Colonel Clark was an experienced service-woman, sturdy and no-nonsense, but with the warm eyes of one who truly cared about her patients. Patsy hoped that meant she would bend a regulation or two to give her the information she needed. “Can you tell me the names of the men who were killed in the Taloom Kapoor incident?” she asked, laying her question right out on the table.
“You know I can’t tell you that,” the colonel said. “But, maybe if you rephrase your question, I might be able to tell you something.”
With that suggestion, Patsy’s hopes were raised. She thought about it. “Well, if I give you a name could you tell me if he has been a patient here in any capacity? If you’ve seen or heard of him?”
“Maybe. I can’t remember every name attached to every splinter or stomachache that walked in here, but I remember the special ones.”
The seriously injured and the ones you couldn’t help, Patsy thought but didn’t say.
Patsy swallowed. It was now or never. “All right,” she said, then drew a deep breath and moistened her lips, stalling lest the answer be one she didn’t want. “Do you remember Sergeant Ray Darling?” She hardly dared to breathe as she waited for the colonel’s answer.
The no-nonsense look left the woman’s face, and she broke into a smile that feathered lines around her eyes. They sparkled and gave her a beauty Patsy hadn’t recognized a moment before. “No, Patsy. I can honestly say that I haven’t seen your Sergeant Darling in any capacity here,” she said. “I’d certainly remember a name like that.”
Patsy could have whooped for joy. Instead, she impulsively hugged the older nurse and was rewarded with a warm hug in return. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice husky with emotion. “Thank you.”
The colonel, still smiling, shrugged. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Yes, you did,” Patsy insisted. “You relieved a very worried mind.”
RAY CLIMBED BACK onto the helicopter after another successful mission. Though he’d kept his attention focused on the job at hand, he hadn’t been able to get the image of the blond woman in the battle dress uniform out of his mind. He knew it could not have been Patsy, but it had seemed so real, he couldn’t dismiss it.
Could Patsy be in Taloom Kapoor?
And if she was there, why was she there?
Could it be that she had come all the way out here looking for him?
He had to get back to base. He had to find her. Talk to her, kiss her, hold her in his arms.
No, he told himself. It was too much to dream that Patsy had come all the way here for him, yet he couldn’t help feeling that she was near.
On the other hand, he had yet to receive a response from her after he’d poured his heart out to her on paper. He’d hoped for a letter in return. His parents had already responded to their letter, and he was looking forward to a reunion with them when this deployment was over.
Nothing, however, had come from Patsy: not a letter, not a postcard, not a word. He was quite certain now that he hadn’t really seen her watching in the shadows of Base Ops when they’d taken off. And if the woman he’d thought was Patsy had really been someone else, then…
The reason Patsy had not told him she loved him was because she didn’t.
Patsy didn’t care.
And that certainly hadn’t been Patsy he’d thought he’d seen getting on that ATV back at camp.
THE TRANSPORT TAKING the injured stateside had been scheduled to leave far too early for Patsy’s taste, especially since the shock of traveling halfway across the world had yet to wear off. Even with the mandatory crew rest period, she had barely had time to adjust to the time difference, and now they were about to head back to Hurlburt Field.
It amazed and awed her how cold and dark it was at night in the desert when it had been so unbearably hot the day before, and she stared up at a sky dusted with more stars than she’d ever seen before. Patsy recognized some of the familiar constellations, yet there were other stars in the desert sky, stars that shone too dimly to be seen through the milky, humid, night air on the Gulf Coast of Florida.
Still, she wasn’t particularly interested in star-gazing. Patsy still hoped she might happen to see Ray. The chances of her finding him were next to none now, but she had clung so fiercely to the hope that their paths might intersect that she was unwilling to give up looking until she was actually secured into the C-130 and airborne.
And she had seen that man who looked remarkably like Ray going by in that Humvee when she’d first arrived, she reminded herself almost hourly. Patsy wasn’t convinced that the man was Ray, but neither had she been shown that he wasn’t. She’d been bundled off to the hospital before she’d gotten a good look.
Whoever the man was, he had to be away on a mission because he had climbed into a helicopter waiting on the pad. There was still a slight chance that the helicopter and its crew would return before she left….
No sooner had she thought it then the quiet solitude of midnight was shattered by the roar of a big helicopter’s powerful engine. The chilly air which had been still and calm, suddenly whipped about as if it were trying to emulate a hurricane, or maybe a tornado. Dust swirled around her, and she closed her eyes to protect them from the grit and sand.
The rumble of the engine wound down, and the force of the wind decreased as the huge rotors slowed. Patsy opened her eyes as a squad of men, so heavily laden with gear that it was impossible to recognize anyone, climbed off the helicopter.
Something in her told her that one of those men was Ray. She could feel his presence. She knew he was there, felt it in her heart, but it would be so much better to see him, to touch him, to hold him in her arms, if only for a moment. To know for sure. Her heart raced and her breath caught in her throat in anticipation of seeing his darling face.
One man paused and, for just a moment, looked across the ramp toward the hulking transport plane Patsy was about to board. For a moment, he seemed to focus on her. Patsy started to wave, and actually lifted her hand to do so, but someone called to her. Reluctantly, she turned away to see what the intruder wanted.
