Out of the Shadows

by Melanie Mitchell

  “And I’m sure that’s not one of them!” Charlie interrupted. “Do you have pictures?”

  “I’ve got one.” She laughed, and conspiringly whispered, “I’ll show you later.”

  Trying to change the subject, Ben turned to precede the laughing pair into an apartment building. “Leslie, this is the temporary officers’ quarters. It’s for visiting officers and their families. Since there are no elevators, I was given a two-bedroom flat on the first floor. Charlie the Comic here is staying on the third floor. I thought you might want to freshen up before lunch, and then we can talk about...” He hesitated as he unlocked a door midway on the right-hand side of the hall and turned to her. His expression sobered as he searched her face. Quietly, he repeated, “Then we can talk.”

  He stood aside to allow her to enter.

  Charlie set her bag down just inside the door and said affably, “I have a couple of things I need to take care of upstairs. Why don’t I come back by in a half hour or so?” Not really waiting for a response he closed the door, chuckling to himself as he headed toward the stairs that led to his room.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ALONE WITH BEN, Leslie’s nervousness returned. To cover, she took a few moments to wander around the small room. The furnishings were fairly new and very clean. There was a kitchen area at the back and doors on either side of the room, obviously leading to bedrooms. She paused to gaze out the open window, watching several children on a small playground.

  She was still struggling to reconcile the faultlessly uniformed man with the irreverent, disreputable character she had known and, surprisingly, fallen in love with. The differences were more than physical, although the physical changes were striking. His demeanor and mannerisms were also different. He’d been playing a role in Kenya. Now she was meeting the real man—someone she’d only glimpsed traces of over the past few months. What was he really like?

  Silently, she chided herself. What’s wrong with you? Ben isn’t a stranger. You’re crazy in love with him! She took a couple of deep breaths to try to slow her pounding heart and control her trembling hands.

  * * *

  BEN WATCHED HER pace the small apartment. His heart had literally leaped when he’d first seen her. He ached with the need to pull her into his arms, hold her, keep her near him, love her. The exchange in the Jeep, however, had made him self-conscious, and her noticeable withdrawal suddenly left him doubting the strength of her feelings for him.

  He was certain Leslie had been overjoyed when she embraced him at the plane. But he could tell that his altered appearance and the subsequent revelations had been a significant shock. Plus, he had a niggling concern that perhaps she preferred his other persona after all. He shook his head at the thought that Leslie had fallen in love with the act and not him. No, he refused to believe that.

  The room seemed overly warm, so he doffed his coat and loosened his tie.

  To occupy himself, he headed toward the kitchen area, leaning lightly on the crutch. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked. “They do a good job of keeping these apartments stocked with the essentials—you know, milk, bread, peanut butter and soft drinks.”

  “Yes, that would be great,” she answered.

  She walked to where Ben was standing in the kitchen area removing glasses from a cabinet. “What can I do to help?” she inquired.

  He brushed her offer aside. “Nothing. Just have a seat. I know that air force transports don’t generally leave at what most people consider reasonable hours, and you’re probably tired.”

  Agreeably, Leslie sat down on the sofa and watched as Ben placed glasses and two cans of ginger ale on a large plate and deftly carried the drinks into the living area.

  Leslie took the plate from him and placed it on the coffee table. Setting his crutch aside, he sat down on the sofa near her. Leslie opened a can, filled both glasses and handed one to him. As she did, their hands brushed, and her heart raced. She averted her eyes, picked up her glass and took a sip, willing her hand not to shake. She was not completely successful. Attempting to hide her unease, she set the glass down and, with growing desperation, looked around the apartment, hoping to find something to discuss.

  Leslie’s shyness oddly helped dispel much of Ben’s tension. Following her example, he set his glass back on the plate and reached for her hands. “What’s wrong?”

  He was watching her face, but she was watching their hands. To direct her attention to him, he slowly brought both of her hands up and then kissed her fingers. “Leslie, talk to me. Please.”

