by Karen Foley
A small burger shack stood near the entrance to the pier, and the smell of fried food wafted on the air. Jamie realized he was famished. He hadn’t eaten breakfast after Rachel had left that morning, and now his stomach was talking to him.
“Let’s go grab some food at that little burger joint, and take it out to the pier,” he suggested.
“That sounds perfect,” Rachel agreed, and made to grab hold of the handles on the back of the wheelchair.
“Whoa, what are you doing?” Jamie demanded, frowning at her. “I don’t need you to push me. In fact, I could use the exercise.”
He demonstrated his ability by grabbing the wheels and expertly maneuvering the chair in a circle, before rocking it back into a wheelie.
Rachel raised her hands in surrender, laughing. “Okay, I get it. Sorry to violate your man-card!”
She walked beside him as they made their way across the parking lot to the pier, and he reveled in the cool breeze on his face. Two young women, dressed in shorts and soft cotton tops, who clearly weren’t wearing bras, strolled past them and smiled at Jamie, before falling against each other, laughing.
He grinned broadly after they had passed. “I love when the weather turns warm.”
Beside him, Rachel gave an indelicate snort. “Aren’t they a little young?”
He had no interest in the girls, but he couldn’t resist baiting Rachel, just a little. “I don’t know,” he mused. “They looked to be in their early twenties. I’m twenty-six, so I think we’re in the same league. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Excuse me!” The two young women had returned, and now they were looking both sheepish and hopeful. The first girl smiled at Jamie. “We couldn’t help but notice nobody has signed your cast. Would you mind if we did?”
Jamie laughed in surprise. The girls were right; the plaster was still smooth and unblemished. He spun the chair toward them.
“Be my guest,” he offered.
The girls fished around in their purses until one triumphantly produced a couple of gel pens, in pink and purple. Jamie was acutely conscious of Rachel, standing just to one side, watching. He didn’t look at her as the girls knelt on the wooden walkway on either side of his leg, and proceeded to draw on the cast. Their hair fell forward as they worked, obscuring their efforts.
“Thank you for letting us do this,” the first girl enthused.
“Are you in the service?” The second girl glanced up at him, and her eyes swept over him, missing nothing.
Jamie nodded. “Yeah, I am.”
“Oh! Did this happen in combat?”
“It did,” he confirmed.
They both made little cooing sounds of sympathy, and renewed their artistic endeavors.
“There!” The first girl rose to her feet and surveyed her handiwork. “I hope you like it.”
Jamie nearly groaned aloud when he saw the swirly hearts and flowers she had drawn, along with the caption, Get Well Soon! Beneath the hearts, her name was a looping scrawl.
“Okay, all done,” declared the second girl. Standing up, she gave Jamie a shy smile. “I wrote my number, right there. If you ever want to get out, maybe have a drink, just give me a call.”
She had drawn two purple palm trees bowing toward each other, and between them, a setting sun complete with pointy rays of sunshine. In the center of the sun she’d written her name and number.
“Ah, thank you—” Jamie peered down at his leg “—Chelsea.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for your service.” Chelsea’s smile broadened and she reached out to shake Jamie’s hand. “Well, we should get going. Give us a call sometime!”
“Bye,” said the first girl.
“Thanks again, ladies.”
He waited until they were out of earshot before he began pushing his chair again. “They obviously don’t think I’m too old for them,” he observed, suppressing a grin. “And they can’t be that young if they’re old enough to go out for drinks.”
Rachel was silent, and when he risked a glance at her, he almost regretted teasing her. He couldn’t see her eyes behind her sunglasses, but he recognized the disapproving set of her jaw, and her rigid posture. He sighed inwardly. The old Rachel—the one he’d been crazy about as a teen—wouldn’t have given a shit about other pretty girls, because she’d been that secure in herself. She’d had so much confidence, and such a zest for life that she hadn’t concerned herself with petty trivialities like jealousy or self-doubt.
