The Army Doc's Secret Wife

by Charlotte Hawkes

  If he could talk to her about Dan’s death he knew he could talk to her about all the ghosts of his past. And that meant he would no longer be emotionally closed off from her. He could be the man she needed him to be. And she could finally, truly, be his.

  Standing under the jets in the shower in his own suite, Ben tried not to think about Thea in her shower, less than fifteen metres away. Knowing he had acted out of lust, without thinking through any consequences, hadn’t stopped him wanting Thea. He could still recall her touch, her taste, her smell, and he felt an aching need for her in the pit of his stomach.

  It had taken every ounce of his determination to convince Thea to give him one more chance, to persuade her not to let his moment of uncertainty lead them to discard all the progress they had made in their relationship until that moment. It had come at a cost—he’d finally had to admit to her that there were things he hadn’t yet told her—and he’d asked for just a little more time to get his head straight.

  Choosing a ski-break—the honeymoon they’d never had—had been his way of proving to her that he really was trying to change. As well as a way of giving them something to talk about and lessening the tension of being around each other—especially when it was just the two of them in their private log cabin, tiptoeing around each other as they had done in the early days at the cottage.

  Ben suppressed his frustration. For every two steps forward they seemed to take together it seemed that there was always something to send them a step backwards. But, he rationalised, at least it was some kind of progress. However, whilst the choice of location had provided a much needed buffer for the last few days, it had perhaps made it too easy for them to avoid the real issue, and Ben was determined that tonight they would talk.

  By the time she walked back into the living room he was already in the kitchen, downing a pint of water in the hope that it would ease his cracking voice. He turned to face her and instantly his mouth went dry again.

  She had left her hair to dry naturally into the loose natural curls he loved. They tumbled around her face and past her shoulders, and even now his fingers itched to slide into their silky depths and pull her lips to his.

  A soft, body-hugging lilac cashmere jumper showcased her breasts and slim waist, and tight black jeans curved lovingly over a pert backside which had his body responding like a teenager. The knee-high boots only heightened his reaction—even if they were flat, so that she wouldn’t slip in the snow.

  What the hell is wrong with you? he berated himself silently. This evening was all about finally telling her what he should have confessed five years ago. Using sex to create an artificial sense of intimacy between them might make him feel better in the short term, but until he could move past that and really open up to her they were never going to have a long-term future.

  If they could ever have a long-term relationship.

  Wresting himself from the moment, he strode across the room, snatched up their parkas and, gently throwing hers over her shoulders, opened the door. He ushered her outside to where a horse-drawn sleigh waited patiently outside the cabin. Two inky black horses stood quietly, their breath forming little clouds in the cold air, and Ben heard Thea’s nervous intake of breath.

  ‘It’s not a big romantic gesture,’ he hastily reassured her. ‘The restaurant is a couple of valleys over, and this is the best option as it can go cross-country.’

  Not entirely a lie. The horse-driven sleigh was the most practical way to get to the restaurant. Its long, wide sleigh-skis allowed it to travel easily over the snow-covered countryside, and they could be raised up to allow thick snow-wheels to carry the carriage easily over roads and paths, too. But Ben hadn’t been entirely unaware of the romantic connotations and had deliberately chosen it with Thea in mind.

  The yellow sleigh was decorated with flowers picked out by gold braiding. Ornate bridles peeked from beneath the blankets which had been temporarily slung over the horses’ backs. The lanterns, which adorned the carriage would be lit once night fell.

  ‘Oh.’

  Was that good or bad? Ben wondered.

  The driver offered them a friendly smile as he jumped down, opening the half-door to the open-topped sleigh and patting the warm rugs which were folded neatly on the seat. Then, moving away, he busied himself with removing the horses’ blankets whilst Ben made his way over, offering his hand to Thea as she approached.

  He helped her in and swung up afterwards, deliberately sitting on the same side as her, but not too close so as to crowd her. He took the blankets the driver had indicted and opened them up, resisting the urge to brush across Thea and tuck them in. Another delaying tactic, he reminded himself, and he wasn’t going to create another excuse to put off his confession to another day.

  At the driver returned to his seat at the front, and signalled the horses to move off, Ben caught the tilt of Thea’s lips. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but enjoy the gentle lurching movement and the sound of crunching snow under the horses’ hooves and the sleigh’s snow-wheels.

  This first part of their trip took them around the old town while the driver gave them something of a historical tour of the place. Ben felt Thea relaxing more and more as she engaged with the driver, learning about the area and asking questions. It was so typically Thea, Ben was beginning to realise. Although it ruffled him that Thea could be more at ease with a stranger than she was with him right now.

  Their tour of the town over, the sleigh made its way out of the central area and towards the lower slopes. The slow, mechanical ratcheting noise of the sleigh-skis coming down was the only sound to punctuate the stillness. The next part of their journey, heading over to a neighbouring town, was about to begin, and as the buildings fell away behind them Ben felt Thea edge forward to talk to the driver about the region itself. Anything to avoid feeling as if she was alone with him, it seemed.

  The daunting prospect of their conversation later this evening began to creep up on him, and as Thea learned about the area he leaned back into the soft blankets and listened, distracting his mind.

