Chapter 32

Six weeks later

 

Rad threw the pillow across his head, trying to blot out an irritating ringing sound. After a few moments, his weary brain began to function enough to realize it was the phone lying beside the bed. As he reached for it, he noticed the time—0500.

“Radcliff here.”

“It’s Pops.”

Rad glanced at the time again and struggled to catch his breath. Knowing that Pops and the whole team were deployed caused the blood to rush out of his heart before he even heard another word.

“We have an Eagle down.”

Rad heard a slight tremor in Pops’ usually calm voice even through the bad connection. He waited for him to continue.

“It’s Wynn.”

Rad sat straight up. “How bad?”

“Don’t know anything yet.” The line went silent for a moment, except for the sound of heavy breathing. “Dude, it’s bad.”

“Heather know yet?”

“Negative.”

“On my way. Keep me posted.”

The line went dead.

 

Rad groaned as he threw his legs over the side of the bed. Getting his joints moving in the morning was the hardest part of the day. After letting Tara out for a few minutes, he threw on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, and splashed some water on his unshaven face.

It would only take about thirty minutes to drive to Heather’s. He hated the thought of getting her out of a warm bed and had no idea what he was going to say once he did it.

Even though he had plenty of time to think about it on the ride over, Rad mostly thought about Wynn and the guys. What had gone wrong? Had he let his brothers down by not being there? Could he have done something to prevent it?

His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he continued to wrestle with the idea of retiring from active duty. With his reenlistment date approaching in less than a year, he had to make a decision. Most of the time he leaned toward going back for one more, rationalizing that what he needed most was to do what he did best.

After sitting the last few months out for his recuperation, Rad was straining at the leash to get back into the action. He knew it would probably sound strange to most people, but the acrid scent of gunpowder to him was like the smell of freshly brewed coffee to most people. A sunset filtered through the smoke of a burning building or bomb drop was captivating. Even the constant need for caution and carefulness was a vital part of his being. Everything harsh and unnerving about being in a war zone energized and excited him.

Anyway, what would he do if he got off this fast-moving train and tried to assimilate into civilian life? After moving at an “all in, all the time” pace for all these years, he wasn’t sure a slower lifestyle would appeal to him. Plus, he felt it was his duty to defend his country as long as his body was able to do it.

But was he able to do it? Could he keep up with the new guys? Rad had spent the last fourteen years of his life trying to be the best soldier he could be, but he was not getting any younger. Even though he was close to being fully recovered from his injury, he still had more than the average aches and pains for a man his age. His mind drifted to Lauren. If she were by his side, things would be different. Clearer. Right.

But she wasn’t. Since losing her again he’d started his search all over, leaving no stone unturned in trying to discover her whereabouts. He pleaded, questioned, implored—and sometimes threatened—in an effort to get someone to give him a lead. But those who had known she was in the hospital had apparently been kept in the dark as to where she was now.

Was she being cared for somewhere close to him? Or on the other side of the country? He had no way of knowing. It felt like he was trapped in a nightmare or stuck in the middle of the Twilight Zone.

Not knowing her whereabouts or where to even look, tormented Rad during the day and haunted his dreams at night. He’d not slept more than a few hours straight since the last time he’d seen her, and knew it probably showed. Night after night she came to him in his sleep, calling his name and crying for help. And night after night, he’d run toward the sound of her voice, searching blindly for her in the darkness. When he’d finally see her and reach for her hand, he’d wake up sweating, exhausted, and gasping for breath.

She was always just beyond his grasp.

Rad pushed those thoughts away and focused on Heather. This was going to be hard on her. No matter the ultimate outcome, the next few hours—possibly days and weeks—were going to be difficult. Not knowing when, or if, you would ever see the person you loved again was a feeling comparable to no other—like having your heart squeezed by a giant fisted hand. Being told your loved one was injured, alone, and thousands of miles away, would only add to the awful torment.

