by Dianne Drake
“And there you have your answer,” Carter said, then backed away, grabbed up his shirt, put it on and headed for the door. Maybe he’d have an early breakfast, or simply take a walk. Either way, it was better than what he was going through in his room—his isolated, cockroach-ridden little room.
Who was it that said something about how, if you loved something, you should set it free? He didn’t remember the entirety of the quotation, but he did understand the drift of it. Since he loved Sloane, and he wasn’t good for her, it was time to let go.
“Damn,” Carter said, heading to his motorcycle.
Why did it always have to be so difficult? Why did his feelings for her make him ache so badly?
Because what he wanted, and what he got to have, were two entirely separate things. That’s why.
Shuffle your thoughts, Carter warned himself. It was a tip he’d picked up from his counselor on what to do when he knew he was getting too close to his anxiety limit. Think of something else. Redirect his attention.
Which is what he did now. He pulled out his phone and looked at his calendar for the day. Six patients scheduled in the office this morning, and two outside. Not bad, he thought. The only problem was, he had two hours before anybody in Forgeburn stirred. Which meant he had time to kill, and empty time was his worst enemy.
As often as not, when he wasn’t occupied, the whole overthinking process would start, then something he didn’t want to think would squeeze its way in and eventually take over.
Sighing, he was feeling his lack-of-sleep hangover. Thankfully, his back spasms had let up, which was a good thing, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to climb on his bike and head over to the Red Rock Inn for a morning coffee and a cloak-and-dagger glimpse of Sloane. But, by the time he got there, and found a seat at the counter in the hotel’s all-night diner, it was too late. Sloane had beaten him there, she was right by the entrance where she couldn’t miss him. And, she didn’t.
“You up early, or haven’t you gone to bed?” she asked him, heading to the counter to order a latte rather than taking a seat next to him in the blue and brown-striped banquette that ran the length of the tiny diner.
“A little of both, I suppose. If you don’t sleep all night, then it only serves to reason that you’re getting up early.”
Sloane was too bright-eyed from her overnight expedition. Too animated.
“Did you have a good time?” he asked her, even though the look on her face told him she’d loved every minute of it. Why did he have to know her so well?
“There were three of us, plus the guide, and we got into some really nice areas. We heard coyotes. We didn’t get close enough to disturb them, but we could see the glow of their eyes. The air and the ground temperature were cool, which was nice, since we covered nearly ten miles. And there were so many different little night creatures out there: mammals, birds, insects that hide during the day. Oh, and the reptiles—there were so many of them scattered around, looking for a rock that still maintained some daytime heat. When they got warm enough they went off in search of a meal... It was absolutely breathtaking how much goes on in the more remote areas at night. I’m hoping I got some good photos, because we encountered an enormous variety of nocturnal life—like snakes, skunks, scorpions, kangaroo rats, jack rabbits, owls, and even a bobcat.”
“You weren’t in any danger, were you?” Carter asked.
Even though she’d been with other people, he worried because he knew what Sloane was like. She got excited, and ignored everything but what she was focused on. Like the time he’d taught her how to mountain bike. She’d taken three detours into the dirt because she had been so distracted by how she pedaled, she’d forgotten to watch where she pedaled. Eventually, it always came together, but in the new undertakings in her life, Sloane’s excitement too often overshadowed her abilities. So, yes, he worried. He always worried about her. He couldn’t help himself.
“No. Our guide gave us some basic rules to follow and told us if we didn’t do exactly what he said we’d have to go back to the resort.” Sloane paused for breath, then continued, the flush of excitement still rosy on her cheeks. “I wish you could have been there, Carter. You would have loved it.”
“Maybe next time,” he said, even though he knew there wouldn’t be a next time.
“You look...terrible,” Sloane said, in her usual morning-perky voice.
She had always been a morning person. He’d been the one who’d thought the only reason to have a morning was to sleep through it.
“You don’t like the new look?” Carter said, looking down to check that he’d put on fresh clothes after his shower, since he’d been too groggy to really notice. Luckily he was good. Or at least his clothes were.
“What I don’t like is the way you look, and it has nothing to do with your clothes.”
“Being tired will do that to you.”
He watched her pick up her to-go latte, then walk over to his table. She was hesitant, like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be involved with him this early or would rather put it off until later. Or, never.
“Which is why I’m going into my office early, hoping I can grab some sleep before I start seeing patients.”
“Later, I’d like to show you something.”
He raised a weary, yet very wicked eyebrow.
“Really?”
Sloane laughed.
“Not that. But earlier, up on Flat Top—it’s a rock formation rock formation we came through a little while ago—there was a herd of desert bighorn sheep emerging, but we didn’t have time to stop and take pictures so I thought if you had some free time maybe we could go up there together. The hike’s not very impressive considering where we used to go, but the view... I can see why you like Forgeburn. If I weren’t so city I might move here just for the view”
She held up her camera, then asked. “Want to come with me?”
