by Judy Duarte
He slowly shook his head.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said again.
She knew that. But she’d come anyway. She hadn’t been able to stay away, although his tone and his obvious discomfort with her presence caused her to regret the impulse to visit.
Yet she’d wanted to see him, to learn the extent of his injuries for herself. And she wasn’t about to ponder why. She damn well knew why she was here. Something had stirred inside her that night they’d met. And right now, it was possible that a little someone was stirring in her womb. A child they’d created.
But she didn’t dare voice a possibility like that. Not here. Not now.
“How’s your crew chief?” she asked.
“He’ll live. And he’ll fly again.” Something in his harsh tone, his lack of sympathy for the guy, suggested there was more to it than that.
But she knew better than to press for information he wasn’t yet willing to give. So she said, “That’s good.”
“Yeah. For him.”
Her stomach knotted, forming something cold and hard that dropped to her gut. “But not for you?”
He turned back to face her. “No. I’m going to end up with a medical discharge.” He lifted a bruised hand to his bandaged eye. “And I’ll most likely have a vision problem that means I’ll never fly again.”
“I’m sorry.”
He let out a guttural sound, something raw and torn that revealed a wound deep inside, one that couldn’t be seen or treated with gauze or pain medication.
She hurt for him, grieved deep in her heart. She knew the Army was his life, as it was hers. Yet, on the other hand, if he was getting out, that took the fraternization issue off the table.
“Well, I can come back to visit you, and when you’re released we could keep seeing each other.” She hesitated, realizing this was a fresh wound for him in more ways than one. “I mean, technically we’re not crossing any forbidden lines anymore, so—”
He slowly shook his head. “Don’t bother. I’ll be going back to Texas as soon as I’m discharged.”
Now, there was a downside she hadn’t considered.
He cleared his throat. “Listen, Sergeant, I’m not feeling very good. I need to get some rest.”
She could certainly understand that, but the fact that he’d called her by her rank rather than her name said a lot more than his actual words. And so did his tone. She tried to blame it on his obvious disappointment at his diagnosis, on the pain and his medication. Yet it still hurt to be dismissed.
“Sure, I’ll let you get some rest. But I’ll be back.” She’d have to, especially if that pregnancy test revealed what she feared it might.
“Like I said, don’t.”
She nodded, then turned and walked away, accepting the news like a good soldier. But before she got two steps down the hospital corridor, tears filled her eyes and an ache settled deep in her heart.
Clay wasn’t the only one whose plans had gone awry. She was facing her own dilemma. And apparently, he wasn’t going to be much help to her.
* * *
Not only did Clay hurt like hell, he felt like an ass. He hadn’t meant to treat Rickie that way, to be so rude, but he’d just suffered a devastating blow. He’d hardly had ten minutes to digest the doctor’s diagnosis, which had been far more crippling than a bum leg or vision problems, when she’d popped up unexpectedly.
Just the sight of her had made things all the worse. Sure, he was tempted to reach out to her, to accept her concern and sympathy. But that would have only complicated the issue.
Guilt continued to niggle at him, building until it rose up and struck him like a football helmet to the chest. He glanced at the empty doorway, where she’d once stood.
He’d more or less dismissed her like a bumbling new recruit. But he couldn’t deal with that now. Not when he was still struggling to wrap his mind around his new reality.
Granted, he could use a little comfort and TLC right now. But not the kind Rickie would bring. She seemed to think that, once he was discharged from the Army, they could continue seeing each other, which would never work.
Even if he were up for a relationship of some kind, he’d be damned if he’d sit back as a civilian and watch her Army career take off. Not when his had just crashed and burned.
Besides, he wasn’t the kind of guy who’d settle down with one woman. A commitment like that usually led to marriage, and Clay refused to even contemplate being tied down with anyone, even Rickie.
He’d only been five when his father had deployed for Desert Storm, and he’d been six when they’d gotten word his dad had died in battle. So he’d been too young to remember or to pay any attention to his parents’ interactions. His stepgrandmother and Granddad had split up right before Clay and his mom had moved to the Bar M, so they hadn’t set any long-term romantic examples, either.
Poncho had grown up in foster care, and Duck had been raised by his uncle, a single cowboy who’d sworn off women after his fiancée ran off with a country-western singer bound for Nashville. And some of Clay’s military friends, the few guys who were married, didn’t seem to be all that happy. Maybe it had to do with added responsibilities and curfews. After all, he’d heard that old saying—happy wife, happy life.
As far as Clay was concerned, a wife or even a serious girlfriend would clip his wings—if that blasted flight mishap hadn’t already torn them off.
So he wouldn’t consider a relationship with Rickie. Even if she decided not to reenlist and moved back to Texas, it wouldn’t work. They lived in different cities located at least fifty miles apart. Maybe more than that.
No, it was best that Clay had pretty much ended what little thing they might have had and run her off. She’d be happier that way. And so would he. In a few weeks, he’d be back home, waiting for his head to clear and his bones to mend. Then he’d work the family spread, taking some of the responsibility off his mom and Granddad. Even if he’d had other options, it was only right that he step up and take his turn.
