Degree of Risk

by Lindsay McKenna

  “I’m far from perfect, Ethan.” It hurt to say these words out loud. Sarah knew she wasn’t normal. Nothing in her life had ever been normal. Sarah said these words to herself, but never to anyone else. “Some days, I feel so much hope, even happiness. And then something happens, a man makes a pass at me, and I plunge right back down into what I grew up in.” Her voice broke. “I know I’m not whole.” Damaged goods. That’s what Bill had told her. No man will ever look at you. You’re damaged goods and you’re worthless.

  “You are the most beautiful, heart-centered woman I’ve ever known, Sarah.” Ethan spoke softly near her ear, gently moving his hand down her arm and across her thigh and knee, soothing her. His voice was low and gritty. “You’re perfect for me, Sarah. In every way. I see your heart, I see your care of others. I see your fearlessness. You’re one of a kind and you’re mine.”

  Sarah sat up, rubbing her eyes. Ethan kept his arm around her, drawing her against him, wanting to give her his touch, his love. “God, I’ve never cried so much in my whole life, Ethan,” she said, grimacing. “There’s just something about you…I let down…I trust and—” Sarah shook her head, muttering, “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

  He caught her shy gaze. “You’re in love, angel. Love changes all of us for the better.”

  Reaching up, Ethan used his thumbs to dry the last of her tears from her cheeks. She still had the look of a scared animal. Or more to the truth, a frightened little girl unsure of where she fit into her fractured world, not knowing what to expect next. He could rebuild those areas within her over time because Sarah trusted him.

  “Look at me,” Ethan urged.

  Sarah lifted her chin and drowned in Ethan’s warm gray eyes, his face tender with love for her. “I don’t deserve someone like you, Ethan….”

  “Yes, you do.” He framed her face with his hands. “You have something every SEAL has, do you know that?”

  Sarah shook her head, starving for his tenderness, her heart hurting, the fear ripping her apart. She cleared her throat and asked, “What?”

  Ethan held her hesitant gaze. “The ethos of the SEALs is that you have to have a warrior’s soul. That means—” his voice lowered to a growl “—that you’re a fighter. And if you get attacked, you fight back. And even better, you take the fight to the enemy. You’ve done this, Sarah. You fought back as a child. When you were old enough to know the police could help you, you ran to them, asking for help.

  “Everything you’ve done in your life is about your own personal honor, your code of conduct and that bar you hold so high for yourself. Out here in Afghanistan, you’re a warrior for those that can’t help themselves. You fly into combat without ever thinking about it. And you care. My God, you care so damned deeply you don’t even flinch when the bullets are coming your way. You know why you’re sitting in that right-hand pilot’s seat, Sarah. Your commitment to the wounded is beyond most people’s understanding, but not mine because I see you.”

  Shaken by the emotions behind Ethan’s words, she closed her eyes. “I guess I’ve never seen myself like that.”

  Ethan drew her to him, moving his mouth against her wet, salty lips. He kissed her tears away, sharing her pain, wanting her to know just how incredible she really was. He looked deeply into her wounded eyes. “SEALs get hurt all the time out in the field, Sarah. We’re so used to physical pain in so many forms and we just ignore it. We push our bodies beyond normal human limits because we have a warrior soul. We’re out there trying to protect these poor Afghan people in these villages. We’re waging a war against those who would terrorize them, murder them and kidnap their children. We work hurt. You can’t do that if you don’t believe in something larger than yourself, to rise above your own level of suffering. You hold yourself to a higher bar of conduct, honor and truth.” He compressed his mouth and then said quietly, “Sarah, you wear your wounds on the inside of yourself.

  “That’s the only difference between you and the SEALs. You hold yourself accountable to that same level and standard of excellence and you fly, regardless of how much you’re inwardly hurting.”

