by Tanya Jolie
She looked at him with concern painted across her face. “Again? Meaning that this has happened before?”
Luke took a deep breath and prepared himself to tell her all the things he had never told anyone else. “’Member how I told you I was in Arizona doing physical therapy on my shoulder?” She nodded. “Well, it wasn’t the only thing I was there for. I didn’t just come back from war with a screwed up shoulder. I also came back with PTSD. Did a lot of therapy while I was there too, and I thought I was getting better. I really thought I was, but the flashbacks to the attack…they kept happenin’. I was out joggin’ one night with my headphones in, and a guy behind me grabbed my arm to tell me my keys had fallen out of my pocket. He had been hollerin’ at me but I didn’t hear it.”
Too scared to see the expression of disappointment on her face, he kept his eyes on the ground as he continued. “I wasn’t expecting it, and I just snapped. I blacked out like I did tonight, and when I came to a cop was pulling me from this guy. A random stranger.” Luke said the words with disgust as tears began to well in his eyes again. “That was about a month into therapy. After that my doc decided that just therapy wasn’t going to cut it anymore. I was too far gone. So she prescribed me some pills. Apparently lots of military members take them and say that they help. They might help with the blackouts and flashbacks, but the side effects are what get you.”
He cleared his throat, trying to swallow down the tears that threatened to expose themselves, before he continued. “They made me shaky, irritable, and exhausted. That’s why I didn’t take them today. I didn’t want you to have to cut our date short because I was tired. I wanted to be the person you remembered from high school, not some poor idiot who needed meds just to make it through a normal day. When he pushed me, something in me snapped. I blacked out, and the next thing I remembered, I was kneeling over him on the floor.”
Serena looked at him with his head hung in shame and couldn’t help but cry. She knew she was looking at a broken man, a man who truly didn’t think he deserved better. “So that’s what happened tonight? You didn’t take your medicine?”
“Yeah, but it’s not always like that. I don’t just snap for no reason when I don’t take my meds. There has to be some type of trigger, and tonight, Nathan was that trigger.” He finally raised his eyes to meet hers, and his heart sank when he saw the tears on her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Serena.”
“What happened that night? The night of the attack?”
Luke fought the memories that began to flood back with all his might, but he knew that she deserved answers. She deserved to understand what had happened, why he was the way he was. “We were driving through Iraq, through the southern region. Me and a couple guys were walkin’ beside the tank and a few guys were inside. It was just like any other day. We were out scoping grounds when out of nowhere a mine went off. One of the poor ol’ boys on the other side of the tank took a wrong step and set it off.”
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he continued. “There was blood everywhere. Me and the guys on my side of the tank had minor injuries, mainly from impact of being pushed to the ground at high speeds. But the guys on the other side…well, they weren’t so lucky. We lost some good men that day.” Taking a sharp breath, he tried to decide if he should continue or not, but he knew that she needed to know everything to be able to understand it. “My best friend, Ryan, he was one of ’em that didn’t make it.
“Lyin’ there, I felt so helpless,” he continued. “My ears were ringing so loud that I just knew I would never hear again. Looking all around me, all I could see were my friends’ bodies on the ground. When I was able to regain my balance and stand, I looked around for Ryan, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. Finally I found him lying facedown on the other side of the tank. I rolled him over to see if he was okay, but I could tell he wasn’t with me anymore. There was just too much blood.”
“Luke…” Serena was unable to find the words to say to comfort him. She had no idea what to say in a situation like this. There was nothing she could say that would help him.
“I think the worst part was telling his mom. I volunteered to be the one to deliver the news. I figured it would be easier for her if it was a familiar face. So I flew to Nebraska and knocked on her door. He was their only son. It just wasn’t fair, ya know?” All the tears he had been trying to hold back flooded his face as he buried his head in his hands.
Serena quickly got to her feet, closing the gap between them, and kneeled before him. She pulled his hands into hers and kissed his forehead gently. “Luke, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” They both cried silently for a few moments more before she finally spoke again. “You are the bravest person I have ever known.”
“Me?” he scoffed. “I ain’t never been brave a day in my life. You wanna know how I made it through? Why I went back so many times?” With a confused expression, Serena nodded. “I kept your picture right here.” He put his hand on the left side of his chest and tapped it lightly. “Right in the pocket over my heart.”
Pulling his wallet from his pocket, he slid out a folded-up picture. Very carefully he unfolded it and handed it to her. She ran her manicured fingertips over the extremely worn image and smiled. It was an image of her from their senior year in high school. She had her head tilted back in a fit of laughter with her feet propped up on the end of the couch. She remembered that day perfectly. It was another one of the days that they had spent doing nothing together, but this particular day she hadn’t been in a great mood. He had been trying all day to get her to smile, with no such luck.
After trying everything he could think of, he slipped off to her room and slid on a pair of her short shorts. When he walked into the front room, she busted out into laughter and couldn’t get herself to stop. In that moment, he snapped a picture of her. He told her that he wanted her to keep it to remind her that no matter what, they would always be able to make a bad day better. Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought back to the feelings she’d had that night. Although she had never told him, it was the first night she knew that he was the one for her, that they were made to be together.
