Chapter Four

      Craig sat tensely, his hands knotted in his lap, trying to assimilate his shock over Steve’s death. The horrified look on Susan’s face struck savagely at him, making him feel small and guilty as never before. Steve had been his best friend for three years, even after they’d met Susan—up until that fateful day when Susan had tearfully told Craig she’d decided to break up with Steve.

      Burying his face in his hands, Craig couldn’t seem to think clearly. He could only feel the raging emotions battering him, tearing away at his anger toward Susan and leaving a surge of guilt and grief in its wake. Even though Steve had allowed their friendship to lapse as Susan became an integral part of his life, Craig had never hated his old friend. No, never. But he was dead. What had happened?

      Bitterly, he raised his face and allowed his hands to fall back into his lap. From the moment Susan had stood him up at the restaurant, his life had taken a powerful turn away from his past, which had included Steve and Susan. He’d left abruptly, hurt and angry at Susan’s treatment of him. Every day after that had been a reminder that he hadn’t been aggressive enough in going after Susan—that he’d believed in some romantic notion about friendship and trust winning out in the end. Well, he’d ended up with nothing but a broken heart to show for it.

      And each day since, Craig had hardened his heart, thrown himself into recon training and buried the past, buried the terrible pain of losing Susan—a pain she knew nothing about. She’d seen him as a friend, plain and simple. Pressing his lips into a thin line to stop from crying out, Craig knew his heartless aggression over the years since then had done nothing but take him from one unfulfilling relationship to another. Every woman he met he compared to Susan, whether he wanted to or not. And none of them stacked up. None of them could begin to compare. The intimacy that had naturally sprung between him and Susan in those long-ago, innocent days was something he’d searched for but never found with another woman.

      So much had happened in those four long, tortured years. Since he’d walked away from Susan and Steve. But what had happened to Steve? After Craig had left Annapolis, he’d never heard anything more about his best friend beyond the fact that he’d married Susan. Ordinarily, “ring knockers” stayed in touch—or at least word about them got around. The “brotherhood”—graduates of Annapolis—were a small, tight group, and they followed one another’s movements on the chess board of military life. He realized now that it was odd he hadn’t heard more, but he’d been so filled with loss that for a time, much of the military world had floated by unnoticed.

      Steve had been at the top of his class, destined for the greatness he’d always wanted. So why had he dropped out of sight? Scowling, Craig traced patterns on the bedspread with his finger. Suddenly, he thought again of the incalculable damage he had just done to Susan by behaving the way he did. He’d seen her anguish, so deep and telling that it made him feel worse than any other point in his life. But at the same time, he felt a tiny, rebellious thread of hope spring to life.

      Guiltily, Craig tried to push the hope away. Steve was dead. It was wrong to feel this way. Anyway, he’d had great hope before, when Susan had been on the verge of breaking up with Steve, and where had that gotten him? He’d had great plans to court her himself—that’s why he’d waited so long at the restaurant that night. But something had gone wrong. Evidently, Steve and Susan had made up. Still, that didn’t give Susan the right to stand him up without any explanation—without any word at all. Why did life have to be so damned complicated?

      If only he could get out of bed and follow Susan. But Craig knew the idea was folly, because he’d tear the wound open again and be laid up twice as long. He looked around and saw Peters, one of the navy corpsmen, approaching. Agitated, Craig waved him over.

      “Yes, sir?” Peters asked, coming to his bed.

      “Lieutenant Evans,” Craig said irritably. “Where did she go? I’ve got to talk to her.”

      Uncomfortably, Peters looked toward the swinging doors at the end of the ward. “She was awful upset, sir.”

      Craig avoided the corpsman’s gaze. “I know!” He gripped the covers in his fists. “I’ve got to see her. Call her back in. I must talk to her.”

      “Yes, sir. But first, I gotta make the rounds. There’s IVs that need changing and—”

      * * *

      “Do it,” Craig muttered, understanding. He wouldn’t deny the men in the ward medical help just because he’d screwed things up with Susan. He lay back, breathing hard, the pain in his chest growing with every breath he took. Steve was dead. Susan was a widow. Oh, God, he’d just torn her apart with his own, selfish anger. Craig squeezed his eyes shut. He’d seen the hurt, the agony in her eyes and face when he’d accused her. What was wrong with him?

      For the next hour, he watched the corpsman complete the ward rounds. It was nearly 0100, but he was anything but sleepy. Wasn’t Susan right? Hadn’t he attacked her partly because of his grief over losing Hayes? And was part of it to stop his hardened heart from feeling again? Craig’s mouth worked into a grim line. He’d made such an ass of himself. He cared for Susan regardless of how she’d treated him in the past. And she was no longer married, which gave him a second chance. Or did it? The way he’d treated her since meeting her at Reed no doubt had burned every possible bridge. He couldn’t blame Susan if she’d never have anything to do with him again. As he lay, drenched in his own sweat and pain, Craig stared up at the darkened ceiling of the ward.

      The minutes kept dragging by, and he couldn’t remain still. He had to talk to Susan! To his relief, he saw Peters finish his round