  Sarah looked away. Hearing Ethan’s impassioned words, his examples, something old and haunting dissolved within her. She felt it. Her mouth softened and she whispered, “I like thinking of myself as having a warrior soul.” She gazed at Ethan, feeling how much he loved her, how much he believed in her. It was then that Sarah realized that he’d never seen her as “less than.” Not as damaged goods. Not as all those things Bill Caldwell used to tell her daily. The look of pride in his eyes for her overwhelmed her fragile emotional state. “From now on, I’m going to think of myself in those terms. Every time I get scared or I don’t think I can do something or I feel like I’m sabotaging myself, I’m going to remember tonight, Ethan. And I’m going to hold your words in my soul.”

  “It’s a good start, angel. Let’s go to bed,” Ethan urged.

  Sarah nodded. She was exhausted emotionally and was sure he must be, too. “I just want the luxury of holding you in my arms all night long.”

  *

  Sarah awoke slowly, feeling the bed and how good it felt. For once, she wasn’t having to wear her uniform to bed. The sheet covering her naked body felt like an indulgence compared to her tent home at Camp Bravo. Just being able to stretch her body, sense the fine texture of the sheet beneath her, felt so good to her. As she lifted her arms above her head to stretch, she heard the door quietly open. Ethan entered carrying a tray.

  “Good morning,” she whispered, giving him a drowsy smile. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans. No shoes on his bare feet. Sarah’s heart lurched with such powerful love for Ethan, she felt awash in it.

  “Sleepyhead,” he murmured, meeting her half-opened eyes. He quietly shut the door behind him. “I thought you might like breakfast in bed. It’s not something I can do at Bravo.” He grinned, drowning in her widening eyes. Ethan had awakened much earlier. He’d lain there watching Sarah sleep. In sleep, all the tension and war within her, ceased to exist. He had absorbed her quiet, natural beauty, the soft way her lips parted, the shallow rise and fall of her chest as she slept, secure and safe.

  “That’s so sweet,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes and sitting up. The sheet fell away, pooling around her hips. “I think I can get used to this.” Sarah grinned up at him.

  “You deserve to be waited on,” Ethan said, placing the tray across her lap. He sat down beside her and handed her the pink linen napkin. Sarah’s black hair was deliciously tangled, her eyes still holding remnants of sleep. She was naked and he sat there appreciating her beauty as a woman. There was no shyness in her as he watched her look at the breakfast before her.

  “Pancakes,” she said, her voice awed. Looking up at Ethan, she asked, “Did you make these?” They were her favorite breakfast food.

  “Guilty,” he drawled, picking at the plate of bacon, munching on a crisp strip. “The poor housekeeper didn’t know what to do with me. I was out there rummaging around through all of Emma’s cabinets looking for the ingredients. Bless her heart, she finally realized I was on a mission of mercy and left me alone.” Ethan chuckled.

  “I like your idea of a mission of mercy,” Sarah said, adding butter and then maple syrup to the stack of three pancakes. She met his smiling light gray eyes. “Thank you, Ethan.” Her voice grew husky. “You didn’t have to do this….”

  “I wanted to.” He became sober. “After last night, I thought you needed a pick-me-up, not a downer.” Sarah’s eyes grew moist and he leaned forward and brushed her mouth with a kiss. “No one said living life was easy.”

  She nodded, seeing the guilt in Ethan’s eyes. Sarah understood how sensitive he was beneath that SEAL layer of himself. “It’s okay,” she said. Giving him a warm smile, she dug eagerly into the pancakes. “I love you, Ethan. I’ve never been so spoiled in my life.”

  He sat there watching her eat heartily and it helped lift some of his own guilt about how he’d blundered through last night
. Relationships were never easy. With Sarah, Ethan knew there would be land mines to traverse with her at times.

  “When we get past our military obligations, I am going to spoil you every day of your life.” And he would. Ethan watched her blue eyes grow warm with love for him.

  “Mmm,” she murmured, “I think I got lucky. Not only do you write the most beautiful poetry that moves my heart and soul, but you’re a chef, too.”

  He grinned. “My mother wouldn’t have it any other way. She had me in the kitchen at nine years old, learning how to make biscuits from scratch. She made all the boys learn how to cook, clean and do dishes.”

  Sarah picked up a piece of bacon, enjoying the salty taste. “I really like your mother,” she said. “She raised you right.” Sarah flashed Ethan a wicked grin.