  Finally the sleigh dropped down out of the countryside and into a large, busy town, and soon they stopped outside a non-descript-looking building with heavy, ornate, chunky wooden doors.

  Elden Huset—The Firehouse—by name and by former nature.

  ‘We’re dining here?’ Thea glanced up, surprised.

  She felt torn. She’d been itching to eat here ever since she’d seen it on a popular cooking show back home. With their ‘back to the Stone Age’ birchwood fire cooking, the chefs had been lavished with praise, and the whole experience had looked wonderfully sensational. But things with Ben were as awkward as ever, and she couldn’t imagine enjoying the experience with such a cloud hanging over them. The sleigh ride had been difficult enough.

  He’d told her they were going to talk tonight, but instead of making her feel better it had only made her feel even more on edge. He might not realise it, but Ben wasn’t the only one with a confession. She still had to tell him about the baby. Their baby. And she didn’t relish the thought one little bit.

  Allowing Ben to open the door, Thea stepped inside, and the sounds, sights and aromas which instantly assaulted her senses promised her that she was in for an incredible experience.

  Despite her initial apprehension, for a while all her concerns receded into the background. With a growing sense of excitement, she moved further inside. The place was all leather, copper and stone, the chefs in flannel shirts, working in an open kitchen where the occasional burst of flame whooshed up towards the thick, oak-timber-beamed ceilings in a blaze of glory which ignited her sense of smell and her tastebuds with tantalising delight.

  ‘This place is incredible...’ She inhaled the smoky scent with deep, appreciative breaths, hearing the sound of crackling birchwood and clanging copper pots, which lent an exciting edge to the atmosphere.


  Thea’s eyes were drawn to the smooth grace of the chefs, working in such harmony, and she watched as one chef took a generous piece of salmon, wrapped it in hay, and thrust it onto the bars above the fire. The flames took hold of the hay and the fire blazed over the salmon in seconds, leaving it apparently black and burned-looking. Then the chef turned it over to repeat the action, before taking the fillet out and sliding it onto another tray, which he slid into what looked like a wood furnace.

  Remembering Ben, she turned—only to find he was also watching the proceedings with the same look of intensity on his face that she’d had. Somehow it helped her to relax a little, and she was able to enjoy watching the chef pulling the tray out of the oven. In one slick, efficient movement he peeled the blackened skin off the salmon to reveal a pink, perfectly cooked piece of fish. Her mouth practically watered even as he finished serving it up, and she swallowed once...twice.

  ‘I’m having that,’ she declared, as soon as she’d regained control of her mouth.

  The spectacle of the restaurant had changed the atmosphere between them—if only temporarily. And by the time they’d ordered and their meal had arrived Thea was beginning to feel comfortable enough to just enjoy this part of the evening without being wrapped up in what happened next.

  ‘My mum used to love to cook,’ Ben said suddenly—unexpectedly.

  She opened her mouth, then closed it again. When he had promised her they would talk tonight, this wasn’t what she had expected. Ben had never talked about his family—not to her, at least. She’d gleaned from Daniel, before she’d ever met Ben, that Ben’s mother had died when he was young—maybe the same age Thea had been when her own parents had been killed.

  ‘It must have been hard for you when she died.’ She knew exactly what he must have gone through. ‘Isn’t your father in the Army, like you?’

  ‘Yes, he’s in the Army—but he’s not medical, like me.’ Ben answered her question, then reflected for a moment before continuing. ‘And you’re right—it wasn’t easy. Although it must have been worse for you, losing both your parents. After Mum’s death my father cleared out all reminders of her from the house. Photos, jewellery—anything she had loved and valued. We never spoke about her again.’

  ‘Never?’ Thea replied, shocked. It was so different from the way Daniel had helped her when their own parents had died. He’d made a scrapbook of photos and memories, so that she’d felt she would never forget them. He’d talked to her as often as she had wanted, answered as many questions as she’d asked, and almost always found some way to make her laugh again.

  Her brother’s endless support and love had nurtured her spirit, influencing her to become the person she was today. She couldn’t imagine how it would have affected her to have been forbidden from talking about her parents. If Ben had been almost conditioned not to think talk about his mother from a child, was it any wonder that he found it so difficult to open up to her...to anyone...now? He and Daniel had been close, but she was beginning to understand why Ben was so closed off.

  ‘What else do you remember about your mum?’ Thea asked tentatively.

  ‘Plenty.’ His voice was thick, loaded. ‘My father might have taken everything tangible of hers which I wanted to cherish—photos of her, the emerald necklace I always remembered her wearing, even the damned sofa cushions she loved to sew—but he couldn’t take my memories.’

  Couldn’t take my memories...

  The words punched through to her stomach. How many times had she thought the same thing about her baby? She might have lost the one thing she had cherished the most, but the love was still there, the memory of that feeling of knowing a life was growing inside her. That single scan.

  ‘She used to teach me how to bake cakes as a kid,’ Ben continued hesitantly, as though he was fighting to speak. ‘Then how to cook.’

  ‘Is that where you learned to make the pancakes you cooked me that time?’ Curiosity crept over her.

