by Dale Mayer
“Me too,” she said softly.
His thumb moved along her lower lip, gently caressing her soft skin. Feeling like he was on the precipice again of another change in their relationship, he dropped his head and kissed her a little bit harder, a little bit deeper, a little more passionately. Then pulled back. There was an audience, whether they were conscious or unconscious, and Dr. Carter was here somewhere. In a husky voice, he whispered, “Hold that thought.”
He grabbed his belongings and strode from the tent. He wished to hell he could go back out in the field but knew that wouldn’t happen today. Not with his injuries. He might have gotten away with the stitches in his head but not with his arm injuries.
He entered his barracks, tossed his bloody clothing on the end of his bed and threw himself atop the blanket on his bunk. His skull was splitting. The painkillers he’d been given only muted the pain.
Corey found him there a few minutes later. “Good news. The medical team is on their way in. They don’t appear to be any worse for wear. We’ll call this a successful mission.”
“Like hell.” It was never a successful mission if he got hurt. On the other hand, the mission had been accomplished. He was good with that.
“So what happened with you and Caitlyn?”
“Nothing,” Ryder said quietly. “I said ‘Thank you,’ kissed her goodbye and left.”
Corey nodded. “That’s a good thing.”
Ryder thought about it. “I’ve never felt that way with anybody else. Just with her.”
“This is you being unsure of her. You’re scared to make the wrong move and have her walk out of your life again.”
That was just a little too damn true. “Not a whole lot I can do about it if she does.”
Corey walked out of their quarters, calling back, “I might take her a coffee. Have a talk with her myself.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Ryder called out but was too late. Corey was gone.
Corey had been hard on Caitlyn since he’d learned what happened between them. Ryder hoped Corey would ease up.
The more Ryder lay here, the more he worried. He trusted Corey, but Ryder also knew how edgy Corey was right now. Really, Ryder should be the one who took Caitlyn a coffee. Or maybe he could follow up with a meal.
As he lay stewing, Devlin and Easton came back in and updated him on the rest of the team. By the time they were done, Corey returned, and Ryder realized he’d missed his chance.
Corey smiled at him. “She’s doing fine.”
Ryder rolled his eyes. He glanced at his watch. “I need food.”
The men got up. Corey asked, “Are you coming, or do you want us to bring you back something?”
“I’m coming.” He stood and wavered. Then on guts alone he said, “Hold two places at the table. I’ll see if Caitlyn is hungry.”
With knowing grins, the men walked out.
Ryder struggled into a clean T-shirt and slowly walked to the clinic.
She looked up in surprise, then bounced to her feet. “You shouldn’t be up and walking around,” she scolded.
He chuckled. “I came to see if you have time for a meal. Can you leave?”
She shook her head. “I can’t. There’s no one else to cover for me.”
“Can I bring you something?” he offered.
Surprise lit up her beautiful chocolate-colored eyes, making her smile all that more real. “That would be very nice.” She handed him her empty coffee cup. “Corey brought this for me. If you wouldn’t mind taking it back, that would be great.”
He nodded and said, “I’ll bring you a tray and more coffee.”
She grinned. “Thanks.”
As he was about to leave when he realized something felt unfinished. He turned to look back at her. She was staring at him questioningly. He sighed. “It seems like I can’t leave without doing this anymore.” He leaned down and kissed her. This time he left with a smile.
She wore one too.
*
He was still smiling when he walked into what passed for a dining room. After years of being in the military, he’d eaten in some strange conditions. But this was clean and quiet, and his head appreciated that. Plus, it was nice to have a lighter heart. Right now it was just a joy to know he had Caitlyn back in his life, and they were sharing a few kisses here and there. Her tour was almost up, and she’d be back in California soon. That would provide them both more time off together.
At the table, the guys looked at him strangely. He dropped the smile and said, “What’s the matter? Not used to seeing me happy?”
All three shook their heads.
Leaving them, he collected food for himself. As he walked down the line, he tried to assess what Caitlyn would like. He knew her food tastes as well as his own, but there were only so many choices.
Finally, he sat down with the rest of his men, where the discussion quickly fell to work and the missions. While they sat, Mason entered. Along with him were six other SEALs who Ryder knew. The discussion moved to the day’s mission as they hashed and rehashed what had gone down.
Dinner was over soon enough, with groups breaking up. Ryder excused himself from the table and said, “I promised Caitlyn that I’d take her some food.” She wouldn’t leave that clinic until she was relieved from duty, and he wanted to make sure she had enough for the night. He had coffee, water and a juice to go with the food. The challenge was to carry it with his bad arm.
Caitlyn took one look and bolted toward him. “You know you’re not supposed to be using that arm yet,” she scolded. “It’s bad enough you’re up at all but to be using your arm like you are …”
“I’m barely touching the tray,” he protested. “Besides, I didn’t want to see you go hungry.”
She took the tray from him and carried it to a desk at the far end. The lights in the center were turned down, and he could see many of the men were sleeping. A couple more were lying in bed, resting.
