Battlefield of the Heart (15 page)

Could it be he was finally ready to open up to her at least a little? “Hard because it's difficult to think about, or hard because you're afraid of my reaction?”

“A little of both.” He drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. “My time in the army—”

The quiet thump of an approaching helicopter filled the air, presumably on its way to the small airport that backed up to the far end of the park. The change in Danny was alarming. He paled and started to shake, then he grabbed Cindy's hand and pulled her into the shallow ditch between the center platform of the mound and the outer wall. He flattened himself against the ground, tugging her down beside him as the sound of the helicopter grew louder. “Stay down!”

Cindy's heart raced as she lay in the grass beside Danny's trembling form. He peered over the outer wall of the mound like he expected to see the enemy approaching. Suddenly he flinched and ducked, moving with surprising speed. Was he seeing someone shooting at him? She laid her arm across his shoulders and spoke into his ear, praying it would be enough to ease his fear. “Danny, it's okay. That helicopter is probably just headed for the airport.”

He closed his eyes and buried his face in his arm, his breathing ragged as the helicopter passed overhead. She continued to try to reassure him, uncertain if it would help, but it was the only thing she could think to do. What had caused such a violent reaction to a helicopter?

The thump of the rotor blades grew quieter then disappeared altogether. Danny still lay facedown, unmoving, but his breathing gradually evened out. Cindy sat up when he shifted beneath her arm, and she prayed he'd sit up and talk to her. He didn't move at first and her hope waned, but then he finally rolled onto his back, his head beside her knee.

“I feel like an idiot,” he muttered, casting a quick glance at her before looking up at the trees above them.

Her heart went out to him, and she combed her fingers through his thick hair. Her touch caused him to close his eyes again. She stroked his cheek and spoke soothingly. “You don't need to feel like an idiot. You've been through a lot, things you're still trying to deal with.”

“You have no idea.” He opened his eyes again and stared at the leafy canopy. “Oh, Lord, why do You let me go through so much? Couldn't You heal me now and be done with it?”

Cindy wasn't sure how to react. He was praying with his eyes open while lying in a ditch?

He turned to look at her and cracked a wry smile. “God's got a reason for letting me suffer like this, but I sure don't know what it is.”

“Maybe to make you stronger?” She debated sharing her other thought, but it might get him to talk to her instead of keeping everything inside. “Or maybe to teach you to trust others.”

His smile faded, but he kept his gaze locked with hers. “Maybe.”

She stroked his hair again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He sighed and reached up to trail a finger along her jaw. “It's nothing against you. I just don't want to think about it. That chopper caused more than enough thinking for one day.”

So much for getting him to open up. But she could see he'd suffered terribly by having her witness his reaction to a helicopter. “Just know that I'm here if you ever do want to talk.”

“I do.” He sat up and embraced her, holding her close. “You're sweet to put up with me and my problems.”

She hugged him tightly. “Sweetness has nothing to do with it. I care about you, Danny.”

He didn't respond, but his knotted muscles began to relax. When he released her and sat back, his face showed no sign that anything out of the ordinary had happened. Only his familiar haunted gaze remained. How much time did he spend remembering the things that had traumatized him? Going by that haunted shadow, the majority of his waking hours. Of course, he'd admitted to regular nightmares, which indicated he didn't get relief even when asleep. How did he survive?

He touched her cheek, a hint of a smile curving his lips. “Quit analyzing me. I get enough of that from my parents.”

Her face heated. “Sorry. I was just thinking how strong a person you must be.”

He let his hand fall away with a bitter laugh. “I hit the dirt because a helicopter flew over, and you think I'm strong? No offense, but it's a good thing you're still in school if you believe that's an intelligent conclusion.”

She stared at him, irritation at his attitude threatening to surface. Drawing in a calming breath, she reminded herself that it was the PTSD talking, not Danny. That didn't mean she had to let him get away with insulting her, however. “Danny, there's no way to not feel offended by that statement. But you are strong. Otherwise, you wouldn't have survived as well as you have.”

“Basic survival is about all I have.” He looked away and sighed, then he returned his gaze to her and spoke in a gentler tone. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did. But honestly, my only strength comes from God. Without Him, I'd be hiding in a corner waiting for a bomb to go off.”

She laid her hand on his knee, praying he'd feel the strength she saw in him. “You're not in that corner. You're in college and leading a fairly normal life. That's why I say you're strong.”

“Maybe.” He covered her hand with his, the warmth of his skin against hers making her pulse race. “Of course, if I'm strong, you have to admit you're sweet.”

She smiled, glad to see his own sweet side peeking out again. “Okay, I'll admit it.”

“Good.” He rose and helped her to her feet. “Now, let's take the trail down to the river and hope no more triggers show up. It's much easier to relax and enjoy the afternoon with you if I'm not expecting to die any second.”