  ‘Yes—and thanks to her I can rustle up something a bit better if I want to. I can even make a mean Madagascan vanilla bean soufflé. I once dreamed of becoming a chef when I grew up.’

  ‘Really? What did your mum think?’

  Ben hunched his shoulders. ‘She encouraged it. She never wanted me to become a soldier—she was frightened she’d lose me. I’ve always wondered, if I hadn’t gone into the Army, if I might have made it as a chef. I’d have loved to start something like this. It’s right up my street.’

  ‘I can see you as a chef...’ Thea murmured. ‘Why didn’t you do it? Too many memories?’

  ‘No. My father didn’t encourage it, and I always wanted to please him so I followed his lead.’

  ‘And did it please him?’ she couldn’t help asking.

  Ben pulled a face. ‘There was never any pleasing him. But I didn’t find that out until much later on, and by then I’d already chosen my path. So I made it work for me and decided to have nothing more to do with him.’

  Thea stayed quiet. She missed her family. They weren’t around to talk to and she’d have given anything for one last conversation. It was unimaginable to her that Ben should be in a position where he could talk to his father, but that things were so bad he didn’t want to.

  Her heart suddenly ached for him. His relationship with his father wasn’t something she’d ever thought about, but now she couldn’t stop wondering what kind of a father Ben would have made himself. Even given the circumstances, somehow she didn’t think he would have abandoned her—or his baby. Or put them through whatever he had been through.

  The guilt pressed in on her with even more force.

  ‘Would you ever leave the Army and try?’ she asked, trying to jog the thought from her head.

  ‘What? Becoming a chef? No chance. Too old now!’ Ben laughed.

  ‘You love being a Major?’ She struggled to keep her tone light, to betray none of the sadness she felt for him. Or her self-reproach.

  A shadow crossed his face. ‘Not any more. I’ve worked hard, I’ve done my duty, I’ve given my all. But now I don’t think I have any more to give.’

  ‘But you would never leave?’ She held her breath in shock.

  ‘I’d like to, but... I still feel tied in. I’m working on it.’

  Thea knew she was staring. Hastily she averted her gaze, but her mind was swimming. She’d thought the Army was his life—she’d never thought he would consider leaving.

  Ben moved his hand across the table to take hers, turning it over gently and rubbing his thumb on her palm.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He looked her straight in the eyes. ‘About the other night.’

  Was it only such a short while ago? It almost felt a lifetime earlier.

  ‘It should never have happened.’

  She could only stare at him. It was happening again—another mistake. She was such an idiot.

  But he was pressing on uncomfortably. ‘After that motorway call-out I finally admitted to myself I still had feelings for you—I was driven by some need for you. I should have controlled it—waited until I’d addressed the issues which had kept us apart in the first place. I hope I haven’t ruined it between us.’

  ‘So you still...want me?’ Her mind was reeling.

  ‘Yes. And I’m sorry for not trusting you, Thea, for not wanting you to see my scars. You’ve only ever been supportive and that was unfair of me and so very wrong.’

  ‘Why didn’t you trust me?’ Thea asked quietly, still trying absorb the fact that he wasn’t rejecting her. Again.

  ‘I don’t know. I know that you’ll be there for me, no matter what. You’ve already proved that. There’s no one single thing I can pinpoint. But I guess the day before had been a traumatic day for everyone, and I don’t find it easy to talk anyway. With memories of my own accident, it all came to a head. And maybe I felt as though you wer
e holding back a little.’

  ‘Do you really believe that?’ Thea’s heart lurched with guilt. ‘That I was holding back?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Ben shook his head apologetically. ‘No. Probably not. I was trying to deflect. You were right. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight during that RTC. Anyway, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be.’ Thea swallowed. After seeing him save that baby her head had been all over the place—it was no wonder Ben had picked up on that.

  ‘No. I am sorry. I should have trusted you enough to tell you. I didn’t, and that wasn’t right. You deserve better than that from me.’

  Thea felt her eyes prick—couldn’t look up from the remnants of her meal. He thought she deserved better but he was right—she had been holding back. She was still holding back. Ever since he’d walked towards her with that baby she’d been fighting to shut out the painful memories. And Ben was a part of them. With every new confession he made to her it only made her feel more conscience-stricken. It was time to tell him the truth. Because—really—didn’t he deserve better from her?

  ‘Thea? Are you all right?’

  His evident concern only heightened her gnawing guilt. She pushed her chair back and rose to her feet. Words were lodged in her throat and she had to force them out.

  ‘Can we get out of here?’

  He frowned. She didn’t blame him for being confused. Still, he nodded and stood up too.

  ‘I’ll find someone and pay.’ He glanced around for a waiter, signalled to him, then turned back.

  She couldn’t bear the way he was looking at her.

  ‘I’ll wait outside,’ she muttered, turning swiftly and doing all she could not to run for the door.

  The cold night air made her bury her head in her jumper. In her haste she’d forgotten her coat, and it was freezing out here. She stopped, half turning back to the restaurant, knowing she would have to go in but unable to bring herself to do so. No—better to find their sleigh and grab one of the blankets from there.