While she seemed efficient and confident in her abilities as a personal concierge, Jamie sensed a change in her. She seemed more tightly wound than he remembered, and there was less laughter in her than before. Jamie wanted to reassure her the girls couldn’t hold a candle to her, but another part of him wanted her to recognize he was a man now, and some women actually found him attractive. In fact, he was pretty sure Rachel found him attractive, too.
Now he just had to get her to admit it.
Chapter Five
Rachel had absolutely no right to be jealous. She barely knew Jamie—had spent less than a few hours in his company. Just because they’d jokingly agreed to call their outings dates did not mean she had any claim on him.
But inwardly, she acknowledged she was jealous, pure and simple. Had she honestly believed a guy like Jamie would look twice at someone like her? Why would he ever be interested in a divorced thirty-three-year-old when there were dozens of young, toned, beautiful twenty-somethings all over the place?
She’d seen the way those two girls had looked at him. Not that she blamed them. He was a gorgeous guy, and with his leg in a cast, and his muscled arms displayed to full advantage as he wheeled his chair along the sidewalk, it was no wonder they had just about fallen over him. But the fact they hadn’t considered her to be competition was what really stung. That second girl hadn’t even glanced her way as she’d written her phone number all over Jamie’s leg, and then coyly invited him out for drinks. Had they thought she was his older sister?
She shook off the unpleasant thoughts.
But Jamie’s reminder that he was closer to their age than he was to hers had hit her like a solid blow. Suddenly, she felt every bit her age, and not in a good way. She told herself it didn’t matter. Hadn’t she resolved to find an older, safer man the next time around? Sliding a covert glance at Jamie as he cheerfully pushed his chair beside her, she felt as if she’d opted for mushy oatmeal when there was a big, juicy steak right in front of her.
As if sensing her scrutiny, he glanced at her. “What is it? Regretting your offer to spend time with me so soon?”
He sounded suspiciously cheerful.
“No, I’m not regretting my offer,” she retorted. “I’m just wondering if you’re going to ogle every pretty girl we pass.”
They had reached the small burger shack, and got into line behind the dozen or so people waiting to place their order.
“Hey, I didn’t ask them to stop and autograph my cast,” he said. “But now that you mention it, what’s the harm in enjoying the scenery? I spent the last year in Syria, and I haven’t been anywhere in the couple of months since I’ve been home. Trust me when I say there’s been a distinct shortage of pretty girls in my life. Why would you begrudge me this?”
Rachel crossed her arms and pretended to study the menu over the order window. “I don’t begrudge you,” she finally conceded, knowing she sounded grumpy.
Rachel started when a warm hand curled around her arm, drawing her attention away from the menu and toward the man by her side. When she reluctantly looked at Jamie, he had removed his sunglasses and was studying her quietly.
“You must know those girls have nothing on you,” he finally said, too low for any of the nearby patrons to hear.
Furious that he found her so transparent, Rachel pulled her arm free. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
To her dismay, Jamie just laughed softly. “Okay. We’ll play it your way, for now.” Then, louder: “But for the record, you are far and aw
ay the most beautiful woman in this town. Maybe even the most beautiful woman in Montana!”
Several people in front of them turned around, and seeing Jamie and Rachel, smiled, before exchanging knowing looks. They thought she and Jamie were a couple, which just made her feel even more pathetic.
“Jamie Colter,” Rachel hissed beneath her breath, “stop, or I’ll leave you here and you can find your own way home.”
He was instantly contrite. “Okay. But it’s the truth.”
“You don’t need to say that. I’m fine.”
“Why can’t I tell you what I think?”
Rachel gave him a warning look. Jamie put his hands up in surrender, but thankfully didn’t pursue the topic.
Rachel didn’t believe Jamie. He’d only said she was beautiful because she’d let him see her insecurity. She hated feeling this way: like someone had thrown a switch on a blender inside her stomach.
