‘Tate?’ Layla’s mouth opened and closed. His eyes, shadowed with pain, captured hers and wouldn’t let go. She had an impression of a strong jaw and lanky frame but couldn’t look away from the depth of his gaze. Tate? Here? Finally, her addled brains came together enough to make her vocal cords work. ‘Aren’t you in hospital? Overseas?’
‘I requested some leave.’
‘They sent you home?’ Her heart jumped. His injury had to be worse than he’d told her. She looked him over. The short back and sides and his stance screamed army, but even though she knew he’d been badly hurt, it didn’t look like it. This man wore his strength with ease. Her mouth went dry just looking at him.
‘For now. Only because I was injured.’ Tate shifted his weight. ‘Any chance we could sit somewhere? I can’t stand for long periods yet.’
Layla’s brain snapped into gear. She scrubbed her hands down her overalls and said, ‘Of course. The house is closest. This way.’ She fell into step alongside him, matching his careful pace. She hovered at his elbow as he climbed the stairs to the veranda. ‘Do you want to sit out here?’
‘Love to. We don’t get much outside time.’ He glanced around. ‘This is nice. Is that one of your pieces?’
Layla nodded, now regretting the impulse that had seen her displaying the hanging of the gnomes on her front lawn.
‘It wasn’t what I was expecting.’
‘It’s one of my Halloween pieces.’ She made a mental note to pack it up as soon as he left. ‘I’ll get us a drink.’ She almost flew through the screen door, bypassing the kitchen altogether and heading straight for her bedroom.
Tate McAuliffe was sitting on her front veranda.
Heart pounding, she shucked the overalls and dived into the shower, scrubbing the grime from her face and hands. Five minutes later, she’d thrown on the only thing she had ironed, some three-quarter pants and a loose shirt, ran a brush through her hair and was heading back to the kitchen.
She grabbed some glasses and juice and headed back out onto the veranda. Tate was leaning back in his chair, relaxed. He’d taken his sunnies off and she realised he wasn’t looking at the view. His eyes were closed, his posture relaxed.
If she didn’t know he was badly injured, she wouldn’t have guessed. The only clue was the shadowed hollows under his eyes. While she’d been gone, Whisky had found Tate sitting on the veranda and was now watching him through half-closed eyes as he lay on his hammock bed.
‘Juice?’ She slid the glasses onto the table and poured.
‘Yes, please.’ Tate took the glass she offered and sipped. ‘This is what you miss out on being in the army. Fresh juice.’
Layla put her glass to her lips but she couldn’t drink. Tate wasn’t here to talk about Defence Force catering. She abandoned all pretence of drinking, putting her glass on the table and then dropping her hands to her lap. She didn’t have to wait long.
‘You didn’t email me back.’
‘I know.’ Layla couldn’t meet his eyes. She traced her finger around the rim of her glass. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You’re sorry?’
The pain in his voice was almost too much to bear. Layla bit her lip and studied the stitching on her cargos.
‘Layla, look at me.’
Her head inched up until her eyes met his. Tate’s brow was furrowed.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I don’t know.’ Layla swallowed against the thickening in her throat. ‘All I know is everything was good, then when I heard about the soldier dying I was so scared for you. When I didn’t hear from you, I thought you were dead.’ Her voice wavered. ‘I don’t want to ever think that again.’
Tate reached over and put his hand over hers. ‘I don’t want you to either.’
‘I don’t think I can do this.’
‘This what? Having juice on the veranda?’ She could hear the smile in his voice as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.
‘This.’ Tears burned her eyes. ‘Whatever this is.’
‘This is just us. We’re getting to know each other. You don’t have to be afraid.’
Layla swallowed down on a sob. ‘I’m not afraid.’
‘I think you are.’ His voice was gentle. ‘You’re running away.’
‘I’m not.’ She almost choked on her own words.
‘You are.’ His thumb stopped. ‘Family and friends are really important to you. Every day, I tell myself how lucky I am that you accepted me as one of yours. When you thought I was gone, you were scared. I understand that. You’ve already lost a brother that way.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I know how scared you were. We were pinned down out there for a long time. My mate Dougie, he’s like a brother to me. He was the first one shot and I thought he was going to die. I was so scared I couldn’t even think.’
Layla raised her eyes to his. ‘That’s horrible.’
Tate nodded. ‘Yeah, it was. But we pulled together and we both got through.’ Tate took her hand in his. ‘I don’t know what I can do to fix this, but that’s what I want us to do. To pull together and move past this.’
‘I don’t know. I’m so confused,’ Layla whispered.
‘Me too.’ Tate started as a horn sounded out on the road. ‘Damn. That’s for me. The RSL organised a volunteer to drive me out here, and he’s worried we’re going to get stuck in the peak and miss the flight.’
‘You’re going back?’
‘I have to. I’ll be on desk duties for a while, but they need me back in explosives. Every bomb we disarm is keeping those people and their families safe.’
‘I don’t want you to go back. They can’t send you yet. You’re still sore, right?’