As he turned onto Wynn’s road and drove by the large, dark houses, Rad pictured the occupants snug in their beds with no knowledge of what was occurring half a world—and half a block—away. Their idea of stress and suffering was seeing their electric bill double or enduring the loss of a game by their favorite sports team. They had no idea what was happening outside of their doorsteps or beyond their own little world.

Rad entertained little doubt these people supported their country and their troops, but to them that meant flying the flag or celebrating the Fourth of July. Maybe they knew the guy down street was in the military and was gone for long periods of time, but they didn’t pause to think about the long hours he spent suffering in the cold mountains of Afghanistan or about his fiancée sleeping alone, worrying about his safety night after night. The war on terror wasn’t on their radar. It was someplace else and someone else’s job to fight. The discrepancy between those who put their lives on the line every day and those who enjoyed a life of freedom because of it, was strikingly clear.

When he finally pulled into the driveway, Rad felt like his chest was going to explode. He turned off the engine and took a deep breath to control his pounding heart. He’d rather be out on the battlefield taking enemy fire than do the job that lay before him. Heather was a sensible woman, strong. But she was devoted to Wynn. Rad wasn’t sure how she would handle his news—if she could handle it. To be counting down the days until your wedding one moment, and then praying you’d just get to see your loved one again the next, was a lot to ask of a twenty-eight-year-old. How would she recover if she lost him before she could even claim him as her husband?

Rad sat in his truck, staring at the small rancher a moment. Wynn’s house—and pretty much his second home—was a cozy, inviting little place, right down to the white picket fence that ran around the yard. Rad smiled. Dilapidated white picket fence that is. Heather had been after Wynn to repair and paint it for months.

He had to give Heather credit. She’d done a lot of work sprucing up the interior since moving in a few months ago, insisting it would take the better part of a year to get the man cave, as she called it, up to her standards before officially moving in as Wynn’s wife.

Rad’s heart kicked again. Let’s get this done.

Walking to the door, Rad noticed the kitchen light was on. Good. Maybe she was already up. That would make things a little easier.

After ringing the doorbell, he saw the curtains move, and the door opened almost immediately. Heather stood there in sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt that had to be Wynn’s.

“Rad? What the heck are you doing up and around so early?” She ran her eyes across his unshaven face and smiled. “Or maybe you just haven’t gone to bed yet.”

If Rad had figured out what he was going to say beforehand, the words completely left him now. Heather stood in front of him casually braiding her hair to the side, smiling with such a carefree, innocent expression, he found it difficult to breathe, let alone talk.

The awkward silence that ensued apparently alarmed her, and the smile disappeared.

Rad cleared his throat. “Can I come in?”

The expression on Heather’s face changed from warm and welcoming to one of fear—and then anger—before returning to fear again. For a moment he thought she was actually going to refuse him and close the door as if that would make whatever he was going to tell her go away. But at last she lifted her chin and opened the door for him.

Once he was inside, she took a deep breath and turned to face him. She still didn’t say anything. Just waited for him to speak.

“I don’t know any details, Heather.”

She nodded, her chin and lips trembling. “He’s still alive?”

Rad nodded, even though he was thinking, God, I hope so.

“I wanted to be here when you got the official word.”

“Because you know it’s bad.” The words were stated as a fact, not a question as she looked up at him with fawn-like brown eyes that glistened unnaturally.

“That’s what they think in the field.” He knew it was best to be honest with her. “But it always seems that way when a brother is down.”

He took a step toward her and wrapped his arms around her. “You don’t have to handle this alone. I want you to know that.”

She cried softly in his arms a moment as she absorbed the news and comprehended what it would mean. Then she began to cry harder.

“Heather, we don’t know anything yet.” Rad rubbed her back, trying to comfort her. “Don’t let your mind make it worse than it is.”

She shook her head against him. “You d-d-don’t understand.” Choking sobs left her almost unable to speak. “I’m pregnant.”

