by Grady, D. R.
No. The answer came fast and furiously – inexplicable and firm. She didn’t know if she could live without him. Sure, his hours couldn’t be worse but she wanted him in her life. Yet she had wanted her father in her life too, needed him in fact, and he’d still been taken from her. Abruptly. Could she stand losing another precious man from her life?
The hyenas had stopped talking and eating and instead stared, aghast at Mitch and Lainy. Lainy set her plate aside and brushed her hands down the front of his shirt in a loving, wifely gesture. The lights overhead caught in the diamond rings on her finger and splashed dazzling light across the room. Mitch grinned in a smug sort of way, and kept touching her face, or running his hand over her hair.
Like he couldn’t believe she was his. They were going on their third wedding anniversary, but Treeny loved how they were still so much in love. Max and KC acted the same way.
“I thought men didn’t date intelligent women,” Sonya said weakly.
Having heard enough, Treeny stalked to their table. “Oh, real men definitely date intelligent women. Then they marry them,” she stated, without a hint of malice even.
She took in their shocked expressions with something akin to glee before turning to head back to the table where Mitch was seating Lainy. He still hadn’t managed to keep his hands off her. His wedding band was very obvious in the overhead lights. Grinning in triumph, she set her plate down and slid into her chair.
“What have you done?” Lainy sounded suspicious.
Treeny found it difficult to keep the innocent expression on her face. “Nothing,” she answered, noting her voice sounded a bit high.
Lainy narrowed her eyes. “Treeny Deveau, what have you done?” Her friend’s eyes slid from her sure-to-be-guilty face to the table behind them across the restaurant. Treeny knew she recognized Alana and Sonya as being former classmates.
“Oh lovely, we’re dining with a couple of ex-cheerleaders.” Her voice sounded easy, and as close to uncaring as Treeny had ever heard in Lainy’s voice.
“They received a real shock when Mitch strolled in,” Treeny confided as she shook out her napkin.
Lainy frowned, but her eyes followed her husband and smiled when he caught her watching him from across the buffet station where he selected food. She blew him a kiss and he looked awfully happy.
“What happened?” Lainy flirted with Mitch, but Treeny thought she was listening.
“They were discussing you.”
Lainy broke off from flirting with her husband to swing round to Treeny. “What?”
“They were saying about how you were a nerd, and they were definitely jealous of the rock, I mean the ring on your finger.”
Both their gazes landed on Lainy’s engagement ring. “It is rather large, isn’t it?” The matching diamond encrusted wedding band wasn’t any less obvious. Lainy grinned. “Did they think a fellow nerd had given it to me?”
“Of course. And we all know that’s true. You only think Mitch is all hot Marine at first.” Treeny had to tease him, it was the Morrison way.
“I am a hot Marine,” Mitch retorted as he set his plate down, brushed a kiss on Lainy’s nose, and seated himself. He flicked a bratty grin at Treeny.
“Yeah, well, we who know you’re an engineer also know you’re a nerd.” Treeny avoided his swiping finger. Mitch had learned quickly from Lainy’s brothers and Ben the fine art of picking and harassing.
“So they figured a fellow nerd gave me my ring and then they saw Mitch?” A grin twitched at Lainy’s lips.
Treeny dodged Mitch’s finger again and nodded. “Yep, they were drooling all over the floor when he came in. They were satisfyingly shocked.” She sat back and crossed her arms. Treeny tried not to act all superior.
“What did you say to them?” Lainy sounded suspicious again.
“I simply set them straight on a few things.”
Mitch laughed, and leaned over to plant an affectionate kiss on her forehead. Lainy had to smother her laughter, which sounded as though it might be raucous if unchecked, with a quick hand. The lights caught in her rings again. “Oh, Treeny,” she said, but her eyes were snapping with laughter and glee.
“I did good.” Treeny scooped up a bite of chicken.
“Yes,” Mitch agreed, and he high-fived her. Treeny liked the way he looked at Lainy. As though she were some treasure that had been dropped unexpectedly into his lap.