“After all this time?” She looked up at him with bloodshot eyes.
“You were my strength, Serena. Always have been. Every time I had a bad day, every time I missed home, every time I was terrified for my life, I took out that picture. I looked down at your smiling face and remembered exactly what I was fightin’ for. I was fightin’ for you, Serena. It’s always been for you.” Serena enveloped him in a tight hug and held on for dear life. “There wasn’t a day that I went without thinking about you.”
Serena whispered into his neck, “I never stopped loving you. Every day I prayed to God that he would bring you home to me. I prayed that he would bring you home safe.” Pulling away slightly, she looked deep in his eyes. “I know it was selfish of me, but I never wanted you to leave that summer. I was so angry at God for letting you go. The country didn’t need you; I did.”
Luke’s heart felt so heavy in his chest that he was unsure if it would ever beat the same again. “Well, you got me, and I ain’t ever leaving again. I’m right where I need to be.” Serena planted an eager kiss on his lips and pulled him in tight against her.
“Promise you won’t ever leave me again?”
“I promise.”
*
Ten Years Later
“Order’s up!” Wanda hollered from the kitchen. Serena rushed over to the counter between the kitchen and the dining area and grabbed the tray of plates. She made her way quickly over to the Richardsons at the back booth, careful not to bump anyone as she went by.
After passing out the plates, she looked up at everyone with a bright smile. “Everything look all right?”
“Yes, ma’am. It all looks great,” Mr. Richardson replied.
“Perfect! Well, let Wanda or me know if you need anything else.”
“Thank you, Serena!” As she made her way back up to the register to ring out another family, the
front door to the restaurant opened and in came a little shaggy-haired boy.
“Mommy!” he yelled as he opened his arms up wide for a hug.
“Hi, sweetie!” Serena exclaimed as she bent down to wrap him up in a tight hug. When she stood back up, she saw Luke walking in with their beautiful baby girl on his hip.
“How are things going?”
She untied her apron and tossed it at him, and she took baby Quin from him. “It’s your turn.” Letting out a heartfelt laugh, he planted a kiss on her lips and pulled her against him, wrapping her and Quin in a hug.
“You got a minute?”
“Are you kidding me?” She laughed. “I’m off the clock. It’s one of the perks of sleeping with the owner.”
Letting out a laugh, he grabbed her hand and began pulling her behind him toward the door. “I got a surprise for you. Close your eyes now. I’ll guide you. No peaking!” He led her out the front door and pulled her until she was right in front of the building. With his hands on either side of her shoulders he said, “All right, open ’em.”
She opened her eyes to see a new sign being hung over the front door of the restaurant where the “Stumpies” sign used to hang. In bright red letters it read “Crawford’s Café.” She squealed with excitement. “You did not?!”
“What do you think, Mrs. Crawford?” She loved the way those words sounded in his voice. She got butterflies every time he said it.
“I think it’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Luke looked at her longingly and couldn’t believe how lucky he was. In ten years he had married his high school sweetheart, had two beautiful children, and bought their own business.
If you would have told him back then where he would be now, he would have never believed you. He couldn’t imagine where he would have been had it not been for Serena showing up at his mom’s house that night. Had she not come over, he probably would have spent the rest of his life assuming that she hated him. That night seemed so long ago that he faintly even remembered what had happened between him and Nathan, but he sure remembered the sparks that had flown between him and Serena.
His mother was right about that night. Within a month someone else in their town had done something even more stupid, and it was suddenly a thing of the past. He mended relationships with everyone there that night and even went to Nathan’s house the next night to apologize.
He had never been a better man than when he was with her. She brought out a side of him that he had long ago buried. Luke had thought that after the attack that night in Iraq, nothing would ever bring him happiness again. No light could ever cut through that darkness, but she did. She shone so brightly that the stars seemed dim in comparison.
Luke looked over at her to see her smiling at him. “After all this time?”
“After all this time,” she said back to him. “And all the time after that.”
THE END
Other Romance Categories
Highland Rebel
Love, passion and war
Highlander Romance
Highland Rebel
The ground is bumpy, here in the Highlands. And even in late summer, there is a chill in the air. Sophie feels her arms jar as her horse, Midnight, crosses stony ground. The breeze of her passing stirs the leaves and raises gooseflesh on her arms. The scents and sounds of the forest conspire to make all that secondary; all that matters is the peace, and the rattling, racing joy of the ride. Sophie loves to ride. She has come to the Scottish Highlands with her father, Colonel Anthony Hogarth, the Viscount Boyne, who is here to supervise a garrison on the Highland border, near Aberdeen. This is the first time she has had a chance to ride out alone.