They retrieved his camera and left the Fiddle Back Mound. As they followed a trail downhill, Cindy prayed the rest of the afternoon would remain peaceful. Seeing Danny react so violently to something as mundane as the sound of a helicopter was something she hoped would never happen again.

“Danny thought we should just so he could see you in it.” He unlocked his car and opened the door. “I think Monique overruled him on it.”

“Remind me to thank her,” Cindy said as she climbed into the backseat.

Lacey laughed and took the front passenger seat as Josh slid behind the wheel. “Even if the guys decide all the women should wear coconut bras, I'm exempt. They know I'd hurt them if they tried to get me in one.”

Josh chuckled and started the engine. “And Matt would be in line right behind you.”

When they arrived at the community center, he parked behind the building with Danny's truck and several other vehicles. Cindy followed him and Lacey inside, hearing talking and laughter before they reached the room the group had rented. They stepped through the open double doors and into a partially decorated luau. Danny stood on a ladder in the center of the room, hanging streamers. He sent Cindy a warm smile and finished with the streamer in his hand, then he climbed down and joined her as Josh and Lacey headed off to take care of their tasks.

Danny put his hands on Cindy's waist and drew her close for a kiss. “Ready to help transform this place into Hawaii?”

“Sure, but only if you promise I don't have to wear coconuts.”

He released her with a laugh. “I see Josh has been talking. No, the coconuts were nixed by Monique. She didn't want Corbin getting any ideas for her costume.”

“I love that woman.” Cindy grinned and set her bag on an uncovered folding table. “So, what do you want me to do?”

“How about you help decorate the tables? Delario volunteered to do it, but he's not quite big enough to do the tablecloths alone. The centerpieces might need a little discreet rearranging after he finishes with them, too.”

“No problem. Point me to the decorating supplies and my young assistant.”

Danny directed her to the stack of boxes in the far corner. Delario was already pawing through one of the smaller cardboard boxes. He turned as Cindy approached and held up a fake pineapple. “Look, Cindy! We can put pineapples on the tables.”

“Awesome!” She smiled at his exuberance, and then turned her attention to the rest of the decorating supplies. Candles in glass holders, silk flowers, plastic tablecloths… Ideas for arrangements flowed like water in her mind as Delario talked a mile a minute about how cool the tables were going to look when they were done.

About an hour before the doors opened to diners, Cindy straightened the last pineapple and flower centerpiece and headed for the restroom to change into her shorts and tank top. When she returned to the dining room, Danny ran his gaze over her and lifted an eyebrow.

“Something's missing.”

She followed him to a large cardboard box by the kitchen door. What could she be missing when she wore what the guys had told her to? Danny pulled out a grass skirt and held it up.

“This should do it.” He helped her tie it around her waist then he stepped back and reached into the box again. This time, he pulled out a lei made of realistic fake flowers. He slipped it over her head and kissed her cheek. “Now, you're ready.”

“I'm glad you approve,” she said, flashing him a smile. “If you'll excuse me, I have to go get a hula lesson or the dinner show is going to be a little difficult.”

In the kitchen, Monique taught her the simple dance between issuing last-minute instructions to her kitchen helpers, and then they rehearsed it twice all the way through.

“I think you've got it,” Monique said, giving Cindy's shoulder a squeeze. “Now you just have to remember it for the next hour or so, and we'll be set.”

“That's the tricky part, but I can handle it.” Cindy glanced at the clock hanging above the door. “I'd better get back out there. With my luck, someone will show up early.”

Monique laughed and turned to answer a question from one of her helpers. Cindy returned to the dining room and found the guys dressed in Hawaiian print shirts. Danny stood on the platform at the back of the room, adjusting a palm tree that had appeared while she was in the kitchen. Corbin limped over to her and handed her a large box of plastic leis.

“These should keep you going for a while. If you run out, let me know.”

“Okay, thanks.” Cindy gave him a questioning look. “What's with the limp?”

He gave her a mock pained look and used a stereotyped old-man voice. “It's my war wounds acting up. I remember one time I was in the jungles of some little island in the Pacific, and angry natives surrounded my platoon. I single-handedly took—”

Josh looked over from lighting candles on the tables nearby. “You're so full of it. You're also the only person to find a Pacific island jungle in a Middle Eastern desert.”

Corbin laughed and dropped the fake voice. “Man, I almost had her convinced, too.”

Cindy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”

“You know, my wife never believes those stories either.” Corbin's grin faded, and he shifted his weight. “Okay, that story might have been bull, but the real reason for the limp is my war wound. My ankle is killing me, but don't tell Monique. She'll make me sit out the dinner.”

Although tempted to tell him sitting down would be a good idea if he hurt that much, she doubted it would go over well. She had another idea he might agree to, however. “You're supposed to be one of the servers, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Trade me jobs. I'll serve so you don't have to walk as much, and you can hand out leis to everyone who comes in. I saw a stool in the kitchen I could drag out here if you want a place to sit. That way, you'll still be helping make the dinner a success, and you won't have to deal with quite as much pain.”