Still, he’d never wanted to be a rancher or a cowboy. Not day in and day out, season after season. It’d make for a boring life, if you asked him. Yet now it was the only viable option he had, and he rolled his eyes at his new normal.
Yippee ki-yay.
* * *
After leaving Tripler, Rickie stopped by a pharmacy and purchased an over-the-counter pregnancy test. But instead of taking it home, she pulled into a nearby fast food restaurant and parked. She wasn’t hungry, even though she’d had a light lunch and it was already past her usual dinner hour.
She was too nervous to eat, but since she wanted an excuse for going inside to use the restroom, she ordered a cheeseburger to go. While it was being prepared, she carried her small shopping bag into the ladies’ room.
In the privacy of a stall, she opened the package. While holding the testing apparatus in one hand, she read the instructions. It was all pretty simple. If she was pregnant, a plus sign would form. If not, she’d see a minus. It wouldn’t take long.
So she followed the directions and waited for the results. She was both excited and frightened at the prospect of being pregnant, which made no sense. She ought to be scared spitless after the way Clay had treated her, after the words he’d said. He’d made it clear that she’d be facing parenthood on her own.
She’d held her head high as she left his hospital room, but it hadn’t been easy not to crumple at the way he’d treated her. It wasn’t just his words and tone that had hurt her. He’d brushed off that night they’d shared on the North Shore like a stale bread crumb, when she’d considered it special. Apparently, their lovemaking meant nothing to him, which only served to gradually turn her hurt to anger.
She glanced at the test, afraid to look yet afraid not to. Talk about being mixed up and confused.
As a plus sign began as a light shade of baby blue and then darkened, she slowly shook her head. She was pregnant. With Clay’s baby.
Now what?
&nb
sp; She was both shaken and delighted—shaken because she didn’t have any experience with babies, and now she was going to be a single mom. Yet at the same time, she was happy to know she was going to have someone to love, someone to love her back.
At this point, she had no idea if that little someone would be a girl or a boy. That really didn’t matter.
But something else did. That son or daughter was going to need her. So how could she consider staying in the military and facing potential deployments? She didn’t have any family support, so she wouldn’t have anyone to keep her baby for her while she was gone, even if it was just for a weekend training. And if truth be told, even if she did find a trusted sitter, she wasn’t going to leave her child in someone else’s care.
She would raise her child on her own. It would be better that way. She just had to put some thought into the future and make a game plan. It would be difficult, but not impossible.
Besides, she had a lot more going for her than many single mothers did. She even had a mortgage-free home in Jeffersville. That is, if the busy handyman she’d lined up had actually found time to complete the repairs and paint the place.
The more she thought about moving back to Texas, putting her own mark on that little brick house and making it a home for herself and her baby, the more she liked the idea. It was the perfect solution.
As she tossed away the used testing apparatus, she thought of something else. She’d be living an hour or so away from Clay’s hometown of Wexler. Not that it mattered, but she’d have to tell him about the baby. He might even want to...
No, he wouldn’t. But he did deserve to know he was going to be a father, didn’t he?
She’d have to tell him, even if it complicated his life. It might complicate hers, too.
Could she handle seeing Clay for visitations, birthday parties and school events? Would the sight of him always remind her of how that sweet baby was placed in her womb?
Surely, she’d get used to seeing him, to figuring out a way to coparent. Besides, the baby deserved to know its daddy.
There might also be a concern about genetics, family illnesses and that sort of thing.
By the time she returned to the barracks, her appetite had returned, and she’d wolfed down the cheeseburger. She’d also created a solid game plan.
She wasn’t going to reenlist. Instead, she’d go home to Texas and fix up a nursery in her old bedroom. She’d also use her GI Bill benefits to pay for nursing school. In the meantime, she’d apply for a job at one of the hospitals. There was no telling when a suitable position would open up, but at least she could get her name in the system. She’d also have to find a competent and loving nanny, but she had about seven months to do that.
How hard could it be?
Chapter Five
It had been three months since the flight mishap ended Clay’s military career, and he was finally back on the Bar M, trying to settle into life as a cattleman.
His knee was on the mend, although it was still giving him trouble and he had to rely on a cane whenever he walked on uneven ground. But it was coming along okay, thanks to the physical therapy department at the Brighton Valley Medical Center and Clay’s determination to push through the pain.
It sucked to work so hard to be whole again, but how many times had he told his men “Embrace the suck”?
His head injury had healed, and he could see well enough. But his vision still wasn’t as good as it had been. He supposed that was to be expected after the optic nerve damage. At least he wasn’t blind in one eye.
In some ways, it was good to be home. Duck and Poncho stopped by regularly and did their best to cheer him up. It worked, but only while they were visiting. After that, reality set in, and he had to face the fact that he’d given up an exciting life for one that was so-so at best.
His mom and grandfather were happy to have him back on the Bar M, and while he tried to accept the fact that his life had changed, he couldn’t seem to escape the dark mood that followed him after his hospital stay at Tripler.