‘I have to go back.’ Tate rubbed his thigh. ‘I’m recovered. More stiff than sore now. Can’t sit for long, can’t stand for long. It’s improving. A few more weeks and I’ll be right as rain.’
The horn blared again. She reached out for his arm. ‘Don’t go.’ Her voice was thick with tears.
Tate groaned. ‘I have to.’
‘Don’t go yet.’ A single tear snaked its way down her cheek and she dashed it away.
‘I shouldn’t have come.’ He pushed to his feet. ‘It’s upset you more.’
‘I don’t want you to get hurt again,’ she choked out. She couldn’t lose someone else. She just couldn’t.
The hum of the engine came closer and she heard the car door open. ‘Tate, we have to get going.’
Layla ran her hand through her hair and stood on shaky legs. ‘You’d better go.’
Tate stood and captured her hand. ‘I don’t want to go but I have to. I’m sorry. We’ll still stay in contact?’
Layla shook her head.
‘At least think about it.’ He leaned forward and brushed a kiss on her brow, the softest of touches whispering across her skin. ‘Please?’
Layla stared at him. She didn’t know what to say. From the driveway, the horn blared again. ‘He’s getting antsy. You’d better go.’
Tate jammed his sunnies on, but not before she caught the glimmer of tears in his eyes. ‘Goodbye, Layla.’
* * *
Days later, even though Layla still hadn’t read any of Tate’s emails, he was still sending them. She had however gone into town and bought another shovel, a gigantic box of gnomes and a litre of dark red paint. Her Halloween store on eBay now sported more blood-splattered zombie and regenerated gnomes than she would ever sell. She was busy photographing and wrapping them in bubble wrap when she heard a familiar voice.
‘Time for morning tea?’ Carise wandered in dangling a packet from the bakery, Toby gurgling from his harness strapped to her chest. ‘I’m famished. We walked over and I must say it’s a bloody long way.’
‘I’ll say. I’d better get the kettle on.’ Layla stood and went to take the bun from Carise.
‘What the heck? It’s a bloodbath in here.’ Carise’s mouth was wide open as she surveyed the workroom benches. ‘Anything you want to talk about?’
‘Not really.’ Layla ushered her cousin out and pulled the door closed behind her. ‘It’s just sometimes, you know, life’s not all sunshine and light.’
‘Definitely not in there.’
‘No.’ They walked across to the house in silence. Layla opened the screen door and ushered Carise into the kitchen. ‘I’m trying to figure something out.’
Carise unclipped Toby from his harness and sat him on the floor. She stared at Layla, tilting her head to one side. ‘It’s your soldier, isn’t it? He’s okay, isn’t he? Healing okay and everything?’
Layla filled the kettle and turned it on. ‘Yeah, it’s not his health. And I don’t know if I can call him my soldier.’
‘What happened?’
‘It’s not him, it’s me.’ Layla pulled the bun out of its packet and started savaging it with the bread knife. ‘Him getting injured. When I heard it was him, all I could see was Dad’s face as he took the call about Ben, and Mum’s face when she realised.’
Carise took the knife off her and pushed her into a chair. ‘That’s understandable. You lost your brother. Of course Tate getting injured is going to affect you. But he’s going to be okay.’
Layla swiped at her eyes. ‘My head knows that but my heart can’t see it.’
Carise abandoned the bun and pulled her chair closer to Layla’s. ‘Hon, this is normal. You’re in shock. I know how important keeping your family close and safe is to you. Sometimes bad things happen to good people. And that’s what happened to Tate. You know that. You can’t hide away in your workroom and never take a risk on getting to know someone on the off chance something bad will happen to them.’
Carise engulfed her in a big hug. ‘Of course you want to, we all want to sometimes. But you can’t.’
Layla let the tears flow. ‘He’s waiting for me to email him back.’
‘So, email him back.’ Carise pulled a tissue from her pocket and handed it over. ‘You know you want to.’
* * *
Long after Carise left for home, Layla finally powered up her laptop. She shuddered when she realised there were almost two hundred emails waiting to be read. A quick scan showed most of them were from Tate.
Her stomach churned and she stared at the ceiling.
If only she could go back, do things differently. He must have been worried when he didn’t hear from her. She’d probably delayed his healing, and given him more stress when he needed less. Why else would he have come here? She swallowed down on a groan.
What had she been thinking?
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Carise was right. She couldn’t spend her life alone, any more than she could wrap everyone she loved in bubble wrap and keep them safe from the horrible things the world threw at them. She blew out a shuddery breath and clicked into the most recent email, from yesterday.
Layla,
I miss you. Talk soon.
Tate.
She blinked and checked the screen again. No recriminations, no angry abusive rants or questioning of her decision. Just five simple words that told her exactly where Tate was at. Pain burned in her gut. How could she have been so stupid?
She’d nearly thrown away the best thing to happen to her in years.
Fingers shaking, she hit reply.
