Country At Heart

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Country At Heart Page 25

by Mandy Magro


  Dean instantly relaxed, knowing he was in hospital and that he still had both arms and legs. It was a miracle after the ferocity of the blast that he was even alive. He turned to where her voice had come from, the nurse’s friendly face coming into blurry vision, clearer in his right eye. ‘I feel a bit groggy, and a little nauseous …’ He mentally checked his body out, assessing where he felt the most pain. ‘I can’t see out of my left eye, my ears are ringing and my right thigh is burning like hell, but other than that, I think I’m pretty good.’ He gave her a lopsided, half-hearted smile.

  She returned his smile with a gentle squeeze of his hand. ‘You’re smiling … that’s the spirit.’ She put her hand in her pocket and pulled something from it, handing it to him.

  Dean took it from her and his eyes filled with tears again. It was his angel charm. He looked up at her. ‘Thank you, you have no idea how much this means to me.’

  ‘I have a fair idea.’ Her cheery face turned sombre as she looked out the window beyond his bed, as though assessing what to say next. ‘I have some bad news though, Dean. Your comrade, Grant, he didn’t make it. I’m so sorry.’

  Bile rose in Dean’s throat and he tried to swallow it down, the lump of raw emotion making it almost impossible to breathe. Another mate, gone, just like that. Fuck those Taliban bastards! His heart constricted as he held an image of Grant in his mind, while clutching the angel pendant tightly in his hand. ‘Grant didn’t make it? And I did? Why? How? We were standing right beside each other.’

  The nurse shook her head sadly, her mousy-brown hair swishing about her face as she did. ‘I can’t really tell you why, Dean, other than to say I think you have an angel watching over you.’

  Dean stared wide eyed at her, her words hitting him hard, the image of his mother floating in front of him as the bomb went off suddenly making a shitload of sense. Maybe his mother had saved him. The thought warmed his heart.

  He watched as the nurse stood, the chair she’d been sitting on scraping loudly along the cement floor behind her. She patted his arm. ‘I’m going to go and get your doctor, so he can explain everything to you in detail, okay?’

  ‘Okay, but can you stay with me while he does?’ There was something comforting in this woman’s presence, and Dean didn’t want her to go just yet. Being so far away from home, and going through such a terrifying experience, it was nice to have someone he felt close to.

  She tipped her head to the side, her eyebrows scrunching together as her brown eyes filled with compassion. ‘Oh, dear boy, as much as I’d love to, I’ve just worked a twenty-hour shift, so think I better get home for some sleep before my next shift starts, otherwise I’m going to pass out on the job. And then who’s going to look after all you lot?’ She chuckled. ‘But I promise I’ll call in and check on you first thing tomorrow morning, when I get back to work.’

  ‘All right then, I’d appreciate that.’ Dean’s voice was croaky.

  She grinned. ‘That’s settled then, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ She turned to leave, only to spin back around when she reached the doorway. ‘Oh, and I forgot to tell you that I’ve organised any personal belongings you’ve got at Camp Baker to be delivered as soon as possible. I would say the package should arrive in the morning. You’re going to be here a week or so while you recover so I hope you’ve got a laptop or some books to pass the time.’

  ‘Oh, thanks for that. I bet I’ve got loads of emails to catch up on and I have a good book I can finally read while I’m here, so I’ll be right.’

  ‘Excellent, that should keep you out of trouble while you’re here. And the doctor will let you make a phone call home to your family once he’s spoken to you too.’ She gave him the thumbs up and then disappeared.

  Once the doctor had explained all his injuries and left the room, Dean dialled his home number and then clutched the phone to his ear. It only rang once before his father’s voice reached out to him from the other end, making him wish he could fall into his dad’s arms and cry like he did when he was a child and had hurt himself. He’d never felt so alone in all his life.

  ‘Hello, Dad.’ The line was bad, the static making it almost impossible to hear. ‘Dad, can you hear me?’

  ‘Hello, Dean, is that you?’

