

  “You are not responsible for her death.”

  He shook his head. “I was late getting out on patrol that day. If I hadn’t been, maybe I would’ve seen something, been there to stop it…”

  “Or gotten blown up with her,” Alessa finished for him.

  He sighed. “It’s not like there was ever going to be a happily ever after for us. She was in love with someone else. A boy from her village who had left for Baghdad to look for work. He’d been gone two years, but she was adamant in her love and loyalty to him. I told her I didn’t care, that I had enough love for the two of us but she said it didn’t work that way.” Why was he telling Alessa all this? He’d mentioned Nazneen to others, more as a way to keep her alive in his own mind, but he never went into the details.

  “She was right, you know,” Alessa said. “Love is a two-way street. No matter how much you love someone, you can’t be happy knowing their heart isn’t with you.”

  Once again, he wondered whether she was talking about Aidan. “Were you ever close to falling in love?”

  She bit her lip and her eyes grew distant, as if it was her turn to live in a different place. He knew if he said Aidan’s name, she would tell him what was in her heart, but he wanted it to come from her.

  “It’s not important,” she muttered and he felt another painful squeeze in his chest. He let his arm drop from around her. There was a difference between true feelings and the adrenaline-fueled emotions that being in the sandbox generated. It was hard not to reach out for human connection after seeing the devastation that war caused, both literally and figuratively. In a world where every person had a story that took one’s heart and ripped it out of their chest, it was only natural to seek comfort in someone close by.

  It wasn’t just a phenomenon of war. His mother had sought that back home when she was all alone and needed someone to share her soul with.

  Luke had learned the hard way how short-term such connections were. It was how short his connection to Alessa would be.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  NIGHTFALL ON THE Khyber brought an icy wind. They were at over three thousand feet in elevation in the middle of the Spin Ghar Mountains. Known as the Silk Road, the Khyber Pass had been a strategic military route for centuries. Yet one wouldn’t know it from looking at the punishing terrain and awe-inspiring beauty.

  Ali had parked the pickup in a small camp and hidden it under a camouflaged net covered with leaves and twigs. The camp was made up of three small tents, the kind Boy Scouts might take to a campout. A communal fire roared in the center.

  “What is this place?” Luke asked.

  “Rest stop for our passengers. Brothers who do this work create this.” Ali sounded proud, as if he really were a tour guide showing off a state-of-the-art rest area. “You go warm yourselves by the fire, I’ll make tea for us.”

  Alessa didn’t know what to expect from the other “passengers” crowded around the fire pit. No one introduced themselves but they gave each other polite nods. There were two obvious Westerners, a woman with red hair tucked underneath a loosely draped scarf and a thin, brown-haired man with lines etched into his forehead.

  “Fantastic view right over there, but be careful where you walk.” The redheaded woman was British. In the darkness, the light from the fire flickered across her face, giving it an orange glow.

  Amine and Reza stepped in the direction indicated by the redhead so Luke and Alessa followed. There was almost a collective gasp. Both Amine and Alessa lifted their veils so they could get a proper look. They were on a precipice that dropped into a valley between the arid slopes. The full moon reflected off the rock face, outlining the vast mountains around them and the narrow, serpentine road that cut, impossibly, between them.

  “Kipling’s sword cut through the mountains,” Reza said.

  “Rudyard Kipling?” Alessa clarified.

  He nodded, turning toward her, and for the first time, Alessa got a full look at him. He was nearly six feet tall, his dark eyes accentuated by long black lashes. He had a mop of curly hair and an easy smile that did little to hide the terror that was plain in his eyes.

  He didn’t seem to mind that Alessa’s veil was off, so she didn’t bother to lower it.

  “Yes, he described the Khyber that way.”

  “An apt description.”

  “For centuries now, armies have used this Silk Road to conquer more territory and land. Each one takes something for themselves but leaves us with nothing.”

  The despair in his low voice tore at her. She didn’t want to get into an argument about politics with Reza, but she understood what he was trying to say.

  “I hear you are an architect?”

  He nodded. “I came home to help with the rebuilding. I came to make a better Afghanistan.” He sounded weary and defeated. Alessa wanted to find words to give him hope and comfort. But Luke cut in before she had a chance.

