Breaking Point

by Lindsey McKenna

  “It’s about Asifa,” he said, wanting to hold her hand forever.

  Bowing her head, Bay pushed the cup away from her. “It’s more than that, Gabe. My little sister...well, she’s almost a spitting image of Asifa. I couldn’t believe it when we found her out there on that mountain yesterday morning. I thought I was looking at Eva-Jo.” Taking in a deep, serrated breath, Bay forced herself to hold Gabe’s green gaze. The game face he wore, the one of confidence and nonchalance, was gone. There was care burning in his eyes for her, and she felt it in the way he gently cradled her hand in his. “Asifa was so young and beautiful. She was pathetically thin, starved. It was like looking at my sister. It tears me up to see children hurt. It doesn’t matter what country they’re from, Gabe.” Bay pressed her hand to her heart. “I love children. I want to see them thrive, be happy and healthy. Finding Asifa holding and rocking her dead brother out there just got to me. It’s a visceral reaction, I can’t explain it.”

  Gently, Gabe released her hand and moved a few curled strands away from her pale cheek with his index finger. “You’ll make a good mother someday, Bay. Above all, you’re a medic and your heart and soul are bound into saving lives. There’s nothing you can do to shield your heart from who you are, baby. Not ever. It’s how you’re built.”

  The grazing touch of his fingers against her temple sent a warm, steadying sensation throughout Bay. When he called her baby, it was as if warm, golden honey coated the insides of her grieving heart and shattered soul. And as Gabe whispered that endearment she saw heat, need and hunger in his eyes—for her. Just the attention he was infusing her with right now was helping her feel far more emotionally stable. Giving him a wry look, she whispered, “How did you get so good at knowing me?”

  Gabe set his plate aside and rested his arms on the table. “You’re easy to read, Bay. There’s no games, no pretense with you. What you see is what you get.”

  Drowning in his warmth, she felt stronger. It was him. Gabe’s ability to be vulnerable when she needed him to be, stunned her. And as Bay held Gabe’s calm, caring gaze, she felt new feelings taking root in her heart for him. Whether she wanted it to happen or not, she was falling in love with this man. Gabe carried the weight of so many lives last night on his shoulders as if it were a normal course of action. He wasn’t devastated by it, but she had been.

  Swallowing, her voice tremulous, Bay said, “Thank you for being who you are, Gabe....”

  They shared a smile before Gabe turned back to the mission at hand. “Listen,” he murmured, “I called Chief earlier this morning. I got up early and checked in with the team by sat phone.”

  Bay took a deep breath. “I wish we didn’t have to go back right now.” She felt too vulnerable, not ready to hit the ground running once they landed at Bravo. All Bay wanted was some time to get herself back together.

  “You got your wish.” Gabe grinned a little. “I told him there was a lot of paperwork to fill out on the copilot being wounded. It was a partial lie to buy us some downtime.” He straightened and moved his stiff shoulders. “The chief told us to be back at 0800 tomorrow. We have all day here to ourselves.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  BAY HAD JUST finished breakfast when the owners of the villa arrived. Khalid Shaheen, dressed in a dark blue flight suit, came over as she and Gabe rose out of his seats.

  “Stay put,” Khalid told Bay, coming over to shake her hand after introductions were made.

  “Thanks for letting us stay here, Captain Shaheen,” Bay said.

  “This is where we get our sanity back,” he said, smiling. “Here’s Emma, my wife. Emma? We have company.”

  A tall, red-haired woman in a dark blue flight suit entered the villa. Bay instantly liked the woman.

  “Gabe, good to see you!” Emma said, throwing her arms around him. “Long time no see.”

  Gabe had the good grace to flush. “Emma, meet my partner, Bay Thorn. She’s an 18 Delta medic.”

  Emma’s eyes widened as she came around the table. “Hey, I’ve got just the job for you! Nice to meet you, Bay.” She leaned over and embraced her.

  Bay’s emotions were raw, but the warmth and sincerity of the owners made her feel good. “Nice to meet you, Emma. Thank you so much for letting us stay here. It was a godsend last night.”

