Matt's Family. Lynnette Kent
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accounts and insurance premiums. All the plain “stuff” that made up normal life.
But take those things away, and what was there to say?
Judging by the last sixty minutes of driving…Nothing.
Matt glanced across the car. She seemed calm enough, her excellent legs easily crossed, her shoulders relaxed, face turned to catch the scenery speeding by the side window. A movement in her lap caught his eye. Her hands were clasped loosely. But one thumb tapped an anxious tattoo on the other.
Okay. Kris was nervous about this, too. What could they talk about?
He said the first thing that came to his head. “I got a surprise phone call the other day.”
“Who was it?” Obviously willing to break the silence, she shifted in the seat to face him, curling her legs up underneath her.
“Lee Holt—he was stationed with me up at Fort Bragg.”
“Where is he stationed now?”
Matt suddenly had second thoughts about where this conversation would lead. “Uh…he’s been out of the Army for about three years.”
“Oh, really? Did he stay the full twenty before retirement?”
Matt cursed his own stupidity in ever bringing up the subject. “No, as a matter of fact. He was a couple of years behind me.” The next question was predictable and unavoidable.
“Why did he get out so early?”
“After…Africa…he didn’t have the heart, he said, to stay in.”
“He was in Africa with you?” The sudden chill in the air had nothing to do with the air conditioner.
“Yeah.”
“For all five years?”
“Uh…no. He was there for about two and a half years, I think.”
“He came home before you did?” Kristin dragged in a painful breath. “And he didn’t tell us you were alive?”
“He couldn’t do that, Kris. Our mission was classified.”
Kristin stared at her husband. Oh, God. She and Luke had still been sleeping apart at that point. If she’d thought for one moment that Matt would come home…
Jenny would never have been born.
She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t believe anyone could have been so heartless.”
“He had a responsibility to the Army. And he was under strict orders to keep quiet.”
She dropped her hands and looked over at Matt’s grim profile. “Could you do that? Would you have done that to some other wife?”
His knuckles whitened as he gripped the wheel. “Kris, I can’t—”
“Are you doing it…right now? Is there someone still left over there, someone whose parents or wife or children believe he’s dead?”
Matt didn’t answer. Kristin turned to stare out the side window again. There was some logic here, she supposed, from a military point of view. Too bad the military had long since stopped being human.
Perhaps her husband had, as well. “You’ve never said very much about what happened to you over there.”
She turned her head to watch him. For a minute, she didn’t think he would reply. Then he cleared his throat. “There’s not much to say.”
“Or not much you can say?”
“That’s part of it. But outside of what’s classified, there’s not much to tell. Each day was about the same as all the others.” His resistance vibrated like an electric field between them.
“Did you have books?”
“No.”
“TV?”
“No.”
“What did you eat?”
Matt slapped the steering wheel with the heel of his hand and muttered an ugly word. “Look…I’ve worked hard every damn day of the last four years forgetting the details you’re asking for. Remembering takes me back. I don’t want to go there again. Can we just drop it, please?”
He could have hit her, and she would have felt better. Her grievance quickly became guilt. “I’m sorry,” Kristin whispered. “So sorry.” She covered her eyes with her hand to hide the tears.
“Aw, Kris…” They rode in silence for a long time, until at last Matt cleared his throat. “What do you feel like having for lunch? Where’s a good place to eat in Wilmington?”
Kristin sat up straight. If he made an effort, so would she. “I don’t know. Let’s see what we find when we get there.”
Their mood gradually eased as they ate fresh shrimp and coleslaw and hush puppies at a table overlooking the Cape Fear River. Then Matt talked Kristin into dessert. “At least split a piece with me. Would that be so bad?” He knew her weakness against the temptation of chocolate.
Kristin sighed. “Yes, it would. But I can’t resist.” She raised her head and looked at him across the table. “You fiend, you.”
But her brown eyes laughed at him. Matt felt a weight lift from his shoulders, just knowing he’d made her laugh. Especially after the way he’d blown it this morning in the car.
He’d just have to work harder in the future to keep the conversation away from minefields like Africa…Luke…Erin…Too bad the inn in Fredericksburg where they were going to stay the night was still seven hours away.
A mere seven hours of intimate, meaningful discussion but no controversy?
Mission Impossible. Matt pulled in a deep, doubtful breath and concentrated on his share of dessert.
FREDERICKSBURG TURNED OUT to be even farther than seven hours—a bridge on the main road had been washed out by flooding. The detour markers led straight into the dark Virginia wilderness and then vanished, without showing the way out again.
“We must have missed another sign,” Matt muttered at about 10:00 p.m. as they sat parked at a roadside picnic area in the middle of nowhere. He studied the map. “I don’t see state road 3407 anywhere on here.”
Kristin rubbed her eyes with her fingers. She’d been driving for the last three hours while Matt navigated.
“Let’s call the B&B,” she said. “Maybe they can help.”
But the owners of the inn confessed to being transplanted Yankees, still learning the country themselves. They promised a bed would be ready whatever time the Brennans showed up.
He clicked off the cellular phone, dropped his head back and yawned. “Man, I’m tired.”
“Me, too.” Kristin leaned her temple against the window. “We can rest for a little while, can’t we?”
Matt stared at her awkward position for a few seconds. Then he climbed out of the van and in again—onto the back seat. “Sounds great to me. Turn off the light and come here. We can stretch out and be warm.” He grinned and held out his arms.
Kristin’s smile was all the answer he needed. By the time she crawled into the back, he had stretched out on his side, his head pillowed on the armrest. With a sigh, she lay down in his arms, resting her cheek on his shoulder. He let his other arm curve across the dip in her waist just made for that purpose. “Better?”
“Mmm.” She wiggled a bit, slipped her knee between his and, finally, relaxed. “Wonderful.”
He pressed a kiss on the top of her head, catching the sweet berry scent of her shampoo. “Me, too.”
But minutes passed, and sleep didn’t come. Somewhere in the woods a whippoorwill called. An owl hooted,