He inserted the disk, and the soft strains of Carole King filled the air. Patsy hummed along as she listened. The selection surprised her, but then she thought, it shouldn’t have. Every time she’d come to a conclusion about Ray Darling, he’d countered it with something new. And she rather liked the surprises.
As they waited to turn onto Highway 98, the next song came on. Definitely not Carole King. Then she recognized it: Garth Brooks’s alter ego, Chris Gaines. She liked that song, too.
“I mix and burn my own CDs,” Ray explained as he accelerated along the dark highway.
“So, I guess that means you’re pretty good with computers, then.”
Ray grinned. “Love ’em. I’m the squadron expert, even if we actually do have techies on staff.” He chuckled. “That’s part of the reason they call me Radar.”
“Oh, then it’s not for Ray Darling?”
“No,” Ray said emphatically. “When I first got assigned to the squadron, I got a lot of ribbing because of my name. You don’t know how many times I got called just plain Darling.”
There was not one thing plain about him, Patsy thought. Not even when he wore glasses.
She smiled. “Oh, I can hear it now. I need to speak to you, dar-ling,” she said in a saccharine sweet tone. “Hand me that wrench, dar-ling.”
“Exactly. I had to come up with something that would distract the guys from my name. So I dazzled them with my computer skills.”
“I’m impressed,” Patsy said. “I can use the programs we have at the clinic, and I can word process and do e-mail, but that’s the extent of my computer literacy.”
“Well, some of those old guys, the ones close to retiring were really resistant when I first came in. You know, they were used to doing it one way, and they didn’t want to try anything new.” He chuckled. “I talked ’em into it real quick. Chief Mullins was the one who started calling me Radar. I think radar was one of the few technical things he was familiar with. It saved my butt. I was tired of getting into fights about being called darling.”
“I’m sure you could have handled them,” Patsy said. “You don’t look like you’d lose many fights.”
Ray smiled wryly in acknowledgment. “Unfortunately, my technical expertise didn’t do much for my airman proficiency ratings when they were countered by reports of those fights,” Ray said, frowning. “I think it kept me as a staff sergeant for an extra cycle, in spite of my test scores.”
Patsy had wondered why he hadn’t made technical sergeant yet. He certainly seemed worthy of the promotion.
“But I made it this round,” Ray continued. “I’m waiting to see when my number comes up. Don’t know whether I’ll make tech first or get selected for Officer Training School.”
Patsy arched an eyebrow, surprised to realize that somehow he’d managed to snag a college degree, a requirement for all OTS candidates. “You graduated from college? Was it the adult education college on the base?”
“No,” Radar answered sharply. “The University of Washington,” he clarified. Then he seemed to set his jaw as if he wanted no further conversation.
Okay, Patsy thought. If that was it, that was it. She settled back against the seat and listened to the music. Something from James Taylor this time.
RAY HADN’T HEARD anything from Patsy’s side of the car for a while, not that he could blame her for being quiet. He had been damned short with her. And for no good reason. At least, not one that she’d readily understand. How do you explain that you graduated from college at seventeen and then joined the air force to find out what it was like to be a real guy?
Hell, she might turn on him for wasting his education just as his parents had.
Why couldn’t anybody understand that the air force had been an education, too? And that he still had plenty of time to go on to graduate school. And when he did go, he’d be a lot better prepared for it than when he was a kid.
He glanced in Patsy’s direction. No wonder she’d been so quiet. She seemed to be sleeping.
Though he needed to keep his eyes on the road, he kept glancing Patsy’s way. She looked almost like a child with her arm resting against the passenger-side armrest and the hard glass window pillowing her head. So serene, so relaxed. So very kissable. Radar chuckled quietly to himself. He wondered if he’d ever get the chance.
No, not if. When.
Ray smiled to himself. Prickly Pritchard was sleeping with him. Okay, maybe not in the biblical sense, but it still struck him as funny. Every single guy at Hurlburt Field had been speculating about who would be the lucky guy to get through Prickly Patsy’s reserve, and he had. Too bad he couldn’t tell anybody.