Rad’s heart jumped into his throat in jubilation for the length of a heartbeat, and then landed hard in his gut. He closed his eyes tightly as he thought about Wynn’s love of children and how desperately he looked forward to being a father.

“Wynn doesn’t know?” His voice cracked despite his best attempt to sound calm and in control.

“I didn’t want him to worry about me while he was deployed.”

Rad pulled her out to arm’s length and shook her gently. “Listen. You’re going to have to take care of yourself through this, do you hear me?”

She nodded, but her eyes were slightly glazed as if not completely comprehending what was happening.

“Do you see these shoulders?” Rad shook her again.

She lifted her eyes to his broad shoulders and nodded again.

“They’re here to hold you up, to carry you if necessary. Got it?”

“I got it,” she murmured. “I’m okay.”

But Rad could tell she was not okay. Her entire body was trembling, and he wasn’t sure how much longer she was going to remain standing. Guiding her over the couch, he made her sit down. “Look Heather. We’ll get through this. Just take some deep breaths.”

Heather nodded with her face in her hands, but her shoulders shook as she sobbed. “This has to be a bad dream.” She glanced at Rad as if to see if he was really there, and then started crying again. “It can’t be real.”

“I’m sorry, Heather.” Rad tried to keep his own voice from quivering. “We need to stay positive. We might be making this worse than it is.”

She wiped her face with an oversized sleeve. I-I couldn’t sleep last night. It’s like I knew something was wrong. I even put his sweatshirt on to feel closer to him.”

“He knows you’re pulling for him, honey.” Rad squeezed her shoulder. “That will help him get through this.”

“But how will I get through it?” she whimpered. “He’s the strong one, the one I lean on. I need him.”

Rad pulled her back into his arms. “You’ll find out how strong you are. Wynn knows he can count on you.”

Heather sniffled for a few more minutes before turning to a table behind the couch for a tissue. “I was getting ready to make some coffee.” She dabbed her eyes. “I’m sure you could use some.”

“I’ll get it. You take it easy.”

Rad strode into the kitchen and filled the container with water. As he dumped it into the coffeemaker, his hand shook.

“You’re as worried as I am.” Heather’s voice came from just behind him.

Rad forced a laugh as he measured out the coffee, but he didn’t turn around. He didn’t want Heather to see his face. “I guess we’ll have to fight over him when he gets back.”

He hoped his tone sounded more convincing than he felt. Pops had not sounded very optimistic, and as he thought back on the conversation, he wondered if he had actually been preparing him for the worst.

“I hope the phone rings soon.” Heather walked back and forth beside the kitchen table, her oversized slippers making a scuffing sound on the hardwood floor.

Rad nodded. She was a military wife—almost anyway—and knew a phone call would mean he was still alive. The last thing either one of them wanted to hear was the sound of the doorbell.

“How long will we have to wait do you think?” Heather took two mugs out of the cupboard and set them on the counter. Her voice sounded calm, but her hands shook and her eyes were brimming again.

“It’s hard to say. Waiting is going to be the hardest part.” Rad didn’t want to say it, but he wasn’t sure Pops was even out of harm’s way when he had called. The connection was bad, but he could have sworn he’d heard sporadic gunfire. It would be just like Pops to send word so Rad could have a head start in protecting Heather from the media.

Rad glanced at the small television sitting on top of the refrigerator. His jaw clenched when he saw it was on and turned to a news channel. Instead of following his first instinct of ripping it out of the wall and throwing it out the door, he turned to take Heather’s arm and lead her from the room. But something on the screen caught his eye and he stopped.

“What’s that about?” He nodded toward the TV just as the reporter covering the story mentioned the name “the former Angela Powers.”

Heather looked at the television and her expression turned to one of disdain. “Haven’t you heard? It’s going to be the biggest society event of the year.”

Rad shook his head as he stared at the picture of Angie walking out of a nightclub holding hands with Joey Stanton, the lead singer for one of the hottest rock bands in the country. “She’s marrying him?”

