One Man's War (23 page)

Rubbing his face, Gib nodded. His lips were compressed, as if to stop from bursting into tears.

Pete swallowed hard. “With a lot of care, good food and—most importantly—a lot of love, I think Tess will work through all this, just as you are doing. She has nightmares and wakes up screaming at night, so be prepared.”

Dany nodded. “I still have bad dreams.” She slanted a warm glance toward Gib. “There are nights when one of us wakes up screaming.”

“Yeah,” Gib confided in a rasp.

“The nice thing about our situation,” Dany said reflectively, “is that the one who isn't having the nightmare can simply roll over and hold the other one.” She squeezed Gib's large hand. “At least we have each other to help us through this phase of adjustment, Pete.”

Gib mustered a slight smile filled with emotion. “Thank God we've got each other, and we understand what's going on.”

“That's the difference,” Pete said. “Tess came back to the States and went straight to Washington. She walked unprepared and ignorant into a world that neither understood what she had survived nor wanted to try....” Pete launched into an explanation of Tess's journey to Washington, and how she'd ended up first in El Paso, and finally in Mexico.

Gib looked distraught when Pete finished the story. “There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel the same things she does.” Gib glanced over at Dany. “Except that here on the ranch, it's easier. No one calls me names or looks at me with a blank stare when I want to talk about Vietnam.”

“And,” Dany pointed out gently, “you've got work that you love, Gib.”

“True,” he confessed.

“Tess was pigeonholed in D.C. with a job that was alien to what she loved to do,” Dany said. “She's a fresh-air person, not an office type. Tess loves the land, and if we can slowly get her reinvolved in the ranching activities, I'm sure it will help her.”

Rubbing his hands together worriedly, Pete whispered, “I hope you're right, Dany. God, I hope you're right.”

There was hurt in Gib's voice. “She came back because of you,” he pointed out, “not because of me.” He shook his head. “But that doesn't matter. At least Tess is home, now.”

“It doesn't mean Tess doesn't love you,” Pete said quietly. “She was afraid you wouldn't understand how she was feeling. Hell, I'm not sure
she's
clear on what she's feeling.”

“If only...if only we'd talked. I tried to talk to Tess when she was in D.C., but she made excuses about being busy and said she would call back. She never did.”

“The wounds we carry,” Pete offered, “aren't always visible ones, Gib.” He held out his hands and watched them tremble. “There are times I feel like a bomb ready to detonate.” With a sigh, he stood. “Maybe I'm partly responsible for Tess's actions.” He studied them in the silence. “There's a confession I have to make.”

“Oh?” Gib asked.

Guilt weighed on Pete as they looked expectantly up at him. He'd told no one about getting the orders cut to have Tess sent home. In essence, he'd triggered all her problems with that decision. It was hell living with that knowledge every agonizing second. Spreading his hands wide, Pete rasped, “When I get done telling you what I did, I won't blame you if you never want to see me again....”

Dany was the first to speak after Pete explained his actions. “What you did for Tess wasn't wrong. You were the only one who saw she was suffering from battle fatigue in the first place.” She glanced tenderly over at Gib, who was holding his head in his hands, shoulders slumped. “Gib was too busy running the squadron and had too little contact with Tess to see what was happening to her.” She gave Pete a look of admiration. “But you saw it, that's what's important.”

Pete stood uncertainly, waiting for Gib to accuse him of wrongdoing or to become angry. As Gib raised his head and sat back on the couch, he held Pete's gaze.

“You did the right thing, Pete,” he said unsteadily. “I blame myself for this. At least you recognized Tess's condition. I didn't.”

“Look, Gib, we were in a war situation,” Pete said, hearing the culpability in the man's voice. “It was no one's fault. Even Tess didn't realize what was happening to her.” He swallowed hard. “You aren't upset I took things into my own hands?”

With a soft snort, Gib shook his head. “How can I be? No, I'm grateful.” And then he managed a slight smile. “You're one hell of a scrounger, do you know that? I didn't know you could pull strings clear up to the Capitol.”

