by Knupp, Amy
Noah sucked in air as if this were his last chance to breathe. Tension pulled at every muscle in his body. The positive effects of his run had long since disappeared. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“I was in a pretty dangerous area with the lead physician one day.” He couldn’t tell her why they’d been there or what their purpose had been without revealing more than he wanted to. “He and I ran into a group of rebels who didn’t want us hanging around, so we split up, trying to get away without getting hurt. I came upon a young girl, lying by the side of the road, weak, not moving. What little clothing she had was tattered. She’d been beaten badly.
“At first I thought she was dead, but when I touched her to check for a pulse she stirred. I forgot everything else. I just had to get her back to the medical camp, where we could try to help her.”
Noah covered his face with his hands. “The rebels had guns. Grenades. Knives.”
“You were unarmed?” Katie asked.
He nodded. “Corps policy.” He closed his eyes. “I couldn’t see them, but I knew they were still watching me, daring me to help her. Using her as bait. I walked down the road away from her and waited, keeping an eye on her from behind a rock. When I thought I’d outwaited them, I snuck back. There was no cover where she lay, so I had to move quickly.”
He stopped for a moment to compose himself. “I was afraid she’d die before I could do anything. Selfishly, I didn’t want that on my conscience. Didn’t want to have the memory of her, alone, dying slowly because I was incapable of helping her.
“So I picked her up, praying her spine was okay, since I couldn’t check before moving her. She was semiconscious and her pulse was weak. She weighed almost nothing. I remember thinking that. She’s so light. I won’t have any trouble getting her back to camp.
“I was almost out of range when they opened fire.”
“You were hit,” Katie said in a quiet voice, barely keeping a lid on her own emotions.
“My right thigh. I didn’t realize it right away. The pain was so bad it went numb. Then it burned. As if it was on fire.”
“What did you do?” She moved closer on the bench.
“The only thing I could do. Kept going. I thought if I stopped, I’d be shot and killed. I was scared out of my mind.” He sat up straighter, leaning back against the table again and clenching his jaw. “So you see, no bravery involved. No heroism. It was simply fear that motivated me. Fear for myself. Cowardice, really.”
She shook her head. “Fear, yes. Cowardice? I don’t think so.”
“I’ve never been in so much pain in my life.” And that didn’t even begin to describe the emotional horror from earlier in the day.
“How far was it back to camp?”
“A mile, give or take. It could’ve been a lot worse.”
He stared in front of him, remembering the day clearly, reliving it. “When I got back, when that photo was taken, I was so out of it that I barely knew my name. Two of my colleagues rushed to take care of the child. I remember that. Remember being thankful she was no longer my responsibility, because I couldn’t do a thing for her.”
“You’d already saved her life.”
“They didn’t realize I was injured at first. My mouth was so dry I couldn’t speak. Then someone saw the blood. Things got blurry after that.”
Katie moved closer still. She took one of his hands in hers, resting them on his leg. “If you’re trying to prove to me you’re not a hero, you’ve failed.” She smiled sadly. “What you did... That was the best example of a hero I’ve ever heard.”
He shook his head, ready to argue, but she held up her hand.
“Listen to me, Noah. You were scared out of your wits. You said it yourself. But what did you do? You risked your life to make sure that girl didn’t lose hers. You did it because you felt you had to.”
“I did have to.”
“Not everyone would feel that way.”
“Could you have left her lying there?”
“I don’t know what I’d have done. I’m not so sure I wouldn’t have just run for dear life.”
“Don’t look at me like that.” He broke eye contact, focusing instead on their hands. He absently caressed hers with his thumb, thinking nothing of the intimate gesture.
“Like what?”
“Like you think you’re right and I’m wrong. I’m not a hero, Katie. It doesn’t matter what you say.”
“Heroism isn’t based on whether you’re scared, Noah. You don’t have to set out to be a hero. It’s all about how you react in the heat of the moment. You do what comes instinctively, without ever thinking, ‘Gotta do something heroic here.’” She paused. “You passed the test. A lot of people wouldn’t have.”
He stood, uncomfortable with her words. He realized now, the only way he could convince her how wrong she was would be to tell her the rest—what had happened to Leah just before he’d found the child. And he wasn’t about to do that.
He’d set out to shut her down, but now she’d twisted things and was more certain than ever that he deserved some kind of award. The thought made him queasy, because it was so far from the truth. “I should go. It’s getting late and you need to go home and go to bed.”
“Now you’re being a coward,” Katie said with a half grin.
“Look, I haven’t told many people that story at all.” He straddled the bench, too, facing her. “It probably sounds strange, but I don’t like people to know what happened. I don’t like to talk about it. Other things occurred that day that I can’t go into, but if you knew, you would change your mind about me.”
Katie studied him closely wondering what else might have happened. Maybe he’d tell her that, too, later. For now, though, she’d have to be satisfied. It was obvious he wasn’t in the habit of sharing anything about his African nightmare. “I’m not going to tell anyone any of what you said.”
