He leaned against the railing, resting on one elbow. “Yeah. Another two weeks and that should pretty well do it.”
Heaviness filled her chest. Was he still planning to leave? She couldn’t bring herself to ask. Just the thought left a big hole in her heart.
He turned away from the railing and extended his arm, palm up. After placing her hand in his, she let him lead her down the wooden stairs. At the bottom, concrete steps led up away from the pool area. When they reached the top, he turned right and headed toward the picnic area.
He squeezed her hand. “Tell me what else you did after I left.”
She smiled. She’d already told him several stories from her later teenage years. “I can’t think of anything else.”
“Tell me about your first real boyfriend.”
She looked at him askance. “I thought you didn’t like war stories.”
“I like hearing other people’s war stories.”
“I have quite a few.” More than she wanted to admit. “I seem to attract the users and the losers.” When Peter came along, she thought she’d broken the pattern. He was attentive, romantic, good-looking and successful. But two other adjectives had been lacking—honest and law-abiding.
“My first real boyfriend was Junior. His idea of a romantic date was taking me to his friend’s house so I could watch them play video games. Fortunately, his friend also had a girlfriend who was as bored as I was. One night, we both got tired of competing with Halo and gave up. She called her brother to come and get us. That was the end of Junior and me.”
“Sounds like he needed to grow up.”
“Yeah. I’m afraid that describes too many of the guys I’ve dated.”
Tyler took a seat at one of the picnic tables, and she sat next to him. A small playground lay a few yards in front of them. Both swings were occupied, and four other children slid down green plastic slides. Midway between the playground and a pavilion, two adolescent boys stood talking, kicking pine needles and stray pieces of mulch.
Nicki angled her face toward Tyler and rested her chin in her hand. “Okay, now it’s your turn. Tell me about your first crush.”
“That’s easy. My first crush was a scrappy eighth grader who always had a chip on her shoulder and would never back down from a fight, especially if her best friend was the one being threatened.” He grinned and gave her a gentle nudge in the ribs with his elbow.
She elbowed him back. “Hey, I’m being serious. Tell me about your first girlfriend.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t have much time for dating. As soon as I turned sixteen, I got a job after school working at a local fast-food place. When school let out, I went to work with a friend. His dad owned a small construction company.”
Nicki studied him as he spoke. But he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he faced straight ahead, his eyes taking in the activity on the playground and scanning the woods beyond. An underlying tension flowed through his body, a ready alertness.
She was used to it. The only time he seemed truly relaxed was inside Andy and Joan’s home, with the doors locked and the blinds drawn.
He continued, his gaze shifting to the right, where the two boys she’d observed earlier appeared to be trying out some pseudo karate moves on each other.
“My friend’s dad didn’t let me run the power tools. Maybe he wasn’t allowed to, since I was underage. But he taught me a lot. I worked with him two summers.”
“Then you joined the Army.”
He nodded, his attention still focused on the boys. “But not till October. I was supposed to start college in the fall, but Mom’s cancer had spread, so I stayed with her.”
Some distance away, the shorter boy kicked at his taller friend, who grasped his foot and flipped him onto his back. Tyler stiffened and sat up straighter.
“I’m glad you got the time with her.”
“We were able to keep her at home until...” His voice trailed off.
“Tyler?” She followed his gaze to where the boys were tussling. The larger one pressed his friend’s shoulders to the ground, then straddled him.
Tyler shot to his feet, stepped over the bench and stalked that direction.
“Tyler!”
She stood and followed him, shouting his name again. But he marched straight ahead, picking up his pace. He took the final few yards at a jog.
Before she could stop him, he grasped the taller boy by the shoulders and threw him aside, then stood over him glaring, fists clenched. Both boys sat up and scooted backward, eyes filled with fear. He took another step, closing the gap between them.
“Tyler, stop! They’re just playing.” Her voice was loud and shrill. If she didn’t stop him, he was going to hurt one of them.
He took another step. Both boys scrambled to their feet and took off in a spray of sand. Tyler stared after them as if unsure what to do. She ran in front of him, grasped his arms and shook him.
Finally the wildness left his eyes. He twisted free of her grasp, spun and walked back the way they’d come at such a brisk pace, she had to run to keep up with him. He jogged down the steps toward the spring, taking them two at a time, but instead of continuing to the water’s edge, he made a sharp right and headed down the boardwalk. His pace slowed to a brisk walk, and she moved up beside him.
“What happened back there?”
He kept walking, eyes straight ahead, jaw tight.
She grasped his arm. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Again he shook himself loose from her grasp. For another minute, they walked in silence. Cypress trees rose all around them, shading them from the afternoon sun. Hundreds of cypress knees protruded from the ground beneath, ranging in size from a few inches to five or six feet. The setting was almost magical. But she knew Tyler wasn’t seeing any of it.
She heaved a sigh. Keeping everything buried inside couldn’t be good for him. But getting him to open up seemed almost impossible. He refused to discuss any of his experiences in Afghanistan.