Of course, he’d never kiss and tell. Not that they’d kissed yet, nor was there a guarantee that they ever would. And if he did, he doubted anybody would even believe him. Not Radar Darling, the sergeant most likely to…break his glasses.
He hummed along with the music and steered the car through the strip of tourist motels and across the Okaloosa Bridge, which took them into downtown Fort Walton Beach. He supposed he’d have to wake Patsy up now. Otherwise, he wouldn’t know where to take her.
He stopped at a red light, and nudged Patsy’s shoulder. He’d like to kiss her awake, but that wouldn’t work in the confines of the car. And it was presuming a lot more than he dared at this point in their relationship. Assuming it wasn’t an end.
Patsy jerked awake, obviously startled.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Ray said. “We’re back in town. I need to know where to take you.”
Patsy blinked, vaguely trying to register where she was and what she was doing in this car with Radar Darling. The red light blinked to green, and the car surged forward while Patsy struggled to clear her muddy thoughts.
“Make a right on Beal,” she said groggily, then stifled a yawn. “Then a left on Hollywood.”
“Roger that,” Radar said, executing the first turn.
“I apologize for nodding off on you,” Patsy said, stifling a yawn. “I was up late last night.”
“Did you work an extra shift at the hospital or something?”
Patsy had to laugh. “No, the job at the clinic is enough work. I just stayed up too late watching an old movie on television. I’m afraid it’s one of my worst weaknesses. Then I got up early to take Tripod to the vet.”
“Tripod?”
“My dog.”
Ray nodded. He’d always wanted a dog. His parents had said it would be a distraction from his studies.
“Is he sick?”
“She. No, she was just getting a rabies booster.”
“Tripod is not exactly the kind of name I’d associate with a female dog,” Ray said, turning onto Hollywood Boulevard.
“You’d have to meet her. Then you’d understand.” Patsy looked up. “Oh, sorry, I wasn’t paying attention and let you drive past the turn. Turn around and then take the next right. I live in the third duplex on the right.”
Ray made the turn a little sharper than he would have preferred, but then the inertia caused Patsy to lean against him as he made the turn. He smiled as he turned onto her street, then counted the houses, small cinder block bungalows with carports on either end. “Which side?”
“I’ve got the one on the left,” Patsy said. “You can pull up behind my car in the carport.”
Ray did so, then halted the car and turned off the engine. He wondered if he should try for a kiss now, or wait until they got to the door, but Patsy took the decision out of his hands. She pushed open the passenger door and scampered out.
Ray had to scramble to catch up with her. “Where I come from, we walk our ladies to their doors.”
“Thank you,” Patsy said primly, “But this is a perfectly safe neighborhood. I’m not in danger of being mugged. And I’m not your lady.”
“Touché.” Ray grabbed at his chest as though she’d been a fencer and had nicked him with her epee. That was the Prickly Pritchard he’d come to know and love, Ray thought, relishing the id
ea of trying to get through to her again.
Patsy slowed and let him catch up with her as she walked to the door to the house. At the sound of her footsteps, a dog inside the house began barking excitedly. At least the barking sounded fairly friendly, Ray thought.
“What are my chances of getting to meet your roommate?” he asked. “I won’t sleep until I know why you call her Tripod.”
Patsy laughed, and the icy pall lifted. “I would hate to be responsible for keeping you up all night,” she said as she fished in her bag for keys. Ray hoped that meant that he’d be invited in. “Tripod was close to dead when I found her,” Patsy explained.
“So you rescued her and nursed her back to health,” Ray concluded.
“Not quite. I took her to the vet, thinking he’d put her to sleep, but he said that he could save her. Most of her, anyway.”
“Most of her?”
“He couldn’t save her left foreleg, so she limps,” Patsy said, smiling fondly as she leaned against the doorjamb.
