Battlefield of the Heart (16 page)

Corbin started to protest, and Josh joined them. “It's a good plan, and you know Monique's going to see that limp and make you sit down anyway. You might as well beat her to it and keep her from worrying so much.”

“I hate it when I'm defeated by logic.” Corbin sighed and ran a hand over his hair. “Okay, I'll trade you jobs. I'm not doing your hula dance, though. You and Monique are on your own.”

Cindy grinned, relieved he didn't seem to be too down about the change in plans. “Aw, I wanted to get all of you guys in grass skirts. Where am I going to get my blackmail photos now?”

“I guess you'll just have to do without them.” He lifted the box of leis from her arms. “Josh can explain your job to you.”

She watched him limp toward the entrance, then she turned to Josh. “So, what am I doing?”

“Once we start serving, you'll get food from the kitchen and bring it out to the tables,” he said, moving to light more candles. “After everyone's been served, just keep an eye on the tables and make sure everyone has what they need. If someone's glass is getting low, offer to refill it. If a table looks like they need more rolls, go get a fresh basket.”

“Basically, do the same thing I've done at every other dinner I've helped with.”

Josh lifted his eyebrows with a smile. “Ah, you have experience. Yeah, just do that, and you should be fine.”

****

Everyone agreed the dinner was a huge success. The guests enjoyed themselves and the food, the donations had been generous, and Cindy and Monique's hula had received plenty of applause. Once they finished the cleanup, Cindy changed back into her jeans and sweatshirt. As she walked with Danny out to his truck, she slipped her hand into his.

He gave it a squeeze. “You do one awesome hula.”

“Monique was better.”

They stopped by the truck, and Danny put his hands on Cindy's waist, drawing her toward him. “I only had eyes for you. For all I know, Monique was square dancing with that palm tree.”

She laughed softly. “That is an interesting mental image.”

“I thought you'd like it.” He gave her a kiss then turned to unlock his truck.

When they arrived back on campus, Cindy dropped her bag off in her room, and then she and Danny went for a walk through the quad. She took a deep breath of the cool fall air, enjoying the time with the man quickly stealing her heart. If only he'd talk to her about whatever had been bothering him since their trip to Mounds State Park.

She grabbed his hand and smiled when he glanced at her. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing, really.” He shrugged and looked around the vacant quad. “It's a nice night.”

“Yes, it is.” How many more times could he deny thinking about anything and change the subject? After a few more steps, she tried again. “Are you sure you don't have anything on your mind? You seem kind of — I don't know — tense or worried or something.”

He gave her a tight smile. “I'm fine.”

She knew he was lying; the haunted shadow in his eyes gave him away. Unfortunately, God didn't seem to be in any hurry to answer her prayers for Danny to open up.

Danny remained silent as they strolled along the paved paths. She wished she could force him to tell her what was on his mind, but he was a stubborn man, even when it wasn't in his best interest. All she could do until he decided to let her in on his thoughts was spend time with him and pray he soon realized the only way to have a healthy relationship was through communication.

Back at the dorm, he walked her upstairs. They stopped in the vacant lobby for a little privacy, since Leann was probably in the room and it was late enough that the girls on the hall would be doing their nightly back and forth between rooms and showers.

“I'm really glad you were there tonight,” he said, stepping close.

“I had a lot of fun.”

“I think everyone did.” He looked at her for a long moment, his gray eyes full of warmth. “You are such a sweet woman.”

She smiled as attraction charged the air around them. He put his hands on her waist, drew her close, and kissed her. When she draped her arms over his shoulders, he deepened the kiss. He backed her against the wall, one hand in her hair, the other at her waist. As he moved even closer, his strength and the warmth of his body against hers made her uncomfortable. Heart pounding, she put her hands on his shoulders and applied light pressure as he started to kiss her neck.

“Danny.”

“Hmm?” He continued kissing her, pressing against her as though he couldn't get close enough.

She applied more pressure. “Danny, stop it.”

He lifted his head, his eyes only a few inches from hers as he met her gaze. Fear flashed through his eyes, and he released her, backing away. “I am so sorry.”

Cindy stepped away from the wall as he turned toward the hall. “Wait.”

He didn't give any indication he heard her as he disappeared through the door. Moisture blurred her vision. What had he been afraid of? To have him look at her like that and walk away worried her, especially since it came on top of something bothering him that he wouldn't talk about.

Oh, Father, be with him. Comfort him. Protect him.

She went into the hall and discovered it empty, so she opened the stairwell door. Listening carefully, she didn't hear anyone above or below her. She hurried down to the second floor, praying Danny had gone to his room.

There was no reply when she knocked, and she didn't hear anyone inside. She headed back to the stairs; maybe he'd answer his cell phone. He needed to know she was worried about him, not angry. As she opened the door, the scuff of a footstep sounded behind her. Turning around, she found Danny standing uncertainly several feet away, his features pale.

