Eye of the Beholder

by Ingrid Weaver

  A draft of cool air rolled across her back. A towel settled over her shoulders. She was so empty, she made no protest as the doctor helped her to her feet and slipped her arms through a robe like a child. Her eyes felt swollen from the tears that continued to trickle down her cheeks. She didn’t bother to wipe them away.

  “Come on, Glenna.” Dr. Colbert put her hand under Glenna’s elbow and steered her through the bathroom doorway. She led her into the private hospital room where she’d been brought shortly after her arrival on the base. “I have a surprise for you.”

  Glenna lifted her head. “Rafe?”

  “No, Sergeant Marek has other duties to take care of right now. He’ll be here soon. Look what’s on the bed.”

  She turned. A dark green suitcase lay in the center of the narrow mattress. For a minute she couldn’t grasp what it was. It was something from another reality.

  The doctor led her forward and reached out to open the lid.

  Glenna stared blankly at the neatly folded clothes inside. It took her another minute before she realized they were hers.

  A piece of her life drifted into the emptiness inside her. It hovered out of reach for a confused moment, then slowly settled into place.

  “I pulled a few strings and got your luggage sent here when I heard you were on your way,” Dr. Colbert said. “I thought you’d be more comfortable in your own clothes. Would you like some coffee while you dress? I brought you a pot of my favorite blend. Personally, I don’t start to feel human until I have at least two cups. What about you?”

  Gradually Glenna become aware of the aroma that floated through the room. It was from another reality, too. The reality of alarm clocks and morning papers. It snicked into place, lending more structure to the emptiness. She exhaled shakily and cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, Glenna. Do you normally fix your hair before you get dressed or after?”

  She raised her hand to her hair. She hadn’t used a comb in five days. Her fingers could barely penetrate the tangles. She looked at the quilted cosmetics bag that she’d packed along the left side of her suitcase. “Uh, it needs…”

  “Conditioner?” the doctor asked. She handed the cosmetics bag to Glenna. “Did you pack any in here?”

  The texture of the bag was something else familiar. She opened the zipper and focused on the orderly array of items within. The pieces of reality were cascading now, rushing in to fill the void the past five days had left. Glenna clutched the bag to her chest and picked up the blouse that was on top of the folded clothes.

  “Oh, that color would look wonderful with your auburn hair,” Dr. Colbert said. “W like to wear pants or a skirt with it?”

  The questions were easy. They were the mundane details that had made up Glenna’s life before Rafe. They gave her something to hang on to, something that didn’t slip through her fingers like the suds on the shower floor.

  Another wave of tears struck without warning. Glenna looked at the doctor.

  Dr. Colbert was half a head shorter than Glenna and comfortably plump. She carried the lines of middle age as easily as the smattering of freckles on her small nose. Unlike the other people Glenna had met so far, she wasn’t wearing a uniform. The flowered dress she wore reminded Glenna of a librarian or a teacher, not the severely attired psychiatrists she’d dealt with during her mother’s therapy.

  Still, Glenna had known immediately that Dr. Colbert was a psychiatrist. She hadn’t wanted to talk to her earlier. She’d been waiting for Rafe to come and make everything all right…

  “What’s wrong with me, Dr. Colbert?” she asked. “Why can’t I stop crying?”

  The doctor smiled and rubbed her shoulder. “You’re having a perfectly normal reaction to stress, Glenna.”

  You’re reacting to the stress.

  That’s what Rafe had said in the storeroom when she’d tried to move his hands to her breasts.

  You’re under stress. You’re using this attraction between us to escape from reality.

  That’s what he’d said yesterday when she’d wanted him to make love again.

  She’d been sure he was wrong. She’d been convinced her feelings for him were real.

  But those five days with Rafe weren’t reality. This was. She wiped her cheeks on the robe’s collar.

  “Do you take cream or sugar in your coffee?”

  Another easy question. Glenna replied automatically. “Just cream.”