  Emma set her helmet bag on a nearby buffet and smiled. “Like Khalid said, it’s here where we retrieve our sanity. I’ll be right back. Haven’t you eaten breakfast yet?” She pointed toward her coffee cup.

  “No,” Bay murmured. “I don’t have any appetite right now.”

  The woman gave her a long look and then she nodded. “We just flew in from the border. We’re starved.” Emma turned and walked into the kitchen, where her husband and the housekeeper were talking.

  Bay flashed Gabe a concerned glance. “Should we leave?”

  “No. They’re in and out of here all the time. If they invite you here as a guest, you’re considered family.” He regarded her with concern. “Sure you can’t eat something?”

  She shrugged. “I am a little hungry, but I still don’t want to chance it.”

  “These two people would understand exactly what you’re going through, so no worries. How about some scrambled eggs? That should sit light on your stomach.”

  His care made Bay felt less raw. Gabe was like an oak in the storm. And right now he was affording her his protection. “Okay...no promises, though.”

  Gabe pushed the chair back. “Good. I’ll be right back.” He turned and walked into the kitchen.

  Picking up the cooled coffee, Bay sipped it tentatively. The nausea came and went in unexpected waves, but the coffee actually tasted good to her now. Maybe, she thought, she’d just needed to talk it out with Gabe. Sometimes talking helped her get rid of whatever was eating at her.

  “So,” Emma said, sitting down next to Bay with a plate full of eggs and bacon, “you’re an 18 Delta corpsman? I didn’t know the Army had opened it up to women.”

  Bay sidestepped the top-secret reasons and said, “I just got lucky, was all.”

  “I hear you were in one hell of a firefight last night.”

  “It was bad,” Bay conceded softly, moving her fingers around the cup. “So, Gabe said you were an Apache combat pilot?”

  Emma nodded. “Was. I got kidnapped by the Taliban a year ago, held prisoner and got pushed around.” She held up her left hand. “I was kicked in the left shoulder and it damaged nerves in this hand. I still have two fingers that are numb and I can’t feel them. And when you fly an Apache, you have to have feeling in all ten, so the Army released me.”

  Khalid joined them, sitting opposite of Emma and Bay, “My lovely wife was down, but not out.” He gave Emma a warm, loving look.

  Gabe brought over a plate of scrambled eggs and set them front of Bay. She managed a small smile of thanks.

  “Even though you have a permanent injury, you’re able to fly, Emma?” Bay asked.

  “Khalid has a charity program set up for the Afghan children along the border area. We fly in books, desks and teachers to the villages who want our help.” Emma smiled over at her husband. “He doesn’t care if I have two fingers that are numb. I can fly a CH-47 with the best of them.”

  Bay tasted the eggs with trepidation. Surprisingly, they were delicious. Her stomach growled its appreciation. “I think it’s wonderful you two are helping the children. This country has so little....”

  Khalid nodded, spooning the eggs into his mouth. After swallowing, he said, “The only way our country is going to lift itself out of this abject poverty is to educate the children, both boys and girls.”

  Bay smiled over at the tall, lean pilot. “I think it’s a wonderful gesture.”

  Emma lifted her head and directed her attention to Gabe. “Hey, are you two hanging around today by any chance?”
>
  “Yes. Why?” Gabe asked.

  Emma reached out and touched Bay’s hand. “We’ve got a medical clinic set up for an orphanage in Kabul this morning. Bay, would you like to come over and help us? We’ve got a doctor coming but no nurse. Do you feel up to it?”

  “Children?” Bay asked.

  “Yes, all ages,” Khalid warned with a smile. “We go over once a month. The nurse can’t make today because she’s sick.”

  “I’d love to help,” Bay said, feeling her spirits lift. She saw Gabe give her a softened look. Her heart opened even more toward him. “Gabe? Is that all right? Can you come along?”

  “The day’s all yours. I have to get back to Bagram shortly. Chief Hampton wants me to get some supplies at Bagram. We’ll fly back to Bravo tomorrow morning. I’ll catch up with you at the orphanage later in the day.”

