Chapter Seven

“Get back on the stretcher and I’ll pull these off the rest of the way,” she ordered in a brusque tone and squared her shoulders. How had she missed these scars that night in the motel room?

He did as she asked and she took the jeans and folded them as neatly as possible, setting them on top of the small table next to the rack of pamphlets on spotting the symptoms of strokes.

She cleared her throat, but a doctor stepping around the curtain prevented her from asking about the scars. The young doctor had a stethoscope looped around his neck and held a clipboard. He pulled a small black stool up to the stretcher, and sat down.

After introducing himself and glancing at the chart, he said, “They tell me you took the short way off the roof.”

Riley huffed out a laugh, and then winced. The doctor made a note on his chart.

“You could say that,” Riley said.

The doctor took down Riley’s medical history and then did his evaluation. “Are you allergic to any medications?”

“No.”

“I’m going to order something for pain and get pictures of those ribs and your wrist, and we’ll take it from there.”

After the doctor left, Meg stood up and refolded his jeans and torn T-shirt, smoothing and rearranging them on the table. Riley touched her arm and her motions stilled.

“I’m okay,” he whispered.

She tucked her chin. “It’s all my fault. I—”

“Stop it.” He squeezed her arm. “I should have—”

A nurse stepped around the curtain.

“Okay, Sergeant Cooper, I’m going to give you an injection for pain before we get you over to Radiology.” She placed a couple of syringes and two vials of medicine on the silver stand beside the stretcher and entered more information into the computer, once again asking him to verify his name and vital stats. After explaining the medications, the nurse lowered his waistband and gave him the shot in the hip. “Now...” She put a Band-Aid over the site, adjusted his gown and pulled a sheet over his hips. “Let’s get you over to Radiology.” She looked at Meg as she brought the rails up on the stretcher. “You can wait here, if you like. He’ll be back in about ten or fifteen minutes.”

Meg glanced around the room while she waited for Riley. She wrung her hands and hoped this would turn out to be one of those incidents that in time would become an amusing anecdote.

Amusing or not, she’d begun pacing by the time they wheeled Riley back. The assistant arranged the stretcher back into its original position, engaged the brake and left with a smile and a “someone will be right with you.”

He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her close. “What’s wrong?”

“How can you even ask that? I’ve been worried about you.”

He put his arm around her and pressed her forehead against his hard, albeit bruised, chest. “I’m fine.”

She pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Did they tell you that?”

“I don’t need anyone to tell me how I feel.” He rubbed his uninjured hand up and down her back.

“You just know it?” She wanted to hit him for sounding so cavalier. She wanted to hold him tight and soothe his injuries.

“Yup.”

She heaved a sigh. “I should have called a professional roofer like you said.”

“And I should have been more careful. You warned me about the part above the porch.” He put a finger under her chin and forced her head up. His gaze captured hers, his voice a low rumble. “Listen to me. I know a little something about regret. Wishing you could have acted sooner or differently won’t change a damn thing. All it does it eat away at your insides until there’s nothing left.”

He wasn’t talking about falling off the roof. Was he referring to something that had happened in Afghanistan?

Talk about regrets—she had enough to last a lifetime. Why had she given up trying to reach him in Afghanistan to tell him about Fiona? Her pride would have been cold comfort if something had happened to him over there.

This wasn’t the time or place to confess, but maybe she could start paving the way. But before she could say anything the doctor appeared and she stepped back. Riley dropped his arm and let her go.

The doctor glanced from one to the other and cleared his throat. “Well, good news, Sergeant Cooper. Nothing is broken. You have several bruised ribs and a minor sprain to your wrist. You’ll need to wear a splint on the wrist for a couple of weeks, keep it elevated and use ice for the swelling. Ice for the ribs, as well, and periodic deep breathing to expand the lungs. No binding, though, as it hinders the deep breathing and could cause pneumonia. Your nurse will be in shortly with your splint and discharge instructions.”

* * *

By the time Meg pulled up to the emergency entrance to collect her patient, Riley had mellowed from the shot for pain. Although he let the nurse know what he thought of the indignity, he sat in the wheelchair with very little fuss. He even let the two women help him get into the passenger seat.

His eyes had drifted closed before Meg exited the hospital parking lot and pulled into the late-day traffic. Thank goodness it wasn’t tourist season yet, so the late-afternoon traffic was steady but not too bad. Meg was still getting used to driving his large pickup.

