Authors: Lindsay McKenna
“Travis.” Rachel managed a small smile. “At least we can see each other when I get home.”
“And you’ll take leave?”
Nodding, she said, “All I can get. I want to be with you.”
“What about your folks? Aren’t they expecting to see you?”
She ran her fingers lightly across his hand. “I’ve been writing to them about you. I don’t think they’ll be too surprised if I take my leave in San Francisco in order to be with you.”
“If we get married right away, the army has to discharge you,” Chase said.
Rachel nodded. “That’s right.”
Chase lifted her hand, pressing a small kiss to it. As badly as he wanted to give her a sales pitch to marry him immediately after coming stateside and end her military career, he didn’t. He’d learned the hard way that Rachel had a mind of her own, and Chase respected her for it.
“What do you want more than anything in this world, angel?”
Rachel closed her eyes. “To marry you.”
His voice cracked. “What’s the second most important thing to you?”
“To have your children.” Rachel managed a shy smile. “You don’t know how many times in the last few days I’ve lain awake thinking about us being a family.”
“When you come stateside, we’ll get married. It will end your military career, but you could be a civilian nurse if you wanted.”
Rachel nodded. “I’d like that.” She loved her career. Rachel was grateful Chase understood her needs. When the children came along, she would make a full-time career of motherhood, using her nursing knowledge and compassion for them.
Reaching up, Chase caressed her cheek. “Share your dreams with me,” he whispered thickly. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Rachel began, her voice unsteady. “I’d like to have two boys and a girl. If the boys wanted to go into the military, I wouldn’t mind. I see them being sensitive, like myself, and yet having your confidence and belief that they can do whatever they want.”
“And our daughter? How do you see her?”
Rachel held his gaze, realizing there were tears in Chase’s eyes. She pressed his hand against her cheek. “Exactly like me: headstrong, independent and capable. I never told you this, but my mother has red hair, even though I got black. I hope our daughter has her red hair, a banner to the world about what lies in her heart, her soul.”
A warm feeling suffused Chase as he envisioned a red-haired daughter as feisty and spirited as Rachel. “What if she wanted to go into the military?”
“I wouldn’t object. But I hope you’d allow our children to make up their own minds about carrying on the Trayhern tradition. I don’t believe in browbeating a child into following in his father’s footsteps.”
Satisfaction sang through Chase. Rachel’s cheek was warm and soft against the back of his hand. He ached to make slow, beautiful love to her. “I promise you, I won’t push any of our kids into the service. They have to want it on their own.” Then Chase whispered hoarsely, “You’ll be a wonderful mother.”
“I want to be a wonderful wife, too.” Rachel closed her eyes, nuzzling into his large hand.
“You will be,” he said, choking back the tears. “We’ve come this far together, Rachel. We’ll go the rest of the way—together.”
A ragged whisper of pain escaped Rachel. Turning her head, she pressed a small kiss into Chase’s palm. “As much as I want to stay here and talk about our future, I’ve got to complete my rounds.” She rose, sliding her hand to his shoulder. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
The light and dark lovingly embraced Rachel. Chase murmured her name, pulling her down so that he could kiss her just one more time. She came without hesitation, her lips meeting, melting against him. There was such softness and sweetness in Rachel as Chase molded his mouth to hers. It would only be a matter of days, perhaps a week, and he’d be transferred. As Chase reluctantly broke their kiss, he looked up into eyes that were lustrous with invitation. One that he wanted a lifetime to pursue.
“Rachel?” Doug Thornton knocked on the door to her tent.
“Come in, Doug.” She had just come off duty and had removed her boots to give her tired, aching feet a well-deserved rest.
Doug shut the door, pushing back the parka hood. Outside, it was snowing again. “I know you want to catch some sleep, but I was over at Colonel Rhodes’s office and heard that Chase will be transferred out of here tomorrow morning.”
Her eyes widening, Rachel felt as if someone had hit her in the chest with a fist. “So soon?” It was more of a cry than a statement.
With a grimace, Doug nodded. “He’s been here a week, Rachel. And his leg has stabilized to the point where he won’t lose it.” He added with a shake of his head, “I don’t know how, but it has.”
