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“You should be catching a nap then.”
“I couldn’t sleep right now.”
She looked down at her coffee, then across at him again. “I would have thought you’d have learned to sleep anytime, anywhere.”
“Because of being military?” He shrugged. “That used to be easier. You might not understand this yet, I don’t know. But the losses are harder now. Maybe because the patients aren’t usually in such a bad state.”
Krissie nodded slowly. “I guess I can see that.”
“Maybe you won’t feel that way. I hope not.”
“Too early to tell. So what’s your background?”
He sipped his coffee as if buying time to consider what he should say.
“Oh, come on,” she prodded. “You read my jacket. Fair’s fair.”
At that, he smiled. “Okay. I enlisted at eighteen, became a medic in time for Desert Storm. Bad enough, but I was still on fire with the desire to be able to do more to help, so eventually I went to college, got admitted to medical school. The army picked up the tab on my medical training in return for a six-year commitment. It was mostly okay. Until Iraq.”
“Yeah.”
“Same for you?”
She shook her head, biting her upper lip. “Not quite. I went to nursing school on scholarship and enlisted after I got my B.S. in nursing. The navy trained me to be a nurse practitioner, and the next thing I knew, I was in Asia on the USS Hope after the tsunami.”
“My God, that must have been awful.”
“Not my favorite memory. But after that, I was attached to the Marine Corps and served in Iraq.”
“In the field,” he said as if it weren’t a question.
“In the field,” she agreed. “Well, at bases with field hospitals.”
“Yeah, the ones they pretend aren’t at the front line.”
She lifted her gaze and saw understanding there. A wealth of understanding. “There is no front line.”
He nodded. “Exactly.”
Mabel returned and slapped their plates down in front of them. Krissie stared at hers, certain there had to be more than two eggs in that omelet. Plus there were hash browns she hadn’t asked for and four slices of rye toast.
David must have read her expression. He laughed. “I think Maude thinks you’re too thin.”
“Maude thinks everyone is too thin.”
Krissie glanced toward the window and caught sight of her reflection. She was a little under her fighting weight, and worse, she suddenly realized that the blond streaks in her light brown hair were growing out to the point that they no longer looked good. She experienced a moment of self-consciousness, then quickly dismissed it. She’d only applied those streaks because Alvin had insisted on it. He’d wanted her to go completely blond, but at least she’d managed to draw that line. Of course, with Al, it was his way or the highway. It had taken a while, but she’d finally chosen the highway.
Whatever had possessed her to stay for so long?
“Penny for your thoughts?”
David’s voice drew her back, and she looked at him. “Nothing,” she said. “Just a memory.”
“And thoughts are worth a lot more than a penny these days.”
David could be charming, she realized. That concerned her as much as their initial encounter. Control and charm had gone hand-in-hand with Alvin. Just like that, she went on high alert.
“What’s wrong?” David asked.
Perceptive, too. “Nothing,” she said firmly and turned her attention to her overburdened plate. Just the sight of all that food made her feel full, but she hadn’t eaten a bite. And since she hadn’t eaten her lunch during her break, she knew she was going to have to tuck in or get sick later.
She picked up a slice of toast, already buttered by the prodigious purveyor of fatty food herself, Maude, and took a bite. At least her stomach didn’t revolt. In fact, once the toast reached bottom, she began to feel hungry. A sip of coffee took care of the last of her revulsion.
David tucked in, too, and for a while, they ate in silence.
The tragic mood of the night began to give way to life. One of the hardest and fastest lessons medical people had to learn was that life went on even when someone died. That they weren’t God, and sometimes had to just let go. Clinging to their losses only made them less capable of caring for the next patient.
But neither could they afford to grow hard. No, they just had to quick-time their way through the sense of failure and loss to be ready for the next case.
David spoke. “So you worked in the VA hospital in Denver, right?”
She tensed immediately. “Yes. I did.”
He looked at her. “Bad topic?”
She half shrugged. “Well, it was emotionally tough. Easier in some ways than Iraq, harder in others.”
“I would think so. At one end, you’re focused on saving a life. At the other, you’re looking at the destruction left in the wake of it.”
“You can never do enough. And the vast majority of the patients I had were amazingly positive, considering what they faced. Oh, they got angry at times, and depressed, but by and large, they handled it better than I did.”
“How so?”
She hesitated. “Well…sometimes I found myself furious. Because we saved them for this? A life without limbs, a life with brain damage, a life of paralysis? And every time it started to overwhelm me, some patient would say he was glad he’d made it.” She shook her head and closed her eyes for a minute. “Sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. The whole point of dragging you here for breakfast was to get some calories into the two of us and shuck what happened so we can get on with what comes next.” He looked rueful. “So, idiot that I am, I stick my foot right in it.”
She had to smile, and made a major effort to shake off the memories. “I guess we all get our scars.”
“So your dad used to be sheriff here?”
She almost laughed at the pointed change of subject. “Yeah. Forever, it seems. Certainly since before I was born. Deep roots in these parts.”
“I haven’t really had a chance to get to know him yet.”
“You will. Retired or not, this county belongs to Dad.” She grinned. “Or so he thinks. He’s keeping his hand in, one way or another. Small ways. It must be driving Gage nuts.”
“Gage? You mean the new sheriff, Gage Dalton?”
“Yup. And note the way you say ‘the new sheriff.’ He’s been doing it for three years now, and everyone still says he’s the new sheriff.”
David chuckled. “That could get annoying.”
“Gage doesn’t seem to mind. He’s either a really good actor, or he has his priorities straight.”