“Right after lunch?” he asked, surprised, yet pleased, she’d asked him. “Unless there’s an emergency, my afternoon is free.”
Her smile was so big and bright he couldn’t turn her down. Never had been able to, when she looked at him that way.
“So how far is this Flat Top?”
“Just a couple of miles. The hiking trail is a little advanced, for most of the people here, but the guide said there were a couple of rough ones in the area, so I’m hoping to see what they’re about. Maybe you’d like to hike along with me for that, as well.”
Hiking was one of the many things they’d been good at. Hiking someplace out of the way, finding a secluded spot, making love in the open air. That had been very good, as well.
“Just let me know when you want to go, and if I’m free...”
He shrugged. This was a dangerous idea. Too many reminders. Too much of their past inching back in. But before his illness, he’d never been able to say ‘no’ to Sloane and, apparently, that was also inching back in, as well.
* * *
Carter seemed rested, but restless. Sloane could tell from the way he lagged back. And sure, asking him to come with her probably wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had. But she’d remembered the way they used to get so excited when they discovered something new in their journeys, and before she knew it, the invitation had slipped out. So here they were, looking for sheep, and Carter had barely spoken a word since they’d left the hotel. Getting some sleep might have improved his physical condition, but his mind wasn’t here.
“You OK?” she finally asked, after they had hiked almost a mile in silence.
“Just weighing some options. Nothing to worry about.”
“Anything you want to tell me?” she asked, as they stopped for a few minutes to have some water and a regroup.
“Not really. I was thinking ahead to what life is going to be like living here.”
“And...?”
“And I think it’
s going to be good. I’m not sure I’m meant to live in the city anymore. It’s too—confining.”
“Is that your PTSD talking, or you?”
“A little of both, I suppose. My PTSD put me in the position to find something new, and I like what I’ve found. Sometimes isolation is good.”
“But do you want to stay this isolated for the rest of your life?”
“What I want for the rest of my life is to be able to count on myself, and if I can do that here, in the desert, this is where I want to be.”
For a city girl, Sloane had been surprised how much she had enjoyed the desert, too. It was something she could get used to, but so far Carter had made no mention of her staying here. She had listened to him very closely, hoping to hear something that would encourage her, but every time he had got near something that sounded like the possibility of hope for them, he had backed away from it. Maybe that was for the best, though, as she was changing, just like he was, and maybe the person she’d turn into wouldn’t be the woman who had once loved him to distraction. She hoped that wasn’t the case, but she couldn’t count it out.
“It’s a good place, and if it’s what you need, I’m happy for you.”
But not for herself as, now, Sloane was facing the same dilemma he was. Where was she supposed to be, and was it with, or without Carter?
As they approached the narrowing of the trail she spotted a little Gila monster, out sunning itself on a rock. It was watching them warily, probably not wanting to give up its place in the sun. She didn’t blame the creature. The sun here was glorious. And the air so clean, and the sky so blue. Normally, she didn’t notice these things, but now that she had, she wondered if it had something to do with what could be emerging as a desire to stay here with Carter? Not that he’d asked her, and not that she expected him to. But still, is that what she wanted? Was her subconscious directing her in a way her consciousness was still resisting?
“They’re venomous,” Carter said. “Beautiful though.”
“But not deadly.”
“It’s a hell of a bite if it gets you. It kind of chews its way into your skin then hangs on for dear life. Leaves you with a neurotoxin that’s going to hurt. The bite area’s going to be afflicted with edema and you’re going to get weak because your blood pressure will drop critically. Just saying...”
“It’s a hell of a bite if you let it bite you. But it’s such a slow mover you’d have to be an idiot not to get out of its path.”
Sloane pointed her camera at the creature, who’d yet to move, and shot several photos. Then she stomped on the ground and laughed as the lazy lizard finally decided to waddle away.
“See how it runs,” she said, looking back at Carter, who was stretched out on a large rock, sunning himself much the way the Gila monster had been. He was breathing a little too hard, she thought. But maybe he still wasn’t in the best of shape.
She snapped some photos of him, then returned to the path.
“You can stay there if you want. But that rattler sneaking up behind you might have some different ideas about what it wants to do with your rock.”
That was all it took for Carter to jump up, then spin around to look for the snake.
“There’s no rattlesnake here,” he said.
“But there could have been.”
They’d always played little jokes on each other. It had been part of the dynamic between them she’d loved. And, while she hadn’t meant to do it, it had come naturally. Sloane didn’t regret it, though, because just for that moment it was nice getting that little piece of them back.
“And you, Sloane Manning, are a wicked woman.”
Carter caught up to her just as the trail narrowed to barely allow one person through and grabbed hold of her. He spun her around to face him. Then smiled.
“Stand back, woman, while I take the lead.”
“For fifty feet,” Sloane said, pointing ahead to a big red rock that definitely had a flat, tabletop appearance. “That’s our destination.”
“And no sheep in sight,” Carter said, squeezing past her.