She glanced over at him. “Tyler, stop. Tell me what’s going on.”
He didn’t slow down, and he didn’t look at her. His features were set in stubbornness, his fists clenched.
She bit her lower lip. Soon he’d have to stop. He wouldn’t have a choice. Up ahead, the boardwalk ended in a square, covered area overlooking the river. Two couples stood there taking pictures with their phones. As she and Tyler grew closer, the women glanced their way, and the four of them began to move back down the boardwalk.
Tyler stepped under the structure and stopped at the end, hands clutching the wooden railing. Several more moments passed in silence.
She put a hand on his upper arm. “Tyler, please talk to me.”
His muscle twitched under her palm, but he didn’t jerk away from her. His eyes held a steely hardness. “I’m all right.”
“No, you’re not. If I hadn’t stopped you, you might have hurt one of those boys.”
“I was breaking it up. I thought the bigger boy was attacking the smaller one.”
“They were playing.”
His gaze dropped to the water below. “I know that now.”
“And everyone else knew it then. There was never any doubt in anyone’s mind except yours.”
He allowed her to turn him away from the rail, and she took his hands in hers.
“Anywhere we go, you look as if you expect to be attacked at any moment. You’re always assessing your surroundings, looking for threats. I thought it had to do with me and all the things that have been going on in my life. But that’s not right, is it? It started long before you came to Cedar Key.”
His hands tightened around hers, but he didn’t respond.
“Talk to me, Tyler.”
He shook his head. “You don’t want to hear this.”
�
��If I didn’t want to hear it, I wouldn’t be asking. Come on, Tyler. Talk to me. We used to tell each other everything. If anyone can understand what you’re feeling, it’s me.”
She released his hands and raised her arms to rest both palms against the sides of his face. “What happened over there?” She was no longer talking about the playground. Instead, her thoughts were focused halfway across the world. Judging from the distant look in his eyes, his likely were, too. “Tell me what happened that sent you home.”
For some time, a silent battle ensued. Then all the tension flowed out of him, and he released a heavy sigh.
“It was our last mission. We were all shipping home the following week. That day, there was a meeting planned with community leaders in a nearby village. I was tasked with route clearance. We go ahead of the command representatives and secure the route, looking for IEDs and ambush sites. These meetings are usually held in the home of one of the leaders, and we go in and make sure there are no booby traps, look for security vantage points and so on.”
He released her hands and turned back to the rail, resting his palms on its surface. “There were six of us. We loaded into two MRAPs. I was with Marty and Steve. We were all talking about what we were going to do when we got stateside, who’d be running onto the field to greet us.”
He smiled down at her, but there was sadness behind the expression. “The deployment homecoming ceremony is a big deal. The whole unit goes home together, so there are around eight hundred of us. The families are all in the bleachers, holding signs and banners welcoming us home. We’d been downrange for just shy of twelve months, so there was going to be a lot of excitement and emotion. Marty had a wife and a four-month-old baby. Steve was making plans to propose to his high school sweetheart.”
He fell silent, and she didn’t prod him to continue. He’d finish his story when he was ready. She laid her hand over his and curled her fingers into his palm. Finally he continued.
“Everything was fine. There were no problems en route. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary going in. Then Taliban forces fired the first mortar round into the building, and the rugs and furnishings caught fire. More rounds followed, and this whole time, the enemy kept a steady barrage of AK-47 fire coming at us. That pretty well kept us pinned. I radioed the perimeter squad, but it seemed to take them forever to subdue the enemy.”
He closed his eyes. “Marty and Steve were down after the first mortar round. Pretty soon, both of them were engulfed in flames.” His hand tightened around her fingers, his other one clenching into a fist. “I listened to their screams as they burned to death, but I couldn’t get to them. I tried. The explosion of another mortar round knocked me backward. Then the roof caved in on me.”
“What about your other men?”
“Gone, every one of them. One took a mortar round and was killed instantly. Two others were taken out by small arms fire.” He pushed away from the rail to sink onto the nearby bench, then put his head in his hands. “Every one of them had so much to live for—girlfriends, wives, children. All they had to do was make it through one final mission. They didn’t and I did.” He lifted his head to look at her. “How is that fair? I had no one, just Andy and Joan and my sister, Bridgett. So why did I come home when none of the others did?”
She sat next to him. “It wasn’t your time yet.”
“And it was theirs? Marty with a four-month-old baby who is never going to know her father? Steve at twenty-one, who hardly even got to taste adulthood? You’re telling me it was their time? How?”
“Some things we just have to accept, because trying to find an explanation will make us crazy.”
He pulled his hand from hers and rose to his feet. “I can’t accept it. And I never will. I keep imagining Marty lying there with a hole in his belly, Steve with his leg blown off. Flames swallowing both of them.” He shook his head. “When I was watching your house burn, I was back there in that kalat, listening to their screams.”