Ray grinned. “Got it. Three feet—Tripod.” He had to admire the woman. Not everyone would take in a three-legged dog. “I like that,” he said.
Patsy looked up at him, real confusion on her face, and Ray wanted so much to kiss her. He reached toward her, but she ducked away. “You like what?” she asked.
“That you took pity on a poor, injured dog.”
“Oh,” she said. “I guess I’ll go in now.” She offered her hand. “Thank you for driving me home,” she said as though she were reciting something she’d learned in etiquette class.
“You’re welcome,” Ray said, accepting her hand and feeling the warmth and silky texture of her skin against his. He rubbed his thumb over the smooth skin on her palm. “I was kinda wondering what my chances were of getting invited in to watch the Ed Wood Film Festival.”
“Not tonight,” Patsy said, sounding nervous.
Ray grinned. “That wasn’t exactly the answer I was looking for, but it does give me hope.”
Patsy looked surprised. “It does?”
“Sure. Not tonight implies that another night might be in our future.” He smiled down at her, hoping she’d pick up on the hint.
“We have no future,” Patsy snapped.
“We all have a future, Patsy,” Ray said gently.
Instead of arguing with him as he’d expected, Patsy’s eyes clouded up, and before he knew it, she had jerked open the door, darted inside and slammed the door behind her, leaving Ray standing there with the finality of that last gesture echoing louder than the sound of the door. “Just what the hell was that all about?” he muttered to himself.
Then he heard the bolt turning in the lock.
PATSY STOOD INSIDE the house, her back pressed firmly against the door, Tripod jumping up against her in greeting, her tail wagging wildly. Normally, she loved the way her dog said hello, but tonight she was not in the mood. She reached down to pet the dog, but her heart wasn’t really in it.
Why had Ray gone and spoiled it all?
For the first time in years, she’d gone out with a man and had actually begun to enjoy herself, and he’d ruined it for her. She’d even thought she might be ready for a good-night kiss, but Ray had gone and reminded her of everything she hadn’t been able to forget with that remark about the future. Of course, she had a future, and Radar had a future, but there had been no future for Ace and her children, and that was her fault.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she tried to blink them back. Loving and caring for people was wonderful, but losing them was almost like dying herself.
It seemed as though everyone she’d ever cared about had died. Now, rather than running the risk of being hurt again, she found it easier to just not care.
That was why she didn’t date. That was why she could never see Ray Darling again. She might come to care for him. Losing anyone else would just hurt too much.
Tears spilled from her eyes and ran down her cheeks, scalding her skin, and rubbing salt into old wounds that never quite seemed to heal.
RAY STOOD IN THE DIM LIGHT of Patsy’s carport and tried to figure out what had just happened. He’d thought that everything was going pretty well. Prickly Pritchard might not have completely melted in his arms, but he had thought he’d detected a definite thawing.
He drew in a deep breath, shrugged and turned toward his car. She might not have allowed him a good-night kiss, but there was still that Ed Wood Film Festival to look forward to. She would agree to the evening.
It just wouldn’t be tomorrow.
Or next week, but soon.
He’d bide his time, and when the time was right, they’d watch those movies together. And next time it wouldn’t be because an old lady with good intentions had paid for them to be together.
Next time, it would be because they both wanted to be together.
Chapter Four
Patsy tried to forget the date with Sergeant Darling, but thoughts of Ray would not leave her alone. For weeks.
The memory of that evening, and the kiss that should have happened, just would not let her be. She found herself in those half-awake moments just before she fell asleep imagining that kiss. And then, she’d dream.
In the light of day, she tried to convince herself that she was being silly. After all, she was twenty-seven years old, widowed and had lost two children. She wasn’t exactly a giddy teenager with dreams of a happily ever after.
Still, she found herself hoping that Ray Darling would come into the clinic. She watched for him at the base snack bar at lunch and looked for his face atop every uniform she saw outside. She was never rewarded by as much as a glimpse of him.