For that instant, when their bodies pressed together, Sloane held her breath. It felt so good, having him that close. His body squeezed tight to hers. So many memories came flooding back, of all the times when a simple movement like that had started something more.
“Oh, there will be sheep,” she said, practically forcing the words out of her mouth. His effect on her was so strong she was almost dizzy with it.
Carter paused briefly, still pressed to her, and studied her face the way he’d done so many times before. He’d claimed it was because he could read her. Maybe he could. Or maybe he wanted to. Whatever the case, she couldn’t look him in the eye. He might see things he wasn’t meant to. Things she’d put away, or was trying to put away. Things that still hung on. He didn’t need to know any of that. Didn’t have that right any more.
So Sloane looked off to the side, taking great care not to make direct contact lest his siren effect would lure her in. She was already a wreck and she didn’t need to deal with any more of that. Even though she still loved him.
But it was a dangerous love now, because it hurt so much.
“Lead on,” she said finally, squirming away from him.
“We were good, like you said before,” Carter said before he turned back to the trail. “I’m sorry I destroyed it.”
“We both destroyed it,” Sloane said. “You by pushing me away, and me by not recognizing when I needed to step away and let you lick your own wounds.”
She fell into line behind Carter but kept her eyes on the red dirt trail.
“Neither of us got it right.”
He stopped and spun to face her so abruptly she bumped into him.
“You have no blame in this, Sloane. I did what I did because I couldn’t control myself. Not my actions, not my thoughts. That’s where it started, and anything that came after was simply a reaction.”
“I loved you so much, Carter...” Sloane said, and tears started slipping down her cheeks.
Carter brushed them back with his thumb and gently pulled her into his chest.
“I know you did,” he said, so quietly it was barely more than a whisper. “And you were all I thought about while I was in Afghanistan. All I wanted was to come home to you. But I never came home.”
Sloane sniffled, then looked up at Carter. His eyes were so distant. He was staring at—nothing. It was such a sad sight she almost couldn’t bear to look at him.
“Why did you go?” she asked him. “Your career was set. You were getting some amazing offers from hospitals all over the country. Then one day you came home and simply said you’d joined the Army. But you wouldn’t tell me why, except to say it was something you had to do—your patriotic duty. Why did you have to do it, Carter? I have a right to know, since you came back so broken. It was an honorable thing to do, and I was proud of you. But the cost was so high and I never really understood why you broke us apart to do it.”
Carter took Sloane’s hand and pulled her away from the narrow path to an area that opened up into a wide expanse of red rocks and desert plants, then motioned for her to sit down on a rock next to him.
“I never told you because—because I wasn’t sure you’d understand.”
He took hold of her hand and kissed her open palm, the way he’d always done.
“And you’re right. You do have the right to know. It was an obligation I had to fulfill for someone I loved deeply.”
“Another woman?” she asked.
There had been other women in Carter’s past. She knew that and it didn’t bother her, because he’d always been honest about it. But another woman who had the kind of influence it would take to persuade him into joining the Army? And at a time when their first anniversary of being together was coming up?
“Who was she?”
“He. Who was he? And he was my brother. You remember me telling you about James?”
“He died young didn’t he? Cystic fibrosis?”
Carter had never really said much about James and she had always sensed that the loss was still painful, even after all these years. So, she’d never asked him much. At least nothing she’d thought would bring up sad memories for him.
“James was two years younger than me and he was sick. As you know the CF was very progressive with him, and we always knew he wouldn’t be with us for very long. But it never stopped us from including him in all our family activities. He was such a—a vital force. Always happy. Always the one to cheer us up when we were down or worried about him.”
Carter sniffed, then wiped away the tears forming in his eyes.
“One of the things he always talked about was growing up and joining the Army. My dad was a career Army man, and James wanted to be just like him. Of course we knew that wouldn’t happen, but it meant so much to him—especially when Dad would let him wear one of his uniform hats. Anyway, I made a promise to James that I’d become a doctor when I grew up, and then I’d find or invent something to cure him, so he could go in the Army. He believed me. But he was only seven, and most seven-year-old boys look up to their older brothers. The thing was, I truly believed I could save him. But I couldn’t. In my nine-year-old mind after he died, I felt like I’d broken my promise, and I lived with that for years.”
“So you joined the Army for James?” she asked.
“It was all he ever talked about so, yes, I joined the Army for my brother. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I hadn’t.”
“What a beautiful thing to do,” Sloane said. “I wish I’d known.”
“How do you tell someone you’re going to war as a means of atoning for something you promised when you were little more than a baby?”
Carter sniffed again.
“My parents were both gone by the time I enlisted, and I suppose the reason I didn’t tell anybody why was because my parents’ way of coping was to not talk about James, which became my way. We were all so damaged by his death and even though I was young, I think the denials we adopted are what got us through. For me, the denials also helped me cope with my guilt, and while I know it’s not the best way to deal with the loss of someone you love so much, I just did what my parents did, and every day it seemed to get easier, and much farther away.”