by Karen Foley
Sitting up, Jenna swung her legs to the floor and scrubbed her hands over her face. If it was meant to be, then it would work itself out. But right now, there was very little about their relationship that she could control, so it didn’t make sense worrying about it. Standing up, she scooped up her panties and T-shirt from where she’d tossed them during the night and shoved them in her laundry bag. She’d drop the bag off at the base Laundromat on her way to the gym. After showering and tidying her room, she pulled on a pair of shorts and T-shirt and was just shoving her feet into her sneakers when someone pounded on the door. Hard.
Her heart leaped in her chest, hoping it might be Chance. It was just past six o’clock in the morning, and she couldn’t imagine who else might be trying to rouse her. But when she opened the door, a young sergeant stood at attention, his face expressionless. Adrenaline surged through her veins. Even as the thought exploded in her head, she knew the likelihood that he had come about Chance was remote.
“Ma’am, you’re wanted in Colonel Tyler’s office, ASAP.”
“Do you know why?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there.”
As she closed the door and stripped out of her fitness clothes, her mind played through all the possible reasons why Colonel Tyler might want to see her, and none of them were good. Had he somehow found out that Chance had stayed in her room? If so, she could kiss her career goodbye. She could accept that for herself, but there was no way she wanted Chance to suffer. He loved the military, and he loved his job as a helicopter pilot. If he lost that, they’d never have any chance at a relationship, because she would always be a reminder of what he’d given up.
She pulled on a clean uniform, swiftly laced her boots, and grabbed her weapon. As she made her way across the base, she mentally rehearsed what she would say to shift the responsibility of their actions to herself. She entered the commander’s outer office and a female sergeant directed her to wait there. Jenna stood looking out the small window, furtively wiping her damp palms on her camo pants. She could see the helicopter landing zone, but was unable to tell how many Apache helicopters stood on the tarmac. Was Chance still on the base?
“Captain Larson? The colonel will see you now.”
Jenna turned to find the female sergeant holding the colonel’s door open for her. Setting her weapon aside, she drew in a deep breath and stepped into the commander’s office. The door closed behind her. Colonel Tyler was bent over his desk, writing something, and he glanced up briefly as she entered.
“Have a seat, Captain,” he said tersely, indicating a nearby chair.
Jenna perched on the edge of the seat and waited in tense anticipation as he finished what he was doing and then pushed his chair back. Standing up, he came around the edge of his desk. His expression was grim and Jenna felt her heart sink. He knew. There could be no other reason for his manner. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to remain poised and not fidget beneath his appraising stare.
“Did you get any sleep last night, Captain?” he asked.
Oh, God. He definitely knew. Why not get right to the point? Colonel Tyler was well known and respected for his direct manner, so why would he play games with her? Refusing to rise to the bait, she nodded.
“Yes, sir. As much as could be expected.”
He sat on the edge of his desk. “Good. I remember the first time I had to fly a combat mission. I couldn’t sleep for a week afterward. But you did a fine job last night and I’m pleased to say the wounded soldier you saved will survive.”
Jenna nodded again. “That’s good to hear, sir.”
The colonel cleared his throat. “Jenna,” he began, using her first name in a rare display of familiarity, “I have some bad news.”
Jenna’s pulse kicked into high gear. Was it Chance? His face was so grim that the news had to be very bad. She mentally braced herself, curling her hands into fists on her lap.
“I’m listening,” she said.
“I received an emergency notification from the Red Cross. Your father suffered a massive heart attack several hours ago. He’s alive, but he’s not expected to survive. I’m very sorry.”
Jenna stared at him for a long moment, trying to comprehend his words. Not Chance. Her father. Dying. She shook her head, not quite believing what she’d heard.
“I’ve arranged for you to return immediately,” Colonel Tyler continued. “Just pack the essentials. I’m giving you authorization to take as much time as you need. There’s a flight departing Kandahar in one hour for Kuwait, and from there you’ll continue on to Fort Lee, Virginia.”
“Thank you,” she replied automatically. Standing up, she felt disoriented and numb. Her father couldn’t be dying. He was Erik Larson, a man who had cheated death so many times that she’d believed nothing could harm him.
“For what it’s worth, your father is a great man,” Colonel Tyler said quietly. “He is one of the best pilots this country has ever seen and you should be very proud to be his daughter. I’m sure he is very proud of you.”
“Yes,” she murmured. “Thank you very much.”
He gave her a slip of paper with the name of a Boston hospital. Her father must be in critical condition if they’d transported him to Boston instead of treating him at the small Cape Cod facility.
She went back to her housing unit to pack a bag, still struggling to get her head around the fact that her father was dying. For all she knew, he could already have died. How long did they expect him to survive? And if he was still alive, would she make it back in time to say goodbye? Her vision blurred and she swiped furiously at her eyes. She wouldn’t cry. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that her father wouldn’t want her to grieve for him.