“I don’t really know him, either. I don’t have a whole lot of contact with the sheriff’s department.”
“Well, we’ll have to change that. It’s the best way to get wired into the county. You probably know my sister, though. Wendy Yuma, the flight nurse with the emergency response team.”
“She’s your sister? I know her all right, her and Billy Joe. Great people.”
“Maybe we should all get together some time.” As soon as she said it, she wanted to withdraw the suggestion. How much better did she really want to know this edgy, possibly difficult man? He might want to forget he’d come on like gangbusters at their first meeting, but she wouldn’t. Couldn’t afford to. She’d had enough of control freaks to last her a lifetime.
“Yeah, that could be fun.”
He went back to eating, obviously blessed with a healthy appetite as well as dark good looks. But as she sat there, nibbling at her toast and omelet, Krissie realized the man didn’t look happy at all. Either last night was still upsetting him, or he carried a load of garbage even bigger than hers.
Which wouldn’t be surprising. You didn’t come out of a war without garbage. Tons of it. Not if you were human.
But she didn’t want to go there. Not now. Maybe not ever. Even thinking about the VA hospital upset her, so how could she talk about what they’d both seen in Iraq? Sometimes it was better to let sleeping dogs lie.
Finally, Krissie simply couldn’t eat another bite. She pushed her plate to one side, expecting Maude or Mabel to come give her the standard lecture about wasting good food. Instead, Mabel didn’t say a word. She simply refilled their mugs with fresh coffee and took the plate away.
Maybe, Krissie thought with a burst of inner humor, miracles still happened.
David suddenly spoke. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you go get some sleep? I’ll get the bill. My treat.”
As soon as he spoke, she realized he was right. She was too exhausted to manage a conversation about even something as inane as the weather.
“I am tired,” she admitted.
“I can see that.” He lifted one corner of his mouth in a smile. “Go rest up. I’m sure I’ll see you tonight.”
“Tonight?” That rattled her, then she remembered. “Oh, yeah. Tonight. I’m on shift.”
He nodded, and his smile widened. “Definitely exhausted. Off with you. See you later.”
She was strangely glad to escape the normally pleasant sounds and smells of the diner and climbed into her little car with relief.
The night was over. So much for peace.
Chapter Three (#u23b2ebd0-5109-5469-a66a-27cc6ca7daa3)
Afternoon sunlight slanted through Krissie’s bedroom window, a welcome sight as she awoke. She smiled and stretched contentedly. The air mattress beneath her made its familiar hollow sounds.
Being in the navy for six years had taught her to minimize her possessions. If it didn’t fit in a duffel bag, she didn’t own it. Then the habit proved hard to break, and the few items of furniture she had bought while working in Denver had seemed easier to sell than to move.
She needed to change that mindset, she thought now. A bed, a table, some additional cooking utensils, maybe even a sofa. She could afford these things from her savings, and since she was determined to stay here now that she had come home, she didn’t need to live like a gypsy any more.
In fact, she thought ruefully, gypsies probably had more worldly possessions. She stretched again and glanced at the small travel alarm clock near her bed. Four o’clock already! She must have slept like the dead.
Just time enough to grab a shower and try to make something to eat, then pack a lunch for her shift. And maybe a quick chat with Mom on the phone.
Almost as if reading her mind, her cell phone rang, and she saw her parents’ phone number pop up. Smiling, she opened the phone and answered.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi, honey.” Her mother’s warm voice filled her ear. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“I was just waking up.”
“Oh, goodie. So, you know what the best thing about having you back in town is?” Marge Tate’s tone became gently humorous.
“No, what?”
“I can ask you over for dinner now. And it just so happens we decided to eat early. That wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact you have to be back on shift at seven.”
Krissie laughed. “Oh, Mom!”
“So your dad’s heating up the grill and I thought we’d make burgers, and I’m in the middle of making this really great salad—”
“Sold!” Krissie said. “I just need to shower and throw some things together for tonight.”
“Don’t rush, honey. Dinner won’t be until five or so. But while you’re not rushing, hurry up. I miss you.”
Still smiling, Krissie closed her phone, jumped up and trotted to the shower. God, it was good to be home!
The Tate family house looked as it always had during the years Krissie and the five other girls had grown up there, except that it had a fresh coat of white paint and some new bushes out front. The full-size van was gone, too, no longer necessary for carting six kids around.
But it was still home, and as soon as Krissie stepped through the front door, she felt enveloped in warmth and love.
She found her parents out back on the deck, sipping tall glasses of lemonade. Immediately, they enveloped her in hugs, as if they hadn’t just seen her two days ago, then sat her down with her own glass of lemonade.
Nate, her dad, didn’t look a day older than he had when she left for the navy eight years ago. It was as if he’d weathered and aged all he could by forty, and then remained unchanging.
Marge had put on a couple of pounds, but on her they looked good. She had apparently stopped washing her short hair with henna, so the red had faded mostly to gray. The years, however, had taken no toll on her smile or her twinkling eyes.
“We invited Wendy and Billy Joe for dinner, too,” Marge said, “but apparently there was a car accident, so you’re stuck with just us for company.”
“As if I’d complain?”
Nate chuckled, a deep gravelly sound. “Well, I know how much you were looking forward to the three-ring circus.”
“No, that’s Christmas, when everyone comes home.”
Nate laughed again. “My favorite time of year.”
Marge smiled at him. “Go get the burgers, dear. Krissie has limited time and I want to have a private word.”
