Luke set his jaw, emotion tightening his throat, threatening to overcome him. Swallowing back his howling grief, he reached into the private’s blood-soaked shirt pocket, pulled out a dripping folded piece of notepaper and slid it into the pants pocket of his scrubs. Then he looked back at the private to reassure him. But the boy was gone.
Luke gently closed the kid’s eyes.
Then the lights flickered and Luke felt hands clutching at him and bodies crushing him in. They tugged at him, pulling him in all directions. An Afghani National, a little Afghan boy, a burned woman and dozens of American soldiers, all dead, all blaming him.
LUKE AWOKE ON A STRANGLED cry. Breathing hard, he rolled off the bed, paced to the living room and stood at the balcony doors until the last vestiges of the dream faded.
He couldn’t stop shivering, so he trudged to the bathroom, splashed water on his face. He wasn’t getting better. He stared at his shaking hands and willed them to still. The tremors seemed to worsen. How could he suture a patient with these hands? My God. What if he couldn’t? How could he return to his unit if he couldn’t get himself under control? He’d be a disgrace to his colleagues, his superiors. “Coward.”
Spinning on his heel he punched the wall. The dog jumped and whimpered. Terrific. He’d dented the Sheetrock in John’s condo. Wow, he really was losing it. He’d be sure to remember to fix that wall before he left.
He hadn’t been out of the condo the past couple of days except to let the dog out into the back courtyard. Maybe he’d better get out of here before he did any more damage. He checked the clock. One forty-five. He could go down and be back before Kristen got home. After their first meeting, he’d bought a collar and leash for the mutt.
Running into her shouldn’t matter.
But it did.
He found himself on the beach, thankfully deserted this time of night, striding down the coast. Details of the nightmare came back to him, as real as if that private had died tonight. Why did these deaths haunt him? Even if Luke wasn’t serving in Afghanistan, fatalities were always a risk for a surgeon. What the hell was wrong with him?
A few more days of this and he’d have to resort to trying a sleep aid. He remembered Kristen’s suggestions. Massage therapy? Hypnosis? Would any of that really work?
Kristen.
He missed her.
Which was ridiculous. He barely knew her.
He slowed and came to a stop. He’d always been quiet. His mother used to say he thought too much. Left alone with his thoughts, especially lately, he could get morose. Kristen might’ve been embarrassed about hogging the conversation, but he’d liked it. She didn’t constantly ask him what he was thinking. And he hadn’t felt as if he had to make polite small talk with her. When he’d been around her, he hadn’t thought about death so much. Her smile and her chatter had kept him entranced, and her positive outlook had been contagious.
Without giving himself time to rethink it, he toed off his sneakers and stepped into the water, letting the waves splash around his ankles and calves, digging his toes into the wet sand. He kicked at the water and let the spray blow into his face. The dog thought this was a great game and barked and splashed around in the waves.
As a remedy for dark moods, this was working fairly well. Maybe there was something to Kristen’s advice. He closed his eyes and thought of her blond hair blowing in the breeze, of her blue eyes full of life and laughter smiling up at him. Why had he blown her off the other night? He couldn’t come up with one good reason now. Except that he was a colossal moron.
Striding out of the water, he grabbed up his sneakers and headed to the picnic table. He sat, leaned his elbows on the table behind him and dropped his head back to look at the stars. The dog decided to shake the water off his coat right next to Luke, spraying him with salty, hairy water. Now he needed to wait to be dry before going in.
His excuse paid off when he saw Kristen riding her bike down Kihei Road as usual. When she veered toward the condo he realized he’d expected her to leave her bike at the rack and head down to the beach. But she hadn’t.
He jumped up and jogged across the street after her. “Kristen,” he called out as he caught up to her.
She glanced behind her, swerved, and her front wheel hit the curb. The bike pitched forward and she screamed and flew off, headfirst.
Reflexes took over. Luke leaped to try to catch her just as she landed onto the grass. Her helmet knocked him on the chin and he lay there stunned, catching his breath. One of her elbows poked into his ribs. Then she shifted and her elbow was replaced with soft, cushiony breasts. His body reacted and he bit back a groan.