“You’re not going to call the press, anyway? Or tip off your dad?”
“I said I wouldn’t. For all the many faults you think I have, breaking my word isn’t one of them.”
“Thank you.” He rose from the bench, clearly ill-at-ease. “I have to head out. Please go home and sleep some more.”
“Right behind you,” she said, not moving. Her mind was racing a hundred miles per hour, trying to process everything he’d said. “Noah...”
He stopped and turned toward her.
“Thank you for telling me.”
He stared at her for several seconds, then nodded once and headed for the parking lot. Slowly, shoulders sagging.
Katie watched him unlock the Tahoe and climb inside. Heard the engine start, saw him back out and waste no time getting out of there.
She was reeling from his revelations. Her imagination was in overdrive as she replayed the story he’d shared. There was no doubt about it, he was a hero.
She didn’t want to be impressed by anything he’d said, didn’t want to gain respect for him. They weren’t friends. They had nothing in common.
But she couldn’t help herself. She saw him differently now. Understood a little better why he was uptight and serious. She felt empathy for him—how could she not?
Begging him to talk had been a mistake, she realized. Despite her curiosity, she didn’t like knowing something that private about someone she didn’t know well. It made her uncomfortable.
The only thing worse would be if she let him in on something that was just as personal to her.
She rose, deciding to push Noah and his story from her mind and do her best to forget about all of it. It didn’t concern her, and he didn’t like her knowing, anyway.
They would both just pretend they’d never had this conversation.
CHAPTER SIX
“I AM GOING TO hang you by your ears, Noah
David Fletcher.” His mom called out to him the moment he shut the back door.
He really needed to move out of his parents’ home, he thought for the hundredth time as he shuffled toward his bedroom. His run had worn him out on its own, then his conversation with Katie had drained him completely. His emotions had been thoroughly wrung out just by voicing one part of what he’d experienced in the Congo.
“What’d I do now, Mom?” he hollered. He wasn’t even sure what part of the house she was in, but her threat had been loud enough he could’ve heard it from a boat on the river a hundred yards away.
She suddenly appeared in his doorway. “Housekeeping services?” Her tone was that of a horrified, deeply insulted woman.
Noah cringed. He’d had every intention of mentioning that to her ahead of time, but apparently he’d gotten the days confused. “I thought they weren’t supposed to be here until Friday.”
“I don’t care what day it is. What was that little stunt about, young man?”
He had to stifle a smile, hearing again the term she’d always used when he’d been in trouble. “Just trying to help, Mom. No one can keep this house like you do, but I just thought you could use your time on so many other things.”
“That’s one hundred percent hooey, Noah.”
“Besides, while I’m living here, I should help with the chores. This was supposed to be my contribution, since I’m never home enough to do much.” Not to mention, she was a little militant about keeping things clean. He never got the chance to help with anything because she’d already done it all.
Her mouth actually hung open, then she shook her head. “Have you heard the term overkill before?”
“Would it be so bad for you to have a little help?”
“You think I’m some old lady who can’t handle it anymore, don’t you?”
He threw up his hands. “I think nothing of the sort.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. He could see a difference in how she handled things, how she’d begun to slow down. While he knew she was perfectly capable of running the house and taking care of it, he didn’t want her to feel that she had to. Maybe it was irrational of him. But he didn’t want her to work herself to death.
“You are to call the Helpful Housekeepers and tell them to keep their mops to themselves. I won’t have anyone waltzing around my house cleaning up after my family.”
“You can cancel it after I move out.”
“And when will that be? I have half a mind to kick you out tonight.”
That actually made Noah chuckle, which wasn’t easy to do these days. His mom had to be the only person on the face of the earth to ever be ticked off about the offer of free maid service.
He slowly moved closer and then hugged her. “I love it when you try to act tough.”
“Cancel them.” Without returning the affection, she marched off to the kitchen to cook dinner. Noah considered hiring a cook, just for the fun of watching her get bent out of shape again.
He shut his door. Grabbing the magazine Katie had given him earlier that day, he headed for the bathroom and turned the water on for a shower. As he waited for the water to warm up, he flipped the pages until he found the article she’d mentioned. She was the author and also the subject of most of the pictures.
His eyes were drawn to the photos. Her hair was pulled back on her head with loose strands falling into her face. The later in the ride or jump or...whatever one called a hang-gliding session, the more random wisps of hair there were. Her face was free of makeup, her complexion smooth, soft-looking. She smiled and her eyes sparkled with excitement in just about every picture, even when she was floating above the earth with what looked like minimal control over her situation.
He began reading the article and was soon engaged by her writing, in spite of his distaste for the subject. After a few minutes, he turned off the shower and wandered back to his room, flopping onto the bed to keep reading.
When he finished the story, he paged through the rest of the issue, looking for other writing by or about Katie, but found nothing. So he turned back to the beginning of her article again. He skimmed through it a second time and had no trouble acknowledging the fact that she was a talented writer.