Pete shrugged painfully. “Maybe I did the wrong thing. I'm still not sure.” He glanced down the hall where the bedrooms were located. “One of these days, I have to tell Tess what I did. It's eating me up inside. If I hadn't wrangled that transfer to D.C.—”

“Tess could be worse off than she is now,” Gib interrupted heavily. “I've seen American advisors who have been over there for two or three tours. They're shot emotionally.”

“I think you got Tess out just in the nick of time,” Dany added softly. “You saved her life, Pete.”

Pete wasn't sure, but he didn't say anything. “Look, I'll get a motel in Midland and come out and visit Tess tomorrow morning if it's okay with you,” he began in a strained voice. What Pete really wanted was to be with Tess twenty-four hours a day, but he didn't have the right to make that kind of decision. He saw Gib glance up sharply.

“You're staying here, with us. For Tess,” Gib said. “You love her, don't you?”

“With my life,” Pete whispered huskily.

Gib nodded. “Then it's settled. You take the guest bedroom opposite Tess's room. If she needs you, you'll be close at hand.”

Grateful beyond words, Pete stood awkwardly. “This kind of situation is different for me, you know.”

Dany tilted her head. “What is, Pete?”

“Well,” he hedged softly, “family and all. I never had one, a real one, that is.” Pete managed a bashful, one-cornered smile and lifted his shoulders. “I don't know much about how a family operates in circumstances like this. I'm afraid I'll screw it up.”

Dany rose and walked over to Pete. She placed her hand on his shoulder. “For the next few days, you're going to find out what real family means, for Tess and for yourself. As for making mistakes...well, we all make them. In this family there's no recrimination if you do—only support. We'll all try to figure out the best way to undo the error.” She smiled gently. “We're so glad you came, Pete. And more than anything, we know you love Tess.”

Pete hung his head and stared at the hardwood floor. “Yeah,” he whispered, “I love her.” What bothered Pete most was the knowledge that he'd be leaving Tess soon. The hours were slipping away, and he felt a panic deep inside.

“I just don't want to lose her,” he admitted hoarsely, glancing at both of them.

Dany nodded understandingly. “You won't, Pete. Despite how Tess is feeling right now, she'll never forget you came to her rescue. Your love for her is that strong. No, she'll see your commitment regardless of what's happened.”

“I hope you're right,” Pete said softly. Regardless of the consequences, in three short days he had to leave. It would be the most painful separation he'd endured in his entire life.

* * *

Tess stood at the pipe rail fence with one booted foot up on the first rung. A small herd of Hereford mothers and their new calves were kept within the confines. She looked over at Pete, who stood at her elbow, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. It was their last day together. Tomorrow morning, he would leave for Vietnam to finish his tour of duty. Dany was going to drive Pete to Midland to catch the flight that would eventually take him halfway around the world away from Texas.

The sun's long evening rays bathed her back, and Tess felt a peace that always came with Pete's presence. A fierce love for him welled through her, and she fought back the tears. Pete didn't need to see her tears now. He was as miserable over leaving as she was to see him go.

Resting her chin on her hands, Tess admitted quietly, “I'm really going to miss you, Pete.”

“It's mutual, you know.” He barely twisted his head in her direction. Tess wore a long-sleeved plaid cowboy shirt to protect her arms from the sun, and a pair of jeans. Her hair, woven into a thick braid, rested across her shoulder. In the past few days, Tess had steadied emotionally. She had chosen a woman therapist, Dr. Sandy Lawton, in Midland, and had started therapy.

Turning around, his back resting against the fence, Pete gathered Tess into his arms. He ached to make love with her, to seal how he felt, but now wasn't the right time. Tess was too raw, too vulnerable to every emotion. Insisting on physical union might tip her fragile new balance. As she smiled up at him, leaning into the safe haven of his arms, Pete groaned.

“Your weight always feels good against me,” he whispered and pressed a kiss to her hair as she rested her head beneath his jaw, her arms going around his waist. “I'm gonna miss this, you know.”

“What?” Tess whispered back, aching to love Pete.

“Holding you, squeezing you, kissing you. Small things—important things.”