His arms were around her and he could feel her bra strap under her T-shirt beneath one palm and a smooth thigh beneath the other. If he slid his hand up a couple inches higher his fingers could caress the soft flesh under the hem of her shorts. He closed his eyes and willed his erection to go away.
How sick was that when she could be hurt? “Are you all right?” He began a rudimentary examination of the bones in her arms and wrists. Nothing felt broken.
“Luke?” She raised her head, unsnapped her helmet and pulled it off. Her hair fell across his face until she turned her head to face him. As he drew a breath, the fragrance of wild berries invaded his senses, attached itself to his bloodstream and shot straight to his groin. Her shampoo.
She looked stunned. “What are you doing here?” Her voice quivered and he snapped back to reality.
“Does anything hurt?”
“I’m fine.” She lifted off him and he had to quell the urge to not let her go.
As she sat up, so did he, taking note of how she favored her left shoulder. “You are hurt.” He gently explored her clavicle and she winced.
“It doesn’t feel broken. On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain?”
She chuckled. “I’m fine, Doc. Just bruised.” She gingerly got to her feet and Luke hurriedly stood and tried to help her, his arm curving around her waist.
“Careful. You could have other injuries.”
“Nah. You broke my fall.” She started brushing off grass and dirt, and, reluctantly, he dropped his arm. “What about you? Are you hurt?”
He could feel a few sore areas that would probably bruise, but otherwise he was fine. “If I hadn’t scared you, you wouldn’t have fallen.” He bent to haul up her bike and inspect the damage. The front wheel was mangled. “Looks like I owe you a new bicycle.”
“Oh, no!” She stared at her crooked front wheel. “Well, maybe it can be fixed. Anyway, I bought it secondhand.” She looked up from the wheel rim to meet his gaze. “So…were you out here waiting for me?”
Her light blue eyes seemed to pierce straight into the deepest part of him. What did she see? “I guess I was.” He swallowed, feeling like a first-class jerk. “I don’t suppose you’d give me a second chance and have dinner with me tomorrow night?”
Her brows rose. “I work tomorrow night.”
“Oh, right.” He nodded. “Of course. I understand.” He waved a hand. “Let me help you get this inside.” He picked up the bike by its frame and headed for the condo’s lobby.
“Luke,” she called, not moving.
“Yeah?” He stopped and half turned.
Her teeth flashed in a quick grin. “Come with me on the boat in the morning.”
“IN THE MORNING” actually meant about four hours later. But Luke wasn’t complaining. He wouldn’t have slept anyway. She’d asked for his cell number and given him hers just in case he changed his mind.
But he wouldn’t have.
As they approached a large fishing boat, Kristen cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Permission to come aboard?”
A tall, native Hawaiian stepped out of the cabin, smiled at Kristen and waved them on board. Ho`opono was painted on the hull in bold black letters. Kristen told Luke it was Hawaiian for Faithful. Once they’d boarded, Kristen introduced Kekoa to Luke as her dive partner and boat driver.
K
ekoa shook his hand. Firmly. And there was a glint in his eye, as if he were sizing Luke up. Was the guy trying to establish a prior claim? Then he noticed a redhead with long legs sitting on a cushioned seat in the stern of the boat. Kristen introduced her as her friend and coworker, Amy Burrows. Luke vaguely recalled Kristen talking about her friend the other night. But not the particulars. Amy got lazily to her feet to shake his hand with a conspiratorial grin, picked up a basket of muffins then disappeared behind Kekoa into the cabin.
Kristen cast off the stern- and bowlines and within minutes they were in open sea.
Luke tugged his U.S. Army ball cap down tighter against the wind. He hadn’t been out on the ocean since he was a kid and his family had rented a beach house one summer in Galveston. That had been a lifetime ago.