“Umm-hmm.” Heather nodded. “She’s been divorced for more than a month now. I’m surprised it took her so long.”

For the first time, Rad saw the trace of a smile on Heather’s face. He led her back toward the living room, pleased that her thoughts had been diverted from Wynn, even if it was only for a few minutes. “I wonder if we’re invited,” he mused.

That made Heather laugh. “Don’t hold your breath. I get the feeling you’re no longer on her ‘A’ list.”

“Well, I wish her future husband luck anyway.”

“No you don’t.”

Yes, I do.” There was no humor in his tone now. “Seriously, he’ll need it.”

Heather smiled pensively, but the amusement soon drained from her expression as her thoughts returned to Wynn. When she raised her gaze, rekindled pain flickered there despite obvious efforts to stay strong. “Thanks for being here, Rad.”

He ignored the comment. “What did you have planned for today?”

“I’m supposed to go into the office at nine.”

“What’s the number?” Rad walked over to the phone. “I’ll tell them you won’t be in.”

Heather wiped tears from her eyes as quickly as they formed. “Maybe I should go. Maybe it will keep my mind off things.”

“You really think you’ll be able to get any work done?”

Heather shook her head while biting a fingernail. “No. You’re right.” She rubbed her temples. “I can’t think straight.”

Rad wrote down the number and glanced at his watch. It was too early to get hold of anyone now. He’d wait another hour.

“Really, Rad. I don’t know how to thank you for this.”

Before he could say anything, the phone rang. They both froze.

“Do you want me to get it?” Rad put his hand on her shoulder to calm her.

“N-no. I’ll get it.”

“Hello? Yes, this is Heather Kane.” Her voice shook only slightly.

“Yes.”

Rad watched her swallow hard, and then her chin began to tremble.

“No, I don’t understand. Hold on.” She handed Rad the phone and walked away with her hands covering her face, her shoulders heaving with the sobs she tried to suppress.

“This is Michael Radcliff.” His voice sounded calm and commanding, even though it was not what he was feeling. “I’m here on behalf of Miss Kane.”

After a few questions about his relationship, the voice on the phone explained what they had already told Heather.

Matthew Wynn had been hit with shrapnel from an RPG close to his spine. He was in a drug-induced coma and on life support.

“Is he going to make it?” Rad suddenly felt like Heather. Unable to hear. Unable to comprehend.

The person on the other end of the line ignored the question. “He’s being flown to Landstuhl this afternoon. You’ll probably get an update from there.”

Then the line went dead.

Rad stood unmoving, still holding the phone in his hand.

“What am I going to do, Rad?” Heather’s voice beside him made him realize he was not the only one in the room. She laid her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around him. He could feel her whole body tremble. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Be strong, Heather.” Rad put the phone down and wrapped his arms around her. “He’d want you to be strong.”

Rad thought back to that night in the car when he’d discovered he’d lost Lauren again. He wondered how he would have made it through without Wynn and Heather holding him up. Now she was the one who was inconsolable, sobbing hysterically at the thought she might lose Wynn, and he didn’t know what to do or say.

“I can’t live without him. I don’t even want to try.”

The facts had finally hit her. Hard as she’d tried to stay strong, the truth of the matter was Wynn might not be coming home, and even if he did, things were going to be different. He helped her over to the sofa to sit down again, afraid her trembling legs would give out.

“What would Wynn do if he knew you were this upset?” He wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

“He’d say, ‘Heather, get a grip. Time to cowboy up.’” She smiled at Rad through her tears. “That’s what you’re thinking too, right?”

Rad shook his head. “I’m not saying this is going to be easy, Heather. But worrying—”

“Won’t solve anything,” she finished for him.

“I’ll call Annie if you want.”

Heather nodded, and then stood. “No. Maybe not. Not yet. It will just make her worry about Pops.”