It is the year of our Lord seventeen-hundred and forty. Sophie has been here for two weeks: a round of obligatory balls and parties, strained gatherings among nobles exiled too long from England to remember gentility, and involved in war so long that they carry bigotry like a second skin. It is a good feeling to be out here, in Nature, with the wind and Midnight as her only companions. Sophia feels like herself for the first time in months. Free.
“Whoa, Midnight. Good. Good girl.”
Sophie leans over to pat the neck of her horse. The forest is completely silent. She feels the sweat from the ride slowly condensing on her neck, trickle between her shoulder-blades beneath the green velvet of her riding gown. Her pale hair has escaped the hairnet, curling onto the back of her neck. She reaches up to adjust it absently, looking around her as she does so with wide hazel-green eyes.
A cry rends the air. Shaking, enraged, Sophie feels herself start with the fright. Part of her wants to hide in the trees.
This is a dangerous land, full of rebels and outlaws. The noise could be anything at all.
Sophie rides on, listening. She is not the sort to be daunted, and her curiosity is deeper than her fear. Despite her slight frame and wide green eyes, her apparent delicacy, there is a steel in her, a tendency to take action. Nursing her mother in her final illness when she herself was only twelve years old has given Sophie a competency and maturity beyond her years. That was eight years ago. At twenty, she has become the solid core of the household, used to being relied on.
She rides on into a clearing, a gap made by an old, majestic tree falling, giving way to bracken and brush. The light is brighter here, giving her the shivers despite the residual warmth of the hard ride. Her eyes adjust to the light, and in the clearing, suddenly, she notices a man.
She breathes in, sharply, the sudden human presence a shock in this emptiness. Then she looks again.
He is slightly older than her. Perhaps about twenty eight, she judges. He has a strange dignity. Even here in the forest, he is holding himself regally, like a king. He is also a strange grey color, and sweating profusely. She cannot see if he is armed, but he does not look in a fit state to do damage to anyone.
“Hello?” Sophie ventures.
This could be less straightforward than just asking:
The locals all speak Gaelic, and mostly only that.
“Hello?”
The man replies in perfect English, only slightly accented. And his voice is... well... it has a soothing quality, a deep resonance. Sophie bites her lip. The voice throbs through her, making her feel alive.
“Perhaps you could help me?”
And then Sophie notices it. His leg. Where the left calf should be is a confluence of flesh and metal and blood. A snare. She feels shock, and then calm. She is used to blood and wounding.
“Of course. Let me see.”
The scent of blood wafts up to her as she nears him, a sharp, metallic brightness in this place of pine-needles and damp earth. The leg seems broken, the teeth of the trap caught solidly. They are deep in the flesh, which is itself soaked in dark blood. The smell is overpowering.
“Won't you… sit down?”
He lifts his brows. “How can I?”
True.
Sophie looks carefully at the man while she gathers her thoughts. That he is a Scotsman is clear. That means he is certainly her father's enemy, But he is an injured man. She cannot leave him here unattended.
She studies him while she thinks. Fine-boned face. Thin lips, well-curved. High, angular cheekbones, grey eyes. She looks down again, suddenly shy. A sudden sweet stab of feeling has distracted her. She shakes her head and concentrates instead on the injury. At least that is something she understands.
She has never faced an injury quite like this one before. Sophie takes a deep breath. Makes a decision.
“Would you like me to try and remove the trap?”
“You can?” The hope is raw in his voice.
“I could. But it could be dangerous.” She cautions. “When I remove the teeth of the trap, blood will flow. You could bleed to death.”
“Put... bandage. Here. Above the knee.” He gestures. “Stop... bleeding.”
A tourniquet. Of course.
A branch. Wrapped into the ends of the bandage, it can act like a lever, to help fasten the ban
daging tight. Sophie searches frantically for a minute.
“Here!” She rejoins the path and runs back to the clearing.
The man looks up levelly. She threads the branch quickly, tying the opposite ends of the bandage to it in two firm knots. Takes hold. Starts to twist. The strength in her slender arms is surprising. She bites her lip with concentration.
When the tourniquet seems tight enough, Sophie takes the cold iron of the trap between her hands.
She grips the metal and pulls. Hard. And harder. The man groans. Nothing budges. No. Her face creases with the intensity of that thought. I will not let this have him.
She pulls again. Her shoulders are burning; she is gasping with the effort.
The teeth part. The trap opens. The man falls slightly to the side, then sits down heavily. The leg is free.
They are both silent for a moment. The only sound is Sophie's strained breathing. The bandage is holding back all but a thread of blood. The smell of it is bright, iron sharp. It catches her throat.
“Are you alright?”
She looks up. Their eyes meet. It is impossible, suddenly, to look away. They are strange, a caste in the left eye, which makes him look somehow implacably authoritative. This is a man born to lead. Sophie feels her blood rise to her face, and a strange pulsing deep inside her, somewhere between her heart and her waist. Then his eyes close.
Sophie makes a decision.
“I'm going to stay with you until help arrives, Mister...”
He opens his eyes a slit. “Bryce. Bryce Gowan”
“I'm going to stay here with you, Mister Gowan.”