But the salty sea spray hitting his face and the boat slamming down against the choppy waves started a video playing in his head of that carefree time in his life. When his father had still been alive. The kind of joyful existence he’d like to attain in his life now, but seemed so far beyond his reach he wouldn’t know how to start.
“Have you ever seen such crystal clear water?” Kristen appeared beside him against the railing at the rear of the boat, staring out across the ocean. She was using her hand to shade her face, but her eyes and nose were still adorably scrunched against the sun. Without makeup this morning she looked so fresh, so natural, he wanted to soak in her wholesomeness and save it for the lonely dark of night.
Luke shook his head. “Where are we headed?” He had to shout over the roar of the motor.
“Molokini Crater.” She caught a lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail blowing across her face and tucked it behind her ear. She motioned for him to follow her and headed around the cabin to the front of the boat. Then she squinted one eye and pointed. “You can just see the crescent-shaped formation ahead.”
Luke was more interested in staring at her in a short, black wet suit that hugged her body and showed every womanly curve. An image flashed in his mind of his hands caressing his way down and around those curves.
She turned back to face him and he jerked his gaze out to the rock she’d pointed at. “Um, so, that’s where the humpbacks are?”
“Sometimes. But Molokini is mostly famous for snorkeling. I told Kekoa we’d go there since you and Amy are with us today. It’s a partially submerged volcanic crater, and inside the rim you can see the most gorgeous fish and coral, mantas, eels, even a few spinner dolphins. Kekoa has extra snorkeling equipment on board if you want to go in.”
“I’d like that.”
“Afterward, I’m going to dive the Backside. About eighty feet down are some rare species of fish, plus white-tipped sharks. The water is so clear—”
“Hold on a minute.” Luke had to interrupt her there. “Did you just say sharks?” Hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
“Oh, the shark caves are down about a hundred and twenty feet. It’s the current I have to worry about.”
And this was supposed to make him feel better? “Have you dived here before?”
“Of course. Well, not the Backside, but I’ll be fine. Kekoa dives with me and he’s very safety conscious, believe me. Oh, we’re almost there. Good. There’s only one other boat here so far. I better go tell him where I want to tie the moorings. We don’t drop anchor because of the coral.”
As Kristen disappeared into the cabin, Amy came out and approached him. “Hey, I brought muffins, if you’re hungry. Blueberry, banana and cinnamon.”
“Thanks. I’m good for now.”
She leaned her forearms on the railing, but turned her head to look at him. “I’m so glad you came today, too.”
“Why is that?” Luke couldn’t help but notice the redhead wore makeup and had a pair of expensive-looking sunglasses on top of her head holding her long hair off her face. But it still blew wildly in the wind.
“Kekoa is diving with Kris, and I don’t want to sit up here all alone.” She pouted pretty red lips.
Aah. He nodded.
She wore a pair of white short shorts and a red halter that bared her midriff and a good portion of her cleavage. Plus a very impractical pair of wedged high heels. The motor sputtered off and the boat drifted to a stop in the bay. With her height and the way she was bent over leaning on the railing, Luke would’ve had to be blind or gay not to notice her ample breasts. But he got the feeling she wasn’t trying to be overtly sexy, it just seemed to be her style.
“Do you come out here often with them?”
Amy shook her head. “Never been. I’ve been begging Kris to take me for weeks. Do you dive?”
“No. I’ve never had the time. You?”
She shuddered. “I think I’d get claustrophobic with that mask over my nose and that breathing thingy in my mouth.”
“So, no snorkeling either?”
She shook her head.
“Then I guess we’re stuck watching the boat.”
“Oh, don’t let me keep you from snorkeling,” Amy said.
“Kekoa can keep Amy company while you and I go.” Kristen appeared behind Luke and he shifted to face her. “In fact, I don’t even have to dive today. I could just snorkel with you.”
The concern in her eyes, so blue they put these tropical waters to shame, baffled him. Would she actually forgo her diving just for him? “Don’t you have a contest to win?”
“Well…yeah.”
After his father died, Luke had been determined to become a doctor. There was no money for college, much less medical school. Still, he’d found a way to make it happen. And he proudly served his country for the education the Army had given him.
