Sergeant Darling

by Bonnie Gardner

  Patsy sniffed. “I overheard him inviting some guy in the clinic waiting room in on the pool.”

  “Are you sure they were talking about you?” It didn’t exactly help his ego that they were still taking action on the pool this very morning. Apparently, the gang had little faith in his romantic abilities….

  “Prickly Pritchard and Radar,” she said simply, linking her fingers with his. “There can’t be two other people on Hurlburt with those particular nicknames.”

  “Damn,” Ray muttered and then added an even more pungent comment.

  “Forget it, Ray. It’s over.”

  “I’m not sure I can.”

  “You have to. You have to take the high road,” Patsy insisted. “You have to show that you’re the better man than he is.”

  Patsy was right of course. He was the better man. And he wasn’t about to let Runt Hagarty make him do anything that might keep him from achieving everything that he’d worked so long and so hard for. Not when he was so close. And, he had Patsy.

  Patsy touched his face. “Are you going to let it go?”

  Ray smiled. “As long as I have you to think about, I can forget just about anything.” He bent to kiss her.

  “Thank you,” she whispered just as his lips closed over hers.

  OF COURSE, they ended up in bed. Patsy wondered why she couldn’t say no to Ray. She ought to be able to resist him. Just knowing that she’d so greatly misjudged him meant that they weren’t there yet. That they hadn’t completely given themselves to each other. Or maybe it was just her. She was the one who couldn’t truly trust him. Would she ever be able to give her heart to another man without reservation?

  She sat up and tried to make out the form of the handsome man lying beside her. The room was dark save for the illuminated dial of her bedside clock radio.

  A storm was coming and the air outside was still and thick and dense. Not even a flicker of light was visible through the blinds. As if to portend disaster, even the streetlamp was dark. Was that an ominous sign or a mere coincidence?

  Until Ray had come storming in, Patsy had almost been relieved that their affair had ended. That way she wouldn’t have to worry about him and wonder if he was safe while his unit was deployed. She wouldn’t have to care.

  “Patsy? Is something wrong?”

  “I thought you were asleep.” She drew her legs up and hugged her knees. “No, I don’t think so,” she answered vaguely. What could she tell him? That it would have been better if they had broken up? “I was just thinking.”

  “Yeah? Anything deep?” He touched her shoulder, and Patsy leaned toward him as he lightly caressed her.

  Patsy smiled, though she knew he couldn’t see it. She shook her head. “No, not so much,” she lied. No sense in ruining the moment now. There would be plenty of time for that in the morning.

  The mattress shifted and Patsy felt, more than saw, Ray push himself up on his elbows. He reached for her, and she leaned in to him again, ready for his caress. She was drawn to him as if to a magnet. As if their attraction were beyond her control.

  “What say we just hold each other close and see what happens?” he suggested.

  A shiver of delight—or was it dread?—shuddered through her. “Why not?” she said. After all, they had all night. And she wasn’t sure how many more nights they’d get.

  RAY HELD PATSY against him as the storm came closer. Lightning ripped through the sky and thunder rolled over and through them. It was as if nature were upset and angry about what was happening in the world.

  Ray felt his need for Patsy grow as the storm’s power increased. He didn’t know why he was feeling this storm so intensely. All he knew was that he wanted Patsy. Not just now, but forever.

  He pushed into her and she accepted him, opening her body to him, though still not her feelings. But Ray’s need was all-consuming. There would be time later to discuss feelings. For now, he had to satisfy his desire.

  Patsy clung to him. She arched against him, pressing her body to his almost as if she were trying to meld them together. As Ray’s need became more urgent, the pressure of Patsy’s fingers on his arms increased in kind. He felt her shudder as her muscles contracted and released around him, heard her mewling sound of satisfaction, and then he emptied himself into her, groaning with triumph of his own.

  They lay together, warm and damp and sated, and Ray listened to the soft sound of Patsy’s breathing, and their hearts beating in synchopation. He couldn’t help thinking that this was the sound, the rhythm of life, of living, of love.

