Ryder

by Dale Mayer

*

  Ryder held her close. Her vomiting had really worried him.

  He’d seen a lot of different reactions to head injuries, and, from where he was, he counted only a few stitches, six or eight at the most, at the back of her head. She also might have more than a concussion. The doctor had clipped her hair around the torn skin at her nape and had pulled the edges together. It didn’t look deep but was raw and ugly looking. He’d seen much worse. However, what he didn’t know was if she’d sustained other injuries. No way would he sleep. Somebody needed to keep a watch on her overnight.

  He glanced around the tent and saw two of the beds appeared to be claimed as duffel bags were underneath. The rest of the tent was empty. He didn’t really have any right to be here, but it was either this or he took her to the clinic. If nothing else he should let them know what kind of reaction she had had.

  Had they given her drugs? Maybe she’d reacted to those? Worried, he went over the possible scenarios, afraid something much more major was going on.

  Another woman walked into the tent and froze at the sight of him. He held up a finger to his lips, checked on Caitlyn to make sure she was still sleeping and slowly sat up. He walked over to the woman and said, “She was injured today. She just emptied her stomach and couldn’t get warm. She’s asleep now.”

  The other woman was one of the supply chain clerks. She nodded. “I’m just here to collect my bag. Then I report to work.”

  He nodded. “I want to update the doctor on her condition. Can you stay long enough for me to return?”

  She frowned, checked her watch and said, “Only if you’re fast.”

  He was gone instantly. He found Dr. Carter, standing at the entrance to the med center, catching a breath of fresh air. Ryder introduced himself and said, “You put stitches in Caitlyn’s head today. I don’t know if it’s important or not, but she just had a violent upchuck session and couldn’t get warm.”

  The doctor frowned and said, “Are you keeping an eye on her overnight, or do you want me to watch her here?” He turned and looked inside. “We’re really short on space after the last attack.”

  “That’s what Caitlyn said,” Ryder said. “She refused when I mentioned it earlier.”

  “Keep an eye on her. If her symptoms persist or get any worse, bring her in. Likely she’ll be fine come morning.”

  Ryder had to be content with that. He quickly retraced his steps to her tent. The supply chain clerk smiled with relief. “Thanks for being as fast as you were.” And she bolted out the door.

  At Caitlyn’s side, he noted her deep relaxed breathing contrasted by her ashen-white cheeks and an almost bruised look under her eyes. He still had a bucket of nastiness to dispose of. Something he needed to do now. He hated to leave her alone, but the latrine was next door. He dumped the bucket, rinsed it out, dumped and rinsed it a few more times and then went back.

  There was no change in Caitlyn’s condition. She slept deeply. Good. That was the best thing for her. He took her water bottle and raced out to the mess tent for several new ones, and, since he hadn’t had anything to eat, he grabbed a sandwich and some coffee.

  Back at her tent, he sat at the end of her bed to keep watch.

  His phone went off several minutes later. Corey asked, “Where the hell are you?”

  “Caitlyn was injured. I’m at her bedside.” He glanced down to make sure he hadn’t awakened her, but she slept soundly.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “I can’t do anything less,” he said simply.

  After that came no answer. Then again what could Corey say? He knew Caitlyn wasn’t Ryder’s best friend anymore, yet Ryder could hardly leave her like this.

  He was a better person than that. And, although he understood the need to protect his heart, he wasn’t at all sure it was possible. She’d had a place deep inside for such a long time.

  Chapter 3

  Caitlyn opened her eyes, grimacing at the taste in her mouth. For a moment she didn’t understand where she was. She shifted to look around the tent, gasping at the pain in her neck. She closed her eyes for a long moment, and, when she could, she opened them. Ryder sat at the end of her bed, his eyes closed, his cell phone in his hand, looking as if he was thinking. She winced. Apparently she’d been a little more injured than she’d thought.

  With uncanny vision he turned his head, opened his eyes and glanced at her. “How are you feeling?”

