“You and Brandon seem to be getting along.”
Anna was glad to see David walking into the kitchen so bright and early on a Saturday morning, but the scowl on his face made her wish she’d just kept her mouth shut about Brandon. But he and the teen had been spending a lot of time together so she couldn’t help but be curious. It seemed to her they’d both benefit from the company.
“The kid needs somebody and I have plenty of time on my hands right now,” David said, without looking up. He grabbed a cup and poured some of the coffee Anna had just brewed. “He’s supposed to meet me here so we can clean out the garage out back. If I build some shelves in there, it would be good for extra storage.”
Surprised and pleased, Anna gasped. “I’ve been trying to get someone to take that job for a very long time. Wow, how’d you get Brandon to agree to help you?”
David shrugged then stared down into his coffee. “It wasn’t easy. At first, he copped an attitude a mile wide. But I just stayed with it, I guess. I’m not a trained counselor, but it’s not hard to figure out the kid needs some adult male guidance. He’s worried about his mom being here all alone and about his dad over there doing such a dangerous job, only he doesn’t like to show that.”
Anna leaned against the counter to stare out the window. “A lot of these kids are that way. They don’t want us to see them upset so they try to be so tough.” She wondered if that was how it had been for David growing up, but she didn’t dare broach that particular subject.
When he didn’t offer up any more explanations or observations, she said, “Anyway, thanks for cleaning the garage. As I said, I’ve had that on my list for months now.”
“I know. Trisha told me.”
Surprised that David and Trisha had even communicated over the last week, Anna smiled. She’d tried so hard to concentrate on work the last few days she’d obviously missed out on some of the things happening right in front of her. “You’re getting to know a lot of people around here.”
“I’m trying.”
She didn’t miss the hint of cynicism in his statement. Hoping to get him out of his bad mood, she said, “Well, I for one appreciate everything you’ve accomplished here. The playground seems to be coming along.” Anna couldn’t believe how much David had done since he’d walked through the doors three weeks ago. And now here he was on a Saturday morning. “You never stop though, do you?”
“Neither do you,” he said, finally meeting her gaze. “And since you’ve managed to avoid me all week long, I think you’re finding extra things to keep you occupied.”
Anna couldn’t deny it. She had been avoiding him. “I’m sorry.” Shielding herself with anger, she turned to leave the room. “But you might recall that I founded this place and it’s up to me to keep it going. And this week I’ve been busy helping to set up a video-phone station so people could come in and actually see their loved ones while they talk to them. So if I seem rude, David, I do apologize.”
He stopped her before she’d made it to the big arch in the kitchen doorway. “Hey, I’m the one who should be sorry. What you do around here is amazing—temporarily taking in helpless children, putting together all the care packages, helping relatives track down their loved ones—I mean, the list goes on and on and here I am complaining because I haven’t seen much of you this week.”
Anna let out a long sigh. “That’s how it works around here. Even after my day is over, there is always something else to be done. I wake up in the middle of the night, thinking about everything and still I can’t seem to accomplish nearly what I’d like to. Sometimes I wonder if it’s all worth it.”
He pulled her around to face him. “It’s always worth it, Anna. Those men and women over there, they need everything you can offer them and then some, and so do their families. The pressure they’re under is ugly and dirty and scary and nonstop. And even now that I’ve been on post for a few weeks, I still have nightmares about it.” He ran a hand over his thick hair. “I wake up in a cold sweat, thinking I’m back in my chopper flying over enemy territory to get a litter of injured soldiers off the battlefield. I see the gunners watching for an attack as I try to land my bird. I mean, I have to sit up in bed and remind myself that I’m home now.”
Anna saw the horror in his eyes. “Which is why you could probably use someone to talk to now and then, too. I should at least take the time to listen.” No matter how miserable she’d be in the process. Even now, she wanted to hug him close and tell him it would be all right, but thoughts of Trisha and the secret they both knew held her back.
He stepped around, frowning. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I just want you to—Never mind. I don’t know what I want.”
“That makes two of us.” She leaned against the doorjamb, enjoying the quiet of an early weekend morning even if having David nearby disrupted that quiet. The staff had Saturdays off, but she had volunteers who came in for a few hours on the weekend so she could have a little rest herself, something Olga had demanded years ago after Anna had worked herself into pneumonia one long winter. Needing to make David smile again, she said, “So what are you really doing here today, besides frowning at me?”
He finally did smile, but it was a weak effort. “Don’t worry, no hidden agenda such as trying to find some alone-time with the boss. I told you—Brandon and I are going to clean out the storage—”
The front door banged open then slammed back on its hinges. Anna and David turned in shock to find Brandon standing there, tears streaming down his face.
“Brandon?” David hurried toward the boy, catching him as he collapsed against one of the chairs scattered around the entryway. “Brandon, son, what’s wrong?”
Brandon wiped at his nose then just sat staring. Anna ran into the kitchen and got a glass of water to bring to him, but when she offered it, Brandon hit at it and the glass went flying.