“I’m going to stop at the pharmacy and get your pain meds filled and I’ll pick up stuff for ice packs.”

“Ice packs?” He roused himself and opened one eye.

“They said you might want to ice the ribs and the wrist to help with the pain.”

She ran into the pharmacy and picked up items while waiting for the prescription. Score one for small-town living.

Riley opened his eyes and attempted to sit straighter when she got back. She opened the pills and one of the bottles of water and handed them to him.

“They gave me that shot at the hospital.”

“And they also said to take these to keep ahead of the pain. So do it.” She shoved the bottle and pills at him.

He grumbled but took the pill and drank the water.

She started the engine and backed out of the spot. “So, how are you feeling?”

“Fine,” he mumbled.

Now she knew how Riley must’ve felt when she was always telling him she was fine. He’d fallen asleep by the time she parked in front of her house. She ran up and opened her front door and left it standing open. Back at the truck, she opened the passenger door and squatted down. “Riley?”

She shook him.

“Huh? What?” He opened his eyes and stared at her. “Meggie? What’re you doing here?”

“I live here.”

He glanced around and frowned. “The roof...”

“Yes, you fell. Remember?” She reached over and undid his seat belt. “We should get you inside.”

“Mmm...strawberries.” He sniffed her. “Did I ever tell you how much I like your hair?”

“You used to make fun of it.” She lifted his legs out. “Here, lean on me.”

“Where we goin’?” He slid out of the truck.

“I need to get you into bed.”

“It’s about time.” He reached for her but swayed and had to lean against the truck. “Been dreamin’ ’bout you... Do you dream about me?”

More than you’ll ever know. “Uh-huh. Now, let’s get you inside.”

“Did you miss me, Meggie, ’cause I sure missed you.”

“You did?” She stumbled and was surprised they both didn’t end up face-first in the gravel.

“I messed up.” He shook his head. “So many times. Sweet Meggie, so many.”

“What?”

“What?” he mimicked and looked at her, his eyes not quite focused.

Her heart pounded in her chest and she had trouble breathing, but she asked, “What did you mess up?”

“Huh?” He scowled. “I...don’t...but it was bad.”

She stopped and he bumped against her. Was he talking about returning her letters or something else, something that was causing his nightmare?

“Meggie? I...need to...lie down.”

“Okay, but let’s get you inside first.”

Slowly they made their way onto the porch.

“Meggie?”

“What?” She pushed the door open wider.

“S-sorry I broke your pretty chair.”

She glanced at the pile of wood that used to be her Adirondack chair. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Inside, she helped him over to the couch. “I’m going to go and get Liam’s old room ready. I think it’s best if you stay here until you have use of both hands again.”

Before going to bed that night, she checked on him, but he was snoring softly. She got the night-light from Fiona’s room and plugged it into an outlet next to the bed. She set a bottle of water on the nightstand along with his bottle of painkillers and smoothed out the blanket, her gaze lingering on his sleeping form. She couldn’t prevent her fingers from running ever so lightly down his cheek. He’d said earlier that he’d messed up and she desperately wanted to believe he’d been talking about not contacting her after he deployed, but she was afraid. Afraid to hope for something that wouldn’t happen once she told him the truth about Fiona. He’d hate her and she wouldn’t blame him. Turning on her heel, she left and went to her own room.

After washing up and brushing her teeth, she changed into her soft flannel nightshirt. It might be May but the evenings were still cool. She pulled back the covers and crawled between the sheets. Without Fiona the house lacked warmth. Hugging the extra pillow to her chest, she finally drifted off to sleep.

She awoke with a start. At first she wasn’t sure what had woken her, and then realized she’d heard the toilet flush. Riley. She threw off the covers and rushed into the hall.

He was coming out of the bathroom. Although it was dark in the hall, light spilled out from the night-lights in the bathroom and guest room. Enough light for her to see he was—oh, dear Lord! He was naked. She shouldn’t look. Really, she—Oh, how could she not?

“Sorry if I woke you.” He propped himself against the door frame.

“That’s okay... I... I...” She tried to swallow but her tongue scratched like sandpaper over the roof of her mouth. “Did you know you’re...naked?” Her voice rose on that last word.

“Nothing slips past you.”

“Why?” she managed before clamping her mouth shut. Adult women did not giggle hysterically at the sight of a naked man.

“Why what?”