She began wandering around the living room, fluffing pillows and rearranging knickknacks as she talked, as if that somehow helped her think. “Let’s wait until we get some real news. And that the rest of them are safe.”

Rad nodded, amazed at her strength. Wynn had always said the ones at home had the tougher job. He was right.

Heather moved toward the small room off the living room. “When he gets home, he might have to sleep in your room if he can’t make it up the stairs. Maybe we should start getting it ready.”

Rad strode to the doorway of the room he always used when he was unfit to drive home. It was really Wynn’s exercise room and Heather’s sewing room, all mixed up with some spare boxes of books and a fairly comfortable sofa. He’d spent more nights than he cared to remember—or could remember—in this room.

“Might as well wait until we know what’s going on.” Rad glanced around the room, assessing what would need to be done. “I’ll be sleeping here the next few nights, so don’t plan on kicking me out yet.”

Heather walked up and threw her arms around him again. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay.”

“No arguments. I’m staying.” He put one arm around her waist. “You don’t know what time of the day or night you might hear something.”

She nodded against him. “You’re right. I can’t do this without you.”

“How about some breakfast?” Rad let her go and headed toward the kitchen. “I make a mean omelet.”

Heather smiled through her tears again. “Really? You cook?”

“Don’t tell me Wynn never told you of my prowess in the kitchen.”

Heather followed him and showed him where the pans were. “No. He might have mentioned your prowess elsewhere, but definitely not in the kitchen.”

Rad chuckled. “That’s logical, I suppose.” He grabbed the eggs out of the refrigerator. “He was probably afraid if you knew I could find my way around a kitchen, you’d make him learn.”

“I don’t care if he can’t cook.” Heather’s chin began to tremble again. “I just want him back.”

Rad put the eggs down and wrapped his arms around her again. “We’ll get him back, honey. And someday we’ll laugh about how scared we were for him.”

Heather pulled away and searched his face with a panicked expression. “You’re scared too?”

Rad closed his eyes and pursed his lips. Damn, why can’t I find the right words?

“I just wish it were me, Heather.” He put a hand on each shoulder. “I’d give anything to switch places with him so neither one of you had to go through this.”

“You’re a good friend. Thanks for being here.” She paused a moment. “He really looks up to you, you know? Like an older brother.”

“I’m not that much older.” Rad turned and put the pan on the stove. “Anyway, seriously,” he said, glancing back at her. “He’s one hell of a man—and a soldier. He’s going to make a great husband too.”

She smiled and bit her lip, blinking back a fresh set of tears. “And father.”

“Yeah.” Rad nodded and smiled. “And father.”

Heather took a deep breath and changed the subject. “How’s your leg doing anyway? Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

“I got it. Just relax.”

“You still in a lot of pain?”

“No, it’s not bad.” Rad turned and glanced at her over his shoulder. “Except during PT. Those women thrive on torture.”

Heather sat down at the table. “Wynn said you got an award or something for… what you did. He didn’t tell me much about it, except that it’s a pretty big deal.”

Rad noticed she didn’t mention the rescue or Lauren’s name, and he was grateful. He’d gladly give up every medal and commendation he’d ever received to have her back in his arms. He decided to change the subject.

“I talked to McDunna. If things keep going the way they are, I should be ready for the next deployment.”

“Why would you want to go risk your life for those people?” Heather’s voice was loud and angry. She put her head down on the table and sobbed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t talk like that.”

“I don’t do it for them, Heather.” Rad walked over and put his hand on her shoulder. “I do it for you and your future kids.”

“I know. You guys are so good at what you do.” She took a deep breath. “The country is lucky to have you.”

Rad turned back to the stove. “Wynn is like a brother to me. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“It’s going to be hard the next few days, but don’t let yourself think about the what-ifs. It doesn’t do any good to worry about what we can’t control.”

“You’re right.” Heather nodded. “We’ll deal with whatever hand God deals us.”