“Good, considering.” She hugged the bedcovers to her, aware that they were practically alone together. The nurses at the station a few doors down felt very far away.
“You look much better than the last time I saw you. Trust me.” A hint of a grin tugged at the spare corners of his mouth, but his gaze remained serious and kind. “I hear they’re springing you today.”
“Yes, they’re releasing me on my own recognizance.” She wanted to keep things light and on the surface, to hide the fact that she was numb inside, like winter’s frozen ground. It was better that way. This was how she had survived Tim’s burial and moved on. Today was simply another day, like so many had been, one she needed to get through one step at a time, one breath, one moment. Seeing Hawk didn’t change a thing.
“I meant to come by sooner, but you know how it is. Duty calls.” He strode into the room like some kind of action hero, confident and athletically powerful and mild mannered all at once. “I didn’t know if you wanted to see me again, but I had to look at you and know for myself that you are going to be all right.”
It hurt to look at him. Not only because of Tim—but also because of the hardship etched on Hawk’s face. She studied him as he set the vase on the night table with the several other arrangements, the sweet gardenia scent mixing pleasantly with the roses and carnation bouquets. Her skin prickled at his nearness like a warning buzzer going off to announce that he was too near. She could smell the sunshine on his T-shirt and the faint scent of motor oil on his faded denims.
This close, she could see the lines etched at the corners of his eyes, ones that hadn’t been there the last time she’d seen him. She wrapped her arm around her middle like a shield. He’d had his losses, his trials and his sorrows. She was not looking at the same man she’d once known as Hawk, in those long-ago-seeming days before Tim’s death. War and loss had changed him, too.
“You have family coming for you?” The sunlight from the window spilled over him, gilding him. With his muscled frame straight and strong, he resembled the noble warrior he was.
And exactly why was she noticing that? She had no interest in love anymore. She would never fall for another soldier. It was that simple. She stared hard at a fraying thread in the hem of the blanket covering her instead of meeting his gaze. “My sister is running late. She’s taking me home.”
“You still have an apartment near the post?”
“No.” She was surprised he had remembered her little one-bedroom place in a pretty gray building along a greenbelt. He’d attended Tim’s birthday party, the only one Tim had been home for through their entire relationship. “I’ve got a town house now, not far from where I work.”
He didn’t say the obvious, that both she and Tim had been saving up to buy a house after they were married. She had invested her savings in a place of her own instead.
“Look, September. I never thought we’d meet again.” He squared those impressive shoulders of his. “I thought about looking you up and seeing how you were. But I was afraid it would be too painful for you. I can see it is.”
“It’s okay.” She wasn’t the only one hurting. She might not have known him well—he’d been one of Tim’s best friends, not hers—but she could see he had walked a hard road, too. “I’ve thought about finding you or Tim’s brother, on and off. I wanted to, but I could never make myself do it.”
“You wanted to see me?”
She nodded. He and Tim had been together at those last moments. Hawk held the answers to the questions that had kept her wondering. But would asking them bring up as much sadness for him as it did for her? “You missed his funeral.”
“Not my idea, but I made it for the wake. I didn’t get a chance to talk to you.” His brows knit together and he leaned back against the wall, pensive and dark. “You could have asked me then, but you refused to speak to me.”
“I was hurting too much. I wasn’t ready to hear about what happened over there. I had lost my one true love. I was torn apart. I couldn’t stand to know the details.”
“Don’t blame you there.”
“But I had questions later. After the first shock of loss faded, I thought of all the things I should have asked, things that I needed to know. And you were far away and unreachable.”
“I’m sorry about that.” He felt helpless. He should have looked her up. He should have made sure she was all right.
“There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to know the answers.” Her confession came as softly as a hymn, resonating deep within him.
Ranger School had taught him how to lead, how to fight and how to accomplish his goal the right way, no excuses allowed. He might have led missions in the most dangerous places in the world, but facing the pretty brunette in front of him, he was at a loss. He was well trained and fearless, but right now all his training meant little. He did not know how to ease her grief. She had loved Tim deeply.
“You let me know which side wins out.” It was all he could do for her. “If you want answers, I will give you what I can.”
“Thanks, Hawk, and the flowers are lovely. My favorite.” Although she sat straight and sweetly, the corners of her mouth fought to hold steady. Shadows dimmed the bronze depths of her eyes, which had once sparkled and twinkled with abundant joy.
It was hard seeing the change in her. She looked like a woman who no longer laughed or who no longer knew how to live. Sympathy squeezed his hard heart. “I picked up a few things hanging out with the Granger brothers. Tim was always sending you gardenias. I figured there had to be a reason.”
“A slight one.” She didn’t need to say how much she had appreciated that about her man.
Hawk could see it. He felt drawn to her in a way that was beyond sympathy. The tightness in his chest was much more than a man’s concern over a woman he had rescued. The past connected them like a bridge across a river, taut and undeniable. He’d been a fool to come; it had been the right thing, but foolish. In the end, he couldn’t stay away. “I made a mistake with the flowers. They’ve reminded you of Tim.”
“Yes, but it was thoughtful.” She tried to put a bandage on her pain with a tentative smile, but he wasn’t fooled.
“I didn’t think. I just remembered—”
“I know,” she interrupted, saving him from feeling in the wrong. She was gentle and kind that way. Lovely, not just on the outside but inside, where it truly counted. “I haven’t received flowers in a long time. Now look at all of this. Fall down an old mine shaft and I get all this attention.”
She was trying to steer away from talk of the past and of everything that hurt, too. Relieved, he went with it and put on a grin. Maybe it was best to leave sad things in the shadows. “How did you get down there, anyway?”
“You don’t want to know.” She played with the blanket hem, her long, sensitive fingers working a blue thread. Her sleek brown hair fell around her face like a shield. “I made a mistake.”
“Who hasn’t at one time or another?”
“I should have been more strict with Crystal, but she’s one of my favorite students.”
“Plus, you are a pushover. At least, that’s my best impression of you.”
“I’ve been called worse.” She twirled a loose thread around her fingers, hating the way her hand trembled. She fought to stay numb, keeping the broken pieces safely frozen as if they were nothing, nothing at all. “Crystal’s mare was sidestepping and acting weird.”
“In my opinion, horses always act weird.”
“That’s because they aren’t always predictable. Even the best-trained horse will surprise a good