To the Limit

by Jo Leigh

  “I don’t know how entertaining it is, but usually I’m working on lesson plans, or tutoring, or like now I’m helping to put together a funnel-cake booth for the upcoming Fall Festival. Oh, and my big thrill for the month...I’m lending a hand with making the costumes for a play at the school.”

  Sam smiled at her mock enthusiasm. “You can sew?”

  “I’ve learned, although I’m no Martha Stewart. Thankfully, I’m mostly patching up or changing costumes that have been used before, so it’s not that hard. I don’t mind. I listen to podcasts or audiobooks while I’m working on them.”

  She might not have gotten married again, but she had built a life for herself. Friends and interests and a full schedule. She even sounded happy. It must have taken a lot of work for her to move on the way she had.

  Although the steak was excellent and he’d been starving, the more she talked, the more nervous he became. No way she wouldn’t ask about what brought him to Alamogordo, and he wasn’t going to lie. It didn’t matter that his life had taken a sharp curve downward; the conversation would naturally lead to them both thinking about how Danny had run out of luck three years ago. That Sam had some nerve to complain at all.

  His hunger abated along with his courage. He could have used some advice from someone wiser, more experienced. The way he and John had dealt with the aftermath of Danny’s death was to not talk about it. They’d both been offered counseling and had passed. Sam was under no delusions that he had hidden behind his testosterone like a kid hides under the covers to keep the monsters away. He hoped like hell Emma had done more.

  Maybe she was right to want to keep her distance. If they saw each other again, even once more, the elephant in the room would have to be acknowledged. But dammit, he did want to see her again. Tomorrow wouldn’t be too soon.

  * * *

  “YOU ALL RIGHT?” Emma asked. Sam had been looking at her for a long while, which wouldn’t have been quite as bad if she understood what was behind his furrowed brow.

  He jerked his head back, pasted on a smile. “Yeah, sorry. I just...”

  “Got lost?”

  He nodded, then turned his attention to his meal. He cut a piece of meat, but instead of eating it, he reached for his wine.

  “Is it too much?” she asked. “I understand if I bring back too many memories. Honest.”

  “What? No. I like seeing you. I was afraid I was making you uncomfortable. Jeez, no. You’re the best part of coming to Alamogordo.”

  Emma blinked at that. She was the best part? That had to be an exaggeration. He was going to fly the Raptor. That was the brass ring for a guy like Sam. She’d caught him off guard, that was all. “Now that you’re going to be living here, you can call it Alamo. It makes things a lot easier, and people won’t think you’re a tourist.”

  “Good to know. Thanks.” With troubled eyes, he searched her face. “Look, I want you to know that I don’t ever want to be a source of discomfort or make waves in your life. You say the word, and I might send you a Christmas card but that’ll be it.”

  “No,” she said, more vehemently than she’d meant to. “I mean, no, it’s fine. It’s good that you’re here. I loved those years we were all a team. Those are some of my best memories ever. It’s nice to be reminded of the fun parts, of how happy we were, even when there was so much pressure at school and then being transferred and everything was scary. You were...are a great friend, Sam.”

  He didn’t respond right away. They even had time to order coffee. When he put his hand on top of hers, it was all she could do not to out-and-out gasp. Like the hug, his touch reverberated, expanding as it filled her chest. For whatever reason, the reaction was ridiculously disproportionate to the gesture. If it wouldn’t have hurt his feelings, she’d have pulled free.

  “I’m glad,” he said. “I think about Danny a lot. But I think about you, too. John and I were talking about the four of us a few weeks ago. He sends his regards. I’m hoping he and his new girlfriend will come out here. We’re not all that far from Vegas.”

  “Girlfriend? Guess it was bound to happen.”

  Sam moved his hand away, poured them each a few fingers of wine, which emptied the bottle. “Her name’s Cassie and she’s a psychology student who tends bar at her brother’s place.”

  “Huh.”

