During the night under a starless sky, they had driven their Humvee into an ambush, and now they were barely holding on, pinned down in a firefight with nothing but a crumbling rock wall between them and the enemy. Noah Grant had only cuts and bruises. His two close friends, Mike Moretti and Jake Ralston, also had non-life-threatening injuries. The other member on this US Army Rangers mission, Captain Thane Warner, was hurt badly with wounds to his chest and head, an injured leg and deep gashes all over his body from flying shrapnel.
Mike had applied pressure to two serious wounds, trying to save their captain and friend until help arrived. Their last communication had been cut off, but before it was, Noah heard a chopper was on the way.
An explosion rocked the ground not twenty feet away, sending up a plume of light. Mike turned to punch Noah’s shoulder. As Noah Grant lowered his weapon, Mike told him, “Trade places. Keep pressure on his wounds. He wants to talk to you.”
Without hesitation, Noah took Mike Moretti’s place, holding Thane’s own jacket and Mike’s jacket over Thane’s wounds, trying to apply pressure to the two most serious ones, hoping his captain and friend could hang on until help arrived.
Thane gripped his arm and Noah leaned closer to hear him over the explosives. With shallow breathing and a hoarse whisper, Thane spoke through obvious pain. “Noah, promise me you’ll take two gifts home for me.” Coughs racked his body and he grimaced. “Promise me.”
“I promise,” Noah said without thinking as he concentrated on trying to keep pressure on the wounds.
“Two keys in pocket,” Thane said in a raspy, weakened voice, placing his hand on a pocket. “Keys alike. Other one for Jake. Mike has one.”
“Don’t talk. Save your strength.” Trying to keep pressure on the wounds, Noah slipped his hand into the pocket, leaning down closer to Thane. “I have the keys.”
Thane’s eyelids fluttered and he looked at Noah. “...in box...two packages go to Camilla and Ethan.” He closed his eyes and stopped talking. Noah leaned closer.
“Thane. Thane. Hang in there. Chopper’s coming. Thane!”
Thane’s eyes fluttered and he grasped Noah’s wrist with surprising strength. “Promise...you’ll give Camilla...gift yourself.”
“I promise I’ll put her gift in her hands,” he said, not wanting to think about actually doing the deed.
“Other present—promise me...you...give to my nephew...have to...give to him, no one else...want him to see a soldier. Don’t give to Camilla... Promise me even though—”
“I promise to put the present in your nephew’s hands myself.”
Thane’s eyes fluttered open and for an instant Noah felt a shock as Thane looked intently at him.
“I promise to place it in the baby’s hands,” Noah repeated emphatically, startled by the piercing look from Thane.
The last statement seemed to pacify him as he nodded and closed his eyes. “Get Jake.”
Noah looked around, spotted Jake and shouted at him. He didn’t dare let go of the blood-soaked jackets he held against Thane’s wounds.
“Jake,” he shouted again and jerked his head when Jake looked around.
Noah turned back to tell Thane that Jake was coming. Anxiety filled him as he saw Thane’s eyes were closed, his head turned away. Noah felt for a pulse and was surprised to find one. “Thane,” he shouted, trying to keep the man awake until medics arrived. “Thane, stay with me.”
Jake slipped down beside Noah just as another explosion ripped the ground in front of them. “Thane wants you to have this key,” Noah said, handing a small key to his friend. “He’ll tell you what he wants you to do. Hold these against his wounds. Where the hell is the chopper?”
“I don’t know, but last I heard it’s coming.”
“It better get here soon. He’s lost too much blood.” He leaned close to Thane’s ear.
“Thane, here’s Jake,” Noah shouted and moved away as Jake took over keeping pressure on Thane’s wounds.
“Hang on, Thane. Help is coming,” Jake shouted, leaning close to Thane as the man stared blankly at him.
Noah moved away, pausing when he heard another sound besides the bursts of gunfire and the explosion of a grenade. Were they going to get some help? He opened his hand that was smeared with Thane’s dried blood. A brass key lay in his palm and Noah drew a deep breath. He didn’t want to go home and give Camilla a gift from Thane. When they broke up, he didn’t expect to ever be with her again and it still hurt to think about her.
He didn’t want to see her, talk to her or do anything to stir up old feelings. It had hurt to walk away but he had and now he had to go back to her. He wondered whether he would ever reach a point where he would stop thinking about her.
Noah
Six months later, in July, Noah was no longer a Ranger in the US Army. He’d been honorably discharged, armed now with a list of things he needed to do before he settled back into civilian life and took over his ranch again. He’d systematically run through the list until, after tonight, there was only one thing left to do—take Thane’s packages to Camilla and her baby. He didn’t want to see either of them, but he would keep his promise to Thane. He stood holding two packages. He guessed the one for her baby was a book—that was what it felt like. Both packages were wrapped in what looked like the brown paper of grocery sacks at home. Used paper with wrinkles smoothed out. The other package for Camilla was a box. It wasn’t deep, but it was bigger than the book. Each one was tied with brown twine. Neither box felt heavy. A simple delivery. Just hand them to her and get the hell out of her life again. Just the thought of seeing her was stirring up too many unwanted memories.
The first weekend back he’d gone home to see his parents in Dallas. He’d hugged his mother while Betsy Grant had wiped away tears as she smiled at him.
“Mom, don’t cry,” he’d said.
“I’m just so happy you’re home.”
“I’m happy to be home and I’ll never understand crying for happiness.”
Smiling, she’d wiped her eyes and patted his cheek. “Someday you will. Someday you’ll have tears of joy and relief in your eyes.”
“Don’t wish that on me,” he’d said, laughing. As he’d hugged her, he’d realized she felt a lot more frail than she had when he had hugged her goodbye before he’d left for Afghanistan.
His dad’s handshake had been firm, his smile as warm as ever, but Cal Grant’s skin had looked pale.
Tonight he returned to the family Tudor mansion in Dallas and walked in to see his siblings. Noah stepped to Hallie to hug her lightly. His sister-in-law was still a beautiful woman, tall, blonde and brown-eyed.
“We’re glad you’re home,” she said, smiling at him.
He turned to his middle brother and gazed into blue eyes slightly lighter than his own. The two looked alike, except Ben had wavy black hair, not thick black curls like Noah. Noah wrapped his arms around Ben, Hallie’s husband, and hugged him. “I’m glad to see you,” he said, meaning it.
“I’m glad you’re here, bro. Eli was sorry he couldn’t get here tonight. He couldn’t get out of a dinner where he’s a speaker.”
“I’ll see him soon.”
“Come sit and let everyone talk to you,” his mother said as they all walked into the big familiar living room with comfortable sofas and chairs. “You can’t imagine how glad we all are that