“We need to be wheels up before the sun,” a crew chief called to her. “Waiting on you.”
“Okay, sure,” Patsy said, reluctantly following the man to the ladderlike steps. She managed one last glance over her shoulder, but the man—no, Ray, it had to be!—was now lost in the crowd of similarly dressed servicemen boarding another Humvee. Still, she waved. She had to take the chance that he’d see her.
Ray might not see her. He might not even be there, but Patsy’s heart had sensed that he was.
She stepped inside and the loadmaster closed and secured the door.
“GET THE LEAD OUT, Radar!” Sergeant Scanlon shouted as they hustled to offload their equipment so they could head back out to their quarters and get some sleep. But Ray had fixed his vision on the slight form standing near the C-130 across the ramp. The ground crew was busy readying the transport for departure, but this solitary figure stood idle.
He stared at her as hard as he could, and she seemed to respond to his mental message and turned toward him. Even this far away, Ray felt as though they were connected. As if their souls had touched.
It had to be Patsy. He could feel it in his heart. His loins tightened in recognition, but what could Patsy be doing over here? And why hadn’t she tried to see him?
Instead of waving, or in some way acknowledging that she’d seen him, the woman looked away.
What did that mean? Did she not recognize him? Did she not know him at all? Or, worse, had she telegraphed her true feelings to him by turning her back to him when he was at his most vulnerable? Damn, he wished he could speak to her.
“Darling!” the Sergeant yelled again, and Ray knew better than to take exception this time. He had a job to do, even if the immediate mission was over. He was holding everybody else up. He had no business mooning over some strange woman, even if she looked a little like Patsy Pritchard.
No, not a little. A lot.
He returned to stowing his equipment on the Humvee and grabbed a handhold with which to swing himself up and into the vehicle. The engines on the C-130 hadn’t started up yet, so the woman might still be there watching. Ray strained for one last look, but the Humvee jerked into motion. Then he was too busy hanging on to look any more.
She could just as easily have been a perfect stranger, he tried to tell himself. She was not necessarily the woman he loved showing him in no uncertain terms that she didn’t share his feelings….
Chapter Thirteen
Buoyed by the knowledge that Ray had been unharmed by the ambush at Taloom Kapoor, Patsy threw herself cheerfully into her work once she returned. She gave herself daily—no, hourly—pep talks with reasons why Ray had not responded to her heartfelt letter. He was stationed at a temporary post in a faraway country, for example, and mail delivery was probably sporadic, at best.
After six weeks that had seemed to Patsy more like six years, the deployment of the special operations team from Hurlburt came to an end. She saw men wearing the familiar scarlet berets everywhere around the base, and several of the men she had escorted back to Hurlburt had already returned to active duty. It would only be a matter of time before she could expect to hear from Ray. Before they’d finally be together again.
Patsy lived for that reunion, but two more, long weeks passed and still she didn’t hear from him.
She wanted to believe that nothing was wrong, but her cheerful optimism was gradually fading.
Mary Bailey noticed that her once buoyant spirits had taken a downward turn. “What’s up, Patsy?” she asked one day in a concerned tone.
It was all Patsy could do to keep from crying. “I haven’t heard one word from my boyfriend since the team got back. He’s not returning my calls to his apartment. I even called the section and they took a message for him, so I’m assuming he’s around, he’s just not interested in calling me back.”
Mary folded Patsy into a warm hug. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Patsy. He might not have gotten the message, and a lot of the single guys have taken leave to visit their families. You know, to assure their mothers and fathers that they’re all right.”
“Y-you think?” Patsy asked, her lip quivering in spite of her attempts to remain in control.
“Sure. What else could it be?” the older woman said more confidently than Patsy felt. “Think positive.”
“I’ll try,” Patsy said, then she remembered something that Mary didn’t know. Ray had been estranged from his family for years. It wasn’t likely that he’d be visiting them. They probably didn’t even know that he’d been over in the desert.
Then she went home and found the letter she’d written to Ray in her mailbox, marked “Return to Sender.” It seemed that her worst fears had been confirmed.
RAY TRIED TO ENJOY his reunion with his family, but the fact that he hadn’t heard from Patsy still worried him. He’d poured his heart out to her in that letter. Not even the coldest witch would have been able to ignore it. Yet, Patsy had.
At least his letter to his family had hit the target. He’d received several letters and cards from his parents while he was still in the desert assuring him that they loved him and wanted to see him. So when he’d been granted leave after returning to Hurlburt, he’d taken the opportunity to go home for the first time in ten years.
He sighed.
“What’s wrong, son?” Janet Darling asked. “Are you tired of us already?”
Ray forced himself to grin. “Not for a minute, Mom.” It was the truth. He was grateful that his deployment had provided the opportunity for him to mend fences with his family, but his joy at being home was tempered by Prickly Pritchard’s betrayal. Obviously, she didn’t care for him. Why else would she not have bothered to respond to his letter? “It’s been great to be back at home with you and Dad, but there’s somebody back in Florida.”
“A woman somebody?” his mother asked, her eyes lighting up with interest.