“Janine mentioned Ben has been gone for a few days?” Lainy sent her a commiserating look.
Treeny suddenly didn’t want any of the remaining food on her plate. Her stomach lurched in protest at the very thought.
She set her fork down. “Yes.”
Mitch’s eyes softened. “He’ll contact you as soon as he’s home, you know that, right?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Trust us; you’re the first person he’ll find.” Lainy’s voice held a conviction Treeny wished she possessed.
Mitch set his own fork down after staring at her for a few moments. “I can tell you from experience, Treeny, that his mind might not be on you the entire time he’s been gone, but he’s thinking about you.” He picked up his fork again. “And he’s counting down the minutes until he’s got you back in his arms.”
“Thank you for that.” Treeny swallowed before she turned to Lainy. “Does it get any easier?”
Lainy reached out to cover Treeny’s hand with her own. “No.”
Treeny’s heart plummeted to the floor. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
“You’re always going to worry about him. You’re always going to hate every minutes he’s away from you and you don’t know when he’ll be back.” Lainy swallowed, hard. “Or if,” her voice turned husky and cracked, and Treeny realized Lainy understood exactly what she was suffering. “Or if he’ll be back.” Mitch caught her close and pressed a gentle kiss to Lainy’s lips.
Treeny brushed a tear away. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Treeny,” Mitch leaned toward her and covered Lainy’s hand which still covered hers, “if it’s Ben’s time, it won’t matter where he is or what he’s doing. It will be over for him. But you have to trust him. Trust in his skills.”
“I don’t even know what his skills are.”
“We have some books you can borrow. After you read them, you might appreciate a little more what Ben and his team can do.” Mitch sounded confident so that made Treeny’s stomach stop protesting so violently.
“I hate that I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing.”
“That will be something you’re going to have to work through. Maybe Ben can help you figure out some techniques to help you endure.”
Treeny turned to Lainy. “How did you cope when Mitch left for those long periods?”
“I worked. I took pictures for him, made videos, sent him a ton of emails with little thoughts I wanted to share with him.” Lainy turned her hand so she was holding Mitch’s.
“It’s not easy, and we military folk understand what we’re asking of you, but Ben has a job to do, one few others are capable of.”
How true. She hadn’t thought of that. “Not many other people get through SEAL training, do they?”
“No, they don’t.” There was a wealth of understanding in Mitch’s eyes. But also a silent plea for her to work through this in a way that wouldn’t burden Ben.
But how to do that? Treeny didn’t know. Yet a firm resolve wrapped itself around her to figure out some way to cope. She owed it to Ben.
“Yes, I will do that.”
It wasn’t until she turned to face her lunch companions that she noticed she didn’t have their attention any longer. Mitch’s hand reached out to run lovingly over Lainy’s face. Lainy turned to kiss his palm. Her eyes grew warm and soft. Treeny’s eyes rolled.
“Hey, now, guys. Quit the mooney-eyed stuff,” Treeny exclaimed and snapped her fingers at them. She pointed to their plates. “Eat!”
But in the back of her mind was the pertinent fact t
hat they’d survived nearly the same situation she faced. There were similarities, at least. Look where they are now, a little voice piped up in the back of her mind. And Treeny did look, long and clearly.
Happily married with a toddler and another baby on the way. Both of them so in love with the other it was heartening (and a little sickening) to watch. She wanted that. Treeny wanted to be in love like they were. With Ben. Even if that meant she’d have to live with a fear so great it was paralyzing.
The biggest question was could she?
Chapter 12
“What have we got?” Janine raced to the stretcher as she asked. Her eyes roved over the injured man.
“Looks like he went through a meat packer,” the paramedic said wryly.
She glanced over the patient more critically this time. To her, it looked like he’d managed to step a little too close to a bomb. But the meat packer thought also worked.
The paramedic said, “Car accident out on Route 81. Hit a guard rail and went over.”