  “We’re going to have to climb upward to get to Londi Kotwal, and then go across the mountain.” His voice was businesslike, and irrationally, Alessa missed the deep warmth it had held when they were sitting in the back of the pickup.

  She’d thought about opening up and telling him about Aidan, but hadn’t been able to bring herself to say the words out loud. How could she explain that she had fallen for a married man? After what Luke had shared about his family life. While she didn’t sense any malice toward his mother, the deep disappointment had been clear in his eyes. Alessa didn’t want him to judge her.

  It wasn’t as if she’d never thought about Aidan’s wife, but Aidan had shown her the divorce papers she’d sent. It was perhaps the moment when Alessa and Aidan had truly gotten close, sitting together on a moonless night at a lookout post. It was the first time Alessa had shared a connection with someone, talked about her own past and let another human being comfort her. But how could she explain that to Luke without coming across as a home-wrecker?

  “What about the old railway?” Reza asked. There was a railway track that the British had built in the 1920s to ensure efficient transportation to India.

  “It flooded about a decade ago and is in bad shape. Besides, it’s so heavily used now that we might as well invite someone to come kidnap or rob us,” Luke explained.

  Alessa had looked at the satellite pictures of the railway. It was still used by smugglers and human traffickers. The latest intelligence was that the track was passable, but when Luke had asked Ali about it, Ali had insisted that recent rockfalls were blocking sections. The track would have been the easy way across, dropping them into a valley near Londi Kotwal, the border town to Pakistan. Alessa wasn’t sure whether Ali was steering them to, or away from, the safer path.

  “So are you two CIA or military?” Reza’s tone was matter-of-fact. Alessa couldn’t fully see Luke’s face but pictured him raising his brow. But they were away from Ali, out of earshot of anyone but the four of them. Luke answered in the predictable way. “What makes you think we’re CIA or military?”

  “Your accent slips in and out and your English is too good. We don’t speak like you do. What do you Americans call it…like the local way of saying something.”

  “Slang?” Alessa supplied, then shut her mouth.

  “Exactly. See, these are words that don’t come easily to our lips.” Reza smiled broadly. “You don’t have to tell me. To be telling the truth, I hope you are what you call those…” He waved his hands in a Karate Kid wax on, wax off move. “That way you can protect us if something happens.”

&n
bsp; All of them laughed, desperate to ease the tension. “I do not know if we can trust Ali. He seems like a good person but you never know of a person’s circumstance,” Reza said.

  They all nodded. Even if Ali’s intentions were good, any number of things could change his perspective. If he were faced with being hurt or killed, his priority would likely be to save himself, not to protect any of his “passengers.”

  “I don’t know the pass. Once we get into Pakistan, I can be more helpful.” Luke said. Alessa smiled at him. It was hard to know who to trust, but in this moment, the four of them were allies and it was best to know where everyone stood.

  “I need to sit,” Amine said suddenly and all three of them went to grab her. Alessa and Reza helped her to a rock.

  “It’s all right, I think it’s just the baby kicking, nothing to be concerned with.”

  Reza locked eyes with Alessa, the plea clear in his big brown eyes. “Don’t worry.” Alessa said. “We will get her across.”

  Reza peeled back Amine’s burka sleeves and the sleeves of the shirt she was wearing underneath. Amine shook his head at him but he continued undeterred. Alessa’s stomach dropped and a knife-like pain twisted inside her gut. Amine’s arms were covered in bruises and the telltale circular wounds of cigarette burns. Some had barely scabbed over.

  Reza peeled back the top of her burka veil so more of her hair was showing, then turned her head. Alessa couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips. Despite the cold mountain air, her entire body heated. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen such a bad burn behind the ear but it had been a while since she’d come face-to-face with one.

  “Her husband and father-in-law did this to her. That’s what we’re running away from.” Reza said with barely suppressed anger.

  Amine was studying her hands, her lashes wet.

  “You know you don’t deserve this,” Alessa told her. “There is nothing you’ve ever done or will ever do in your life to deserve this.” Amine continued to look down so Alessa kneeled in front of her and clasped her hands in her own. “Amine, you must believe me—the men who do these things, they are weak men. That’s why they do it in places where they don’t have to look at the harm they’ve caused.” She knew that was why Amine’s face was unmarred. Alessa’s mother wore long sleeves and full pants, even on hot days, but her face was always perfect.

 

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