Peters entered the ward some time later. Craig watched him go over to Susan and speak to her in a low voice. He saw Susan’s face go still, and his heart plummeted. Intuitively, Craig knew the exchange had to do with his men. He knotted the covers between his fists and waited.
Her mouth dry, Susan thanked Randy and forced herself to complete her final patient check before going to Craig. He was sitting up in bed, leaning against the pillow, every muscle in his body taut. Making herself meet his fiery gray gaze, which seemed to cut into her, Susan scrambled for the right words. But as she got closer to Craig’s bed, she realized he was holding himself rigid in preparation for the bad news.
Susan drew the green metal chair up to the side of Craig’s bed and sat, laying the clipboard across her thighs. “Craig—”
“Just give it to me, Susan,” he snapped. “Don’t try to be tactful, okay?”
Wincing at his angry attack, Susan nodded. “Hayes died just a little while ago,” she said softly. “They couldn’t stabilize him.” She saw Craig’s eyes go dark. Then tears rose in them. An answering lump formed in her throat. “Shelton’s in ICU, in critical and unstable condition.” With a shrug, she whispered, “I’ll call down there at the end of my watch and try to find out more.”
Craig remained silent, absorbing the loss of Hayes. “He was supposed to get married,” he rasped after a moment.
“What?”
“Andy Hayes, my radioman—he was engaged….” Craig shut his eyes and tipped his head back, a terrible, wrenching sigh ripping out of him. “It was his final mission before the wedding.”
Painful, too-fresh memories staggered Susan. Steve’s death had been such a long, awful slide downward for both of them. She’d tried to hold on to her love for him, but love had turned to suffering, then numbness. Still, Susan hurt for Hayes’s fianc;aaee—she and Hayes would never get to know married love at all. “I—I’m sorry,” she whispered, reaching out, but stopping herself before she touched Craig. How she longed simply to hold him. She felt Craig’s pain—and her own stored pain from this past terrible year. “I know how much you care for others,” she began, her voice quavering with feeling.
Susan’s soft, halting words washed over Craig, taking away some of his pain at the loss of Andy. He opened his eyes and looked at her deeply shadowed features. Stunned that she seemed no less affected by his loss than he was, he felt his defensive wall of anger slip. Savagely, he reminded himself that Susan was married. She belonged to another man. Or did she? Where was her wedding ring? But maybe she didn’t wear it when she was on duty, his quick mind countered. With monumental effort, he whispered, “Thanks,” in a steely tone.
Susan slowly stood and returned the chair to its original corner. There was nothing more to say. Craig made it obvious that he didn’t want her around. And she didn’t want to be his whipping post, either. She’d managed to survive a year of that with Steve, and it was time to draw the line. Turning, Susan walked away, leaving the ward—and leaving Craig to deal with the loss of his friend.
Out in the office, she logged the time of her ward round. Peters came through the door.
“Thanks for finding out that information for me,” she told him.
“Bad news for the captain.” Randy shook his head. He sat down on the chair in front of the desk. “You hate to see a man cry.”
Susan’s head snapped up. “Cry?”
Randy gestured toward the ward. “Yeah, he’s in there crying.”
* * *
“Karen, you have to do me a favor,” Susan begged the next morning as she got off duty.
Karen yawned. “What?”
They walked out of the hospital area and headed to the parking lot. The surrounding brown hills glowed in the morning sunlight. The vast light blue sky stretched overhead, the darker blue Pacific Ocean to the west. Gulls wheeled and called nearby, looking for handouts.
“We’ve got ward duty again tonight,” Susan began. “Can you make a call to the San Diego Hospital and check on a man for me?”
Karen rubbed her face tiredly. “Now, you know that’s against regs.”
She smiled. “Yes, I know that.”
“Who’s this for? Taggart?”
“Your mama didn’t raise you to be dumb, did she?” Susan countered with a laugh.
Grinning in response, Karen said, “My mama was a sharp Ohio woman who could see straight through even the tiniest white lie.”
“So will you do it?” Susan persisted. “His name is Sergeant Larry Shelton. He was stabilized and flown down to San Diego for extended treatment for his burns. He was on Craig’s recon team.”
Grimacing, Karen muttered, “I’ll see what I can do, but no promises.” Then she brightened. “How are you two getting along?”
“Like cats and dogs,” Susan said unhappily.
“Why?”
Susan shrugged. “He’s angry with me, and I don’t know why.”
“Does he know you’re single again? A widow?”
“No…”
They reached the edge of the parking lot. Heat was already building on the black asphalt. “Why not?” Karen asked.
“Why should he?” Susan demanded. “For all I know, he’s engaged or married himself.”
“Is he wearing a ring?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean anything. Randy, one of the corpsmen I work with, said the men don’t wear any kind of jewelry because a glint could get them discovered during the war games.”
“Good point,” Karen said thoughtfully. Then she brightened and clapped Susan on the shoulder. “Well, don’t look so glum. With time, Craig will thaw. This is just temporary, I’m sure.”
Susan wasn’t so sure. “With Steve dying and all,” she admitted, “I was in bad-enough shape, Karen. Now, with Craig here, it’s like I don’t know which end is up. I can’t protect myself from his anger. Each of his glares cuts a little more deeply into my heart.”
“My mama always said time was a healer,” Karen said gently. “Just ride this through, Susan. No sense in striking back at Craig.”
“I’d never do that.”
“I know. You’re such a softy.” Karen frowned. “That’s part of your problem, you know.”
They halted at their cars, parked next to each other. Susan opened the door to her blue compact. “What problem?”
“Yours,” Karen said, unlocking the door of her sporty red Mazda. “Sometimes I wish you would fight back and get angry.”
Susan managed a slight smile. “Be more like you? The doc that flies off the handle at a moment’s notice?”
Grinning, Karen said, “I express my anger in a positive fashion.”
“Oh, sure,” Susan hooted, some of her depression lifting under Karen’s good-natured needling. “You just use that sweet voice of yours to call some poor guy a bastard, and he doesn’t even know what hit him. Diplomacy is really a code, and you forget—I know the code.”
With a giggle, Karen said, “As long as those men don’t realize my sweetness and smile are thinly veiled cuss words, I’ll be okay.” She wagged her finger at Susan. “You just be sure to get some sleep. You look awful.”
Wasn’t that the truth? Susan thought as she waved goodbye to her friend. The apartment she’d rented was in Oceanside, just outside the base’s main gates. She longed to shower off the smell of the ward and simply sleep, but she knew herself