Deke had once confided that her confidence was what had initially drawn him to her. Hadn’t someone once said people destroy those things they love most? Well, Deke had done a good job of destroying her self-confidence and making her feel unworthy.
Of him.
Of being his wife.
Of everything.
They ordered their food—a couple of cheeseburgers and a large French fry—and slowly made their way to the wide pier that extended out over the lake. The support pilings were covered in mussels, and the sound of the water as it sucked at the poles and lapped gently against the beach was a balm to Rachel’s bruised ego. Sunlight danced on the water, and farther down the lake, she could see tiny white sails. Her spirits rose marginally.
Despite being early in the season, the pier was crowded with people fishing over the railing. Rachel and Jamie paused several times to watch as someone reeled in a fish. Greedy ring-billed gulls swooped low in the hopes of stealing the catch, and had to be waved away.
“They look as hungry as I feel,” Jamie commented. “Let’s sit over here.”
He indicated one of the benches that had been built into the pier, and Rachel sat down as Jamie rolled his chair beside her, careful to keep his extended leg out of the flow of human foot traffic. He opened the paper bag on his lap and handed Rachel a burger, and then set the fries on the bench beside her.
They ate in silence for several minutes. Rachel tried and failed not to watch Jamie. He ate with gusto, making appreciative noises that caused several people to smile as they passed. For Rachel, those sounds caused her imagination to run riot. Was he that vocal during sex? She suspected he might be. The very thought caused her skin to heat in a way that had nothing to do with the afternoon sun. She took a small bite of her burger and pretended not to hear his sounds of pleasure.
“So Deke-wad really did a number on you, huh?” he finally said, taking a long swallow of water from one of the bottles she’d packed.
Rachel lowered her burger and stared at him. “How do you—what would make you say that?”
Jamie shrugged and reached for some French fries on the bench beside her. The back of his fingers brushed against her thigh, and she forced herself not to react.
“Just a hunch.” He ate his fries and then leaned back in his chair, studying her from behind his sunglasses. “I don’t read the tabloids because most of that shit is just that—bullshit. But I know guys like Deke Narducci, and they’re threatened by anything or anyone who steals their limelight.” A smile touched his mouth. “And I’m pretty sure anytime you two were in public together, you stole the show.”
A wave of pleasure washed over her at the compliment. Still, she had to disagree. “If you believe that, then you obviously don’t know Deke. His outfits alone stole the show.”
Jamie made a scoffing sound. “He dresses like a clown. Has anyone told him how ridiculous he looks?” He made exaggerated gestures with his hands. “All that long hair and those bizarre hats he wears—” He shook his head in disgust. “Someone needs to tell him M.C. Hammer wants his pants back.”
This time, Rachel did laugh. She couldn’t help herself, his expression was so priceless, and there was a part of her that appreciated how he didn’t gush over Deke, the way most people did.
“There it is,” Jamie said, grinning. “There’s that smile. That’s what I remember most about you from when we were kids; your smile could just lay me out flat.” He fell back in his chair with his arms flung out, as if he were dead.
Rachel laughed again. “Thank you,” she finally said.
Jamie straightened. “Anytime. But I’m being sincere. That guy did not deserve you, and if he has half a brain, he’s already regretting having signed those divorce papers.”
Rachel pretended to be absorbed in wrapping up the remains of her lunch. “No,” she finally said. “He’s not regretting a thing. In fact, he’s already moved on.” She smiled brightly. “Several times, in fact.”
“Which just proves my point. He’s an idiot.”
Rachel shrugged. “I’m over it. But you’re right—he didn’t do my self-esteem any favors.” She gathered up the paper wrappings and stood to toss the trash in a nearby bin. “Ready?”
He peered up at her. “Where to now?”
“I thought we could take a walk through the downtown, but if you’re getting tired, we could head home.”
“Are you kidding? I feel great, and this is by far the best day I’ve had since I’ve been home.”