  Hesitantly, her eyes moved from his lips to his eyes and her heart quickened at the look of love she saw there. “I know it’s silly.” She shifted nervously and reached up to tentatively skim her hand across his cheek and then his hair. “It’s just that you’re so different from before.... In some ways, you’re almost a stranger.” She bit her lip and said quietly, “Could you...would you just hold me for a minute?”

  Placing her arms around his neck, she buried her face in the light blue cotton fabric of his shirt.

  “That would be my pleasure, ma’am.” Responding to her touch, he pulled her even closer, adjusting their positions until she was sitting on his lap. When she started to protest, he shushed her. “Don’t worry. My leg is fine.” His voice was soft.

  She settled against him, her head resting on his chest, and slowly relaxed as he gently stroked her back and arms. Her words were slightly breathless. “This helps. I know how you feel. This feels familiar.”

  “Well, all right then.” She felt the smile when his lips brushed her hair. “I guess I’ll just have to keep on holding you.” He pulled away a little and gazed down at her. Then, carefully gauging her reaction, he touched her lips with his. He was rewarded with complete surrender as she answered his kiss.

  After a moment, he placed his hands on her arms and gently eased away. Tears threatened again when she looked back at him, and his heart melted anew.

  “Ben... I was so scared!” Her voice was hoarse with emotion, and a single tear slid down her cheek. She whispered, “I love you.”

  He pulled her head down onto his shoulder and stroked her hair. “Leslie, I love you more than I can express... I want more than anything right now to be with you. But...” He repositioned her, placing her on the sofa beside him, facing him. She looked away, and he put his hand on her chin to draw her eyes back to his. “Leslie, I understand how you feel. I want you to feel that way about me. I want you to want me. I want you to let me love you, and we will—I hope really soon. But right now, we need to talk.” He sighed deeply. “And besides, Charlie will be back in about fifteen minutes.”

  The frustration evident in his last declaration startled a giggle from Leslie, and Ben could tell that his confession had comforted her. The adoration in her eyes produced an abrupt change in the plans he’d been formulating since his extraction from Kenya. Intently watching her, he said, “Um...Leslie, you haven’t answered my question.”

  She gave him a puzzled look. “What question?”

  “The letter...”

  Her lips rolled inward before they broke into a huge smile. Her arms clung to his neck again, and she blessed him with multiple kisses on his cheeks and lips. Words were absent as she pulled back to take in his face.

  “Okay. Well, I’ll take that as a yes.” Ben’s voice was hoarse. “Then, I have something that’s yours.” He reached into the breast pocket of his shirt and picked up her left hand. “Leslie, please marry me,” he said as he slid a ring onto her finger.

  Her gaze moved from his face to their joined hands, and she gasped. “Where did you...? How did you...?” She gulped and stared at the stunning oval sapphire.

  His hand slipped from her chin to gently touch her cheek. It was a moment before she could answer. “Today, Ben. Can we get married today?”

  He kissed her tenderly. W
ith a brief laugh he said, “Today? Honey, are you sure that’s what you want?” He studied her face. “Are you certain you don’t want a real wedding with family and flowers?”

  Needing to touch him, her hands caught his. She saw joy in his sea-colored eyes. “Ben, I don’t care about getting married. I just want to be married to you.”

  He cleared his throat and answered, “All right then. I’m not real sure we can manage today, but we can try.” He laughed and kissed her again. “I was afraid you might want to wait until we got back home, but I’m really glad you feel like I do.”

  She looked back at the ring and shook her head. “Ben, it’s absolutely beautiful.” Her eyes were shining, and all traces of shyness were gone. She gave him a wry smile. “But what if I hadn’t come? Or I might have said no.”

  “Leslie, I didn’t let myself even consider the possibility that you wouldn’t come. As to your saying no...” He shrugged. “I’m very patient. I would have persisted until you gave in.” His expression became more serious as he continued. “You’ve become the most important thing in my life.” He waited a heartbeat, then grinned again. “Besides, I have another ring that goes with that one. You can have it, too, just as soon as you marry me.”

