Broken Soldier: A Novel

by Clara Frost

  “I don’t think the Air Force Academy is going to want a crippled Army vet.”

  “Don’t know until you ask, do you?” Paul stood up. “Hate to change the subject, but I need to get cleaned up and get on out of here. I’ve got a case that needs my attention.”

  Rafa pushed himself to his feet and followed Paul out of the gym. Talking to Emily was a daunting prospect. He knew how he felt about her, but he still had doubts about how she felt about him.

  Halfway to the locker room, he started laughing.

  “What?” Paul asked.

  “Do you realize how much relationships and warfare have in common? You go into something knowing just enough facts to get yourself in trouble, you do the best you can, and you hope no one gets shot.”

  “Rafa, bro, I’m glad I got you hooked up with Emily. You need a shrink, dude.”

  Rafa slugged him with his good hand. He realized that he’d had a flaw in his reasoning. He did have a mission. He needed to talk to Emily.

  #

  Emily picked at her salad, shifting tomatoes and cucumbers without really intending to eat any of them. Christa sat across from her, a half-finished club sandwich still dripping mayo onto the plate. Sometimes Emily hated her best friend for being thin and able to eat whatever she wanted.

  “How’s work going?” Christa asked.

  “It’s alright. I saw a boy this week that reminds me so much of myself when I was a kid. I feel so bad for him.”

  “Well, that means you can help him, right?” Christa took a bite of her sandwich.

  Another pang of jealousy speared Emily. She jabbed a piece of lettuce with her fork and dipped just the barest edge of it into her fat-free ranch--on the side, thank you very much. “I hope so. He’s having trouble at school because of his size. And unfortunately, his mother isn’t doing much to help.”

  “What about his dad?”

  “I’m not sure what he does, but his dad isn’t around very much.”

  Christa shrugged. “Well, good thing he has you, huh?”

  She made it sound so easy. So flippant. Eating disorders and body issues were harder problems than anyone really gave credit, and Emily knew it better than most. She glanced down at the napkin spread over her lap. Those thunder thighs were proof of that. Rub those babies together long enough, and you’d get fire.

  “Hey space cadet, come back down to Earth.” Christa grinned at her. “No pity parties today.”

  “I’m not having a pity party,” Emily said. “Just thinking about my client. He’s a good boy and he deserves better.”

  “Yeah, I know someone like that.” Christa gave her a look that left no doubt who she meant. “So tell me about Rafa. You haven’t scared him away yet, have you?”

  “Not yet. He was pretty weird the last time I saw him, though.”

  Christa’s easy grin tightened up into actual concern. “What’s that mean?”

  “He’s getting out of the Army. Probably. And so he’s trying to find a new job. In South Carolina.”

  “Oh. Shit.” The meat and tomato slid out of Christa’s sandwich, plopping onto her plate.

  “Yeah.”

  “So he just announced this to you as a done deal?”

  “Not quite.”

  “What do you mean? It matters, Em. If he hasn’t actually decided, it may mean that he wants to stay here.”

  “I don’t know what I mean. Why would he even want to stay? It’s Boulder. We have block parties for drunken college kids--”

  “It wasn’t so long ago that we were those college kids,” Christa interjected.

  “Yeah? Well, we’re not exactly carefree, anymore. And anyway, he doesn’t have anything to keep him here. I think he wants to go. He always talks about how the mountains remind him of Afghanistan.” Emily jammed the lettuce into her mouth and chewed furiously. Even with the dressing, it was bland.

  “And you’re worried you’re going to lose him.”

  “Of course I am!” The lady at the table beside them looked over, frowning. Emily covered her mouth, embarrassed that she’d actually yelled. “Sorry.” She turned back to Christa. “So yes, I’m worried that I’m going to lose him. He’s tender and caring and smart and--”

  “Handsome,” Christa said.

  “Extremely handsome. I think he still thinks I’m trying to analyze him. That I view him as some kind of project because of his physical differences.”

  “So you view him as a project because of his mental differences?”