“How’s everything here?” he asked.
“It’s fine. Dr. Robertson is back from leave. He came to check on me, but I sent him off to get dinner. When he returns, I’ll take a few hours downtime myself.”
“What about the rest of the medical team? I heard they were back safe and sound.”
She nodded. “Yes, but they are going to Baghdad for several days.” She smiled. “More staff is coming to relieve them.”
“When is your tour up?”
“One week.” She gave him a smile. “One week and then I’m home.” She glanced at his arm. “How long will you be off work?”
He shrugged. “It’s too early to tell. A week maybe. Then I’m on partial duty after that.”
“Stateside?” she asked hopefully.
He grinned. “Maybe. I can’t wait. I’d really love to spend more time with you there.”
She glanced around the room, knowing others could hear them. In a low voice she said, “Yeah, me too.” She patted his cheek gently and said, “Now go to bed and rest.”
He gave her a wicked grin. “Not sure I want to go alone.”
She flushed bright red. “Nothing else is an option right now. Not with that arm like it is. Besides, are you sure you want me now that you know what I did and why?”
“It’s only you I want, warts and all,” he said with a smile. “It’s always only been you.”
She gave him a startled look, and her jaw dropped. “Really?”
He nodded. “Really. If you take away only one thing from this, know that is the truth.”
She allowed a beautiful, breathtaking smile to cross her face.
Chapter 17
After Ryder walked out, she studied the tray of food. She hadn’t been hungry before, but now, seeing the bounty before her, she was dying to dive in. But Ryder’s words fired through her mind. She wanted to believe him. Lord, she really did. Was it possible? Was she ready? Well, of course she wasn’t, but she wanted to be.
More guards came in to keep an eye on the place, so hopefully there’d be no mo
re problems. But the medical supply issue worried her. The enemy had cleaned out their inventory, which meant the rebels had a great need themselves. Of course medicine and supplies were easy cash on the black market. But still, it didn’t feel right.
Just then Dr. Robertson walked in. His phone rang as he greeted her, and he sat down to answer it.
She only half heard the conversation as she plowed into her food. Something about roast beef and mashed potatoes made everything feel like home.
When Dr. Robertson bolted to his feet and looked at her, she stopped chewing and stared back. As he continued to speak into his phone, she resumed eating but kept an eye on him. She didn’t know what was going on, but something obviously was. She might not get much chance to eat more, so she attacked the rest of her plate with a hearty gusto.
When he got off the phone, he walked over to the chair and sat down in front of her. He watched as she swallowed water to clear her mouth.
“What’s going on?” she asked as soon as she could.
“The rest of our team has been interviewed, and some of the information was a little disturbing. It took a bit of time for the information to make its way down to us, as of course we don’t have clearance,” he said with an eye roll and a grin. He turned and nodded toward a couple guards at the entrance. “And explains why we are heavily guarded.”
“Why?”
“Apparently your name was mentioned several times, as was mine, to the rest of the medical team.”
She sank back with her coffee cup in her hand and stared at him over the rim. “What? Why would they care?”
“They were angry we weren’t part of the second group kidnapped.” His face grim, he added, “Apparently the team was roughed up a little bit until the enemy could understand why we weren’t there.”
“This is bizarre. Why do they care?”
“The brass thinks we may have seen somebody or something we shouldn’t have.”
She stared at the doctor in shock. “We didn’t see anything in the area.”
“But what we did see might’ve been important.” He glanced toward the opening of the tent as he heard approaching footsteps. “The brass is hoping we can tell them what might be so important that we were supposed to be kidnapped again.”
Bewildered she watched as several men came toward her. Not military police but special investigators. She cleaned up her place, removing the half-eaten meal, and set the tray off to the side. And then the questions started.
“Did you see anybody you recognized?”
“No.”
“Did you see their leader?”
“How would we know who their leader was?” she asked, then shook her head. “No.”
“Have you had any contact before, during or after with any of those men?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t understand all these questions.”
“We’re trying to figure out why they want you back.”
“Because we escaped? Pissed them off? They had too many injured?” She could only hazard a guess, but the expression on the men’s faces didn’t change.
“Okay,” she said. “They took us because they had injured we were supposed to help.”
Dr. Robertson nodded. “One man was already dead. The second man survived with a head injury. The third man was shot. We treated him as best we could, but it was rough.”
“Even if he survived, they shot both of them anyway,” she said. “It didn’t make any sense that we were kidnapped to administer medical aid, and then they turned around and killed them and our guards.”
The taller of the two men turned to look at her. “Who shot who?”
She frowned. “A different man. He came in with a rifle, fired downward at the injured men, then shot the guards.”
She turned to look at Dr. Robertson. “Isn’t that right?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t see it all. I was already moving ahead.” He glanced at her. “You didn’t mention all of that.”