She grabbed her elbows to keep from reaching for him, to keep from running her hands over that splendid male body. “Huh?”

He straightened, pulling away from the door frame, and the light, no longer blocked by his body, spilled into the hallway and onto him. “You asked me why.”

“I... I did?”

“You did.” He stalked toward her. “I’m going to assume you were asking why I took off my skivvies. I got tired of fumbling with one hand and tore them off.”

She took a step back and tried not to stare—no, really, she did try. But her gaze zeroed in on a particular part of his anatomy. The part that rose a little with each step he took.

“Is that what you were asking me, Meg?”

“I... I... Uh.” How the hell she managed to look him in the face, she couldn’t say. “Did...uh, did you need anything?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

Me? Please, please let it be me. “W-what did you need?”

“A glass of water to take another pain pill.”

“Oh.” Disappointment laced her tone. What had she been expecting? Declarations of undying love? At this point, she was willing for a declaration of good, old-fashioned lust. She cleared her throat before saying, “I thought I’d left a bottle of water on the nightstand.”

“You did.” He held up his sprained hand. “I was having trouble getting it open.”

She drew her brows together. It was taking all of her willpower to keep meeting his gaze instead of looking down, and the effort was affecting her mental capabilities. “Oh... Oh! Geez, how could I have been so stupid? Let me get you a glass.”

“No need. Open the bottle for me. We can leave the cap off.”

“Oh...sure.” She clamored into his room. She’d go open his water bottle, leave the cap off and then go straight back to bed. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. And do not, under any circumstances, do not look at his—

“If you keep squeezing it like that, there won’t be any water left.” He reached around her and tugged the bottle from her hand. He threw a pill into his mouth and took a sip of the water and set it back down.

“Oh... I...well...” She wiped her hands on her sleepshirt and ignored the puddle at her feet. “I better just...and—”

“Lie down with me.” He stood close and danced his fingertips over the back of her neck. Leaning down, he whispered, “I want to feel you next to me. Please.”

His breath caressed her cheek and blew the hair around her ear, melting her defenses. “I don’t want to hurt your ribs or your wrist.”

“You won’t.” He placed a light kiss on her temple. “My left side is the worst. You can sleep on the right.”

She sighed and he urged her closer, cajoling, “You know you want to.”

She did. God help her, she did. He pulled the covers back and slipped into the bed, patting the empty spot next to him. She called herself all kinds of a fool, but followed him into the bed. He put his arm around her and she snuggled up against his side, enjoying the solid warmth next to her. She luxuriated in the feeling of belonging, of feeling secure. Watch out. Don’t get used to it. Riley was returning to Afghanistan. Meg McBride wasn’t enough to hold a man like Riley Cooper in a Podunk little town like Loon Lake.

He rested his cheek against her hair and she snuggled closer. “I shouldn’t have disappeared on you, but I needed to clear my head before the funeral.”

“You could’ve said something. I would have understood.” She splayed her fingers over his heart. “I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like trying to make that transition, but I can respect your need for space.”

“Can you forgive me?”

“Always.” She ran her fingers through the fine hairs on his chest.

He yawned and she struggled to sit up, but he held her tight.

“You need to rest.”

“I can do that better with you here...beside me.” His hand caressed her neck and shoulder, where he had placed his arm around her.

The callus on his thumb sent shivers of awareness shooting through her. “Are the painkillers working?”

“Mmm, they’ve taken the edge off. The abrasions aren’t anything compared to shrapnel.”

“The scars on your legs?”

“And other places.”

“What happened?”

She waited, but when he remained silent, she sighed and figured he didn’t want to talk about it. She needed to respect that. Laying her hand against his side, she said, “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I want to but it’s...it’s not easy. There’s a lot I don’t even remember. Those are the parts I have nightmares about.”

She remained silent, ready to listen to whatever he had to tell her. Maybe if she knew what had happened to him over there, she’d have a better understanding of him, who he was now.

He blew out his breath. “I learned that even the most insignificant decisions could have deadly consequences.”

She shifted closer to him. “I know you, Riley Cooper. I’m sure you always did the best you could.”

He gave a mirthless laugh. “Tell that to PFC Alex Trejo’s parents. Their only child came home in a flag-draped coffin.”

“Tell me what happened. Sometimes it helps to get things out in the open.” She had no right to say something like that. No right at all. She was holding on to one of the biggest secrets ever. But right now this was about Riley and if talking about something would help him, she needed to listen.