  “Patsy?” If he didn’t tell her now, Ray wasn’t sure he’d ever have the nerve. “Are you awake?”

  She didn’t answer, and her breathing was even, rhythmic.

  Ray sighed, long and low. Had he lost his chance?

  A rogue flash of lightning illuminated the room and Ray caught a glimpse of her face. Her eyes were closed, and her cheeks were damp with tears.

  Why would she have been weeping before falling asleep?

  He’d read, once, that sometimes women felt the lovemaking experience so deeply, they were moved to tears. Had their lovemaking made her cry? Did the tears reflect her sexual satisfaction? Or were they tears of sadness because he was leaving soon?

  Six weeks ago, life had been so much more simple. He’d been Radar, the guy least likely to. Now, he was a man in love with this complicated woman, and he was no closer to understanding how she felt than the day he’d had dinner with her and her Aunt Myrtle.

  Six weeks ago, he’d been eager to get a chance to go on a real mission. Now he had that chance. And he did not want to go.

  No, he did want to go. But, he didn’t want to leave this beautiful, enigmatic woman, who provided him with more questions about her, the longer he knew her. Ray sighed again, linked his fingers together behind his head and stared into the dark night. Once, he thought he had all the answers. Now he wasn’t sure he knew much about anything at all. He sure wished he did. He didn’t want to think about it too much, but he knew this could be their last night together—ever.

  With that heavy thought on his mind, Ray finally drifted into deep and restless sleep.

  PATSY SQUEEZED her eyes together, holding back the scalding tears, and tried not to cry. She knew that Ray didn’t know when to say “I love you” due to his inexperience with women. She knew he was probably waiting for her to say it first, and that he was probably desperate to hear her own declaration of love for him before he left for his mission in Taloom Kapoor.

  But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bear it if another person she loved did not return. And telling Ray would make her love real.

  Patsy lay awake wondering what to do. And when the first hint of daylight finally brightened the dark of night, Ray’s cell phone rang.

  He was up in an instant, and flipped open the cover. He listened for a moment, then switched off the phone. “I gotta go,” he muttered tersely, then quickly pulled on his clothes.

  Patsy rolled over and pulled the sheets up around her, more as a protective shield than for modesty’s sake. She hugged her knees to her chest as she watched him dress.

  She wanted so much to throw herself into his arms and cling to him, to beg him to stay, to tell him she loved him more than life itself, but she couldn’t.

  If they parted like friends, maybe he wouldn’t be burdened with thoughts of the woman he’d left behind. Maybe he’d be better able to concentrate on the important task in front of him. Maybe that would keep him safe.

  Ray tied his shoes and turned to her. He reached for her, and Patsy, trembling with emotion, tears burning behind lids already red and raw, drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “Take care of yourself,” she said carefully, forcing her tone to be steady, hard.

  Ray stood there for a moment, looking as though he expected her to say something else, as if he wanted to hear something more. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity, waiting for her to say the words she wanted so much to tell him.

  When i
t became obvious that Patsy wasn’t going to say anything more, Ray turned away. He looked over his shoulder. “Goodbye, Patsy,” he said as he reached for the door handle. “It’s been…real.” Then he strode down the hall, and a moment later, Patsy heard the slamming of the door.

  “I love you,” she whispered, then she crumpled into a heap among the sheets and wept.

  If she’d done it to protect him, to protect herself, why then did she feel so bad?

  Chapter Eleven

  Only the urgency of his final preparations for the pending mission kept Ray from going out of his mind. How could Patsy have done that to him?

  He’d thought they had started something good. Had it just been him? Why couldn’t Patsy have left him with words he could clutch to his heart during the dark and uncertain days to come? Why couldn’t she have let him know, in no uncertain terms, that he had someone to come home to?

  There had to be a reason for what she had done. Or not done. But, what was it?

  It had to be more than the misunderstanding about the bet.

  But what?

  Ray slammed the door to his locker shut and hoisted his rucksack, laden with gear, onto his shoulder.

  “Something wrong, Darling?”