  Dean could hear Kimmy squealing in the background, asking if it was him on the phone. Was Summer there too? He couldn’t wait to hear her beautiful voice. Competing with the static, Dean raised his voice. ‘Dad, yes, it’s me.’ He choked back a sob, not wanting to upset his dad any more than he already would be.

  Tony exhaled forcefully, as if he’d been holding his breath for an eternity. ‘I’m so happy to hear from you, son. We’ve all been so worried. How are you feeling?’

  Dean forced a chuckle. ‘Like I’ve been hit by a truck and then reversed over again … But don’t worry about me, I’ll be right. The doc says I should be okay to fly home in a week.’

  ‘Yeah, the doctor explained all that to me. I was going to fly over to be with you but he said by the time they got me over there it would almost be time for you to come back home and he was quite adamant that I should stay put here. He also told me the extent of your injuries so you don’t have to play them down to protect me.’ Tony’s voice broke. ‘I’m so sorry you’ve lost sight in your left eye. If I could, I would lose sight in both my eyes just so you could see properly again, Sage.’

  Dean’s reserve broke, and he placed the phone on his chest for a few short moments while he composed himself. His dad was an amazing man; he’d been through hell and back himself and yet still wished he could take his son’s pain away. Placing the receiver back to his ear, he smiled. ‘It sucks not being able to see properly, but at least I still have full sight in my right eye, and I’m alive, and that’s all that matters right now.’ He thought of Grant and his heart squeezed tight. ‘My mate Grant wasn’t as lucky – he died in the explosion.’

  ‘Oh, Dean, I’m so very sorry.’ Tony paused, his voice shaky. ‘I don’t know what I would have done if—’

  Dean cut him off. ‘You don’t need to think about that, Dad. I’m here, alive and basically in one piece …’ He could hear Kim begging for the phone. ‘You better put Kimmy on before she has a hernia. Is Summer there to talk to as well?’

  ‘Summer’s only just left, son, she needed some rest. It’s three in the morning here and I didn’t want her sitting up any longer. Give her a call at home later on. I know she’s dying to talk to you. She’s been worried sick about you too.’

  ‘Will do. Now let me talk to that sister of mine,’ Dean said lightheartedly, masking his disappointment.

  Dean placed his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling as he thought about how his life was going to be back home, at the same time struggling to decipher just how far away the roof was from him. His depth perception was greatly affected by the seventy-percent vision loss in his left eye, caused by the force of the blast. If only he’d left his goggles on, things might have been different. He chuckled cynically. Hindsight was a bitch. He also couldn’t see to the left of him, unless he turned his head around to look with his right eye. This was going to make life very difficult for a while but he would cope, he was just so very thankful he was alive and basically intact. It was a major shock to think he’d never be able to see accurately again, although the doctor had explained that it wouldn’t take too long for him to adjust to his right eye doing most of the work. And the ringing in his ears would eventually subside over the next few days, his eardrums surprisingly having no damage at all. The doctor had also explained that his right thigh would heal fairly quickly, because although the piece of glass that had shot through his leg like a bullet had shattered part of his bone, leaving a few tiny bone fragments that had needed removing, it had luckily missed vital blood vessels and nerves by a mere centimetre. And the minor shrapnel wounds to his arms and legs would heal, given time.

  His injuries were considered bad enough for him to be pardoned from the army for life but they weren’t life th
reatening – he had to be thankful for that. And overall he was just damn lucky to be alive, if guilt-ridden, knowing Grant hadn’t made it. It was Dean who had wanted to go down to the school in the first place, not Grant, and that made it even harder to cope with being spared. But now that he’d been given a second chance at life, he knew he had to give it all that he had and make something of it, Grant would want that, and even though it was going to be a long road to recovery, especially emotionally, having a woman like Summer by his side to live out his days with would make every minute worth living.

  CHAPTER

  25

  The sensation of someone standing beside his bed made Dean flick open his heavy eyes. His body was aching and he’d had the worst night’s sleep. Bright and cheerful, Nurse Bracken grinned back at him while holding out his laptop.