“Captain Larson!”
Jenna turned to see Chance jogging toward her from the direction of the fight line. He wore his flight suit, and even in her distress, she couldn’t help but admire how good he looked. He was lean and fit and tanned, and his pleased smile revealed the dimples she loved so much. But as he drew closer, his smile vanished.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded. “You’re crying.”
He looked around as if he expected to see the source of her unhappiness standing nearby and fully intended to beat the crap out of whoever was responsible.
Jenna bent her head and continued walking. “I just came from Colonel Tyler’s office.”
Chance fell into step beside her. “What happened? What did he say? Because if it’s about last night, I’ll speak with him. I’ll accept full responsibility. Christ, this is all my fault. You were sleeping—”
Jenna stopped and turned to face him, laying a hand across his mouth to halt his words. “This has nothing to do with last night,” she assured him.
He pushed her hand away. “Then what is it? What could possibly make you this upset?”
Jenna blinked and looked away. “It’s my father. He had a heart attack and isn’t expected to survive. In fact, he could already be gone.”
Her voice broke on the last word, and with a soft groan of dismay, Chance hauled her into his arms. “Ah, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. When did this happen?”
“A few hours ago,” she sniffed, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “I’m actually heading back to the States right now.”
“Okay. I’ll come with you.”
Jenna pulled away, bewildered. “What? No. You can’t come with me. They won’t let you, and why would you want to, anyway?”
Grasping her shoulders, he looked directly into her eyes. “Because I care about you. Because I want to be there for you. I can probably get some home leave, especially if I explain our relationship.”
Jenna gave a harsh laugh and shrugged his hands off before she continued walking in the direction of her CHU. “Oh, right. That should go over well with your commanding officer.”
“I guess the question is, do you want me to come with you? If you do, then I’ll do whatever it takes to make i
t happen.”
Jenna turned to face him. His face was serious now, the dimples gone. She let her gaze linger on his features, memorizing the square cut of his jaw, the full sensuousness of his lower lip, his cheekbones and the proud thrust of his nose and, finally, his eyes, which always reminded her of the sea. Did she want him to come with her? More than anything. Did she want him risking his career to do so? Absolutely not.
“Listen,” she said carefully, “it’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer, because I do. But there wouldn’t be much you could do, and I’d rather you didn’t reveal our relationship to the top brass. We don’t even know where it’s going from here.”
His features tightened. “Really? I thought we’d figured that out last night.”
“Yes, well, I’m actually reconsidering my future,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “In four months, I’ll be eligible to either recommit with the army, or get out altogether.”
Chance frowned. “What are you saying? That you’d throw away a great career and return to civilian life? Christ, Jenna, you’re scheduled to go before the promotion board in the spring. By this time next year, you could pin on major. You could have your own command—lead your own battalion.”
“Not all of us dream of becoming heroes, Chance.”
Chance stared at her. “Is that what you think? That I do this for the glory?”
Jenna thought of how he had protected her during the previous night’s mission to save the wounded soldier. He’d been doing his job, and he’d likely receive no recognition or awards for what he’d done. More important, she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t expect any decorations. As far as she was concerned, he was already a hero.
“No,” she acknowledged quietly. “I don’t think that. That’s not what I meant. Look, I really should get going. I’ll, um, be back in a couple of weeks and maybe I’ll get a chance to fly up to Kabul, okay?”
Chance snorted. “Yeah. That sounds great.” He blew out a hard breath. “I’m real sorry about your dad.”
Jenna nodded. “Thanks.”
They stood in awkward silence for a moment, before Jenna gestured vaguely in the direction of her housing unit. “I should probably—”
Before she could guess his intent, Chance stepped close and caught her face in his palms. He searched her eyes for a brief moment, and then lowered his mouth over hers in a kiss so incredibly sweet that Jenna thought she might start to cry again. When he finally pulled away, his expression was one of resignation and regret.
“You take care of yourself, okay?”
Jenna nodded. She couldn’t speak for the hard lump in her throat. As she watched, he walked away. Her vision blurred and the edges of his silhouette wavered and distorted against the backdrop of desert and mountains, until he might have been no more than a mirage. Dragging in a deep breath, she turned and walked in the opposite direction.
16
JENNA RETURNED TO Kandahar Air Base just in time for Memorial Day, which seemed fitting, somehow. Had she really only been gone for three weeks? It seemed like an eternity. She had arrived in Kuwait the previous day and was fortunate enough to get a seat on a military flight headed to Afghanistan. Right now, as she watched Kandahar Air Base come into view on the ground below, she was glad to be a passenger and not the pilot. She would have had a difficult time keeping her mind on the task of flying. She looked down at the paper she held in her hands. How many times had she read it? At least a dozen.
Smoothing the creases, she reread it now, telling herself that this time she would not get weepy. But the fact that her father had written this letter to her nearly six years earlier, when she had first received her commission as an army officer, still stunned her.