  She gave him a small smile and just barely stopped herself from shrugging. “Better. As long as I don’t move, I might survive this,” she said only half-joking.

  He nodded, but his gaze was intent on her face. “Whatever you do, when you’re ready to move, make sure it’s slow,” he warned. “That blast hit you hard.”

  “A piece of debris caught me too. Plus, I just might have reacted to the stress of the situation and the heat. I hadn’t had any lunch or breakfast,” she said.

  He glanced at her in surprise. “Your stomach was empty? You threw up several times.”

  “Mostly acid.” She gave him a small nod. “I did have a muffin somewhere along the line, but I’d been up most of the night too.”

  He nodded in understanding. “It’s tough when that happens.”

  Lying here, she smiled up at him, thankful they were talking as friends, not as combatants or as lovers on the rocks. “So true.” Then she remembered. “You have any update on Mac?”

  Instantly he withdrew. She felt the distance he put between them. Damn. She should have kept her mouth shut.

  He shook his head. “No, not yet.”

  She frowned. “I guess that’s not too surprising. It’s been really busy here.”

  “I’m sure he’ll get in touch with you as soon as he can,” Ryder said quietly.

  “I’m sure he will.” Her tone was as formal as his. Wanting to say something to move them forward but not sure how, she said, “He’s a good friend.” And then she winced inwardly because the only other person she would have said was a really good friend was Ryder. And they’d been friends since they were kids—until they weren’t anymore.

  “Good for you.” He stood up. “If you’re feeling better …”

  She rushed to reassure him. “I’m fine. Thanks for staying and looking after me. You make a great nursemaid.” Her words were said warmly, but inside she cringed. This was a perfect opportunity to broach the subject, yet she didn’t know how to start. How she hated this wishy-washy avoidance. He stood up, and she blurted out, “Mac is just a friend.”

  “Sorry?” He turned back to frown at her.

  She groaned. “I wanted to let you know that Mac is just a friend.”

  He studied her for a long moment. “Like I was just a friend?”

  Her mind filled with images of the two of them. From the first moment they had kissed, they’d been consumed in a passionate fire she’d never experienced before or since. It had taken her by surprise, terrified her actually. She shuddered as heat swamped her.

  When she regained her voice, she said, “No, not like we were good friends.” She took a deep breath. Maybe it was because she was sick. Maybe it was knowing he’d stayed and looked after her all night. But she wanted to get this out. “I’ve missed you.”

  His gaze gentled. “I’ve missed you too,” he admitted. “You were such a major part of my life for so long.”

  “Then why are we like this now?” she asked. “Even if there is nothing else, I’d like to know we’re friends enough that you don’t have to leave a party when I arrive.”

  His face closed down, and he resumed his walk toward the entrance. She could see his fists clenching and releasing.

  “I never meant to upset you,” she called out. “I’d hoped to see you, to talk to you, at the party.”

  He froze for a long moment, then continued to walk out the doorway. He paused, turned and said, “There is a limit to where friendship can go.” And he disappeared.

  What did that mean? She went over his answer, tearing it apart
, looking for any innuendo that would give her a little bit of hope. Had she said enough? No, probably not. What did he mean? There was a limit to how friendly he could be? He wasn’t prepared to go back to the way they were? Or had she jumped into a space where she wasn’t welcome? Those at the party were all his friends. Was that the problem? Maybe he felt like she’d intruded. Trying to explain after so long a break between them was awkward.

  And then there was Mac. He had been her shoulder to cry on. He’d been a stalwart friend at her side whenever there was an event she wanted to go to but didn’t dare go alone. Mac was dealing with his own problems, his own heartbreak and hadn’t wanted to get involved either. They’d been safe together. No pressure. No expectations. And she’d needed that then.

  As she considered Ryder’s quick retreat, she realized it didn’t look like Ryder would let her back into his life any time soon. And that was heartbreaking.