“We were ordered to clear a village of insurgents. That meant going from building to building and checking. We went into a school... There...there were still children inside.” He swallowed hard. “We thought we’d gotten them all, when one of them told us there were still three children on the third floor. I ordered Trejo to come with me and we went up but couldn’t find anyone. We were egressing. The others had already moved on... I was first to reach the stairs but the stench was bad in that place and it was hot... The sweat was getting in my eyes and I paused to wipe them... He got ahead of me...made some smart-ass comment...”

She dropped featherlight kisses on his shoulder and waited for him to continue.

“I don’t even remember what he said or what I said in return...it was just trash talk...a coping mechanism. God, why can’t I remember the last thing I said to him...?”

He drew in a breath and continued, “I didn’t know it at the time but learned later someone lobbed an M-67 Frag at us—that’s a fragmentation grenade.”

“The shrapnel scars on your legs?”

His chin brushed her temple when he nodded and he swallowed before continuing. “Trejo, a kid with his whole life ahead of him, shoved me back and slammed the door in my face. I remember being pissed...then nothing.”

“What happened?” she whispered, afraid to break the spell and have him shut her out again.

“He spotted it first and dove onto the damn thing.” He sighed, his breath disturbing her hair. “He had the presence of mind to slam the door or I would have died, too.”

She clamped her mouth over the words that wanted to come out. He wouldn’t want to hear them. And she didn’t want them to sound like pity. He wouldn’t appreciate that coming from her. And she didn’t pity him. She was sorry for what he’d had to go through but not for the man that he was.

“He...he sacrificed himself to save my sorry ass... I shouldn’t have let anything stop me from leading the way. Trejo had a family to go home to...a family he was homesick for...a real family that wanted him.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “I was in charge. I should have gone down those stairs first. That’s what a leader does.”

His words about family shredded her heart like confetti. I want you... I’ve always wanted you, she screamed inside her head. The expression on his face told her he wasn’t in a place to hear that from her. And she didn’t want to stop him. He needed to get his story out so he could begin to heal.

Still, she needed to comfort him, so she did the only thing she knew. She held him and listened.

Christ, Meggie, I can hear him screaming.” He made a strangled, choking sound. “They told me he was killed instantly, but I can hear him in my head...you know?”

She didn’t say anything, but hugged him tighter, rained kisses on his chest and shoulder.

“I should have gone down those stairs first,” he repeated and made another choking sound.

“Why?” When he didn’t respond she continued, “Don’t diminish his act by feeling responsible or by not thinking you deserve to survive as much as the next man.”

“You sound like that counselor they sent me to.”

“Doctor Meg, that’s me.” She’d tried for a light tone but knew she’d failed.

She kissed his cheek and would have pulled away but his arms clamped around her, crushing her to him. He buried his face in her hair, whispering her name over and over. His lips found hers and pressed. His kiss was desperate, as if he was searching for salvation. And she’d give it to him. Tonight was all that mattered. This night. This man. She kissed him back with her own hungry need. She didn’t realize how close she and Fiona had come to losing him forever. She knew that once she told him about Fiona she might still lose him. He might not ever forgive her. But she needed this, needed one more night, one that might have to last her the rest of her life. She knew now that she would never love any man the way she loved Riley. Her mom had claimed the women in her family loved but once and neither time nor distance extinguished it.

He ran his fingers over her thighs and around her hip. “You have a lot more curves now. So sexy. So beautiful.”

She arched her head back as he nibbled on her earlobe, and ran his tongue along the spot under her ear.

When she moaned, he smiled against her damp skin. “I remember how much you liked that.”

“Yes,” she murmured, lost in the sensations he was creating.

“I’ve never wanted another woman like I’ve wanted you,” he said hoarsely. “Do you want me, Meggie?”

“Yes...only you...only you.”

He groaned and his leg pushed her thighs open. His tongue pressed against the seam of her lips, demanding entry. She opened her mouth and his tongue thrust in, dueling with hers. All thoughts flew out of her head. Sensation ruled.

His hand slid between her legs and found the spot begging for attention, but only skimmed it and instead pushed into her folds.

“Riley...” she groaned.

He slid his finger out to tease her, then increased the pressure, finding a rhythm that had her heels digging into the soft cotton sheets. The tension coiled low in her stomach, making her feet scrape against the mattress.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, she unraveled as if Riley had pulled a knot that she hadn’t even realized was so tight.