When she had arrived at the hospital in Boston, Erik Larson had been alive, but in a coma. Jenna had maintained a near-constant vigil at his bedside until he slipped away almost a week later without ever regaining consciousness. He’d had numerous visitors, including a three-star general who, in a brief but solemn ceremony, had pinned a meritorious service medal to his hospital gown.
Her father had been buried with full military honors, and Jenna had been astonished at the number of high-ranking military members who had seen fit to attend the service. But the real surprise had come afterward, when she’d been contacted by her father’s lawyer and told that he had left his helicopter tour business to her, as well as a substantial sum of money. He’d also left a generous amount for her mother, despite the fact she’d remarried years earlier. But all of that paled in significance when compared to the letter he had left for her. Jenna only wished he’d had the courage to give it to her while he’d been alive.
She sighed and folded the letter carefully before tucking it into the pocket of her camo jacket. In another few moments, she would be back at Kandahar, where she would resume her duties as a Black Hawk helicopter pilot. She’d had plenty of time to consider her career and her future options, and found herself replaying her last conversation with Chance over and over again in her head. A lot of guys might feel threatened by a woman whose career so closely mirrored their own. She knew for a fact that there were male pilots who felt that women had no place in the cockpit, but Chance wasn’t one of them. Leave it to him to encourage her to stay and advance her career. His opinion mattered, and she found she didn’t want to let him down. But neither could she see them having any kind of future if they were both stationed in different parts of the country or required to deploy, possibly at different times. They would be like ships passing in the night, and she just couldn’t see a long-term relationship surviving that kind of separation.
Twenty minutes later, she had retrieved her duffel bag and made her way through the security checkpoint toward the military processing area.
“Captain Larson!”
Jenna turned to see Laura weaving her way through the crowds toward her. She smiled, happy to see her copilot.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” she asked, giving the other woman a one-armed hug.
“I figured you wouldn’t want to wait for the bus, so I brought a car for you.” Laura grinned. “We’re just outside.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Jenna protested, but was secretly relieved that she didn’t have to share the military bus with the dozens of other soldiers arriving at Kandahar.
“Yes, well, it was the least I could do. Besides, I was told that if you arrived before thirteen hundred hours then I was to bring you over to the headquarters office ASAP.”
Jenna followed Laura outside, where the dry, baking heat of the desert momentarily took her breath away. Just three weeks of being back on the East Coast, breathing in the cool, salty air of the Atlantic, had been enough for her to almost forget the arid dryness of Kandahar.
She and Laura climbed into an armored Humvee that stood idling on the curb, with two armed soldiers riding in the front. “Why does the colonel want to see me?” Jenna asked, after she had stashed her backpack and duffel bag into the back and the Humvee began driving across the base.
Laura shrugged. “I think he’s having a Commander’s Call,” she said, referring to the mandatory meetings that a commander periodically held in order to speak to his people.
“Has it been crazy while I’ve been gone?”
“No more than usual. I’ve been doing the Afghan shuffle, transporting people and troops back and forth, but I haven’t been involved in any more rescue missions.”
“Have you seen Major Rawlins?” She tried to keep her voice casual, knowing she failed miserably.
“Which one?” Laura asked archly. “Special Ops or Apache pilot?”
Jenna gave her a tolerant look. “Either.”
“Oh, look,” Laura said brightly, glancing at her watch. “We’re already here, and not a minute too soon.”
Looking out the window, Jenna saw they had arrived at the commander’s headquarters, where both aviators and soldiers were already making their way inside. Climbing down from the Humvee, she smoothed her hands
over her camo jacket and tucked a loose strand of hair behind one ear, wishing she’d had time to wash up and change into a fresh uniform. She’d been traveling for two days, and aside from feeling grungy and in need of a long shower, she felt jet-lagged and irritable. Blowing out a hard breath, Jenna grabbed her gear and followed Laura into the building to a small auditorium where the other soldiers were already taking their seats. Choosing a chair near the back, she dropped her duffel back onto the floor beside her.
The room was noisy with conversation and laughter and the scraping of chairs against the floor. Jenna could feel a headache coming on. Leaning forward, she pressed her fingers against her aching eyes and thought longingly of her quiet, air-conditioned CHU. She thought of Chance, who was located three hundred miles to the north and couldn’t do anything to make her feel better. He hadn’t tried to contact her while she’d been gone, and recalling their last conversation, she wondered if she had blown any chance of a real relationship with him. The thought made her feel even more depressed.
The room fell silent and Laura poked her hard on the shoulder. Looking up, she realized Colonel Tyler had entered the room. She rose quickly to her feet and stood at attention, her height affording her a clear view. The colonel stood with his aide, who held an armful of green folders and a stack of small, velvet boxes. An awards ceremony.
“Could the following individuals please come forward,” he said without preamble. “Sergeant First Class Randy Morrison. Sergeant First Class Samantha Helwig.”