  The doctor’s heels clicked across the floor. There was the sound of liquid gurgling into a cup. “After a particularly dangerous mission, even experienced soldiers sometimes have trouble getting back into their daily routine, Glenna. Being in the field involves long stretches of very intense emotions, and it can be difficult to turn them off.”

  “Turn them off,” she repeated. “Push them back into the bottle.”

  “Yes, that’s a good way to put it. I’m here to help.”

  Glenna slipped her hand around the coffee cup. “Where’s Rafe? Did anyone look at his wound?”

  “Yes, the doctors saw Sergeant Marek. He’s going to be fine.”

  “I’d like to see him.”

  “Of course. It’s understandable that you’d want to thank him and the entire team who brought you home. You must be tremendously grateful to all of them for saving your life.I don’t want your gratitude, Glenna.

  It’s more than gratitude I feel for you, Rafe.

  And it was more, she thought. It was love, right?

  Then why was she crying? Why did she feel as if she’d lost something precious? Why hadn’t she wanted to come home?

  Why? Maybe it was because Rafe had warned her this would happen.

  And she didn’t want to discover that he had been right.

  Chapter 9

  Rafe couldn’t remember feeling this nervous before. He could handle multimillion dollar pieces of machinery without breaking a sweat. He could do a night jump in enemy territory after a meal of steak and potatoes and not feel a twinge of queasiness. Yet every step he took down this hospital corridor echoed through his nerves as if he were on a double-time march to hell.

  The shrink had requested that he stay away from Glenna for a few days. He knew why. Dr. Colbert was an experienced trauma counselor. She’d be helping Glenna find a way to deal with what had happened and put it behind her. She would be encouraging her to distance herself from the events of the past week in order to guide her back to everyday life.

  And Rafe had no place in Glenna’s everyday life. He’d known that from the start. But it had been more than two days now. He had to see her before she was released. Whatever the shrink said, one more conversation couldn’t do any more damage than he’d already done.

  “Sergeant Marek!”

  The woman’s voice came from behind him. He recognized the smoky timbre and paused to look over his shoulder.

  Sarah Fox was striding toward him from the elevator. As always, her captain’s uniform was neatly pressed and her shoes gleamed from a fresh polishing. She covered the distance with a deceptively quick stride, dropping the formality dictated by her rank the moment she reached him. “You’re a difficult guy to track down, Rafe. Where have you been?”

  “Getting debriefed by the major.”

  “Ah.” She fell into step beside him as he resumed his progress. “Does Major Redinger have any word on when we’re going after Juarez?”

  “Not yet. Soon, I hope. By the way, Flynn told me about the work you did with the surveillance satellites. Good job.”

  “Thanks. Like I said, you’re a difficult guy to track down.” She tipped her head to watch him as he walked. “You’re limping. I heard you were shot.”

  “The bullet passed through.”

  “Is that why you’re here? Are you going for treatment?”

  “No. The medics already looked at it. They monitored me overnight and gave me some antibiotics to clear up what was left of the infection

  “I heard you could have lost your leg if you h
adn’t lanced the wound when you did. That was some creative field doctoring.”

  “So much for medical confidentiality.”

  “I have my ways, Rafe. Be honest. How does the leg feel?”

  “Better than it was.”

  She moved in front of him. “And what did the medics really say?”

  He halted so that he wouldn’t run into her. “They want to do some repair work.”

  “Is it serious?”

  “They’re mainly concerned that if they don’t intervene, I’ll be left with an unsightly scar.”

  Sarah blinked, then let loose a sudden laugh. “Oh, that’s a good one.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “What do you think?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “I think I don’t want to get anywhere near you when you’re armed with a knife.” Her amusement faded. “So where are you headed?”

  He looked away. “Just visiting someone.”

  “The Hastings woman?”

  Rafe didn’t have a little sister, but if he did, he imagined she would have been a lot like Sarah. Inquisitive, no-nonsense, and protective as a mother hen when it came to all the men of Eagle Squadron she regarded as her brothers. “Sounds as if you already figured it out,” he muttered.