  It was Scanlon again. And this time, Ray didn’t let it pass. “It’s Sergeant Darling, even to you, Master Sergeant Scanlon,” he replied sharply.

  Fortunately, the older sergeant didn’t take exception to his tone of voice. Scanlon held his hands in front of him, palms out, in a pacifying gesture. “Got that in one,” he said. “I can see where being called that might get to you.”

  “Nice of you to figure it out,” Ray muttered. “It does.” Then he stalked out of the locker room.

  Maybe Patsy really did care about him, but she thought it would be easier for him to go away thinking he hadn’t left anything of real value behind.

  Hell, maybe she’d done him a favor.

  Ray laughed bitterly. Yeah, right.

  Considering the excruciating ache in the middle of his chest, Ray figured Patsy hadn’t done a particularly good job of it.

  THEY HADN’T EXACTLY broadcast a timetable, but it didn’t take much detective work for Patsy to figure out just exactly when the troops were going to leave. C-130 transport planes were massing on the ramps, and the atmosphere on the base was tense.

  They were leaving soon.

  Maybe it was foolish of her, but she had to see Ray one last time, even if he didn’t know she was there. So, she stood in the shadows of the Base Operations Building and watched as several groups of men assembled on the ramp.

  Of course, the only men that interested Patsy were the ones wearing the distinctive scarlet berets. It was one of those men who had stolen her heart.

  Patsy pressed her hand against her breast to still her rapidly beating heart. Would she be in trouble if she got caught lurking around in the shadows? Or would nobody care?

  She searched the forest of men for one man, and one man alone. Ray Darling. Her darling sergeant.

  Then she saw him. And she did everything she could to memorize the sight of him.

  Maybe he didn’t know that she was there. Maybe he would never know, but she would. She would know that she’d been there to telegraph her love.

  And she hoped that he’d feel it.

  Ray didn’t know why he suddenly felt the urge to look back at the Base Ops building, but something drew his eyes to the shadow on the far side of the building. Something, someone, moved there. Maybe it had just been his imagination, but he had felt her there.

  Patsy.

  Patsy had come to see him off.

  She did care.

  She had just been afraid to show it.

  He gazed into the shadows as long as he could, certain he could just see the outline of her slim figure. He couldn’t bring himself to believe that the feeling, the glimpse, had been his imagination.

  Patsy was there. Ray focused his gaze toward the figure in the shadows and concentrated on visualizing her perfect, dear face. He pictured her cool blue eyes, the soft pink lips, the wisps of flaxen hair he loved to play with when they were alone.

  He imagined that she was doing the same.

  Then he mouthed the words neither of them had said. “I love you, Patsy. I love you.” He didn’t know if she saw, but he suddenly knew it was desperately important for him to make the effort.

  “HAVE YOU HEARD from your young man?” Aunt Myrtle asked out of the clear blue sky one Saturday afternoon when she appeared on Patsy’s doorstep, doing what Patsy referred to as one of her “surprise inspections.”

  Patsy was in shorts and a T-shirt, wearing no makeup and her hair was pulled back in a careless ponytail. Aunt Myrtle was dressed to the nines like a large bird of paradise. Patsy was certain that Aunt Myrtle would give her demerit points for her lack of effort, but she didn’t really care. Myrtle’s demerits meant nothing to her.

  Ray did.

  Myrtle shook her head and tut-tutted as she stepped inside.

  Patsy averted her eyes and looked down at her bare feet, another no-no in Aunt Myrtle’s etiquette book, and tried to prevent her feelings from showing on her face. “No. Why should I?”

  “Why, indeed?” Myrtle answered, making Patsy feel worse than she already did. “I thought he was quite smitten with you and you with him. Was I mistaken?” Patsy followed as her aunt bustled into the living room, her suitcase-sized pocket book tucked under her arm. “You were so reticent about talking about your date, that I concluded that it went just fine. After all, you have always been quite vocal about how unpleasant the dates I’ve arranged for you have been.” She tut-tutted as she looked around the room, cluttered with newspapers and Tripod’s toys.