  ‘Good morning, soldier, I come bearing gifts. The rest of your stuff is on its way up, I just thought this would be the most important thing.’

  ‘Morning.’ Dean beamed like it was Christmas as he took the laptop from her. ‘You’re right, this is the most important thing, thanks for getting it to me.’

  ‘No worries at all.’ She sat down on the edge of his bed as she flicked through his chart. ‘Looks like you’re overdue for some more painkillers, young man. The night-time crew had one hell of a night so I can’t put the boot into them for not getting to you in time.’

  ‘Yeah, I reckon I am. The pain in my thigh is bloody murder.’

  Looking over the glasses that were perched on the tip of her nose, Nurse Bracken smiled sympathetically. ‘It’s going to be quite painful for a little while, but I reckon you’re a tough one, so you’ll get through it okay.’ Placing the chart down on the bed, she swivelled to face him. ‘But tell me, other than your injuries, how are you feeling, you know, on the inside?’

  Under Nurse Bracken’s perceptive gaze, Dean swallowed hard. He hadn’t really stopped to think about the emotional scars a bomb could leave, and he’d be a fool to believe there wouldn’t be any. Aware his heart was aching after losing Grant, Dean tried to dig deeper to see if there were other things he was struggling with, even slightly. ‘I don’t feel too bad, considering, although I do feel really tired and a little slow in my movements, and I have noticed it’s a bit hard to concentrate on anything for too long.’

  ‘That’s quite normal after what you’ve been through, just the body’s and mind’s way of trying to cope with such an experience. I know most men like to deal with their emotions quietly, but don’t be afraid to tell you doctor – or me for that matter – about anything you might feel, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  Nurse Bracken stood. ‘Righto then, I’ll go get those painkillers so you can get some more rest, and I’ll grab you a sedative too. The more you can sleep, the faster your body will heal. I’ll be back in a jiffy.’

  As soon as Nurse Bracken had given him his tablets and left the room, Dean flicked open his laptop, excited to read the emails Summer had sent over the past few days. He’d also give her a call when he could get hold of a phone. Typing in his password, he signed into his Hotmail account, surprised to only see one email from Summer. Something was wrong. His heart leapt out of his chest. She always sent him at least two a day.

  Nervously, he opened the email and began reading her words, his heart dying piece by piece as he read on. By the last sentence, he could barely see her words for tears, and his entire word felt like it had been yanked out from beneath him. This took the fucking cake after what he’d been through. Emotions rushed through him: heartache, confusion, shock and anger – so much anger. His heart had been locked away for a good reason, and Summer had found the key to open it, and now she was crushing it without a second thought? How, after the way she had told him she loved him, could she so easily leave him? It was the story of his fucking life. A woman who obviously thought she was too good for him had fooled him again. Her father had clearly gotten his way and talked her into leaving Dean. Well, fuck the lot of them. They could all go to hell.

  Wiping his tears gruffly away, he pushed himself to read her words again. I can’t continue on with our relationship. There is nothing you can do or say to change my mind. He read the date and time she had sent it, working out it was before he’d been almost killed in action. Had that event changed her mind? Would she feel so guilty now that she would say she didn’t mean it? Too bad if it did, she had said it, it was done, and in the most cruel of ways. She hadn’t even had the decency to tell him why. Summer Milton was not the woman he’d believed her to be and there was no way in hell he was going to let her anywhere near his heart again; once bitten, twice shy.

  Pressing reply, he began to type, his words gushing from him like a flooded river breaking its banks.

  Summer,

  I can’t believe our love was shallow enough for you to break it off with me in an email. Couldn’t you have waited until I had gotten home to do this? What an idiot I was, believing you could love me as much as you said you did. And you even have the nerve to sign off by telling me you love me with all your heart, and you always will. WTF! There is no way I could have ever lived up to your father’s expectations of me and I thought you meant it when you said I didn’t need to. Seems to me he has gotten to you. I will respect your decision, even though it kills me, and I won’t be coming anywhere near you again.