  “No!”

  Christa laughed. “Just playing with you, Em. So it sounds to me like you two need to actually sit down and talk about this.”

  “Talk about what? We’ve only been seeing each other a month.”

  “So? I’m not saying you need to get engaged or go elope or something, but maybe you should try actually communicating and not turning this into a soap opera?”

  Emily sighed. “I know I should, but it’s a whole lot easier to talk about it with you than it is to actually go and do it.”

  “That’s called life, hon.”

  “I know. I think it would be easier if he were actually my patient. I wouldn’t be so emotionally attached.”

  Christa shook her head. “That’s not true. You can’t help but get attached, even to your patients. It’s who you are, Em. It’s why I love you. Hey, I have an idea for you, if you’re interested.”

  Emily scooted back slightly. Christa’s big ideas had a tendency to blow up in her face. Even Rafa, as amazing as he’d turned out, was tying her heart up in knots more often than not.

  “Alright, hit me.”

  “You know how my parents have that cabin up by Brainard Lake, right? Well, they’re in Florida until after Thanksgiving. If you and Rafa wanted to have a private get-away, you could go use it.”

  Emily mulled that. Going up into the mountains with someone as sexy as Rafa was a hard proposition to decline, but to go to Christa’s parents’ cabin? Calling it a cabin didn’t do it justice. With the fireplace and the hot tub and the ski slopes, it was more like a tiny resort than an actual cabin.

  “Maybe.”

  Christa shook her head. “What do you mean, maybe? Do you need me to play intermediary and call him for you? It’ll be like sixth grade. You write the note and I deliver it.”

  “No, I mean I don’t know if he’ll want to go. He’s pretty sensitive about physical activity right now. Something’s up with his leg. So I’ll talk to him and I’ll let you know, okay?”

  “Really?” Christa looked surprised.

  “Yeah, as long as you’re sure it’s okay with your parents.”

  “Oh, hell yes, it’s okay. They’ll be happy to have someone to actually use it this early in the season. Just wash the sheets, okay?”

  Emily rolled her eyes. “Alright. Deal.”

  A weekend up in the mountains didn’t sound like a bad idea, actually. And up that high, there would probably be powder on the slopes.

  “You thinking this weekend?” Christa asked.

  “It would have to be, I guess. Rafa said he’s being discharged in ten--well, five now--days.”

  “If you want, Paul and I could come hang out with you guys Friday evening.” She held up a hand, pushing off any possible protest. “We’ll leave before it gets too late.”

  “It’s your cabin, Chrissy. I’m not going to accept your hospitality and tell you that you aren’t welcome.”

  “Do I sense a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence?”

  Christa really should have been the shrink. She was practically a mind reader. The thought of spending a weekend along with Rafa was intoxicating, but it was selfish to think she could just have it all to herself.

  “Only that I don’t mind if you wanted to stay. I’ll pretend not to hear the noises coming from your room if you pretend not to hear the ones coming from mine.”

  That drew the richest laughter of the afternoon. “Deal. You talk to Rafa and I’ll talk to Paul. And if Rafa gives you any argument, you let
me know and I’ll take care of it.”

  “I don’t think he will. I mean, the worst case is that we get a nice weekend together before he leaves, right?”

  “Cheer up, Miss Pessimist. You’re beautiful and smart and funny. Any guy that would willingly leave you isn’t worth your trouble.”

  It was sweet of her to say it, but Emily knew the truth. Still, she wasn’t going to turn down her friend’s generosity. And if she was going to lose Rafa, she was going to thoroughly enjoy her last weekend with him.

  Chapter 11

  RAFA strode across his apartment again, marveling at how his leg felt. Two days spent at the VA and the University of Colorado Medical School had resulted in a new sleeve for his prosthesis, as well as a jogging blade like the Olympic runners had. It had also resulted in a course of antibiotics to treat the infection he’d managed to pick up.