Frowning, she assessed his wounds again. They certainly didn’t look like car accident wounds. She had seen enough combat wounds, bombing ones in particular, to doubt that verdict. Maybe he was in a car when they found him, but these injuries weren’t synonymous with those of an auto accident.
She read his identity tag and the name Michael Lamont, but when she looked the man in the face, she made a startling discovery. Michael Lamont looked like an older, male version of a familiar face. KC Gilmore Morrison’s face, to be exact. His face was covered in blood and in need of stitches, but still the man looked like a Gilmore.
“Are you sure of this identification?” Janine stared the paramedic down.
“The only thing we’re sure about is that we’re not sure of anything, Dr. Morris,” he answered laconically, and Janine suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.
She ignored their antics and instead went to work on the man. After a thorough assessment of his injuries, she determined he should have died from his wounds. She didn’t know many people who could sustain the extensive injuries he sported and still live.
Her eyes floated back to his face. The man still reminded her strongly of KC. Especially since she cleaned some of the blood off and had a better view now. Since the tour of Kuwait she had shared with KC, she had seen her friend’s face often enough to know a Gilmore when she saw one.
Glancing up as a nurse entered the room, Janine made a request. “Melissa, please see if you can locate Dr. KC Morrison at Gilmore Products and have her come here. She’s a surgeon who fills in for us in emergencies.” Janine tacked on at the last, hoping to alleviate suspicions among the staff.
They hopefully wouldn’t put the two faces together, because KC’s would be glowing from love and marriage and motherhood. She suspected it would also be clean. While this man’s, Michael Lamont’s, probably had never glowed even if it wasn’t covered in blood and muck from the “accident”. But KC could also confirm her suspicions as to the nature of Michael Lamont’s injuries. If this man was Michael Lamont.
She began repairing the worst of his injuries. She hoped she could repair all of them, but even she was dubious. During one of her tours of Kuwait, she’d operated on an unfortunate Marine who triggered an IED (improvised explosive device). She had assessed his chances of survival as better than this man’s. It had depressed and saddened her when she lost that patient. Unfortunately, it hadn’t surprised her.
“Janine, I came as soon as I received your message,” KC said, as she raced through the door. She had scrubbed up and held her hands in such a way Janine knew she was also sterile and therefore ready for work.
“Thanks for coming, KC. My first question,” Janine started but darted a look around the room. She couldn’t figure out why she didn’t want anyone to overhear her conversation with KC, but she did. “Carol, could you please go assist Dr. Kassing? Now that Dr. Morrison is here, we can manage.”
“Certainly, Doctor,” the bemused nurse said, but she willingly left the room.
Turning, Janine saw her friend’s eyebrow had all but disappeared, so high was it raised. “Sorry, KC but take a look at this man. Take a look at his wounds. Recognize them?”
KC stared at her for another moment, before she turned and stared at the man. She frowned before looking the injuries over more thoroughly. “Janine, he looks like he got in the way of an IED or a land mine.” Like Janine, KC kept her voice down.
“That’s what I thought. But we’d have heard if there was a bomb explosion in Hershey,” she said as KC lifted confused eyes to her. Janine continued, feeling KC’s confusion. “The paramedics said he was involved in a car accident out on Route 81, but he wasn’t injured in a car accident.”
“Well, he could have been, but I’d bet he was bleeding long before he had an accident.” KC glanced casually at his face.
Janine saw her eyes widen before KC turned stricken eyes back to her.
“Why ... how?” KC sounded as dazed as she looked. She moved robotically forward and stared down at the man on the stretcher.
“Do you know this man, KC?” Janine kept her voice quiet, but judging from KC’s reaction, she had to believe the man whose identification read Michael Lamont was not, indeed, Michael Lamont.
“Janine,” KC whispered, “this is Greg, my brother.” Janine heard the anguish in her friend’s voice and closed her eyes for a moment.
Suspicions confirmed. “I’m sorry, KC.”
