“Because I love you.”
Claire yanked her hand away. She pushed him back andtried to shut the door on him. He wouldn’t let her.
“I’m not doing that again,” she declared. “I’m not going through it. I’m not putting you through it….”
She was fighting him. He managed to grab hold of herand yank her right out of the car.
“Leave me alone!”
“Why?”
The tears came faster, hotter. The pain welled up like aterrible wound. “Because it hurts,” she sobbed, folding. “Ithurts too much, and I’m tired.”
He caught her against him, pulled her tight, with his armsaround her and his head close over hers.
“Oh, Claire, I know. I know.”
“No,” she insisted. “You don’t. You don’t know anything.”
“I know some things,” he murmured, and she hated herself for listening to him. “I’ve been talking to other nurses.I’ve talked to Peggy Williams. She called Chu Lai a hellhole. Said you pulled her through it.”
“I didn’t do anything,” she said. “Not anything. Gohome, Tony. Please. Just leave me alone.”
Peggy. God, Peggy. Bright-eyed blond Peggy who playedthe guitar and collected the worst music ever heard in ahospital and lost her fiancé in an copter crash.
Peggy.
Claire had forgotten.
“Leave me alone,” she begged, wondering how she couldhave more tears.
“I can’t, honey. Not anymore. I started this, and I’m going to have to see it through.”
She pulled away now. Faced him with all the anger shecould muster. Stared hard at those eyes she’d come to loveso dearly, that comfortable, well-used face that had survived so much with its whimsy intact. There was no whimsynow. He faced her out on that poor excuse for a sandbox asif he were fighting bare-handed for her soul.
For the first time, Claire realized where she was. Sheheard the ships out in the bay and the birds overhead and theinsects that chorused from the trees. She didn’t remembergetting here. She didn’t remember driving or looking or stopping. She just remembered that she had to get away,because Jimmy was chasing her. Jimmy and every otherghost she hadn’t laid to rest, and she didn’t have time forthat. She didn’t have the energy. She had to get her childrentaken care of.
If they were all right...
“Oh, God,” she moaned, trying to turn for her car.“Johnny. Jess. I have to...”
Tony caught hold of her. “They’re fine. You’re not going home like this, Claire. Not till we talk.”
“About what?” she demanded, spinning on him. “Thegood old days? Well, I can’t remember one good old damnday, Tony. Not one. What do we talk about now?”
“Peggy said that you were always hitting patients,” hesaid quietly.
She struggled to breathe, though it wasn’t hot out. Itwasn’t dark or noisy or fearsome. “I already told you that.”
He didn’t smile. He didn’t back away. “She said youwould adopt one guy from each batch of wounded and harass him until he got better. That you were one hell of anurse.”
Claire fought to keep from sobbing. “Peggy’s memoryisn’t any better than mine.”
“You don’t remember doing that?”
“What does it matter? Do you want me to say I remember you? All right, yes! I remember you. I remember Smittyand having to lie to you when he was dying. I didn’t remember your name. I don’t remember any of their names. I remember your injuries, though. I remember everybodytelling me that you’d die anyway, why was I bothering. ButI wouldn’t stop. I knew better. It didn’t make any difference, though. You all just left, and I never knew what happened to you. To any of you.”
She got away from him this time. Fled as far as the water, until she could see it lapping right at the toes of her whiteshoes. The tide was slipping away. Somehow that made hereven more sad. More anxious. More angry.