  Emma rubbed her hands. “Excellent! Thank you, Bay. You’re practically a doctor, so we’re all in your good hands. Wait till you meet these children! They’re so beautiful and they just make you smile.”

  As Gabe sat there watching the emotions in Bay’s face, he saw the sadness finally dissolve in her beautiful blue eyes. Providence had a way of stepping in to help her, he realized. And he was grateful because Bay was special. Her suffering tore him up inwardly. He couldn’t tell her that. Gabe cared deeply for this hill woman, who had absolutely no protection against her too-generous heart.

  * * *

  GABE WALKED QUIETLY into the orphanage near 1600. He spotted Bay sitting in a rocking chair in one corner, a newborn in her arms. She was feeding the tyke a bottle of milk. A number of children sat around her feet, just happy to be near her. Gabe leaned casually against the doorjamb, smiling to himself. Emma was over in another area of the room, helping the women who cared for the older orphans.

  Amazed at the change in Bay’s face, Gabe allowed himself to remain undetected and simply absorb the moment. No longer did he see tension in Bay. There was a soft smile on her lips as she gently rocked the baby in her arms. Every once in a while, she’d lean down and place a small kiss on the baby’s black hair. The baby would lift its tiny hands, waving them around, and then go back to suckling strongly on the bottle of milk. The other children, all two, three and four years old, played quietly around her feet. Gabe understood why. There was a warm, nurturing energy that always exuded around Bay. He’d noticed it from the day he’d met her. She was very maternal and the children gravitated to her like plants to sunlight.

  Her light brown curls lay against her flushed cheeks. Though he wanted badly to walk over, lean down and kiss her lips, Gabe remained where he was. Last night, she’d been key in their surviving the Taliban attack. This afternoon, he was witnessing her vulnerability with the children. His throat tightened, and Gabe couldn’t ignore his need for her. The promise he’d made her, however, had to remain enforced. More than anything, Gabe wanted Bay’s continued trust. That was more important than stealing a kiss from this woman of the earth.

  Bay looked up, as if sensing him nearby. As she lifted her chin, her blue eyes met his.

  Easing away from the door, his arms dropping to his sides, Gabe walked over to where she rocked the baby. “Looks like you’re having a good day.”

  She watched as he drew over a chair and sat down a few feet opposite her. “Is it that obvious?” Bay looked down and smiled at the infant in her arms.

  Gabe removed his cap, running his fingers through his black hair. The older boys were now gravitating toward him, curious about who he was. “You look beautiful with that baby in your arms,” he said.

  A powerful sensation of love for Gabe moved through Bay. It was the expression burning in his eyes, the rasp in his low tone that moved her.

  “I love newborns. They smell so sweet and fresh.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the little girl’s brow. She had finished the bottle and was now sleeping. Bay placed the bottle on the floor next to the rocker, sliding her arms around the baby.

  “They’re like newborn pups,” Gabe agreed, feeling his entire body tighten with desire for Bay. The openness of her expression, the joy shining in her blue eyes, touched him as no other woman ever had. He wanted to love her, hold her and love her all over again. For a moment, Gabe wanted her to carry his child. It was a primal, powerful feeling of wanting to claim her for his own.

  For once, Gabe didn’t fight his feelings toward Bay as he met and held her radiant gaze filled with joy. The change in her was startling. Breath stealing. This morning, she had been grieving and depressed, with good reason. Now there was nothing but warmth and contentment on her face. And something else... Gabe knew when a woman wanted her man. And if he wasn’t mistaken, that was the look in her blue eyes right now—for him. He felt aroused and instantly controlled his body. Wrong time and place.

  “Puppies smell wonderful, too,” she agreed, fond memories from her own past making her smile. How happy Gabe made her feel by his presence alone! She couldn’t ignore him as she had before. What had changed?

  Swallowing hard, Bay blamed her rocky emotional state for these thoughts. Right now she felt needy and susceptible to him. She knew Gabe would hold her, love her and she’d be happy every minute in his arms. They had four months before his team was rotated out of Afghanistan. And she might well be reassigned elsewhere. Her life was not her own. All she could do was love him from a distance. Look, but don’t touch...