  He checked his watch as he paced. It was still ten minutes before Emily was supposed to arrive. He felt more nervous than he had since that first time she’d taken him back to her apartment. Being with her was a rollercoaster of self-loathing and sheer wonder. He still wasn’t sure what to do when his discharge papers came through, but he hoped that talking to her about it might clear his mind.

  His phone buzzed. Emily was downstairs a few minutes early. He sprang for the door, reveling in his newfound ease of motion.

  She stood in the lobby wearing a pair of black tights and a lavender sweater. On anyone else it would have looked frumpy, but she had the curves to fill it and make it smoking hot. She smiled when she saw him, then did a double-take.

  “You got a new leg!”

  Rafa’s ebullience turned back to doubt. “I did.”

  “Oh, I’m so happy for you.” She came at him fast, and for a moment he worried that she’d knock him over, but she slowed and caught him in a hug.

  Her blonde hair pressed against his face, soft and curly. She smelled faintly of perfume. Pure woman. Pure sex. It made his loins stir in a way that was becoming wonderfully familiar.

  “It’s just temporary,” he said. “The doctors are getting me a more formal attachment so I can switch them out, but they let me take this one so I can keep exercising.”

  Emily kissed him full on the lips, holding it until he thought he’d have to take her upstairs and ravish her immediately. “Good.” She stepped back, appraising him. “How do you feel about skiing?”

  “Skiing?” He looked down at his leg. “I don’t know...”

  “Well, if you don’t have plans this weekend, Christa and Paul offered to let us use her parents’ cabin. I thought it might be nice to spend some time together. And there are the most amazing slopes.”

  Rafa scrubbed his hands on his pants. He was excited to be able to walk without pain, and she wanted to go skiing? Carajo, but this woman wasn’t the sort to stop for a breath. “I don’t know how. And I don’t have any skis.”

  Her smile paled for a few seconds, then returned as strong as ever. “I can teach you and we can rent equipment. If you want to go.”

  “Can we talk about it?”

  “Of course.” She held out her right hand, letting him catch it with his left, then they headed toward her car together.

  Rafa smiled back, easing the worry that ached within her. She so desperately hoped they could find a way to make it all work.

  #

  She stopped at a sporting goods store that had a parking lot full of trucks and SUVs with ski racks on the roof.

  “Are you sure?” she asked again.

  He wasn’t sure, not really, but he’d long since learned that the best way to handle fear was to face it head on. “I’m sure. If I fall down the mountainside I don’t have to worry about breaking both my legs. I can just replace the right one.”

  Emily’s eyes went wide, as if she wasn’t sure whether she should laugh or not.

  “It’s a joke,” he said.

  She shook her head. “You’re a weird duck sometimes.”

  “It’s the PTSD.”

  “That you don’t have.”

  “Right. But don’t tell the clerk. I bet we get an even better discount if they think I’m crazy in addition to being a wounded veteran.”

  They trooped into the store, catching a few looks of surprise when the other shoppers saw his foot. Let them be surprised. He was just happy to be walking without pain.

  “Back this way,” Emily said, angling for the back corner of the store. Skis hung from the rafters. Ropes and carabineers hung in a display with goggles and crash helmets.

  “We used to use helmets like that.” He pointed to a black helmet. It had the same general shape as the tactical gear he’d used for house to house missions.

  “In Afghanistan?”

  “In Iraq.” He picked it up, inspected the interior. It had a foam core, and it felt lighter than what he was used to. “It’s not quite the same, though. Ours had Kevlar.” He set it back on the rack.

  “I didn’t realize you were in Iraq, too.”

  “I was for a while. I can’t talk about most of it, though.”

  “Too painful?”

  “Too classified.”

  That made her laugh. “Well, I won’t ask then. I’d hate if you had to kill me.”

  Rafa leaned over, winked and gave her a peck on the lips.

  A salesman wandered toward them. He had the easy lope of an athlete and the bored expression of a college student. No situational awareness, though, so certainly not a threat. The way he looked at Emily stirred Rafa to jealousy far more intense than Paul’s comment earlier in the week.