  “I know.” Sam grinned, and she liked that feeling of sharing a secret again. “He was surprised, too. I guess we all thought he’d end up with someone a little more...like his mom. I mean, as an air force wife.”

  “So it’s serious.”

  “Who knows in the end, but yeah. It’s certainly different. He’s pretty crazy about her.”

  “I’m glad. He’s a good guy. He’s at Nellis, then?”

  Sam nodded. “Test pilot.”

  Emma smiled, even though her first thought was about the danger of flying new aircraft. “Wow,” she said. “That’s fantastic. Scary, but great.”

  “But first, he’s back in training. You know how that goes.”

  Coffee came, and Emma stirred in a half packet of sweetener. “Well, look at you two. Both of you in the desert, both of you having your dreams come true. I know Danny would be so pleased. He always said you guys were the cream of the crop. That you two were his only competition for hottest stud pilot in the U.S. Air Force. Guess he was right.”

  She lifted her cup, but halfway to her mouth she caught the look on Sam’s face. Instead of the smug grin she’d expected to find, his expression had gone flat. Not even a hint of a smile curved his lips, and his eyes seemed shadowed as he stared down at his own coffee. It couldn’t be because she’d mentioned Danny. “Sam?”

  “I’m not here to fly Raptors,” he said in a low, empty voice.

  “I don’t understand. That’s all the 49th flies.”

  He looked at her and it was as if she’d imagined the past few seconds. His eyes were bright, his smile genuine. “Yeah, well, I’ve been grounded.”

  “You’ve...what?”

  “I’m not flying. I, uh, had some complications from corrective eye surgery. I don’t meet the requirements anymore.”

  “Oh, Sam.” She felt his disappointment all the way to her soul. He could put on a show all he wanted but she knew what being grounded meant to someone like him...to any pilot, but this was Sam and her heart ached for him. “I am so, so sorry.”

  He shrugged. Sipped his coffee, didn’t lose his carefree air. “I’m not out on my ass, so that’s good. I’m an instructor now. For the MQ-9 drone. Which is cool because that’s the future, you know? It’s all about precision targeting and minimizing civilian casualties. I’m all over that.” He chuckled. “We’re in the same profession now. You’ll have to give me some pointers.”

  She had no idea what to say to him. No amount of bright eyes or happy smiles would convince her that Sam “Jaws” Brody was anything but devastated at losing his wings. He lived for flying, just as Danny had.

  God, the only thing that had gotten her through Danny’s death was that he’d died doing something he loved more than breathing. More than her. “It seems so unfair.”

  “We both know how that works,” he said quietly, and she lowered her gaze to her cup, hating that she was only making it worse with thoughtless remarks. “I’m okay. I was disappointed, sure, but I’m contributing. Hell, these men and women need instructors who are used to combat conditions. They deserve the best, and, well...” He spread his arms as he leaned back in his chair. “I’m going to do my damnedest to be just that.”

  She laughed with him, wondering how strong that facade of his was. What it had taken for him to make some kind of peace with this drastic turn of fate.

  Thank goodness she’d agreed to the dinner. That she’d encouraged him to pick up their friendship. But she’d have to be awfully careful about their proximity, and her stupid reaction
s. Sam was a warrior to the bone, but he was also vulnerable. What he needed was a real friend. She’d leaned on him when her world had fallen apart, at least for a while, and now, she could return the favor. As long as she kept her own weakness in check.

  Lifting her cup for a toast, she gave him the air force motto. “Aim high.”

  “Fly, fight, win,” he responded, although his voice might have broken a bit on that first word.

  3

  “I’LL TAKE IT,” Sam said.

  The real estate agent, Mrs. Laurens, blinked in surprise. “There’s more to choose from. The next one on my list is a great town house with a fireplace. I know that might not seem appealing now, but in the winter it can be very nice.”

