“Three years ago,” she whispered. “He was on a school trip to see the Philadelphia Orchestra perform. He and a female classmate went missing, and the police…” Dana dashed a tear from her eye and sniffled. “They claimed the kids ran away. That they were dating. But Micah would never have left his mother. He’d called her right after the performance to tell her how great it was.”
He returned the stack of photos, and Dana tucked them back into her bag. “Did the police give a reason for shovin’ the investigation under the rug? Besides that flimsy-ass excuse about young love?”
Dana shook her head. “My sister worked two jobs and was barely getting by. I sent her money every month. The girl? Micah’s friend, Roni? She was in foster care.” Staring down at the floor, Dana flicked the catch on her purse open and closed, open and closed, open and closed, until Terry took a step closer and nudged her chin up so she’d meet his gaze.
“Is that why you left Bagram?” This wasn’t the time. Hell, this had to be the most inappropriate conversation ever, but he had to know. He’d felt something for the kind, beautiful nurse back then, and his emotions hadn’t dimmed in the slightest, even three years later.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Micah went missing the day of your surgery. I…I wanted to tell you. I’ve never abandoned a patient before.”
The word patient stung, and he kicked himself for thinking he was anything other than a job for her. “I managed,” he said sharply. “Still have your iPod, too.”
Her smile, though weak, sent a thrill through his entire body, and her laugh—God. He wanted to hear it every day. He’d dreamed of it. Of her. More times than was probably healthy to admit.
“I’m surprised it still works.”
“I play one of those books every couple of days.”
Her brown eyes widened, her mouth forming an adorable little o. “They weren’t that good, were they?”
With a shrug, he ran a hand through his hair. “They remind me of you.”
A deep flush crept up her cheeks. Shit. Now he’d done it. Said something he shouldn’t have because he was thinking with his dick and not his head. Only the roar of more applause saved him from burying his foot any deeper in his mouth. Jim was done with his speech.
Rather than continue to entertain the possibility that Dana had ever wanted him—or thought of him as anything other than one of her patients, he offered her his elbow. “Jim will be off stage in a couple of minutes. I’ll introduce you.”
“Really?” Her small hand curled around his elbow, and having her close enough he could lean down and kiss her? It threatened to be the death of him. Or at least his dignity. Begging her to let him take her out on a proper date when she’d just told him about losing her nephew? That would get him a swift kick in the nuts.
“Really. And if he won’t help…I have a guy I can call.”
“No one’s ever believed me. Outside of the private investigators I paid way too much for way too little.”
Terry was already a goner. “I believe you. Even if Micah did run away—which is about as likely as me becoming a foot model—he’s in trouble now. He needs help and he’s goin’ to get it. I promise.”
4
Dana
Terry Owens. The man she’d left at Bagram. The man she’d spent one long, perfect night with watching the stars and healing her battered soul. He’d come to her rescue.
His gait was only a little uneven, so he’d obviously managed quite well with his prosthetic. She’d seen numerous amputations in her years of service, and some of the vets never got over the loss of a limb. But Terry…he was every bit as strong and confident as he’d been that first night.
For a few seconds, he’d stared at her like he’d wanted her. Lord knew she wanted him. They’d been apart less than a day before he’d been injured, and Dana had regretted not asking him for more every one of those seconds. Then to see him on a ventilator—struggling not to give in to the life-threatening injuries—she’d known. This man was hers.
And she’d left him without a word.
Micah’s missing.
That single text from her sister had turned her world upside down. She’d gone straight to her CO, begged for family leave, and flown home with only a five-minute stop at the hospital to see Terry’s face one last time.
Shit. Why hadn’t she looked for him once things had settled down a little? Sure, Micah—and Laura—had been her focus. Rightly so. But tracking down leads on her nephew involved a lot of waiting. Dana was allowed a life too. Wasn’t she?
Peering up at Terry as he led her to the side of the stage, she wondered how she could ever have walked away from him. “Do you live in D.C.?”
“New Bedford. Massachusetts,” he said. “I’m only here for the weekend.” His entire demeanor had changed in the past few minutes, his answers brusque, his tone hard and unfeeling, and Dana had no idea why.
Because you deserted him.
Jim Stafford bounded down the stairs to raucous applause, and Terry waved him over.