“Brandon!” David checked to make sure Anna hadn’t been hit.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, more concerned for the distraught teen than for the wet floor or the broken glass. “Brandon, what’s wrong?”
Brandon finally tried to speak but his voice was so hoarse, Anna had to strain to listen. “My dad…is dead.”
“Oh, no.” Anna sank down on the floor beside Brandon’s chair, tears forming in her eyes. “Oh, Brandon. When—”
“They just came to our house a couple of hours ago. Chaplain Steve was with ’em.” He shrugged, going still in the chair. “The sun was coming up and I was up eating some breakfast—I didn’t want to be late. I really didn’t want to be late.”
David glanced over at Anna then back at the boy, his frown now changed to a concerned expression. “Brandon, I’m so sorry. How’s your mom?”
“Some people came to sit with her. I think Miss Olga is there.”
Anna had heard her mother leaving earlier but hadn’t opened her bedroom door to find out where Olga was going. But then, Olga didn’t like to share such news unless she had to. Her mother always went directly to the family first then she worried about telling everyone else later.
“Does your mother know you left the house?” Anna asked, worried about both Brandon and his mom. “She’ll be concerned.”
Brandon lifted his chin. “She was calling after me when I ran out the door.” When Anna started up, he grabbed her arm. “Don’t call her yet, please, Anna. I just…I had to get away.”
David nodded to Anna that it would be all right. Then he put a finger to his lips, his gaze moving over the boy’s pale face. “Let’s just sit here a while, okay?”
Brandon looked straight ahead. Anna’s gaze held David’s, but she nodded okay. And so they sat as the clock on Anna’s desk ticked away the seconds in a slow, calculated cadence. And while they sat, Anna could see Brandon’s pain reflected in David’s dark eyes. She knew how he felt; each time was like reliving it all over again. The sound of tears and sobs, the heartbreak of seeing your mother crumbling into a ball on the floor, the silence, the awful, endless silence of a scream held tightly inside your soul. How did one bear such heartache? How had her mother?
Anna’s heart broke all over again and she realized this, more than keeping a secret for her friend, was why she’d held David at bay. She couldn’t live with that kind of pain.
She looked over at David, tears forming again in her eyes. He attempted a smile, probably to reassure her. But it didn’t work. She watched as he lowered his head and began to pray in a soft whisper. Anna looked at Brandon. The boy sat rigid and unyielding, but David held on to his arm and kept on praying.
Anna closed her eyes and did the same, the quiet of the August morning soothing and palpable as she prayed for Brandon’s family and for all the soldiers in harm’s way. In the silence, she could hear Brandon’s sharp intake of breath, she could hear David’s whispers for mercy and love, for grace and strength. Somewhere outside, she heard a hawk’s lonely keening call up over the trees. Her gaze moved toward the big windows in Caitlyn’s office. Like a touch from God, a piercing shard of pure morning sunlight shot through the windows and made a bright swirling pattern on the hallway rug. Anna stared at it for so long, the light hurt her eyes.
When she looked back up, David was watching her, his eyes devoid of any resentment or bitterness even though he had to be feeling those things for Brandon’s sake. David had known exactly what to do for this troubled young man. He’d understood the silence of unanswered prayers. And the echoes of those prayers that could be answered.
Anna’s gaze locked with David’s then and she realized something she had suspected since the day David had walked off that plane with Ali.
She was in love with him. She had felt this tugging all along, but today, as he sat silent and steady by a scared young boy and simply held on to that boy with all his might, Anna knew that she loved David Ryland with all her heart. But she wasn’t sure what to do about that.
So she, too, held on to Brandon, hoping that connection would keep them both safe by David’s side until she could figure out how to deal with this joyous yet painful feeling inside her heart.
Later that afternoon, David stood outside on the tiny back porch of his apartment, his mind reeling as he relived seeing Brandon coming through the door. He had to close his eyes to the great weight of the pain inside his chest.
But you’ve seen death before, he reminded himself as he felt the heat and humidity of the late-August day hitting him square in the face like a wet handkerchief. He’d lived on the battlefield, taking victims away, some clinging to life, some already gone. He would always hear the sound of roaring engines and whirling rotor blades in his head, inside his dreams. He’d smell the black scents of fuel oil and hydraulic fluid mixed with the salty smell of sweat dripping from his bulletproof helmet and the metallic smells of sickness and death that always permeated the desert air.
Being a medevac pilot had dominated his life since he’d signed up for the army and trained to be a helicopter pilot at Fort Rucker, Alabama, close to eighteen years ago. And his memories of flying helicopters would be in his blood for a very long time, so why was this particular situation getting to him?
Because it’s Brandon. The boy’s hurts had grabbed David from the first time they’d met. And though they’d only know each other a short while, Brandon had reminded David so much of himself that being around the boy had brought back all the memories he’d tried to put aside. But it had also brought out all of his protective instincts, too. It was Brandon, it was Anna and the shock and sadness he’d seen on her face and it was the fact that he needed to mourn a father he would never even know. His father had been dead to David for a long time now.