  She felt so damn weak; it was hard to focus on what else she could’ve said to him. Could say to him next time. She’d been looking for a way to delicately open up the subject of their passionate weekend. That weekend was when everything had changed. That’s when everything had broken down between them. She knew it was her fault, and it wouldn’t be easy to fix.

  Today they’d spoken without animosity. Last night he’d looked after her. It was a start. She lay here regretting not having said so much more. How would she get that opening again?

  But for now she had to go to the bathroom. She threw back the blanket and slowly propped herself up. The room swam, and she moaned. “Damn it.” She should’ve asked for his help to get there. But the last thing she wanted was to show any more weakness. The military was bred on strength, and she had to tell the injured to ask for help when they needed it. Yet, she’d been the one to refuse help any chance she could get. She started to realize, when the chips were down, she was just like the others. Then, as everyone said, medical professionals made the worst patients.

  She gained her footing and walked very slowly toward the entrance. Once there, she held onto the doorway and took several deep breaths before walking in the direction of the bathrooms. Halfway there she realized she still wasn’t as strong as she should be. She faltered. Instantly an arm came around her waist, and Ryder hooked her arm over his shoulder.

  “Let’s get you there and back again,” he said quietly.

  She let out her breath. “Sorry. I thought I was strong enough.”

  “I know the feeling. But sometimes our body doesn’t let us get away with that stubborn stance.” He helped her to the entrance to the latrine.

  Afterward she washed her hands and face and went back out. The shakes were still there. She took a deep breath, saw him waiting for her and smiled. “This sucks,” she said. “I was hoping to work today.”

  “Not happening. If you pass out on me, I’ll take you to the clinic. I talked to the doctor last night about your condition as it is.”

  Outraged, she glared at him. “I told you that I just needed sleep.”

  “And you puked your guts out several times, collapsed and then couldn’t get warm. Pardon me if I was worried.”

  She had to give it to him. As reasons went, they were pretty damn solid.

  Back in her tent, he helped her to the bed where she sat down. “My stomach might be empty now, but it sure wishes it wasn’t. Is there any chance I could make it to the mess tent and get something to eat?”

  “You’re not getting a chance to try. Tell me what you want, and I will get it for you.”

  She thought about it a moment. “How about a yogurt, some fruit and a sandwich? Something that might stick, yet something not too heavy.” As he walked through the door, she said, “And coffee.”

  He continued outside without acknowledging the last bit, so she could only hope he heard. She did love her coffee. She drifted off a couple times, waking just enough to see if he had returned. Soon Ryder walked in holding a tray. She slowly sat up, propped the pillows against the end of the bed, shifted until she sat cross-legged. He set the tray on the bed beside her.

  “Glad you slept,” he said. “I also went to the doctor and reported in on your condition again.”

  “I’m fine. I feel better but tired, and, then again, maybe that’s hunger.” Her stomach growled. She smiled and looked at the feast in front of her. “What’s in the bags?”

  “Sandwiches for later and a couple muffins. I don’t want you heading to the mess tent on your own until tomorrow.”

  “I said I was better,” she protested.

  “That’s what you said the last time and lulled me into believing it. That won’t work again.”

  She gave him a look of outrage, but the smell of the food in front of her was more than she could resist. She picked up a small yogurt, pulled off the top and devoured it in a few bites. With that gone, she started in on the fruit salad. When she was halfway finished, she realized she needed to slow down. She settled back, picked up her coffee and took several sips. She glanced at the food and over at him. “Have you eaten? You want to share this with me?”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m meeting some friends in a little bit.”

  “How’s Corey?”

  Ryder’s lips quirked. “The same as ever.”

  “Good. I miss him too.”

  “I’ll pass it on.”

  She took that to mean Corey wouldn’t be coming to see her any time soon. At least other than to warn her to stay away from Ryder. She’d seen that SEAL brotherhood in action many times before. They stood up for each other; they felt the pain for each other, and they formed a line of defense to stop it from happening again. “What have you been doing for the last couple months?” she asked. “I’ve hardly heard anything about you.”