  She had a point. This one-bedroom apartment was the first he’d looked at, and was probably meant to encourage him to increase his price range. But the place was clean, situated in the back of the property, so the noise wouldn’t be bad. The grounds appeared to be well maintained, the furniture inside was about as nice as he could expect, so no sweat. It didn’t compare to the Texas duplex, but it was fine. Mostly, he just didn’t care enough to keep looking, so why waste the day? It wasn’t as if he had anything else to do.

  His things, including his Mustang, would arrive tomorrow, and he had no intention of staying in that motel one day longer than he had to. The horrible bed, the lack of coffee and the terrible TV were fine for a night or two, but after that it felt too much like a prison cell.

  “Thanks, but this’ll do.”

  The Realtor eyed the nick on the edge of the Formica counter. “The place is nice enough, I suppose, but frankly, you can do so much better.”

  Sam hid his amusement. So she had been trying to jack up his price range. “How soon do you think I’ll be able to get the keys?”

  “The agency already preapproved you. There shouldn’t be any reason not to get the key this afternoon.” She frowned. “You’re sure, now? The lease is for a year.”

  He glanced at the semifurnished living room. The couch looked relatively new, the overstuffed chair clean. The walls were painted white with no decoration, not even a garage sale landscape. Even the television was a bargain-basement brand with questionable color, but at least the place came with cable. The apartment might not be the best, but it wasn’t the motel, and maybe he could fill some time here. Changing out the shower head was first on his list.

  He honestly couldn’t imagine Emma on that couch or chair. Which was another good reason to sign the lease.

  “Would you like to come back to my office while we wait?”

  “No, I’m fine. I’ll go grab some lunch. Just let me know when I can get the key.”

  With an air of defeat, she shook his hand. “I hope you enjoy living in Alamo,” she said. “It may be hot, but it’s a good community. My husband is a civilian at Holloman, and he loves it there.”

  “I’m sure I will.” He followed her back out to the front of the complex. When they reached the main parking lot he asked, “How far is the closest diner?”

  She leaned to her left and looked past his shoulder. “Two blocks that way.”

  “Great,” he said. “Thanks.” He waited to hear the click of her car locks releasing and held the driver’s door open for her. She didn’t linger, for which he was grateful. Nice woman, but damn, he did not want to chat. While getting the apartment helped divert his attention away from Emma, it also made his new assignment a lot less theoretical.

  In a matter of days he’d be in his classroom teaching both pilots who had transferred from manned aircraft and those who’d signed up for the short course, bypassing the long training and flight experience for immediate assignment as RPA pilots and sensor managers.

  For the pilots like Sam, it would be a whole different ball game. The physicality of flying was a hard thing to remove from the equation. For those who’d done the undergrad training in Colorado and Randolph, this would be the ultimate test where they would learn the real tricks to maneuvering an aircraft remotely thousands of miles away, and what it would be like to be responsible for so many lives.

  Sam would learn about himself, as well. He’d had limited exposure as a teacher, and nothing on this scale. It would be a real challenge. But it wouldn’t be flying.

  As he walked, the thought of never climbing into a fighter jet again overwhelmed him. In the year since he’d been grounded, these waves of doubt and anger still caught him off guard. In self-defense he switched gears. To Emma, of course. He’d almost called her a dozen times since dinner last night. He wasn’t sorry he’d told her about losing his flight status. She’d taken it well. Said the right things. She wasn’t a pilot, though, so she couldn’t understand. Even all her years with Danny didn’t help her get it. It was one of those things that you had to experience.

  He almost passed the diner, he was so caught up in his thoughts. The place seemed okay. The health notice out front gave it an A grade, it wasn’t a chain and only had two other customers.

  The booth in the back had his name on it, and he settled in. A waitress, the only one he saw in the whole joint, gave him a menu. He ordered an iced tea, and that was it. He should have picked up a newspaper. A paperback. Something. He pulled out his cell, metaphorical fingers crossed, and sure enough, he was able to connect to the free Wi-Fi. Not a bad connection, either. But instead of clicking on the New York Times website or any of his favorites— Ah, who was he kidding, instead of calling Emma he ended up calling John.