They made their way back along the length of the pier, maneuvering slowly through the small groups of people and anglers.
“So what happened over there?” Rachel asked. “I remember seeing it on the news, and my mom told me a little bit about it, but not much.”
Jamie didn’t answer right away, and Rachel could sense the topic wasn’t an easy one for him to talk about.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not trying to pry.”
“No, it’s fine. Some days it seems like a lifetime ago, and other days it seems like it happened just yesterday.”
They reached the end of the pier, and turned onto the sidewalk that ran the length of Main Street. Business was brisk at the burger shack, and the line extended down the pier. Families strolled along the sidewalk, window-shopping and eating ice cream. The sound of children playing in the nearby park, the sun sparkling on the water, and the sheer beauty of the day made it difficult to believe anything as ugly as war existed.
But it did. And it had exacted a terrible toll on the man sitting beside her.
“Why were you over there?” Rachel asked.
“I was part of a unit doing humanitarian work.”
Rachel accepted his explanation, even if she didn’t entirely believe it. She knew there were U.S. troops in Syria helping the Kurdish militia retake some of the cities, and Jamie’s Marine unit had likely been part of that effort.
“The strike came just before dawn, when most of our unit was asleep,” he continued. “The sirens went off, and I heard the whistle of the incoming rocket, but we didn’t even have time to grab our protective gear before the entire building just detonated.”
Rachel looked at Jamie. His jaw was set, and she could see how hard it was for him to talk about that night. She put a hand on his shoulder, and he stopped.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I can’t begin to imagine what you went through, but I’m so glad you’re safe, and that you’re home.”
He nodded, but didn’t look at her. “Thanks.”
Rachel drew her hand away. “You said you were trapped in the rubble.”
He drew in a deep breath and blew it out hard. “Yeah. We were on the first floor, and were pretty much buried by the two floors above us.”
“But you survived.”
“I did. I was unconscious during most of the rescue effort, but when I came to, I couldn’t see anything and I thought I was going to suffocate on the dust. But I could hear them up above me, working to remove the debris.” He was quiet for a moment, lost in reflection. “I could barely breathe, never mind yell to l
et them know I was alive. But they didn’t give up, not until every member of our unit was found.”
“Can I ask about your injuries? How serious were they?”
“I was busted up pretty good,” he said. “The surgeon said I might always have a limp, that’s how badly my leg was damaged. I think there’s more metal than bone in there, now.”
“And the scar on your stomach?” she asked quietly.
“That’s where a piece of rebar went right through me.”
Rachel gasped. She couldn’t stop her horrified reaction. “You were impaled?”
“Pretty much,” he acknowledged.
Rachel tried to imagine the scene, but the images were so horrific that she shuddered. She regretted having asked him about the incident, not because she didn’t care but because she’d ruined an otherwise perfect day by bringing the subject up.
“I’m so sorry,” she finally said. “I didn’t mean to make you relive that again.”
To her surprise, he stopped and took her hand, squeezing her fingers. “No, don’t be sorry. I’m glad you asked. Being at home with my parents—they don’t get it. They know, of course, but they don’t talk about it. I don’t know if it’s because they think it’s too hard for me, or because it’s too hard for them.”
“You’re their only son,” Rachel said quietly, looking down at their linked hands. “Their only child. I’m sure they’re just grateful to have you safe.”
“I think so. My mom drove me nuts when I was first home. She couldn’t do enough for me, and was always hovering, trying to make sure I was comfortable.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “They were dark days, and I wasn’t a very good patient. Then one night I heard her crying when she thought I couldn’t hear. That’s when I finally realized how tough this whole thing has been for them, too.”
“Is it better now?”
“Oh, definitely.” He shaded his eyes as he looked up at her, his expression lightening. “You’re here. The world is suddenly full of possibilities.”
Rachel laughed. “You haven’t changed a bit since you were a kid, Jamie Colter.”