“I don’t even know if you’re alive or dead, but I have to let you go,” he said, his hands on his hips as he wondered what to do with himself on this lonely Saturday night. He had to get out of this apartment. And he was trying very hard to keep from calling Anna.
He’d left her with her mother at Brandon’s house. David and Anna had taken the boy home and sat with the family for a while, but after telling Brandon he’d be back later, David had bolted. Maybe he was having one of those post-traumatic episodes Chaplain Steve had warned him about. He felt as if his little apartment was closing in on him. He couldn’t breathe.
Wanting, needing some sort of connection to life, David got in his truck and left the post to head into Prairie Springs. Somehow, his truck stopped in front of General Willis’s house and before he knew it, he was ringing the doorbell.
The friendly housekeeper opened the door. “Well, hello, there. The general didn’t tell me you were coming by.”
“Uh, he doesn’t know,” David replied. “I thought I’d check in on Ali.”
“Seems to be that kind of night,” the woman said, waving him on in. “That is one blessed little boy.”
Wondering what the woman was talking about, David went into the large paneled den past the winding staircase. When he heard Ali’s laughter, followed by feminine voices, he stopped inside the door, surprised to find Sarah Alpert, Anna and Trisha sitting on the floor playing a board game with Ali. He hadn’t seen any of their cars outside.
“David,” the general said from his leather recliner. “Come on in and join the party. You know Sarah, don’t you?”
David nodded toward the pretty redhead. “Yes. Good to see you again.”
Sarah clapped her hands as Ali tugged on her shirt and pointed to the game. “Nice to see you, too, David. We’re having a regular party here.”
The general chuckled. “Ali and I were geared up for another lonely bachelor night of popcorn and cartoons. Now I have three lovely women visiting. And one lonely-faced warrant officer. Things are looking up around here.”
David looked at Anna and saw the wonder on her face. But he thought he saw something else there, too. Something close to relief, maybe? Trisha on the other hand looked as uncomfortable as always. But she had the good manners to hide that discomfort behind a greeting.
“Hello, David.”
“What’s going on?” he said, an animated smile on his face for Ali’s sake. “Y’all started the game without me?”
“Didn’t know you were coming,” Trisha said underneath her breath, her gaze moving from David to Anna. Then she added, “We have some pizza left.”
David followed her pointing finger to the oak table in one corner where two pizza boxes sat. “Pepperoni?”
“And veggie,” the general said, making a face. “For the ladies.”
“I might have a slice of whatever’s left,” David said. “That is, if I’m not interrupting.”
“Not at all,” the general replied, pointing to Anna and Trisha. “These two were kind enough to walk over from Anna’s house and help Sarah entertain Ali while I took care of some business earlier. Now Ali won’t let them leave until he beats them at Chutes and Ladders.”
David sank down on the floor, acutely aware that Anna had yet to speak to him. “Tough game. But one I used to be pretty good at myself. Mind if I join in?”
Trisha looked up at him, her smile tentative. “I don’t mind. Do you, Anna?”
Did he sense a bit of a challenge in that question?
Anna looked as skittish as a cornered filly. “I don’t mind at all.” Finally, she glanced up at David. “Why don’t you take my spot and I’ll go and find you something to drink.”
“Okay.” David watched as she walked away, admiring her worn jeans and long cotton tunic top. Then he leaned close to Trisha. “Is she all right?”
Trisha smiled, watching as Sarah tickled Ali and chattered with him. Then she said, “We’re all still a bit rattled by Brandon’s dad being killed. I guess everyone just needed to see Ali tonight.”
The general leaned forward, letting out a cough. “Tough hearing that news. It never gets easy.” The old man stared down at his grandson, his hands folded in his lap. “Ali sure makes it easier on me these days, however. Now, if we can just both stay well.” He glanced around as if he expected Nurse Tilda to rush in with more medicine. But it was just Anna, bringing David his drink and a slice of pizza.
David smiled up at her, relief mixed with remorse. “Same here. I had to see him with my own eyes, to make sure he was okay.” He high-fived the little boy, causing Ali to giggle.
Trisha nodded her understanding then raked a hand over Ali’s dark hair. “This little boy represents hope to us, I think. After all, we all worked on getting him here. He’s safe now, but…when something like this happens, we just need some reinforcement I think. We need to know we can make a difference, somehow.”
David nodded, thinking maybe Trisha went deeper than he’d given her credit for. Reminding himself that she’d just lost her father, too, he said, “I think you’re right. So…it’s okay that I came by?”
“Better than okay, David,” she said. “Anna needs you here. And it’s good to see you again. I mean that.”
David didn’t know why it felt so good to have Trisha’s approval, but her words meant a lot to him. Now, if he could make sure Anna felt the same, he just might make it through this long, hot night and wake up tomorrow with some of that hope Trisha had mentioned.