He stepped close and gripped her shoulders in his hands. “Don’t let anyone keep you from your goal.”
She tilted her head and blinked. The next thing he knew, her hands were cupping his face and her mouth touched his and was gone again. When he opened his eyes she was smiling up at him. “Thank you.”
His lips tingled. His body hardened. He wanted to pull her against him and show her what a real kiss could be like between them. Before he could put the thought into action Kekoa called to her and she swiveled away and grabbed her diving equipment.
KRISTEN FELT THE PRESSURE of the water closing in on her as she neared eighty feet. She’d descended slowly to acclimate, using a line from the boat, and had been snapping photos of the vivid coral and anemone growing on the reef for about—she checked her oxygen level—ten minutes while she made her way to this depth.
Schools of brightly colored fish darted everywhere and a ray swam lazily by. Kristen let go of the rope and moved closer to the reef. As she swam around the curve in the formation to the Backside, the current got stronger. She took her reef hook, secured herself to the reef and then let the current take her a bit farther along the crater, captivated by the natural shelves formed in the rock.
Her camera at the ready, she snapped photos of red sponge, orange tube coral and a few iridescent jellyfish.
She gasped. A crown-of-thorns starfish! So rare. This might be her winning photo. If she could get just the perfect angle and lighting. She looked back at Kekoa and signaled her intent to move farther around. He nodded and followed.
Holding on to an outcropping of rock, she tugged her reef hook out so she could get closer to the starfish, carefully moved to her right and reattached her hook. But as she drifted toward the starfish, the reef crumbled beneath her hook and before she could blink, the powerful current swept her away.
After allowing one curse word in her head, she tried to stay calm. Panicking wouldn’t help.
Instead, she swam for her life, fighting the current for every foot back to where Kekoa waited. But she wasn’t even maintaining her position. Kekoa was getting farther and farther away and the panic she was trying to hold at bay was rising in her chest.
Keep swimming. It will be okay.
Kekoa was pulling his cave line from his retractor. Making a loop at the end, he sent it into the current.
She’d probably only have one shot to grab it. If she missed, she’d be carried away trying for it, and the line was only five-hundred feet.
As it shot toward her she reached out and snatched it, then tightened the loop around one arm. After allowing for a moment to rest and her breathing to calm, she pulled herself along the taut rope. Kekoa held on to the rough rock with both hands, not willing to risk it crumbling from his hook, also. The retractor tugged at his belt.
Finally she made it to him and they swam for safer water. Her heart raced at the close call. She signaled Kekoa her thanks and he gestured that he wanted to surface. She nodded. Her ragged breathing was using up all her oxygen, anyway.
Waiting those two minutes to equalize before surfacing had never seemed to take so long. As she yanked off her fins, mask and regulator, she grabbed the lower rungs of the Ho`opono’s ladder. Her muscles felt like jelly and she couldn’t catch a breath. Now that the crisis had passed, she started shaking uncontrollably. She couldn’t make her muscles pull her up the ladder.
“Luke?” Geez, was that her voice all wobbly?
His head appeared over the side of the boat. “Kristen? What’s the matter? Are you all right?”
She tried to rein in her terror as he extended his hand to help her up the ladder.
The last few rungs, he grasped her under the arms and hauled her up onto the deck. Even with all her heavy equipment he lifted her as if she weighed nothing.
Embarrassingly, her knees buckled when she tried to stand and she fell into his arms. He took her regulator from her shaking hand, pulled off her mask and wrapped his arms around her. She laid her cheek against his hard, warm chest. His biceps strained beneath her hands. She felt home, secure, cared for.
A girl could get used to that.
She drew in a deep breath, then let out a long sigh and tried to stop shivering. But she tightened her hold.
“Are you all right?” He moved his hands beneath her arms and pushed her away to study her face. His thumbs rubbed along the sides of her breasts. Another sensation entirely now robbed her of speech. How could any woman think straight while he did that?
Once a Hero... Page 4