  He mentally stepped back, surveying the situation and his own emotions. It was a skill he’d learned through hard years of training, and he liked what he saw. For most people jealousy could be a terrible thing, but for Rafa, it just told him that he cared.

  “Hey, I’m Pete. Can I help you guys find anything?” He hardly even looked Rafa’s direction.

  “We’re looking for a set of rental skis,” Emily said, “but we need something that can support his foot.”

  The salesman turned to Rafa, his fake smile turning to a real scowl as he looked at the blade where Rafa’s right foot should have been. “Car wreck?”

  “Taliban,” Rafa replied.

  The guy’s scowl only deepened. “Well, I don’t know if we have anything that would work for you. Sorry.”

  Rafa watched him, impassive on the outside, but seething on the inside. He’d seen kids like him in the Army. The ones that knew everything already. Hotshots. Best case scenario was they finished the tour and didn’t get anyone else killed. Usually they ended up dead and so did other people.

  Emily must have sensed something. She slid between them. “We’ll just look on our own, okay?”

  “Sure.” The guy gave Rafa one last look, then went back to whatever hole he’d come from.

  “What just happened?” Emily asked. “I’ve never seen that look.”

  “Nothing.”

  “You just turned into a stone or something. It was a little scary.”

  “I’m surprised you noticed anything. Call it a professional instinct. Kids like him, they get people like me killed. On accident.”

  “Ah. Well, how about we just focus on getting some skis?” She guided him toward a rack.

  It took the better part of an hour to try different skis and different bindings, but they ended up with a combination that Emily pronounced decent.

  “I thought we were renting these,” Rafa said as they carted them to the front of the store.

  “We were. Now we’re not. Tell you what, consider them my treat.” She lowered her voice. “And if you hate them, we’ll return them Sunday.”

  “I’ll pay.” His mother had taught him better than that. Emily was a lovely woman, but he had more honor than to let her buy him gifts while he was actually there.

  “Nonsense. It was my idea. I’ll take care of it.” She tried to pull the skis away from him.

  He tightened his grip. “They are for me.
I cannot let you purchase them.”

  Emily pouted, but let go of the skis. “If you don’t like them, really, we can bring them back. As long they don’t get scratched up or anything.”

  He slid the cashier his card, then caught Emily with another kiss, stopping any further protest in the best way possible.

  The cashier gave him a receipt, but Emily frowned. “We didn’t get a helmet.”

  They had to go back for it, and he let Emily pay, though it pained him. She seemed terribly pleased with herself, though, so he did his best to let it go. The kiss she gave him in front of the building helped soothe his pride.

  As they walked up to her car, Emily said, “Oh, crap.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t have a ski rack.”

  Rafa looked at the little Lexus, then at the skis. “I can hold them if you don’t mind leaving the window down.” It was going to be cold, but nothing his coat and glove couldn’t handle.

  Emily popped the trunk. It wasn’t much larger than his duffel bag.

  “I don’t think they’ll fit,” Rafa said.

  “Watch.” She leaned in, giving him a wonderful view of her backside.

  A shiver went through him. She looked so good. Like a woman should. A rump a man could wrap his hands around and really enjoy. All those kisses were getting his motor running, and the sight of her was making him painfully hard.

  Emily folded down the back seat. “Slide the skis in here.”

  He stepped up beside her, so close he could feel the heat radiating from her tight yoga pants. The skis slid through the opening and over the backseat, the tips poking between the two front seats. Even so, they still poked three feet out the back of the trunk.

  “They’re going to slide around,” he said. “And the trunk won’t stay closed.

  “I know. Let’s go back in and get some rope.”

  “And just leave them here?”

  She chewed her lip. “Okay, stay here and keep an eye on them.”

  “You stay. I suspect I know a thing or two more about rope.”

  She looked like she wanted to argue, but he was already moving, not giving her a chance. He wasn’t sure how many mountains she’d scaled or how many helicopters she’d rappelled, but he had a feeling he’d win if they compared numbers.