“Yeah,” Ray said, punctuating his reply with a sigh. “At least, I thought there was. Now I’m not so sure.”
PATSY HAD GIVEN UP hope of hearing from Ray. She had to face that he’d lost interest in her. Obviously, he didn’t know that she’d written back to him. No wonder he hadn’t tried to get in touch with her.
She tried to convince herself that knowing Ray had been a good thing. He had finally helped her get over the hurdle of dating again. She could always go out with one of those men Aunt Myrtle was always trying to fix her up with. Patsy thought about that and grimaced.
“What’s the funny face for?” Nancy Oakley, back from maternity leave, asked.
Patsy chuckled. “I was thinking about the type of guy my aunt was likely to set me up with.”
Nancy laughed. “Oh yeah, I can see him now, Pat. Some smart accountant type with lots of brains and thick, black-rimmed glasses,” Nancy said.
Patsy didn’t laugh. Nancy didn’t know how close her description had been to the last man that Aunt Myrtle had fixed her up with. He wasn’t an accountant, but the brains and the glasses were right on.
HE’D BEEN ACCEPTED for Officer Training School!
Ray felt like cheering most of the time. Except when he thought about Patsy Pritchard.
When he received the notice that he’d been accepted to OTS, he had whooped for joy. The rest of the guys in the squadron had hoo-ahed right along with him. Being accepted to OTS was the only thing that had kept him sane after being dumped. Sure, he was still disappointed in Patsy, but he’d get over it.
He hoped.
OTS would keep him busy and definitely keep his mind off her. And it would take him away from the possibility of running into her every day on the base. Now, he could understand why Danny had been in such a foul mood since his auction date, and he’d only been out with the woman once.
He just had to get through the physical exam before reporting to Maxwell Air Force Base in Alabama for the training. He waited, impatiently drumming his fingers against the plastic waiting room chair next to him, in the Flight Surgeon’s Office. He wasn’t worried about the physical. He and the rest of the guys in the squadron were in tip-top shape.
He was worried that he would run into Patsy Pritchard. But so far, he hadn’t seen her. Ray checked his watch. Dr. Brantley must be running behind. Ray sure hoped he’d call him soon. The longer he lingered in this waiting room, the more likely he was to encounter Patsy.
And he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he did.
PATSY PLUCKED the thick medical file off the pile on the counter behind the reception desk and glanced at the name. Then she did a double take. She blinked, shook her head, and looked at it again. No, it couldn’t be.
It had to be an hallucination. There was no way she could really be looking at the medical records for Staff Sergeant Ray Darling. Fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to taunt her like that….
Apparently, it was that cruel, and this was real. She actually had to take the man’s vitals and record them in his file.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the waiting room doorway and started to call Ray’s name. But she found she couldn’t speak. She swallowed an enormous lump of emotion, cleared her throat and called him again. Her voice sound strangled and strange, even to her.
Ray started to push himself up out of the plastic waiting room chair, but upon seeing her he paused. His eyes brightened with recognition, then the happy look disappeared behind shuttered eyes, and he straightened, affecting a somber expression as he came toward her.
“Nurse Pritchard,” he said curtly.
Patsy’s heart sank. He was angry with her. “Follow me,” she managed as she tried to think what might bring him around. “I have to take your vitals, although, you look wonderful, so I don’t know why I need to.” She managed a bright smile in spite of the cloudy expression on Ray’s face. “I’m so happy you made it back all in one piece.”
“Thanks,” he muttered.
Though Patsy wanted to throw h
er arms around Ray and kiss him senseless, she forced herself to remain at a safe distance from him. She directed him to the screening nook and pulled a curtain across the opening to protect them from prying eyes.
“Is that necessary?” he asked, his voice still hard and cold.
“Ray, you have to listen to me,” Patsy pleaded. “Please.”
He started to walk out.
She grabbed his arm, and he stopped. Keeping his back to her, he looked over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised in question.
“I did answer your letter. I really did. It was returned by the post office.”
Ray rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. That’s convenient, Pritchard. Can you prove it?”
Patsy’s breath caught in her throat. Lord help her, she could. “Yes,” she said, breathless with excitement. “As a matter of fact, I can. Wait here.”
Praying silently that Ray would wait, Patsy darted out of the cubicle and hurried to her desk to get the purse she’d stashed in the bottom drawer. Why she’d kept that letter, she didn’t know. And why she had put it in her purse and actually had it with her today was even more unfathomable.
But she had it with her. Maybe she had hoped for an opportunity just like this. No matter what the reason, she had the proof she needed to show Ray that she really did care. She snatched her bag from the bottom desk drawer and, rummaging in the depths for the letter, she hurried back to Ray.
He was still there, his jaw clenched firmly, a muscle twitching ominously under one eye.
She handed him the unopened letter, marked “Return to Sender,” and waited.
He took it gingerly, holding it with two fingers, and examined the letter as though it were an ancient papyrus there to be authenticated by experts. “It’s still sealed,” he said, his tone questioning.
“I didn’t need to open it,” Patsy said simply. “I know what I wrote in it.”
Sergeant Darling Page 15