  Leslie smiled as she said teasingly, “You know, I had plans of my own.”

  At his questioning look, she continued. “I was going to find you, no matter what it took. I would have gone to Florida to see your parents—I got their address from the mission—and I would’ve bribed, begged or pleaded with them to help me find you.”

  He was smiling when he interrupted. “What were you going to do when you found me?”

  “Well. I hadn’t exactly thought that far ahead.” She looked pensive for a moment and then smiled. “Probably bribed, begged and pleaded until you agreed to marry me.”

  There was laughter in his voice as he said, “Not that I needed convincing, but I’d like to know what you would’ve said.”

  Leslie was playfully pensive. “Hmm, let’s see...I’m a really good cook when I have a stove that always works and a supermarket around the corner.... I know all the rules of football—I was a Cowboys fan from way back.” She gazed at the ceiling and then back at him. “What else? I’d like for you to teach me how to fly.” She suddenly grew serious. “And I love you so much I ache. I want to take care of you...and, I want you to be the father of my children.” Her voice had been light and carefree, but near the end of her recitation, it cracked with emotion.

  He gently reached up to push her hair away from her brow. “So, how many children do you want?”

  It took a moment for her to answer. Frowning slightly in a hushed voice, she said, “Ben, I really don’t know.... Until now I haven’t thought about it.”

  Suddenly dealing with a flood of new and different emotions, she pulled away. She rose and walked a couple of paces toward the kitchen. “I want more children...not to replace Emma. I can’t replace her. I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s like—well—how I feel about you compared with how I felt about Brian. I’m not replacing Brian.... What I feel for you is something different.”

  She faced him again and saw the animation was gone from his expression. He seemed to have withdrawn, and he appeared hurt or even a little angry. “Ben, no. Please listen. I want to explain. I need you to understand that I loved Brian with all of my heart. But my love for you is somehow more and somehow beyond how I loved him. Because of the loss, I’m different. Because I loved him, I know how precious love is, and how tenuous life is.”

  She bit her lip and looked at Ben, imploring him to understand. “I’m afraid, desperately afraid of losing you the way I lost him. But much more desperately, I want to be with you. When I didn’t know what had happened to you, the urgency grew stronger. I needed you—I needed to be with you all the more.” She took a breath and finished. “And Ben, I feel the same about more children. I am terrified about the possibility of loss, but I’m much, much more frightened by the thought of never having those feelings again.”

  Ben’s eyes were dark with emotion. He had been trying to keep the conversation light and carefree, but somehow it had taken a serious turn. He instinctively recognized that he was facing another of what might be many instances when patience and love would be required to help her past the lingering shadows.

  He stood and limped toward her. He reached out a hand to lightly caress her cheek and said in a quiet voice, “Leslie, I love you. You are the one, the only woman for me, and I’ve been searching for you my whole life.” He let his hand skim down her arm and then lightly clasp her hand. “I’m here. I’m yours. Love me, and let me love you.” Then he grinned. “And please, please, use me to make as many babies as you want!”

  She blessed him with a watery smile. “Okay, but I have one condition that you must absolutely and positively agree to.”

  He looked skeptical. “A condition? What kind of condition?”

  By clenching her jaw, Leslie was able to keep a straight face. “If someday we are fortunate enough to have a baby boy...” She paused and looked at him seriously. “Under no circumstance will we name him Herman.”

  The smile that crossed his face made her heart jump. He pulled her into yet another embrace. He was laughing when he answered, “You’ve got a deal.”

  * * *

  THE NEXT SEVERAL hours were a blur of activity. Immediately, Ben and Leslie went in search of Charlie. He agreed to help as much as possible but insisted on first taking the newly engaged couple to lunch.

  The two men were enormously entertaining throughout the meal at the Officers’ Club. Their banter, along with Ben’s obvious infatuation, helped alleviate Leslie’s nervousness. It also gave her time to observe him without his facade, and she desperately needed to reconcile what she thought she knew with reality.