She let the stairwell door swing shut and walked toward him. “Are you okay?”

He nodded and took a hesitant step forward. “I'm so sorry, Cindy. I just—” He ran his hand through his hair and looked at the floor. “There's no excuse for the way I treated you up there.”

Why was he beating himself up so much over a minor incident? She reached out and gently laid her hand his arm, causing him to lift his head. “Things happen. What you did isn't that big a deal, but I'd appreciate it if you don't do it again. I care about you, Danny, but I'm not ready for what you apparently want.”

He thrust his fingers into his hair then dropped his hand to his side with a sigh. “What I want—” A guy came out of a nearby room, and Danny took Cindy's hand, tugging her toward the door of his room. “Let's talk in here. I promise all I'm going to do is talk.”

She followed him without hesitation. He might have gotten a little too passionate upstairs, but she still trusted him not to hurt her. She moved to the center of the floor and turned to face him, noticing a couple of prescription bottles beside his camera on one of the desks. He closed the door but didn't move any closer to her as he spoke quietly.

“What I want is to feel. I'm numb to everything most of the time, and I want to remember what it's like to care, to share an emotional connection with someone. You make me
feel
, Cindy. When I'm with you, I don't want to leave.” He took a step toward her. “You make me feel like a man again instead of an empty shell.”

Her eyes misted over as she saw his despair. How could she have missed how miserable he was?

Danny lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. “Don't cry, Cindy. Please don't cry.”

She crossed the distance to him and wrapped him in a hug. He held her close as she spoke softly. “The tears are for you. I had no idea.”

“Most people don't.” His voice was raw with emotion. “I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid it might scare you off.”

She leaned back to look him in the eye. “It doesn't scare me off, but it does make me worry about you. Have you talked to a professional about not feeling anything?”

He nodded and released her. “I'm on medication that's supposed to help with the depression, and I see a counselor every couple of weeks. I should go more often, but they can't fit me into their schedules.”

Cindy prayed for wisdom. The thought on her mind might help him, but it might give her more information about what he was going through than she wanted. He looked so uncertain her heart broke. She had to try to help him, whatever the consequences. “Danny, will you talk to me? I'm not a counselor, but I'll listen.”

“You don't know what you're volunteering for.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “I'm dealing with a lot.”

“I know you are.” She prayed for the words to convince him she wanted to help. “But if this relationship is going to go anywhere past where it is now, you've got to talk to me. I'm sure there are a lot of things you haven't told me about, and I have no doubt there are some things you will never tell me. But I can't be a good girlfriend and support you if I don't know what's going on with you.”

“Cindy…”

She stepped over to his desk and picked up one of the prescription bottles. A quick glance revealed his name on the label, and she held it up as she turned toward him. “You never even told me you're on medication until just now. I'm sure hearing what you dealt with in Iraq and Afghanistan — and what you're dealing with now because of it — won't be easy. But I seriously doubt it'll be any harder than barely knowing the man I'm dating. Most of what you've told me is about your life before the army and your life since getting out. That leaves a six-and-a-half-year gap in which a lot of things happened to make you who you are now. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to have you shut me out of the part of your life that had such a deep impact on you?”

Danny stayed quiet so long she worried she'd pushed too far. Finally, he spoke in a low tone, his gaze more haunted than she'd ever seen it. “You want to know what I dealt with? Death, suffering, terrorism. One of the many things that keeps me awake at night is knowing I killed an innocent child. I will never forget the face of that boy. We were on patrol in an area where there'd been a lot of sniper attacks, and we saw what looked like a rifle barrel sticking out of a window. There was a shadow of a person behind it. I took care of it. Then we went into the house to make sure there were no other snipers. When we got to that room, there was a boy lying on the floor, dead because of my bullets. He couldn't have been more than ten or eleven. The part that really hurts is that he didn't even have a gun. It was a stick. I shot a kid with a stick!”

He lowered his head to his hands as he began to sob. The broken sound tore through Cindy's heart.
Oh, Lord, comfort him.
His pain and remorse were so tangible that she briefly regretted pushing him. But it had been necessary to get him to talk to her, and talking about what had traumatized him was the only way he even had a chance of recovering. She returned the prescription bottle to his desk, crossed the room, and wrapped her arms around him. He clung to her as he drew in deep, shuddering breaths.

“It was an accident,” she whispered, stroking his hair. “You did what you had to do to protect yourself and your fellow soldiers. If it had been a sniper and you'd hesitated even a second, you might not be here now.”

“There was an investigation,” he said, his voice hoarse. “The army cleared me of any wrongdoing. So did the Iraqi government. But it didn't give that boy back to his family.”