  * * *

  GABE SAT WITH Bay out in the living room near midnight in the villa. He’d come out from his suite to get some water from the kitchen tap and seen her sitting on the couch, staring off into space. Emma had loaned her a set of Levi’s jeans and a green tank top so she didn’t have to wear her cammies. He sauntered over to the living room with a glass of water in hand.

  Bay roused herself from her introspection. She was sitting in the corner of the couch, her feet bare, legs against her body, her arms wrapped around them. Gabe had come to the kitchen without her even hearing him until he’d turned the on tap. There was one lamp on in the living room, the shadows deep. He wore a tan T-shirt that outlined his powerful chest and shoulders, cammie trousers and boots.

  She was struck by how athletic he was. It was a pleasure to watch the play of muscles in his arm as he lifted the glass and drank deeply from it. Right now Bay didn’t feel the coiled tension she normally felt around Gabe. He settled in an overstuffed chair opposite the couch, the coffee table between them.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked her quietly, holding her gaze.

  “Just thinking,” Bay admitted softly, appreciating how ruggedly handsome he was. Gabe settled back in the chair, his long legs splayed out in front of him. There was a naturalness to him. And right now he seemed unguarded, his hair mussed, giving him an air of relaxation instead of that constant tension he carried on duty.

  “Thinking about what?” he wondered, setting the emptied glass on the lamp table next to his chair. “The last two days.”

  “What? Heaven and hell?” He grinned mischievously.

  “Something like that.” Bay pushed curls away from her brow and then laced her fingers together in front of her knees. “So much has happened. I’m trying to process it all, but it’s not happening very fast.”

  “Don’t try to rush it,” Gabe advised. “Trauma is like a deep splinter in your finger,” he told her. “It works its way out over time. The good news is, it will come out.”

  Snorting, Bay said, “Yeah, but where are my tweezers? I don’t like suffering, Gabe. I want the pain gone. Now. Not later. I’ve never handled pain well. That’s why I cry. It’s a relief valve for me and it reduces the pain.”

  “It doesn’t happen that way for me. I wished it did, but that’s not my experience.” Gabe felt tired in a good way, at ease, resting his head against the overstuff chair. Just getting this kind of intimacy with Bay was more than he’d ever dreamed
would happen. It was rare, and tomorrow morning, they’d be thrown back into the mix-master of patrols and ongoing, continued danger. It made their time together excruciatingly special and he felt like a dry sponge absorbing every second.

  Licking her lower lip, she asked softly, “Is there a trick to it?”

  He shook his head and opened his large hand. “Bay, you’ve been in firefights before when you were in Iraq. How did you handle them?”

  “Good point,” she murmured. “I did handle them. It didn’t get to me like this time did.” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t know why....”

  He saw the longing in her eyes for him. It was almost palpable to Gabe as he held her tenuous gaze. “Maybe you’re changing. We’re not static beings. We’re like trees, always putting out new growth.”

  “I like that picture,” she whispered, smiling tentatively. “Maybe I am. I don’t know. I just feel—” she groped for the words “—just different.” She shook her head. “I wish I knew how to work through combat.”

  Gabe sobered. There was such nonverbal desire burning between them. It was a special kind of hell. “Hey,” he teased, trying to lighten her mood, “I’ve got my hands full with myself. I won’t ever pretend to know how another person needs to work through trauma.”

  She sat back. “I’m just glad you’re there, Gabe.” Turning her head, Bay met and held his gaze. “You are an incredible person. I—I’ve never met anyone like you. Ever...”

  He saw the raw need in her eyes, heard it in her husky voice. He felt the same and it hurt a lot. Oh, God, he ached, feeling his lower body hardening, needing her. Last night he’d dreamed of loving every inch of her body. Touching her velvet, warm skin, kissing it, moving his tongue across it, feeling her tense and moan with pleasure. They were adults and Bay had a maturity way past his.

  “From the moment I saw you, Bay, my world changed,” Gabe quietly admitted.

  Her eyes widened for a moment, her lips parted. There, he’d said it. Now she knew without a doubt that what they were both feeling was mutual.