  At least, the dog was outside at the moment, Patsy thought irrelevantly as Myrtle gingerly lifted up a pile of newspapers and settled down carefully on the couch, frowning at the television blaring war coverage from the all-news channel.

  Patsy hadn’t felt like doing much of anything since Ray had left for Taloom Kapoor except dress and go to work. To tell the truth, she hadn’t really felt like doing that, but people were counting on her there.

  When she was at home, she immersed herself in any and all news she could get from the front, whether via print or film. She pored over every single news report, hoping to glean some information about what Ray’s team might be doing, or where he might be.

  If only she’d said something to him indicating that she wanted to hear from him. If only she had told him that she cared about what happened to him, he would have written or gotten in touch with her by now.

  Ray had been counting on her. And she had let him down.

  Suddenly Patsy felt her eyes fill with tears, and she was helpless to stop them. She turned away, hoping that Aunt Myrtle wouldn’t notice.

  But, of course, she did.

  “Come now, Patsy dear. It can’t be that bad,” Myrtle said, her tone gentle, caring.

  “Yes, it can.” Patsy sniffed. She wiped her streaming eyes and scrubbed at her face with her hands, but all that did was make her feel worse. “Oh, Aunt Myrt, I’ve messed up. I’ve—I’ve screwed up so b-badly,” she sobbed.

  “Now, now, dear. Come to Aunt Myrtle and tell me all about it.” She held open her arms and Patsy found herself being enveloped in a warm, comforting embrace. There was something so comforting about a warm hug from someone who cared, even if that someone wasn’t Ray Darling.

  RAY SAT LEANING AGAINST the hard bulkhead of the helicopter ferrying him to his destination and tried to catch some Zs. Some of the other guys were doing that, too, but so far, Ray hadn’t been able to rest. Hell, he’d hardly slept since the last time he’d slept in Patsy’s bed. Back when he’d believed nothing could tear them apart.

  Since then, he’d lain awake at night battling with his ambivalent feelings about her. Should he be relieved that she didn’t seem to care, or mad as hell? That couldn’t have been Patsy at Base Ops. Surely he’d just been hallucinating. He leaned
back again, feeling the vibrations of the powerful engines against his back, and tried to think above the drone of rotors.

  He looked around and watched as one of the other guys scribbled a letter on a scrap of paper he’d taken from a pocket of his battle dress uniform. The airman had gotten a letter from his wife every time they’d had mail call. So far, Ray had received nothing. He’d even donated the one phone card he’d gotten in a USO packet to one of the guys who needed it more than he did.

  Now, Ray wished he had it. He wanted to hear the sound of a familiar voice. More specifically, he wanted to hear Patsy’s voice. If he couldn’t touch her or hold her, he wanted at least to hear that she was okay. He wanted to talk to someone he loved.

  But, no one who mattered knew where he was, much less, how to reach him.

  Maybe he should write some letters, anyway. Maybe now was a good time to touch base with his parents once again. He’d tried for years to close the rift, and had finally given up. Maybe this was the right time to try again.

  Hell, if he took the initiative to write a note to Patsy while he was at it, she might just take pity on him and drop him a line in return.

  Ray reached over and nudged the airman on the arm. “Hey, Smith,” he shouted to be heard through ear plugs used to cover the deafening engine noise. “Got a spare sheet of paper?”

  PATSY HAD ALMOST decided not to stop at the mailbox when she came home that afternoon. It was raining so hard, she hadn’t wanted to get any wetter than she already was from her dash from the clinic to her car. Though, deep inside, she knew she couldn’t expect to hear from Ray, she kept hoping.

  Though the rain had let up some, it hadn’t stopped, so she quickly snatched the small pile of mail from the box to keep it from getting wet, then stuck it into her purse so it would stay dry. Patsy believed that as long as she didn’t look through it right away, she could hold on to the hope that it would contain a letter. Once she looked, of course, that hope would be dashed.

  Tripod greeted her at the door, barking. “What’s the matter, doggie?” she asked as she hung her purse on the hook by the door and peeled out of her wet raincoat. “Are you hungry or just happy to see me?”