Chase was going to be torn away from her. Rachel sat on her cot, her hands in her lap. Each day, she had stolen precious moments away from surgery to visit him. They couldn’t kiss or show how they felt toward each other during the day, but that didn’t matter. They were getting the time to talk, explore and find out even more about one another. She had volunteered for night duty in order to be with Chase. In the hours of darkness, he had taught her the meaning of love through the simple act of kissing. Now she wanted more. So much more.
“Rachel?” Doug tipped his head to the side, grinning. “Where’d you go?”
“Sorry,” she muttered. “Does Chase know yet?”
“No. I happened to be in the radio room when the orders came through for him. He’s going by chopper to Taegu, and a transport will fly him to Japan. From there, he’ll eventually get to San Francisco. In another month, he’ll be ready to start therapy on that leg.”
Incredible agony filled Rachel’s heart. The feelings were so overwhelming, it was hard to think. This past week had been wonderful, a promise of things to come. “Thanks,” she said, shaken, “for telling me, Doug.”
“Got the duty tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Give that guy a proper goodbye.” Doug pulled the hood back over his head and opened the door, leaving.
Rachel sat there a long time. She had four months without Chase stretching ahead of her. Tears welled up in her eyes and fell down her cheeks. Rachel would cry now, not later. She didn’t want Chase to see her sad. She would try and make the parting as painless as possible for him.
Chase waited impatiently. The watch on his wrist read 12:10 a.m. Where was Rachel? Usually she appeared promptly at midnight. He sat propped up in the bed, his injured leg throbbing.
The doors at the end of recovery swung open. Rachel appeared in her olive fatigues, a stethoscope around her neck, clipboard in hand. Chase absorbed her shadowy features as she quietly moved from bed to bed, checking on each patient. Her black hair gleamed in the dull light, emphasizing her paleness. As she drew closer, Chase saw no life in her eyes and sensed something was wrong. Normally Rachel’s eyes shone with welcome and happiness, which never ceased to lift his glum spirits. Being forced to stay in bed twenty-four hours a day was boring as hell.
Rachel forced a smile as she approached Chase’s cot. “You’re looking chipper tonight,” she said in greeting. Taking the board from the end of his bed, she came over and popped the thermometer into his mouth before he could say anything. His eyes spoke for him, and Rachel trembled inwardly. The need to fulfill herself as a woman in his arms was almost tangible, a driving force so powerful that it left Rachel feeling weak in its path.
Chase watched as she expertly fitted the cuff around his left arm to take his blood pressure. “Why are you so pale?”
She slanted him a warning glance. “Chase, don’t talk with the thermometer in your mouth. You know when you do, it just has to stay in there that much longer for an accurate reading.”
His nostrils flared, and he watched her. Rachel was smiling, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Each time her fingers touched his arm, they sent a wave of desire through Chase.
“I’m okay,” she told him in a low voice that only he could hear. At this time of night, the other men were sleeping. Taking off the cuff and jotting down the findings, Rachel pulled the thermometer out of his mouth, reading it.
“Normal.”
“Red-blooded American male, too.”
She grinned and put the thermometer into a glass filled with alcohol. Sitting down, Rachel rested the clipboard on her lap. “No one knows that better than me.”
“You’re not well. What’s going on?”
Rachel felt sadness overwhelm her. She tried to keep up her buoyant facade, but it wasn’t working. “Have they told you yet?”
Chase picked up her hand, holding it gently. “What?”
Taking a deep breath, Rachel informed him about the transfer orders. Automatically Chase’s hand tightened around hers. “I didn’t want them hauling you out of here tomorrow morning before I could say goodbye.”
Chase raised her hand, kissing each of her fingers. Her eyes grew languid as he turned it over, running his tongue across her palm, biting the soft pad gently and then smoothing it with a stroke of his tongue. Rachel’s lips parted, her lashes lowering in reaction.
“I want to love you so damn badly,” Chase said in a roughened tone.
“I know…” Rachel pulled her hand from his, her palm tingling wildly, heat pooling and collecting between her thighs as it always did when Chase touched her.
“Tomorrow morning?” He frowned and reached under his pillow.
“Yes, at 0800.” Rachel tilted her head, watching him dig beneath the four pillows. “What are you looking for?”
“Nothing. Close your eyes, Miss McKenzie. I was planning on giving this to you next week, but the army, in all its lousy timing, has decided to kick me out of here sooner than I’d anticipated.”