KC moved to his side and ran her gloved hand over his face. “Greg,” she whispered, smoothing back his hair. Which was a light shade of brown, several colors removed from KC’s very blonde hair. Still, their facial structure and even body structure were similar.
The man’s eyes popped open and Janine gasped soundlessly. Blue eyes identical to KC’s stared straight into KC’s. She was at the wrong angle, but she thought, for the extent of his injuries, that his gaze was intense. Something passed between the pair, something Janine couldn’t read, or didn’t understand.
KC turned to Janine. “This man isn’t my brother.”
Janine felt one of her own eyebrows disappear at that whopper. This man and woman were so like siblings, they could have been twins. KC didn’t appear to notice her reaction, but her friend shook her head when she repeated that she didn’t know the patient.
A patient who shouldn’t have regained consciousness in the first place. Who was this man? Besides KC’s brother, despite the woman’s insistence he wasn’t. He had done something before lapsing back into unconsciousness to make KC lie to her.
Janine figured she’d pull little information from him, even if he was conscious. His sister might prove easier, even though KC’s mouth now formed a grim line. Since Janine had witnessed that exact same stubborn expression in the past, she knew better than to press her luck right at the moment.
Briskly, she fell back onto something she knew. Doctoring. If KC and this man didn’t want to claim each other, fine. She believed them as much as she believed a rooster had mammary glands, but whatever.
Right now her top priority was to patch him up where she could. Taking him into the operating room was a must; at least for her to remove the shrapnel she believed was imbedded in his flesh. Where had he encountered the shrapnel and what was this man doing in Hershey, Pennsylvania?
Why was he in her hospital?
“When you take him into the O.R., tell the others that the car exploded, and that’s why you’re removing what looks like shrapnel, Janine.”
“It’ll take a while before we can get him into the O.R. There was a pile-up on Route 83 that’s backed up everything.”
A stricken expression filled KC’s eyes. Janine wasn’t certain if she meant to, but KC still smoothed a hand down the man’s face. The wounded look in her eyes was replaced by pure love. So much for this man not being her brother. But why wouldn’t he want his sister to acknowledge him?
“He was in a car accident, Dr. Morrison,” Janine said for the benefit of the other medical staff
who now entered the room.
“Yes, looks like the car exploded or something. You’ll be yanking stuff out of him for ages. Of course,” KC said with a jaunty wink that Janine knew wasn’t real, “you’ve got experience with removing pieces of metal. Luckily, this was only a car accident.”
“I can manage,” Janine answered dryly, keeping up her side of the conversation as they stripped off their bloody gloves and sterile garb. Janine walked KC to the door. She had intended to stop there, but KC appeared so torn and shaken, she thought she better make certain her friend actually found her car.
When she and KC reached the vehicle, Janine could tell KC was leaning close to shock.
“Janine, what was that all about? What’s Greg doing here?”
“I thought that wasn’t Greg? You said you didn’t know that man.”
“I didn’t know him. My brother is an artist. That man is not an artist. He looks exactly like Greg, but he isn’t my brother. At least not the man I know.”
“Why wasn’t he like your brother?”
“Greg is the most unreliable, scatterbrained man alive. That man lying on your operating table isn’t unreliable or scatterbrained. Who is he, Janine?”
A rhetorical question from a terrified sister and Janine couldn’t say anything.
She shook her head. KC had no idea that she probably could answer that question. Wondering how much to tell KC, as her friend was retired Navy, so she could be trusted with secrets, Janine still hesitated. At this point, Janine felt maybe her not knowing would be more dangerous than her knowing.
“Unless I missed the signs, I’d say someone shot him up pretty well, with a nasty little bomb. Only a man in excellent physical condition and with skills beyond normal military training has kept him alive.”
“You think Greg is part of a Special Forces team? How? He’s never been in the military.”
“Just because you’ve never heard he’s been in the military doesn’t mean he isn’t. And that man’s name is Michael Lamont, not Greg Gilmore.”