  As she nibbled her salad, she managed to turn the men’s conversation from the major league baseball season to Ben’s activities in Kenya. During a break in the conversation she said, “Okay, Ben. You have some explaining to do.” She pointed to his uniform and shook her head. “I had no idea...”

  He nodded and leaned forward slightly, his demeanor less casual than before.

  “I know... You’re right,” he agreed. He took a deep breath. “Okay. As I told you, I was stationed in D.C. when it became clear that my marriage was over. I considered trying to get back into training for the B-1, but I’d been out of it for nearly two years, and that didn’t seem to be a viable option. Then an air force liaison approached me with an assignment. The CIA wanted to embed an agent in East Africa. They needed someone on the ground who could gather and evaluate data on potential threats to our assets in the region.

  “I was a good fit because I was already assigned to the Pentagon and had high security clearance. I’d been raised in the area, was familiar with the cultures, and spoke several of the languages and dialects. So I could easily mix with the various groups and factions.” He took a sip of beer. “I was fairly well-known in the region, so it was necessary for us to manufacture a falling-out with the air force—to give legitimacy to my return. So we concocted a story about my being dishonorably discharged. The persona just kind of took off from there. It quickly became known that I drank too much, would do pretty much anything to make a buck, and—” he studied Leslie “—that I...er...pursued women.”

  She glanced at Charlie, who simply shrugged. She frowned then said, “Well, go on.”

  “At first I was mostly involved in reconnaissance. After a while, I let it be known that I was interested in smuggling. Initially, it was supposed to be alcohol and animal skins—I wouldn’t even pretend to smuggle drugs.” He gave her a wry look. “Quickly, though, I made the transition to getting involved with arms dealers, which was our objective from the beginning.”

  Charlie interrupted Ben by asking, “When did you start working the Pakistan connections?�
�

  Ben glanced around the room, then leaned forward. Dropping his voice he answered, “Only about a year ago. Up until then, I was focusing on small runners who sold to local chiefs. In that capacity, I was able to help stop some of the arms going to Somali thugs who pass themselves off as pirates.” He shook his head in disgust. “It was a joy to shut them down.

  “Anyway, about a year ago, I learned of a Pakistani broker who was selling a variety of weapons through Mombasa and Mogadishu—SAMs and rocket-propelled grenades, along with other small missiles manufactured in China and North Korea. These were being traded and sold into Libya, Syria and Iran to insurgents and terrorist groups. Rasheesh didn’t care who he sold to, he just cared about his bottom line.”

  “Rasheesh?” Leslie paled and swallowed hard. “He’s the one who tried to kill you?” It was both a question and a statement.

  Ben looked grim. Taking her hand, he said, “Yes, Les. I am truly sorry. I should never have involved you in that sordid mess.” He addressed Charlie, “You see, I...well, accidentally took Leslie on my last meeting with Rasheesh.”

  “Accidentally?” Charlie repeated.

  “I didn’t intend to; it just worked out that way.” He turned back to Leslie. “Ironically, your being there probably served to seal the deal. You see, despite my reputation, they didn’t trust me. They suspected I was a spy. But my bringing you along that day helped dispel their doubts. As far as they were concerned, only a sold-out bottom-dweller with no scruples would bring a woman with him to a meeting of that sort.”

  He shook his head. “Leslie, the truth is, had I not taken you with me, they probably would’ve turned me away, or maybe even killed me. As it was, I cut a deal that gave me access to vital information regarding arms shipments.” He paused, hesitating to tell her more.

  Seeing that his friend had stopped, Charlie huffed, casting a significant glance at Leslie. “The rest of the story—what Mr. Oh-Shucks-It-Was-No-Bother isn’t telling you—is that he was able to give the location of and details about the shipments to his CIA and DOD contacts. In turn, they sent teams of SEALs to board the vessels. After confirmation...well...” He grinned. “The ships met with unfortunate accidents at sea, and the SAMs, missile launchers, and other assorted implements of destruction are now at the bottom of the Indian Ocean.”