She managed a soft laugh. “Pete, you're a glutton for punishment, then. You've got dark circles under your eyes from getting up at night with my nightmares.” Tess sobered. “But I'm so glad you're there to hold me.”

He grinned and squeezed her. “You gotta admit, it's one hell of an excuse to be in the bedroom with you. It's the only excuse the family would find respectable.”

Laughing with him, Tess raised her head and drowned in the blue warmth of his gaze. “You never lose your sense of humor, you know that? It's just one more thing I love about you.”

Pete felt joy race through him as he drowned in Tess's alert, shining gaze. Since coming back to the ranch, she hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, realizing why she'd drunk it in the first place. This evening, their last evening together, she looked almost like the woman he'd met so many months before in Vietnam. The fixed schedule of ranching was helping give her the necessary stability, a routine around which to begin to refashion her shattered life. And Dany Ramsey was an angel in disguise, Pete decided. She had an intuitiveness about what Tess needed and seemed able to guide both him and Gib in responding to Tess's needs.

“The past few days have been heaven on earth,” Pete murmured as he pressed a kiss to her brow.

“More hell than heaven,” Tess joked weakly. Worriedly, she touched his shaven cheek. “You haven't gotten the rest you need for going back to Vietnam, Pete.”

“Now, now,” he chided, “I'll catch Z's on the flight to Nam, don't worry.” Framing Tess's face, he whispered, “What I don't want to hear while I'm over there is that you aren't getting better daily. Understand? I want you to go to Sandy every week. She's a pretty savvy therapist, in my opinion. I think she can help you a lot, Tess.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “And help around the ranch here as much as you want. Gib can use the extra pair of hands even if he's too damned proud to admit it.”

“Yes, sir,” Tess breathed, smiling. How badly she wanted to love Pete, but she was afraid to ask, afraid that the love he spoke about wasn't forever.... Would Pete walk out of her life permanently now that she was recovering? Had he remained with her out of guilt instead of love? Half her nightmares had been about that, but she'd been afraid to confide in Pete about them.

“I've got something for you, honey,” Pete said, and released her for a moment while he dug into his jeans pocket. “Something,” he said with a tender look, “that I hope you like.” He held up his Marine Corps aviator's ring, suspended on a gold chain.

“What's this?” Tess asked, intrigued.

“Well,” Pete began hesitantly, “how'd you like to go steady with me?” He saw her eyes flare with surprise, and grew suddenly afraid that Tess might turn him down. A lump formed in his throat, but he blindly pushed on. “Remember in high school, how if you went steady with a guy, you always wore his ring on your finger or on a chain around your neck? The girls used to wrap the rings in white angora yarn to make them fit their fingers. Most of the time you'd see this chunk of fuzzy white hair on the girl's hand before you ever saw the ring.”

Tess laughed with him and cupped the ring and chain in her palm. “Yes, I remember.”

“Did you ever do that?”

“Go steady in high school?”

“Yeah.” He watched her lips part as she gently stroked the ring. It was as if she were invisibly stroking him, and he bit back a groan of need.

“Just once...Bobby Tyler gave me his ring to wear.” Tess shook her head. “I gave it back the next day.”

“That was a fast steady,” Pete joked.

“Sure was. Bobby beat up on one of my friends the same day. When I found out about it, I caught him at his locker after school and threw the ring back at him, in tears. No boy who professed to like me was going to beat up on one of my friends.”

Pete smiled and rested his arms lightly against Tess's shoulders. “If you accept my ring, you can't throw it back at me twenty-four hours later, you know. I'll be gone.”

Lifting her chin, Tess drew in a ragged breath, the ring heavy in her hand. She was bathed in the tender blue of his gaze, and her heart lurched in her breast. “Wh-what does it mean if I wear your ring?”

He felt her tremble and caressed her flaming cheek. “It means we're serious about each other, that we love each other.” Glancing down at the gold ring, its red stone gleaming, he met her lustrous emerald gaze. “It means I want you to wait for me. And when I get back, honey, I'm going to ask you the most important question I've ever asked a woman.”

Shaken, Tess's fingers closed around the ring. Tears filled her closed eyes and she leaned her brow against his jaw. “I'll wear it for both of us,” she quavered.