  Please refrain from going near my family, and if you haven’t told them already, I would rather you let me do it when I get home. My father loves you and he is going through enough heartache right now with what has just happened to me. I don’t want to put him through any more. I’m sorry, but I can’t find forgiveness in my heart for you right now – maybe in time I will, who knows? Have a nice life, Summer, on whatever path you have found yourself on that doesn’t include me.

  Dean.

  Closing his laptop, Dean flicked the angel pendant off his bedside table, watching as it fell to the floor, and then laid back and closed his eyes. The sedatives were starting to kick in and his pain-filled, heartbreaking world was beginning to fade away. Between losing his mum, Tommy and Grant – and now Summer’s love – he had hit his limit of heartache. All he wanted to do was drift into a deep sleep and never wake up. Maybe he should have died out there on the battlefield, because it would have been a hell of a lot easier than dealing with the endless sorrow Summer’s leaving was going to cause him. He thought he had found his soul mate, found the one true love he was going to have children and live out his days with. That dream was now shattered, and all because he wasn’t good enough. Damn her meddlesome father. Tears slipped from his closed eyelids, and this time he let them fall as he drifted into a drug-hazed sleep.

  Sitting down at the dining table with a cuppa and a ham and cheese toasted sandwich, Summer tried to force down some food. What appetite she’d had had upped and left since finding out about Dean, but she knew she needed to eat – the baby needed sustenance and so did she. She’d rung her mum this morning to tell her about Dean and Marie had insisted on calling in this afternoon. As much as Summer wanted to see her, she really wasn’t in the mood for company. And she was afraid of blurting out that she was pregnant, part of her wanting her mother’s comfort at such a scary time, especially seeing as her mum had opened up to her about her own secret pregnancy. But she couldn’t. It would put her mum in such a terrible position seeing she couldn’t tell Donald, and she wasn’t going to do that to her.

  Turning on her laptop, Summer flicked open her email account, almost choking on her mouthful of food when she spotted an email from Dean. It was only yesterday that he’d been rushed to the military hospital, and she hadn’t expected to get a reply from him overnight, if ever, with what she had written to him. She just sat staring at the screen, her sandwich halfway to her mouth, physically unable to open it to read what it said. She knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant, and how could she blame him? She had secretly hoped that in some way the email had been lost in transit, and that she would get a call from him today.
All she wanted to do right now was to forget the reasons she had to leave him, pretend she had never written the email, and tell him over and over just how happy she was that he was alive and how much she loved him.

  If only she’d been honest with Dean on New Year’s Eve, and told him that she had slept with Marcus a week and a half before. One little lie had led to so many more. She’d always been a stickler for honesty, and this was exactly why. Marcus bloody Avolio had ruined her life, and he had to pay for his sins. It was bad enough that he’d drugged her, and she’d tried to push it aside by stupidly believing he’d just made a mistake. But to find out he’d gone and done it to another woman just proved what a conniving arsehole he was. He had to be stopped. Summer knew now that she had to go to the police with Tasha, and soon. It was wrong of her to wait any longer to go to the authorities. She wondered how long it would take for Dean to find out about her pregnancy. Would he forgive her for it, and understand why she had thought it was for the best that she left him?

  Her emotions hanging by a thread, Summer broke down at the table, sobbing like there was no tomorrow. Her entire life felt like it was a shambles. And knowing that Dean was aware of her leaving him made the reality of it all sink in. She had ruined everything and felt like the biggest bitch on earth. It was absolutely hideous for Dean to almost lose his life, and be lying in a hospital bed when he read her break-up email. What must he think of her?

  Unable to curb her curiosity any longer, she opened the email and began to slowly read his words, every sentence cutting like a knife. It was even worse than she had expected. And by the end of it, she knew, without a doubt, that she had hurt him so very deeply he now despised her. She had to respect that he never wanted to see her again and that he also wanted her to stay away from his family; it was the least she could do after what she’d put him through. Then the thought struck her: what was she going to do if she was carrying his baby? Would she ever tell him? Would he want anything to do with it now she’d crushed him? Was this history repeating itself, like with her mum and Tony?

 

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