She closed her eyes, her heart twisting in her chest. He’d experienced unimaginable horrors, and now, when it should be over, he was reliving them again and again. As a teenager, he’d been tormented. And she’d known what to do. Often just her presence and a listening ear would soothe his troubled heart.
That was nothing compared to this. He’d seen things no one should have to witness. And they’d scarred him. Maybe permanently.
She wrapped her arms around him, offering comfort in the only way she knew. “I want to help you. I just need you to tell me how.”
His arms circled her waist, then tightened around her, and he buried his face in her hair.
“You were always there for me.” His words were muffled against the side of her neck, his breath warm.
“We were there for each other.” And more than once over the years, she’d missed it desperately.
He stepped back to meet her gaze. “We were crazy to let that go.”
She nodded, ready to agree with his statement. But the words stuck in her throat. His eyes were warm, raw emotion swimming in their depths. Her stomach rolled over, and all the oxygen seemed to exit her lungs, leaving her breathless.
She’d hugged him numerous times in the past. And other times, he’d watched her without saying a word.
This was different.
The way he was looking at her wasn’t how a friend looks at a friend. The intensity in his eyes said a whole lot more.
Before she had a chance to ponder it further, he leaned closer. A bolt of panic shot through her, followed by calm. Because whatever he was feeling, she felt it, too.
The next moment, his mouth slanted across hers. Sensation burst across her consciousness, bright and hot, searing a path to her heart. This wasn’t the boy she’d known fifteen years earlier. This was Tyler now—one hundred percent man. Capable of setting her pulse racing with a single kiss.
But in many ways, he was the same. The same caring person who felt deeply and bore scars as a result. The one who could read her moods and instinctively know what she needed most.
Her best friend in all the world.
She stiffened and backed away. If they allowed their friendship to become anything more, there would be no turning back. Eventually their relationship would end. Her track record had proved that. His wasn’t much better. He was as damaged as she was. When everything fell apart, there would no longer be any friendship to fall back on.
“What’s wrong?” Concern filled his eyes.
She stepped out of his arms, letting her hands fall from his neck. “You’re my best friend. I’m not willing to throw that away for a brief fling.”
Hurt pushed aside the concern. “Why would it have to be just a brief fling?”
“Because good things don’t last. You know it as well as I do. This is one season of your life. It’ll pass and you’ll be off on your next adventure.”
For several moments, he stood silent and still. Then he gave her a sharp nod and started back down the boardwalk.
She fell in behind him, disappointment swirling inside her. She’d halfway hoped he’d argue with her, tell her that they could make it work, that they’d overcome all the obstacles together.
But he hadn’t, because he knew she was right.
ELEVEN
Tyler held the two-by-eight joist in place and swung the hammer, the sharp thuds piercing the tranquility of the summer day. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. The bandanna did a pretty good job of keeping it out of his eyes, but within an hour of starting work in the summer heat and humidity, his shirt was usually soaked and plastered to his chest.
Especially when he was working like this.
He removed another twelve-penny nail from his pouch. After three good whacks, it was flush.
“You know, we have air tools for that.”
Tyler cast a glance at Andy
over his shoulder. He was sitting on a camp chair in the shade of a tree, a glass of iced tea in one hand and two of Joan’s oatmeal cookies in the other. The open thermos still sat on the ground in front of him. Thirty minutes ago, it had held homemade vegetable beef stew. Now it was empty, every last savory drop scraped from the wide mouth. Tyler’s own thermos was in the same condition. When it finally came time to leave Cedar Key, he was going to miss Joan’s cooking.
That wasn’t all he was going to miss. Reconnecting with Nicki had been a bonus he hadn’t anticipated. Or yet another means of torture.
Especially now that he’d kissed her.
During most of their two-year friendship, he’d longed for more, had wondered what it would be like to hold her with more than the comforting hug of a friend, had dreamed of kisses in the moonlight.
The actual experience was so much sweeter than all those childhood fantasies. And he was having a hard time getting it out of his mind.
He pounded in several more nails, then stood back to survey his work.
“You think the deck is going to last longer if you build it by the sweat of your brow?”
Tyler ignored his brother’s taunt. The deck wouldn’t last longer, but swinging a hammer was a great way to work out some of his pent-up frustration.
Andy screwed the lid on the thermos and, after dropping everything into the lunch tote, ambled toward the unfinished deck.
“Now that you’ve spent the last ten minutes beating the deck half to death, you want to talk about what’s ailing you?”
“Nothing’s bothering me. I’m fine.” He wasn’t about to discuss his woman woes with his brother. Or anyone else, for that matter.
Andy planted both hands on his hips. “I think my pretty neighbor has been getting under your skin the past few weeks.”
Yeah, he had that right. He was just wrong about when. Nicki had gotten under his skin fifteen years ago. Now she was there again.
Or maybe that was where she’d been all along.
He’d always had all kinds of excuses for avoiding serious relationships—too little time to date because he was working and caring for his mom, the transient military lifestyle with its lengthy deployments, the nightmares and flashbacks that regularly plagued him.
Buried Memories Page 14