She shrugged. “After Ryder cut the tent and we left, I looked back several times. There was a kerfuffle, and then the man closest to the opening shot them all. I figured he did that because the guards failed to keep us secure. Ryder saw it too.”
“But there was no need to kill the men already hurt,” one of the interviewers said. “What were the ages of the injured men?”
“The one with the head injury was older, maybe mid-forties.” She gave a brief description of what she could remember. “The other man was not as old, maybe early thirties.”
A few questions later, they realized the two men who’d been alive and most likely shot were officers in the rebel group. Leaders. “Are we assuming that, because I saw this one man killing everybody in that tent, he’s now after me? Why would they care?”
Silence followed.
“Because,” Dr. Robertson said slowly, “maybe they don’t know for sure who shot their leader, and they want you to identify the killer.”
Everybody stared at her. “I can’t possibly identify anyone. I saw the shooting because of the shadows. I could recognize the two men who stood outside the tent, but then so could you. But it’s not like we knew the men.”
“It’s not just you they want. It’s also Dr. Robertson.”
Dr. Robertson and Caitlyn exchanged glances. At the same time they turned to look at the interviewers. “Is the rest of the team coming back?”
The men shook their heads. One of the interviewers said, “No. This camp is being decommissioned.”
Caitlyn nodded. “I have one week left. Then I’m shipping stateside.”
The men nodded. “And you might be leaving earlier. What we want to avoid is a third incident.”
In a firm voice she said, “I trust you guys to take care of me and everybody else here. Two attacks is already two too many.”
The man gave her a hard look and a clipped nod. “Indeed.” They got up and left.
She stared at the doorway, then turned to look at Dr. Robertson. “Are we really in danger?”
“The military is moving everyone out. The camp will no longer be used as a base for military operations, at least until this last year of action has been reviewed,” he said quietly. “At this point it’s best if the enemy sorts themselves without involving us any further. They are changing leadership every five minutes it seems. Somebody kills off the leader and takes his spot, with another dozen eager men to take advantage and move up. So best to leave them to their own system of infighting.”
“Oh, I agree with that.” She nodded.
“I imagine we’ll have our orders within a few hours.”
She snorted. “Good. Our supplies that came in are long gone. It’s all bizarre.” She eyed him carefully. “Where will you end up?”
He tossed her a grin. “I’m kind of hoping for the FOB just outside Baghdad. I’d like to finish the next few months there.”
“That would be nice for you.” Still she was happy to have the guards and the extra sense of security as she checked on their patients. The last thing she wanted was to experience any more of the ugly side of life.
*
The military was a well-oiled machine. Setting up and pulling down a camp was nothing but good practice for them. Organized chaos was what Ryder called it. But there was a method to it. As everything moved swiftly around him, he jumped in to help where he could. He refused to sit around and do nothing while everyone else worked, even if he was using his arm too much. Thank heavens for the painkillers. Easton and Devlin were having a lot of fun at his expense. If it wouldn’t make his arm worse, he’d have punched them out.
Easton said, “Ryder, you should be resting somewhere.”
“Like hell,” he responded yet again. “Not going to lie down. Or rest or anything else you think I should do.”
A severe urgency inside him wouldn’t let him sit back and relax. He wanted to make sure they all got the hell away from this place. He’d heard the rumors about an enemy coup in progress, somebody looking for Caitlyn
to confirm who shot who. He’d been interviewed himself soon afterward. He’d confirmed what Caitlyn said but hadn’t been able to add much. There was no winning in this situation. It was also very hard, if not almost impossible, to identify all the various players in a fast-moving game like this. The best thing they could do was get her the hell away. And fast.
With that uppermost in his mind, he walked to the medical tent to see how it was progressing. He found the tent already down, boxes and supplies stacked off to the side, men all over the place. But of Caitlyn … there was no sign. He glanced around and frowned.
Catching one of the soldiers beside him, he asked, “Where’s the medical team?”
“I think they were shipped out early,” he said, lifting a box, placing it on another. “Shouldn’t you be leaving too?” He motioned at the sling and bandages on Ryder’s arm.
Ryder shrugged. “In theory, yeah.” He took another look around. “I’m looking for Caitlyn, the nurse.”
“Good luck with that. Most of the phones aren’t working right now either.”
Ryder nodded. “I noticed.”
He walked the small area but didn’t see any sign of Caitlyn. Several trucks had already pulled out, and helicopters had flown in and out. If the enemy knew what they were doing, it would make them happy. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw somebody with a white coat. He raced after him. “Dr. Robertson, wait up.”
The doctor turned. “Hey, Ryder.” He glanced at his arm. “You should be resting.”
Ryder waved his concern away. “Where’s Caitlyn?”
Dr. Robertson turned and looked around. “I have no idea. We were packing up this morning. Somebody called to talk to her.” He shrugged. “Honestly, it’s chaos here.”
With a sinking feeling in his heart, Ryder asked, “How long ago was that?”
“I don’t know,” Dr. Robertson frowned. “Do you think something happened to her?”