  She picked up half of the sandwich in front of her and took a bite. Eating much slower, she nibbled her way through it, thankful everything appeared to be settling in her stomach. She saw the bucket was beside her just in case. That was enough to bring a grimace to her face.

  Ryder didn’t appear to notice. “Busy,” he said. “With the state of the world right now, I’m sure you can imagine.”

  “It’s a scary place out there.”

  “It is, as you know, a scary place here too.” He looked at her, his gaze intensifying by the minute.

  She frowned at him. “Now what’s the matter?”

  “You shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Then you shouldn’t be here either.”

  “It’s what I do.”

  But she knew he wasn’t a sexist. It went much deeper. He still cared, just like she still cared. They couldn’t be friends for twenty years and not have something between them still.

  “I want you to stay safe too,” she said in a low tone. She thought she saw a softening in his gaze.

  Then he said, “I got an update on Mac.”

  She brightened. “How is he?”

  *

  Ryder felt something sink in his stomach as he watched her eyes light up and soften with a loving smile forming on her lips. She had said she and Mac were friends. Was that how she’d looked whenever Ryder’s name was mentioned? He wished. No way were she and Mac just friends if she looked like that at the sound of his name.

  Pulling back his jealousy and sense of helplessness, he said, “He’ll be fine. He’s recovering in one of the main base hospitals. They’ll send him stateside as soon as he’s well enough to travel.”

  She nodded her head. “That makes sense. He’ll need physiotherapy for a few months, I’m sure.”

  “And you? Are you content to stay here when the reason you came overseas was to be with him?”

  Surprise darkened her gaze, and the soft look left her face. “I did not come here to be closer to Mac,” she said firmly. “I’m happy to serve, and I saw no point in staying home when I could be of more help here. Yes, Mac was here, but then so were you and Corey.”

  He gave her points for that. He glanced at his watch. His tim
e was up. “Do you think you’ll be okay alone now?”

  “I’ll be totally fine, thank you.” She glanced toward the door and said, “It’s late anyway. So if I can sleep through the night, I’ll be much better in the morning.”

  “You promise to talk to the doctor first thing tomorrow?”

  She chuckled. “I promise.”

  He smiled. “Good enough. In that case, I’ll take my leave.”

  He turned to walk out, but she called out, “Why do you hate me so much?”

  He froze, his stomach sinking. He couldn’t do this. She had to know how he felt already. He turned and glanced at her. “I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you.” Then he walked out.

  Outside Corey, Devlin and Easton waited for him. He glanced at them and raised an eyebrow. He hoped they hadn’t heard the conversation, but, knowing these guys, they would have gotten the gist of it anyway. “What’s happening?”

  “We’re heading out in two hours to lead the fight against another militant army. The local group we left behind was attacked hard. They need reinforcements. They’ve got troops coming in from the northern part of the country, and we’re taking troops from here until theirs arrive.”

  Ryder nodded. “Good.” As they walked away, he muttered, “Glad she’s here, not back on the frontline again.”

  “Ryder, apparently she volunteered for that position.”

  Ryder glanced at Corey. “Say what?”

  Corey nodded. “I talked to the doctor earlier. Anytime there’s a dangerous position, and they need a medic up in the front, she offers to go.”

  “Damn her. What has she got, a death wish?” He couldn’t believe she continually put herself in harm’s way like that. The girl he’d known all these years hadn’t been as daring or as reckless, nor had she been that brave. What brought about that change?

  “You may have to admit she’s not the same as she used to be,” Easton said quietly. “Women change. They grow up, go through strife and trouble and become somebody else. If you’re lucky, they become somebody you admire all that much more.”

  Ryder didn’t bother answering. “As long as she’s here recovering and not in the middle of the fighting, I don’t care.”