  “You’re going to like her a lot. She’s a woman of direct action.” Ethan wanted to keep the conversation light. He purposely steered in the direction of his family. Sarah had had six years of her young life in a normal home. Hank and Mary Benson’s love had repaired some of the damage done to her. He wondered if she’d been a rebellious, angry child by that time. Most likely, yes. Wounded animals, like wounded humans, grew defensive and felt threatened by the world around them. Had Sarah been able to work through that with them or not? Had Mary Benson been able to guide her as a girl growing into a young woman? Sarah had no idea how beautiful she was, nor did she seem aware of her power as a woman. Ethan felt that Mary probably wasn’t able to connect with her on those levels. She probably had her hands full with Sarah just getting her to socialize enough to go to school and graduate.

  Hank Benson had given her an outlet that Sarah interpreted as freedom. The sky held her in loving arms, removed from the pain she’d experienced down on earth. Flying had become her lifeline. It was the one constant in her life that not only helped her survive, but thrive.

  Today, Ethan wanted to hear Sarah laugh, to tease her and be teased back. The laughter shining in her eyes right now was all that mattered. She had lived through the darkness, survived it with a splintered heart and a fractured soul. Ethan wanted to continue to strengthen her, have her discover all of who she was as a woman, not just as a helicopter pilot. With time, patience and his love, he could be that guiding heart map for Sarah. No one deserved the chance more than she did.

  Sarah ate everything he’d made for her. Three pancakes, two eggs, six strips of bacon and a cup of fresh fruit. Groaning, she lay back on the headboard, her hand over her stomach. “That was so good, Ethan. Thank you….”

  “Food made with love digests well,” he told her, standing and removing the tray. He sat back down, their hips meeting. Lifting his hand, he grazed her flushed cheek. “What do you want to do today?”

  Sarah caught his hand, feeling the strength as well as tenderness of his fingers surrounding hers. “Kabul isn’t exactly a safe place,” she said wryly. “And it’s not like we can go out for a drive in the countryside because of the threat of RPGs, roadside bombs and the Taliban just waiting to jump us.”

  “You liked the rose garden here. Maybe spend some time out there?”

  “Especially in the morning when it’s cooler,” she agreed. “What do you want to do, Ethan?” And as soon as she asked it, she saw the glint come to his eyes. Laughing softly, she said, “Is there anything other than sex on a man’s mind?”

  He had the good grace to flush. “Probably not.” He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. Flight hands. Healing hands. Gently, Ethan took her hand in his and slowly opened it, tracing his index finger across her palm. “Do you know how beautiful your hands are, Sarah? Your fingers are long and tapered. When you use them, there is such grace in all your movements.”

  A wild electric shock moved from her palm directly to her breasts and nipples. His words, the look on his face, made her heart beat faster. “No, I didn’t,” she admitted, breathless. “I guess I’ve pretty much ignored the body I live in.”

  “Well,” he murmured, kissing each of her fingers, “I’m going to remind you in every way possible how lovely you really are, angel.”

  Sighing, she whispered, “Have you showered yet?”

  “No.” A gleam lit his gray eyes. “Want to shower together?”

  “I liked what happened in there the last time we did.”

  “You like swimming with a SEAL, huh?”

  “I always thought of myself as a bird loving the air, but you’re changing my mind, Ethan. You’re teaching me how to swim and love the water….”

  Sarah leaned toward him, touching his smiling mouth with her lips, feeling the power of him as a man. As her lover. It was such a delicious journey with him as he framed her face, angling her so that his mouth could take full advantage of hers. Heat shimmered through her, soft with promise, her heart opening wide, leaving her breathless in the wake of his exploring mouth.

  “Come on, let’s go swim together,” he said against her lips.

  *

  By 2200 they were back on Bagram air base. Sarah was in her flight suit, all her military gear waiting at Ops while Ethan worked with the Chinook loadmaster placing the two pallets of supplies bound for Camp Bravo into the belly of the helicopter. Night had fallen and she stood there, her body glowing from her recent lovemaking with Ethan. Sarah didn’t want the two days to be over but knew they had been given a priceless gift. Combat didn’t give reprieves very often.