  “The fresh shave and the cologne were my first clues. It looks as if you got your hair trimmed, too.”

  “She’s an exceptional woman, Sarah. She saved my life. I was out of my head for more than a day with that fever and she stuck with me.”

  “Then you’re even. You saved her life.”

  “That was my job.”

  “I heard you spent most of the trip back from Rocama checking to make sure she was comfortable. Was that your job, too?”

  “Flynn has a big mouth.”

  “So what’s really going on?”

  “Nothing. Back off, Sarah.”

  She wasn’t discouraged in the least by his bluster. She stepped closer and drew herself up to her full height. Her head barely reached Rafe’s chin, but she had the kind of presence that made her seem taller than she was. “There was one satellite shot I didn’t show to the team, Rafe. We’d zeroed in on your position by then, so it was high resolution. Maximum detail. So don’t tell me it’s nothing.”

  Oh, hell. He’d been afraid of that. “Whatever you think you saw, you interpreted it wrong.”

  “I thought I had, too, until I heard about how you’ve been acting since then. Incidentally, that’s nice cologne. Funny, in all the years I’ve known you, I can’t remember noticing you wearing any while you were on duty before. Did you put it on for the major’s benefit?”

  “What’s your point?”

  “Be careful with this Hastings woman, okay? We’ve all had the psych training. It was a hostage situation and things likely got pretty intense, but those feelings don’t last.”

  He told himself that Sarah was only trying to be his friend. She was looking out for him. He would do the same for her, if the situation ever came up. It wouldn’t, though. Sarah Fox made no secret of the fact that her heart wasn’t available.

  And his heart was? No. What had happened between him and Glenna hadn’t involved that part of his anatomy, no matter how she had tried to confuse the issue. “You forget who you’re talking to,” he said. “I’ve never had any illusions about what women want from me.”

  Her eyebrows drew together in a quick frown as she glanced at his cheek. “Oh, yes you do, but that’s a whole different topic.”

  “I’ve got to go.”

  She put her hand on his arm before he could move away. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, Rafe.”

  “Sarah…”

  “You seem to care about her, but once she goes back to her life in New York—”

  “Dammit, Sarah, I don’t need a lecture. Glenna Hastings was part of the mission, that’s all. She was no more and no less important than any of the other hostages we rescued. Now the mission’s over. End of story. End of discussion.”

  She squeezed his arm. “I’m not hard-of-hearing, Rafe.”

  He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but there was always the chance that if he repeated the same thing loud enough and often enough, he might convince himself. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  Sarah looked past him and dropped her hand.

  Rafe felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. His palms began to sweat. He turned around.

  For an instant, he didn’t recognize the woman who stood in the doorway of the room across the corridor. Her auburn hair was tamed into a smooth French twist at the back of her head. Tasteful pearl earrings gleamed at her earlobes. Her pale green blouse and loosely cut pants flowed over her body with the supple elegance of designer silk.

  Yet it wasn’t the clothes and the hair that threw him off. It was her expression.

  The complete trust that he’d become accustomed to seeing in her eyes was gone. So was the clear glow that she’d called love. In its place was wariness. She looked from him to Sarah and back again. “Hello, Rafe.”

  Her tone was as cautious as her gaze. Not cold but…cordial. Yes, that was it. She said his name as if he were an acquaintance. She looked at him as if she had never seen him naked.

  This wasn’t the woman who had sobbed in his arms and who had brushed butterfly kisses over his scars. The passion shared so generously with him had to still be there—it was as much a part of her as her green eyes—but it was under control now. Semtex without a primer. Anyone looking at her would see a sophisticated, poised lady. The kind who traveled first-class. The person Glenna Hastings Vanderhayden had been last week.

  Evidently, Dr. Colbert had done her job well.