  “Jaws Brody, how the hell are you?”

  Despite his mood, Sam couldn’t help his grin. “Someone sounds like he’s getting it regular.”

  “Someone is. Quite happily. How you doing, Sammy? You in Alamogordo yet?”

  “Yep. I’m here. Looks like I’ve found a place to live, and it’s hotter than hell here.”

  “You wanna talk hot? Come to Vegas, my man. In fact, seriously. You’re on leave. Come out here. Meet Cassie. She’s got friends. I’ve got friends. We’ll set you up, you can have a nice time, then you can start your new life knowing what happened in Vegas will only be gossiped about among your acquaintances from Nellis to Kandahar.”

  “You make it sound so appealing.”

  “Hey. It’ll be some laughs.”

  “I laugh plenty.” Sam gave the menu a look but quickly realized he was going to order a burger and fries no matter what. “So I saw Emma.”

  “No kidding?” John’s voice had gone back to regular, thank God. “How is she?”

  “She looks great. She’s teaching at the community college out here. The school’s on the base.”

  “Wow. That’s convenient. I think.”

  “Hold on a sec.” The waitress had returned and Sam ordered, so he was back to the conversation in seconds. “She seems content. Involved. She’s doing something with a local festival that I didn’t quite catch, and she’s on a bowling league.”

  The laugh was more of a quick bark that was so loud, Sam had to pull the cell away from his ear. “Bowling, huh? Does that mean she’s with someone?”

  “What? How does bowling mean she’s dating? Anyway, no. Whether it’s a lull between boyfriends or if she hasn’t seen anyone since Danny, I have no idea.”

  “I wonder. You gonna see her again?”

  “I think so. Yeah. I’d like to. I don’t know who’s stationed here yet. Haven’t really been to the base. So she’s promised to give me the nickel tour.”

  “I’m glad you called her.” John hesitated. “Even though she asked us to give her space, I always felt like I deserted her. And then I was deployed a couple months later...”

  “We were in mourning, too, and I doubt she needed us around as reminders,” Sam said, but he knew exactly what John meant. “We did what she asked, and it was the right thing.” He cleared his throat.

  “You and Cassie,
huh?”

  John paused, and wherever he was, it was quiet. No jets in the background. “It’s better than I imagined it could be, Sam. Looks like I’m gonna be flying the next-gen F-35, hot off the line. Training’s good. The instructors know their shit. And going home to Cassie is the icing on the cake. I’d hate to jinx myself, but I gotta say, this beats the hell out of barhopping. No more of those awkward after-sex negotiations. And she’s busy with bartending and school, so she doesn’t mind my crazy hours.”

  Instead of hanging up like he wanted to, Sam forced a smile, knowing it would show in his tone. “You lucky dog. It sounds like you’ve got life by the balls.”

  John laughed again, quieter this time. “I am lucky,” he said.

  “You deserve it. So don’t screw it up.”

  “It’s got nothing to do with deserving it,” John said, surprisingly vehement. “If that was a factor the world would be a whole different rodeo. I’m lucky. I know it. I’m grateful.”

  “Me, too, buddy,” Sam said, feeling the lie churn in his guts. “I’m gonna go check out my new classroom soon. Get the lay of the land.”

  “Good. I meant it about visiting, though, so give it some thought.”

  “I will. Hey, that was fast. My burger’s here, amigo.”

  “Let me know how it’s going.”

  “Right. Say hey to your lady for me.”

  “And you say hey to Emma.”

  Sam hung up, putting his cell on the table. His food hadn’t arrived, just his tea. He drank some and tried not to regret the phone call. He was happy for John, dammit. But his jealousy was like a time-release acid tablet working its way through his system.

  John did deserve the life he had. He’d worked hard to get there. He’d gone the extra mile when most people would have just said the hell with it. But so had Danny. And so had Sam.