  She watched him move, his body nothing but male animal grace. Ethan wore his SEAL cammies, the pistol strapped to his thigh, the knife in a sheath on his lower left leg. His M4 was slung across his chest, attached to a black nylon harness that held it in place. He was so damned self-assured. Sarah would never get over that level of utter confidence Ethan possessed. But he’d earned it the hard way, gone through the toughest school in the world—Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL or BUD/S, a six-month course from hell. Those six months winnowed out all but the best men who wanted to become SEALs. So few made it through and those who did made it because they had discovered their warrior souls. He’d shared with her some of the excruciating, nonstop physical training, designed to break a lesser man emotionally and mentally. Sarah was very sure she could not have endured it. Ethan smiled and told her she’d already survived it in another way, one more challenging than him surviving BUD/S.

  Ethan waved to her. Sarah picked up her gear, threw on her green baseball cap and left Ops, walking quickly across the tarmac toward where he stood. It was time to go back to Camp Bravo. Heart heavy, she saw his game face was in place. A hard, weathered face, eyes so old with experience and then her gaze dropped to his mouth. Instantly, her body went hot, remembering that mouth caressing every part of her body, loving her until she felt as if she’d died and lived in nothing more than a burning cloud of endless pleasure.

  She lifted her gaze to his and gave Ethan a brave smile. The crew of the Chinook was going through the preflight checklist and the loadmasters were already on board.

  “Ready?” she asked above the noise.

  He shrugged. “Can we stay here?” Ethan teased, cupping her elbow and leading her up the rear ramp into the helo.

  Inside, one loadmaster handed each of them a helmet. Ethan chose the nylon seat right behind the cockpit near the pilot’s seat. Sarah settled the helmet over her head. Ethan hooked the connection into the ICS, the inter-cabin communication system, and then pulled his helmet on. The noise in any helicopter was enough to destroy a person’s hearing and the helmet was the only way to avoid it.

  Ethan noticed the change in Sarah’s face, more somber, her mouth tightening, as if internally and mentally getting ready to go back to Bravo. He knew how she felt. The ramp growled upward, the vibration grinding loudly throughout the helicopter. In minutes, the ramp was locked up into place and dim green light shone throughout the rear area of the chopper.

  Sarah could hear the two pilots talking back and forth, going through the preflight checklist. The first engine came online. The second engine shuddered to life an
d soon the familiar thumping of the blades whirling, vibrated through her. In a way, it soothed her fractious emotions. The Chinook sat shaking and quivering even more. The sensations were always relaxing to Sarah, a familiar feeling. And then they were ready to take off and she heard the tower give the pilot permission to roll.

  She moved her hand to the left where Ethan had his hand on his long, powerful thigh. Slipping her fingers around his, she glanced over at him. She didn’t care if the loadmasters, both at the rear of the Chinook, saw them or not. She needed to touch Ethan, to remember everything about the past two days with him. Sarah watched him tip his head slightly, just enough to catch her glance. His fingers wrapped protectively around hers, squeezing them gently, letting her know how much he loved her.

  In the upper left pocket of her flight suit, she had a poem Ethan had written to her that he’d asked her to always carry on her person. She’d memorized “Sarah’s Poem,” the words filled with so much hope for them.

  The Chinook began trundling like an unwieldy beast toward the airstrip. Most helos made a rolling takeoff, not powering up to lift straight up into the air. It took less fuel and less strain on the bird to make a long, rolling takeoff. She met Ethan’s eyes, which burned with desire for her alone. Even now, her body hotly responded to that incredible, dark look that spoke so eloquently to her.

  As the Chinook rattled and clattered down the runway, it finally lifted off, the twin blades chugging, slicing the air, lifting the heavy body into the night sky. The pallets were tightly locked down onto the deck so they wouldn’t move. If they did, it could kill or injure someone. Sarah leaned her head back and closed her eyes, content to have Ethan’s hand around hers. She knew that tomorrow morning she’d be on standby. It was better than going directly into medevac missions, giving her time to adjust. It would help her reorient. And if she got lucky, maybe no one would need a helo and pilot tomorrow. Wouldn’t that be nice?