The truth of the matter was she scared him. Zest for life was one thing, but the activities she pursued in the course of her job were senseless and dangerous. He didn’t understand for a minute why someone would actually seek out ways to flirt with injury or death. Wasn’t there enough chance of that without trying to fly?
She was a contradiction. Intelligent, a gifted writer who had the knack of making you feel as if you were right there next to her, experiencing the daredevil stunt of the day along with her, and yet she didn’t value her life enough to take care of herself and try to stay safe. She thought nothing of stepping off a cliff with some sort of winged contraption strapped onto her.
He didn’t understand it. Didn’t understand her.
And he’d unwisely confided in her a part of the worst day of his life. He regretted opening up at all. It hadn’t convinced her that he was not a hero. Now she would act differently toward him—as if they shared a secret.
It was a puzzling situation. Obviously something had moved him to confide in her, despite the fact that he’d had no intention of doing so. He’d have to raise his guard if he ran into her again. He had no business getting any closer to this attractive woman who clearly lacked sanity and sense.
* * *
“WHAT IF YOU AND MICHAEL bought Dad’s house?” Katie asked Savannah, trying to sound nonchalant. She sat cross-legged on the bed as Savannah rushed around her bedroom getting ready to go out. Savannah had always been contrary, and if she thought Katie really cared about something, she was generally inclined to do the exact opposite. Savannah dropped the silver hoop earring she’d been trying to put on and bent down to retrieve it. “Why would we do that?”
“Because it’s the family house. Because Dad wants to move out.”
“Noah Fletcher’s already interested in it.”
“Exactly.” It made Katie’s stomach hurt. It didn’t matter how she felt about what he’d revealed to her. She still didn’t want to see him move into their house.
“So...I don’t understand the problem. Dad wants to sell. Dr. Fletcher may want to buy. How and why would that concern me?”
“You’re jumping to conclusions that he’ll buy it.”
“There are exactly three houses for sale in Lone Oak—I checked. The other two are a tiny broken-down dump and an isolated farmhouse. If he wants to buy something normal, he’ll grab ours.”
Katie tried to keep the panic from showing on her face. “That’s why you should move fast.”
“I think I’m missing something here. Why would we want to compete with someone who wants to buy the house?”
“It’s the Salinger home, Savannah. It’s been ours for more than twenty years. Don’t you think it should stay in the family?”
“If you’re so in love with the Salinger homestead, why don’t you shell out the bucks for it?” Savannah hurried off to the kitchen, apparently not taking Katie’s suggestion seriously. Katie followed her.
She had given thought to buying it herself. Maybe even seeing if her dad would work out a rent-to-own deal, since she was in no position to plunk down a couple hundred big ones or even come up with a down payment. Mostly, though, it came down to the fact that her job, her dream job, was in St. Louis. Not Lone Oak. She didn’t want to live here. There was nothing here for her except the house.
But she wanted to be able to come back when she needed to, wanted to have a home. A place where everything was so familiar that she could see it in her sleep.
“I live in St. Louis. You already live here. Already own a house. All it would mean for you is moving about three blocks away to a place with a lot more room. Not exactly a hardship
.” She hopped up on the kitchen counter. “Would you guys at least consider it?”
Savannah shot her an annoyed look. “No.”
“Just like that? You won’t even talk to Michael about it?”
“Katie, what is up with you? Why are you being so weird about the house?”
“I’m just trying to keep it in the family. Why is that weird?”
Spilling to her dad about her feelings had been bad enough. She wasn’t about to share her anxieties with Savannah and endure the inevitable ridicule. Savannah had never needed any special bait to tell her how odd or emotional she was.
“It’s a pile of wood and brick. Just a building, Katie.”
Katie leaned her head against the upper cabinets. “I know you don’t get it,” she said quietly to Savannah. “I don’t like seeing it go to strangers. It’s our house. You won’t even ask Michael?”
Savannah reached into the kitchen junk drawer and pulled out a babysitter information sheet that Katie already knew by heart. Then she turned around and leaned against the countertop, avoiding Katie’s eyes, suddenly seeming unsure of herself. For Savannah, that was significant.
“It’s not a good time for the two of us to make any major decisions.”
Katie opened her eyes wider. “Are you two having problems?”
“Michael’s got so much extra work right now, and the kids are keeping me busy with their activities...”
“Savannah. You didn’t answer my question.”
Savannah cracked a single knuckle. A sure sign she was upset. Between the knuckle and the avoidance, Katie wondered exactly what was up.
“Katie, I said it’s not a good time. Don’t go making it into a federal case.”
Katie studied Savannah, noticed, again, the rings under her eyes, the look of fatigue that might be more than the usual mom-of-two-kids kind. Savannah saw her paying such close attention and turned away abruptly.
“The kids haven’t had a snack yet, so be sure to give them one in a little while. Logan can’t have—”
“Anything with dairy. I know, Savannah.”