  This had been inevitable. Rafe knew that. But that didn’t stop him from hating it.

  And for a crazy instant, he wanted to rip out her hairpins and plunge his fingers into her curls until her hair was an untamed halo around her head. He ached to press himself to her body and feel her mouth tremble under his. To hell with the shrinks and the psych manuals and doing what was right. He wanted to turn her back into his Glenna.

  Damn, he’d known this was going to be painful. He hadn’t realized how much. He should have scheduled a few sessions with Dr. Colbert for himself. He dried his palms on his pant legs. “Hello, Glenna.”

  His voice brought it all back. Glenna had believed she was making progress. She had only cried twice today. She’d even been able to control the shaking of her hands enough to do her nails.

  But all she had to do was hear his voice and she wanted to throw herself into his arms and weep.

  The books she’d borrowed from Dr. Colbert had explained all of this. The psychological effects of captivity were well documented. She had been dependent on Rafe for the necessities of life, and he had taken on a heroic stature in her mind. In her exhausted state, her gratitude had become infatuation. Her desperation had been channeled into passion. And she’d mistaken that passion for love.

  All in all, she was a textbook case.

  It was humiliating. It was pathetic.

  But oh, God, she wanted to hold him. One last time. It didn’t matter to her that he’d just stated flat out she’d meant nothing to him. If he so much as crooked his finger at her, she’d be all over him in a heartbeat.

  “Miss Hastings?”

  Glenna looked at the uniformed woman who stood beside Rafe. “Yes?”

  “I’m Captain Fox. I work with Master Sergeant Marek and Eagle Squadron. We’re all pleased the mission ended successfully.” She smiled pleasantly, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. She extended her hand. “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better, thanks.” Glenna took a closer look at her as she shook her hand. The trim, blond woman seemed familiar somehow. Suddenly it struck her why. “You’re a doctor, aren’t you? Last week you drove that ambulance to the plane. You wanted to help the pilot.”

  “I did, but I’m not a doctor. I was a distraction who went along for the ride since I happened t
o speak the local Rocaman dialect.” She held Glenna’s gaze, as if she were studying her in turn. “I’m surprised you remember. Many people in your situation prefer to block out traumatic events.”

  “Yes, I read about that.”

  “Oh?”

  “has been very helpful. I’ve learned quite a bit about trauma psychology.”

  Captain Fox glanced at Rafe. “That’s good, isn’t it, Sergeant Marek? We were just discussing that.”

  A muscle in the side of his jaw twitched. “How’s your ankle, Glenna?”

  If she told him it hurt, would he sweep her into his arms? “Almost as good as new.”

  “And the abrasions?”

  If she told him her shoulders were still sore from the bark of the tree he’d held her against before the helicopter had showed up, would he want to finish what they’d started? “Healing well, thank you.”

  “Good.”

  “How’s your leg?” Did he remember how she had wiped his tears while he’d dreamed about John? Did he think about how well their bodies had fit together?

  “Fine.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  “I imagine you must be eager to go home, Miss Hastings,” Captain Fox said. “Your life in Manhattan must be very different from what you’ve experienced this past week. When will you be discharged?”

  “I just was,” Glenna replied, keeping her gaze on Rafe. “I’ll be taking the Amtrak to New York in forty minutes.”

  He rubbed his palms against his legs again and nodded to the room behind her. “Before you go, Glenna, I’d like to speak with you. In private, if you don’t mind, Captain,” he added to the blond woman beside him.

  Captain Fox nodded curtly. “Nice meeting you, Miss Hastings. I’ll speak with you later, Sergeant Marek.”

  The moment she and Rafe were alone in the hospital room, Glenna felt her pulse go wild. Adrenaline rushed through her body. Oh, Rafe, please tell me it was real. Tell me that you and the books and the doctors were wrong. Take me in your arms and ask me to stay….

  He stood with his feet shoulder-width apart and clasped his hands behind his back. “Glenna, I would like to apologize once more for my conduct.”