He tried to shake it by spending most of his waking hours outdoors in the sunshine, but he still couldn’t do much work yet, at least not the heavy stuff that would ease Granddad’s daily load. So most of the time he sat on the front porch, just like he was doing this afternoon.
The screen door squeaked open, and his mom stepped outside. “Can I bring you something to drink? Lemonade or maybe some sweet tea?”
“No, thanks. I’m okay for now.”
She continued to stand there, as if he might change his mind. She did that a lot these days, waiting on him and hanging around as if she might be able to say or do something that would set things back to right and lift his mood once and for all.
But she couldn’t help. Like the physical therapist told him again today, some things just take time.
“There’s some leftover German chocolate cake,” she added. “I’d be happy to bring you a slice.”
Clay appreciated her attempts to make things better, and while she tried her damnedest, that was something he’d have to do on his own, and so far, he hadn’t had much luck.
On the other hand, she made no secret of the fact that she was pleased to have him home—safe and sound—even if he wasn’t the happy-go-lucky son she’d once had.
Clay understood that. He really did. But what she believed was a blessing and a wonderful turn of events he considered bad luck.
“I worry about you,” she said, moving in closer. “You’ve lost weight, and you’re not eating like you should. I wish you’d at least take those vitamins I got you.”
“I’m fine.” He stroked his bum knee, hoping to ease the ache without resorting to another dose of extra-strength ibuprofen tablets. “The doctors and my physical therapist haven’t complained.”
She lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the afternoon sun. The quick action reminded him of a half-ass salute and of the life he’d been forced to give up.
“All right,” she said. “Then I’ll try not to worry. But it’s not easy being a mom.”
Motherhood had never been easy for her. She still tended to hover over him, much like she did when he was a kid. He’d resented it then, enough to rebel every chance he got. And it still bothered him now—especially since he was no longer a rebellious adolescent, who could escape by sneaking out his bedroom window to meet his friends. About the only escape he got these days was the drive back and forth to the medical center for physical therapy.
His mom stepped around his bad leg, which he’d stretched out in front of him, and sat beside him. Before she could change the subject, an unfamiliar car drove into the yard.
“Looks like we have company,” she said, getting to her feet. “Or else someone took a wrong turn and needs directions. I’ll check on it.”
Clay didn’t give the vehicle a second thought until the driver’s door opened and he spotted the pretty brunette getting out.
What was Rickie doing here? Had she gotten transferred to a base in Texas?
She’d traded in her Army uniform for a pair of black jeans and a pink blouse. Her hair shimmered in the afternoon sun, the curls tumbling over her shoulders. She’d always caused him to sit up and take notice, and today was no different.
He studied her as she approached the porch. She looked...different. He couldn’t put his finger on it. There was a new look in her eye; a glow that had nothing to do with the afternoon sunshine. And while her curves had attracted him on the beach, she looked even sexier now. He had to admit that he was not only surprised to see her but actually glad she’d come.
“Hey,” she said, as she reached the first step to the wraparound porch.
“What a surprise.” Clay probably ought to stand and greet her, which was the polite thing to do, but he’d just gotten home from physical therapy, and his knee hurt like hell.
His mom, on the other hand, took up the slack on courtesy, because she quickly greeted Rickie with an outstretched hand. “I take it you’r
e one of Clay’s friends. I’m his mother, Sandra. It’s nice to meet you.”
“I’m Erica Campbell. But you can call me Rickie.”
Mom turned to Clay, her expression quizzical and begging for details. When he’d been a kid, that look had bothered him, so he would clam up to protect his privacy. And, admittedly, to piss her off. But he couldn’t really blame her for being curious today. He hadn’t expected to see Rickie again, and he wondered why she’d come.
“Rickie and I met in Hawaii,” Clay explained. “We were both stationed there.”
His mother brightened and blessed Rickie with a warm and welcoming smile. “I’m glad you dropped by. Can I get you something to drink? I have fresh-squeezed lemonade. And I always have a pitcher of sweet tea on the counter.”
“Sure,” Rickie said. “I’ll have whatever is easiest. Thanks.”
As soon as his mother hurried into the house, leaving them alone, Rickie made her approach. “I hope you don’t mind me stopping by.”
“Not at all. It’s been a long time. How’d you find this place?”
“It wasn’t hard. I did an internet search, then used my GPS system.”
He glanced at the car she’d been driving, a late-model Toyota Celica. “Is that a rental?”
“No, it belonged to my mother. It’s mine now.”
He scrunched his brow, a bit confused. She’d mentioned getting a different car. “Are you going to ship it back to Hawaii?”
“No, I didn’t reenlist. I’m living in Jeffersville now.”
Clay hadn’t seen that coming. She’d been so intent on staying in the Army. Had she changed her mind, hoping they could rekindle their relationship? If so, that made him feel all the worse.
He wasn’t the man he used to be, although he hoped to be close to it one day soon. And while he wasn’t the least bit opposed to making love with her again, he hated to see her give up her dreams. If that’s what she’d done, then she was hoping for more than a physical relationship.
“You shouldn’t have done it for me,” he said.
She stiffened and took a step back. “I did it for me.”