How could she help him absolve himself of guilt so he could move on with his life? She'd known he was haunted by horrible things, but she'd never expected something like this. What else had he endured in the course of serving his country? She continued to hold him, willing him to feel how much she cared, until he quit shuddering. He stepped back and looked at her with red-rimmed eyes.

“Do you want to date a child killer?”

Cindy framed his face with her hands and spoke firmly as she looked him in the eye. “You are not a child killer. That boy's death was a mistake. Nobody holds you responsible for it.”

Danny closed his eyes, his features filled with anguish. “I hold myself responsible. I even tried to send his family some money to help them out, but no one would tell me where to send it. I ended up giving it to a charity that helps kids orphaned by the war.”

She blinked back tears and stroked his cheek with her thumb. “That's the man I'm dating. Generous, doing everything he can to correct his mistakes, and goodhearted. You have to forgive yourself, Danny. Accept that it was a mistake and forgive yourself.”

He turned and walked to his bed, dropping onto the edge. Cindy sat beside him and laid her arm across his shoulders. They sat quietly for a few minutes, and then he began to talk. She found herself wiping away tears as she listened to his pain-filled words describing things he'd witnessed and done. Seeing friends killed and civilians blown up, terrifying women and children while searching for insurgents, killing to protect himself and others… She had no idea how he'd kept all of this hidden from her for so long, although it explained why he suffered so much even now, a year after returning home from his last deployment.

When he got up to take his prescriptions, which he told her were an antidepressant and a mood stabilizer, she stretched out on his bed. It was late and she was tired, but he still seemed interested in telling her about what had made him the man he was.

Danny sat down beside her. “You don't have to stay.”

Cindy smiled and grasped his hand. “You're not done talking.”

“I have six and a half years' worth of stuff to talk about,” he said with a heavy sigh. “It'll be a while before I'm done talking about all of it.”

“And I want to be here as long as you need someone to listen.”

She started to sit up, but he leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss. “Lie down. I can tell you're tired. You have no idea how special I feel knowing you're staying up for me.”

“You are special.” She settled onto his pillow. “Now, finish telling me about that patrol.”

He untied her sneakers and pulled them off as he talked. Cindy didn't know if it was because he didn't want her shoes on his bed or some other reason, but she didn't mind. Having her shoes off felt too good. Once he set her sneakers on the floor, he leaned back against the wall and laid her legs across his lap.

His gaze was on the dark window across the room, but he had a faraway expression that made her wonder if he even saw the dorm room or if he saw the narrow street in Kirkuk he was telling her about. Danny's quiet voice filled the air with the tale of an ill-fated patrol, and then he drifted into silence. Cindy looked up at him and found him staring across the room, apparently lost in his memories. She decided to wait for another day to ask him to talk. After tonight, she had a feeling he'd be more willing to share what he had on his mind without her needing to push him.

As the silence stretched and his warmth seeped into her legs, it became more difficult to keep her eyes open. Although she fought to stay alert on the off chance he wanted to talk some more, she soon dozed off.

Something brushed Cindy's cheek, and she opened her eyes to see Danny sitting beside her. He smiled and stroked her cheek again.

“You're beautiful when you sleep, but you ought to go up to your own room.”

She shifted and stretched a little. “I didn't mean to fall asleep.”

“Don't worry about it.” He stood and glanced at the other bed in the room. “I'll walk you upstairs.”

She looked toward the other bed as she sat up. Danny's roommate was wrapped up in a blanket and appeared to be out cold. “How long was I asleep?”

“About an hour. I thought about waking you earlier, but you looked so comfortable.”

Cindy nodded and retrieved her sneakers from the floor. She briefly considered putting them on but decided not to bother; she'd just take them off again in a couple of minutes, anyway. Danny held the door for her and walked quietly beside her to the stairwell. He still hadn't said anything by the time they reached her room, and she turned toward him.

He shifted his weight and met her gaze before she could say anything. “Cindy, are you okay after hearing all that stuff?”

“I'm fine.” She laid her hand on his arm, noting the shadow in his eyes. “Are you going to be okay?”

Danny stepped close and slid his arms around her. “Just knowing you're willing to listen helps more than I believed possible.”

She leaned against him, relishing the warmth of his embrace, then she turned to unlock her door. “Good night, Danny.”

“Night, Cindy,” he said and headed for the stairs.

She stepped into her dark room. The shadow on Leann's bed indicated her roommate was already asleep. Cindy shut the door with a barely audible click and changed into her pajamas without bothering to turn on a light. Once in bed, she grabbed her fluffy duck and clutched it to her chest as she closed her eyes. She might be fine after hearing Danny's memories, but knowing what he suffered with every day made her want to cry. He'd been through so much, and she'd heard only a tiny part of it tonight.