Tate,
I miss you too and I’m really sorry it took me so long to get back to you. You’re right, I was scared and I only acted that way because I don’t want to lose you. You’re important to me
I never said it when you were here, but I’m sorry about the loss of your mate Russell, and that you and your mate Dougie were injured. War is ugly. I hope they catch the men responsible.
Thanks for adding me onto your contact list. I didn’t sleep a wink until I knew it wasn’t you. When Ben died, I hated he was gone but I had to accept it because it was a tragic accident. Knowing you might be hurt because someone deliberately targeted you—it fried my brain. I think I’m still recovering.
If there’s anything you need, let me know.
Stay safe.
Layla.
* * *
Tate’s grin was a mile wide as he re-read Layla’s email.
‘Macca.’
He jumped. ‘What?’
‘CO wants you in his office.’
‘Why?’
‘He didn’t say.’
Tate ran his hand across the stubble on his head. What now? He was healed. He’d sat through multiple debriefs and the mandatory counselling. All he wanted was for everyone to stop treating him like he was a leper and get back on active duty. He donned his vest and helmet and headed out into the compound.
Before the attack, he would have crossed the open ground. Ever since he’d returned, he shadowed the walls. It was going to be a hard habit to break. He pushed the door and entered the office, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. ‘You wanted to see me?’
The CO looked up from his computer. ‘Sit down. I won’t be a minute.’
Tate eased down onto the edge of the chair.
‘Right.’ The CO pulled a file from the stack on his left. ‘A couple of things. I wanted to check how you think you’re placed for return to normal duties.’
‘I’m ready.’
‘I want you to think about that answer.’ The CO opened the folder. ‘Really think about it. What would happen if the team came under fire when you were out on patrol?’
Tate cleared his throat. ‘It would depend on the situation. I would secure my team, look to the team leader for direction and carry out their instructions.’
‘And if he wasn’t in a position to give instruction?’
Tate shifted on his seat. ‘I’d assess the team and look to the next person.’
‘And if that next person was you?’
‘Me?’ Tate took a second to regroup. ‘I’d get the team to safety, assess the casualties, do first aid, call for backup and if necessary, I’d engage the enemy.’
The CO slipped a form from the folder. ‘What else?’
Tate shook his head. ‘Those would be my immediate actions. I’d try and keep the team alive long enough for either another team to arrive, or for someone to give instructions.’
The CO nodded his agreement. ‘Spot on. So, why does this,’ he picked the file up and gave it a shake, ‘say you’re not ready.’
Tate’s shoulders stiffened. ‘I’m ready.’ He looked the CO in the eye. ‘The only difference is now I’ve felt the fear. I’ve seen how it affected me. That’s what I was worried about. Those guys keep trying to trick me with their questions. I knew I was getting it wrong.’
The CO tossed the file back onto the pile. He spread the form out and grabbed his pen. ‘What else?’
Tate bit the inside of his lip.
The pen was poised. ‘What else?’
‘This is going to sound stupid.’
The CO stifled a laugh. ‘McAuliffe, I’ve been in this army for twenty-seven years, and at this desk for the last ten. Believe me, between the political guff we have to put up with and the ten thousand recruits I’ve supervised, nothing you say is going to sound stupid.’
Tate looked at the ceiling then down at his lap. ‘It’s my fault Dougie was injured.’
The CO laid the pen down. ‘So, it wasn’t sniper fire?’
‘A sniper caused the injury. It was my fault. I was fixated on getting those sapphires.’ His breath hitched in his throat. ‘I met this girl, Layla, and I wanted a gift for her for Valentine’s Day, and if I hadn’t been busting my boiler to get them, Dougie would never have been shot.’
‘Bullshit. If it wasn’t Timms, it would have been someone else, because those bastards were lying in wait. I’m sorry no one realised it. The focus was on denying the traders access to the camp in case the vehicles were booby-trapped and that put all of our teams at risk.’
‘The jeweller. He knew what was happening long before we did.’
‘Maybe.’ The CO stroked his chin. ‘Or maybe he’s seen enough of his fellow countrymen’s underhanded tactics to be more suspicious than we were. He’s not one of the bad guys.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Remember I said there were a couple of things.’ He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a brown paper bag. ‘This belongs to you.’
Tate took the packet off his boss. ‘What is it?’
‘Open it.’
With an eerie sense of déjà vu, Tate took the bag from the CO. This time, though, he didn’t hesitate. He ripped out the staple holding it closed and emptied it onto the desk. ‘The sapphires.’
‘The jeweller came back to make sure you had them. You saved his donkey, which is a substantial asset. He was worried how this whole episode would affect his business. He needs to make sales to feed his family. I think he’s an honest man, trying to make the best of a bad situation. When I asked, he said you did a great job. He felt safe with you in charge. His words, not mine.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’ The CO leaned forward. ‘You ready?’
Tate didn’t hesitate. ‘I’m ready.’
‘Good. You’re back on active duty.’ The CO picked up the form and tore it in half.