She obediently closed her eyes. “Chase, what are you up to? Two days ago, Chuck Dancey slipped you a bottle of whiskey and by the end of the day, half the guys in here were drunker than skunks. What did he do? Slip you another bottle?”
Grinning, Chase finally located a box, dragging it out of its hiding place. “No, Miss McKenzie. Your starched-and-laced Maine background is showing again. So what if I passed the bottle around so each guy could have a swig or two? It sure as hell kills that antiseptic smell we have to lie in twenty-four hours a day.”
A laugh bubbled up in Rachel, chasing her sadness away for just a moment. “You’re incorrigible, Chase. I’ve said it before.”
“Okay, Angel Eyes, give me your hands.”
Rachel held out her hands. She felt Chase place something in them. “Now open your eyes,” he commanded. Rachel eyed the box. Frowning, she looked over at him. Chase was expectant, barely able to swallow the now-familiar catlike smile that lurked at the corners of his mouth whenever he was up to something.
“What is this?” she demanded, examining the box closely.
“Open it and find out.”
Rachel gave him a dirty look. “Annie said you gave one of our nurses a box like this the other day and it had a huge black rubber spider in it.”
Chuckling, Chase said, “Well…the boys needed a little laugh, Rachel. The nurse that opened it screamed and threw the box sky-high. It hit the ceiling of the tent.” He lifted his eyes upward, impressed. “That’s a long way.”
“Yes, and Susan hasn’t been the same since. She hates spiders, Chase. That was a rotten trick to pull on her.”
“Ah, she’s always such a sourpuss, honey. We just wanted to see if she had any emotion besides her standard all-business frown.” Chase chuckled with satisfaction. “She does.”
Rachel held his smiling eyes. “Chase Trayhern, I feel sorry for the nurses and doctors who are going to take care of you in San Francisco. You’ll drive them crazy.”
He agreed, motioning to the box she held. “Go on, open it. There’s something in there to remind you of me.”
“Sure. It’s probably that rubber spider.”
His eyes rounded. “Now, would I do that to you?”
Rachel wanted to reach out and embrace Chase. He looked like a precocious little boy, and she wanted to ruffle his hair with her fingers. “None of the nurses know what you’ve plotted or planned for them, Captain.” She studied the cardboard box. “Give me one good reason why I should trust you enough to open this and probably get the wits scared out of me.”
Chase sobered. “Because you love me.”
A shiver of need coursed through Rachel. “Okay,” she whispered, “I’ll open it because I do love you.” Cautiously she lifted the lid. Inside, surrounded by white tissue paper, was a smaller box. Taking it out, Rachel sprang the tiny gold latch and opened it. Although it was shadowy in the ward, Rachel saw the weak light strike a diamond ring set in gold. She gasped.
Chase watched her expression go from wariness to utter shock and then tenderness. “It’s an engagement ring. Bob Shore, one of my squad mates, was going to Japan on leave, so I gave him the money and told him to find the most beautiful ring he could.” Anxiously Chase watched as she lightly touched the half-karat diamond. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it myself, but it’s the thought that counts, honey.”
Rachel had promised herself not to cry, but tears welled up in her eyes as she reverently held the box containing the ring. “It’s so beautiful,” she quavered.
Reaching over, Chase took the box, prying the ring from its pad. “You’re beautiful. Give me your left hand, Angel Eyes. Come on….”
Sniffing, Rachel held out her left hand. Chase slipped the ring onto her finger. “There,” he said with a growl of satisfaction, “this makes it legal.” And then he smiled up at her tear-stained face. “See? I was serious about us getting married.”
Rachel’s heart broke as she drowned in Chase’s solemn blue eyes. She had planned to be upbeat and positive over their separation and was failing miserably. Instead, it was Chase who was stronger and keeping their parting joyful. With a trembling hand, Rachel wiped away the tears.
“It’s lovely, Chase.” She watched the light ignite fire through the diamond.
“And you thought it was a rubber spider.” Chase grinned.
Managing a choked laugh, Rachel continued to stare in shock at the ring on her finger. “No, it wasn’t a spider.”
“Now you can write your folks and tell them you’re ‘legally’ engaged.”
She leaned forward, framing Chase’s face between her hands. “I love you,” she whispered.