Ray Darling seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth or, at least, from Hurlburt Field. And for all practical purposes, her life.
Then on one particularly hectic April afternoon when she had more things to do than she had time or hands for, one of the doctors directed her to splint and bandage a badly sprained ankle he’d already examined.
Patsy bustled into the examination room with the materials she needed and nearly stopped in her tracks. There on the table, wearing gray coaches’ shorts and a T-shirt, was the object of her daydreams. The sprained ankle she was there to attend to belonged to none other than Sergeant Ray Darling. Funny, with all her watching, she hadn’t even seen him come in.
For some reason, she didn’t know what to say. She just looked at him as if she wasn’t sure she was really seeing him.
“A hello would be nice,” Ray said, easing back on his elbows against the exam table and gazing lazily up at her. In spite of the discomfort he was obviously in, he flashed her a grin, and that made Patsy suddenly feel all hot and bothered.
“Hi,” she said, the pitch of her voice a little too high to sound casual. “When Doctor Brantley said there was a sprained ankle in this room, I didn’t know it was yours.” She knew it sounded pretty stupid, but it was the truth.
“Well, right now I’d give this ankle to anybody who wants it,” Ray said, grimacing as he shifted. “Free!”
Ray’s apparent discomfort and his admission finally caused Patsy’s nurse training to click back in. “I’m sorry,” she said. “The sooner I get it immobilized, the sooner it will begin to heal.” She forced herself to stop looking at Ray’s face and to concentrate on the red and swollen joint. “You’re going to have to stay off it for a while, you know,” she said as she began to quickly and efficiently wrap his ankle.
“Won’t break my heart, considering how it feels at this moment. I sure hate to let the team down, though,” Ray said, punctuating his statement with a sharp intake of breath when Patsy jostled him as she made the final turn with the elastic bandage. “Hey, that’s a real leg in there!”
Patsy pressed the binding hooks into place and smiled. “Sorry. I thought pain was nothing to you combat-control types.” She handed him a pair of crutches. “Do you know how to use these?”
“I think I can figure it out,” Ray said wryly, positioning them
beneath his arms. “For the record, we don’t usually admit we’re in pain, but we damn sure feel it.”
“Oh, just wanted a little sympathy, then?” Patsy said, sitting down at the computer in the corner of the office and making some notes in his medical records. “You’re on light duty for at least a week,” she said. “It’s official. I don’t want to hear about any twenty-mile hikes in full gear.” She turned to Ray. “How did you do this, anyway?”
Ray managed a sheepish grin. “I was demonstrating the proper way to slide into base,” he said, indicating a streak of dried dirt on the left side of his shorts and some red scrapes on his thigh. “I caught my foot on the d—Excuse me. The stupid base and this was the result,” he said indicating the injured ankle. “Graceful, huh?”
“Well, your team will have to do without you for a couple of weeks. Keep the foot elevated for a day or two, and stay off it!” She turned and consulted the computer. “The doctor put in a scrip for a painkiller. I suggest you use it.”
“I don’t need no stinkin’ painkiller,” Ray growled, affecting a tough-guy tone. “Just give me a bullet to bite.”
Patsy rolled her ryes. “Take it home with you, at least. You know, if the bullet doesn’t work, the pills will be there. They will ease the inflammation and will actually help your ankle heal faster.”
“All right,” Ray said. “Under one condition.”
“I hardly think you’re in a position to bargain with me right now, Sergeant,” Patsy said, her hands on her hips in a parody of the intractable nurse character the men saw her as. “I can tell the doctor you’re being uncooperative, and he can confine you to quarters.”
“I surrender!” Ray said, propping himself on the crutches and raising his hands in a white-flag gesture. “I was just going to invite you to watch the team play some afternoon if you have time.”
“I don’t know,” Patsy said. “I stay pretty busy here until after six.”
“Not on Saturdays,” Ray pointed out.
Sergeant Darling Page 4
