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“And yet—”

“And yet nothing. I. Can’t. Do. This.”

Jill came out of the RV, her concern
written in every step. Lauren hefted the knapsack again.

“Jill’s going to take me home. You two can
stay here and do what you want. But I’m going home.”

John stood there, fuming. She was running
away again instead of facing her fears, instead of coming to grips with her
demons. Before he could stop himself, the word slipped out.

“Coward.”

She turned, her eyes flashing. “You have no
right to judge me, John McAllen.”

“Don’t I? Goddamn it, Lauren, do you think
you’re the only one who came home from Iraq with nightmares?” He lost his
temper, letting her have it all. “I don’t watch around every corner anymore and
I don’t jump at every noise. Why? Because I’ve worked my ass off confronting my
past. Three years I’ve worked at it and you know what? I’m better now. I can
point an unloaded gun in the general direction of a bunch of ‘play soldiers’,
as you call them, and not see the ten-year-old boy I killed by accident in an
ambush. I can hear the cannon roar and hear the sounds of the rifles in my ear
without seeing his mother scream and hold his dying body.

“But you go ahead. You run away from your
nightmares, Lauren. Because you’re the only one who’s ever had a flashback,
you’re the only one who can’t take it. I’ve got news for you, sweetheart. The
world doesn’t stop spinning because you’re having trouble coping.”

Tears streamed down Lauren’s face but he
couldn’t stop. “Go home. You’re right. You don’t belong here.”

For several heartbeats they stood, staring
at each other, their relationship in tatters. Then Lauren turned and fled
toward Will’s truck. Without another word, Jill got in, turned the key in the
ignition and the two were gone.

John didn’t even turn to watch them drive
away. Will came to stand beside him, thinking he hadn’t seen his friend look so
beaten since the two of them came home three years ago.

“I’m sorry, John.”

“I’m fucked up, Will.”

Will nodded. “We all are, buddy. We all
are.”

Chapter Eighteen

Lauren’s rant was all over the evening
news. Beth called to see if she’d seen it. Sarah called immediately after.
Lauren told them both she didn’t want to talk about it and hung up. The TV
pundits were having a field day with her diatribe, asking if reenactments were
safe, if they were, in fact, dishonoring the real war dead with their
playacting. Lauren felt so ashamed.

Although it was nearly nine o’clock, Lauren
called Dr. Butters’ office. The answering service accepted the call and a kind
female voice on the other end told her she would relay the message to Dr.
Butters that this was urgent. She added that, if Lauren felt it a true
emergency, the VA hospital’s emergency department was open. Lauren told her she
only wanted to talk to Dr. Butters, thank you.

She sat on the sofa in her darkened
apartment, brooding over the day’s events. Had it really only been that
morning? She remembered the sunrise and how peaceful everything had been. Then
the cannon let loose and Hell slid in.

The phone rang and she snatched it up. “Dr.
Butters?”

“I’m here, Lauren. I saw the news and hoped
you’d be calling.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Can you come to the office?”

“Yes.”

“Meet me in a half an hour.”

“Thank you.”

She hung up but still sat in the dark, not
quite ready to move. She could hide in the dark, keep the enemy at bay. The
sunlight bared everything while its glare worked to blind you so you couldn’t
see what was in plain sight.

No, darkness was better.

Standing, she walked to her curtains,
staying to the side of the window and peering out. The sun had nearly set.
Another few minutes and it would be dark enough for her to venture outside.
Twilight wasn’t as good as nighttime, but was loads better than sunlight.

Lauren made it to Dr. Butters’ office only
five minutes late. Sitting in the car, she checked her surroundings, only
getting out and hurrying into the building after taking several deep breaths to
calm herself.

A light was on in the office on the second
floor and Lauren hurried toward it. Taking one more good, deep breath, she
opened the door and stepped into the light, her eyes quickly assessing the
room. Finding it empty except for the good doctor, she relaxed for the first
time since making the phone call.

“Tough day?” At fifty-five, Dr. Clifford
Butters had seen it all. Or rather, thought he had. This was the first time
he’d had a patient’s meltdown broadcast on national television. The reporter, a
local who’d been sent out on a routine,
cover-the-reenactment-because-we-need-filler story, suddenly found herself
covering a scene with huge implications. He could only wish the reporter’s
career hadn’t been made on the back of his very nervous patient.

“Sit down, Lauren. You know you’re safe
here.”

Lauren nodded and took the seat indicated.
The office wasn’t huge, just big enough for his desk by the window, a set of
bookcases along the wall and two comfortable leather chairs. She sat on the
edge of one, looking like a scared bird ready to take flight if he said or did
the wrong thing.

“You want to tell me about it?”

At first hesitatingly, then with increasing
passion, Lauren poured out her heart. Her posture, at first controlled and
erect, gradually relaxed as she told him of her love for John, of the kinky sex
they had and of her mixed-up emotions about reenactments. When she would pause,
he’d only ask a small question, but it would be enough to get her rolling again.
For the first time since he’d been seeing her, he felt she was being completely
honest, not only with him but with herself.

When she ran out of steam, he asked another
of those little questions that could lead to something big. “So, do you love
this John McAllen or not?”

Such a simple question. Straightforward.
Lauren turned it over in her mind, trying several different answers until she
found the only answer that fit.

“Yes, I do.”

Dr. Butters smiled at her and for the first
time she smiled back. “What do you need to do to smooth it over with him?”

“I need to apologize.”

“How will you do that?”

Lauren sighed. “He’s still at Sharpsburg, I
suspect. Jill brought me home. Will can drive the RV home on Monday. John and I
had planned to stay until then and come home with them.”

“You could go back.”

“No.” She shook her head. “That wouldn’t be
wise on so many levels.”

He grinned. “Good. I’m glad to hear you say
that.”

“I’ll wait until Monday night and call him
then. I’ll apologize and…take it from there, I guess.”

“And about your job search?”

“I’m still looking. I can’t go into
emergency care, that much I know.”

He nodded and Lauren felt a flush of pride.
She’d taken a huge step backward today. But she’d get better. She was
determined.

“Go get a good night’s sleep. You’ll feel
better in the morning.”

The words were cliché, yet Lauren suspected
they’d gotten to be that way only because they were true. Nodding, she thanked
the doctor and said goodbye. She made it to her car by consciously deciding she
wasn’t going to look around. She made it home double-checking the traffic at
only every other stoplight. And she made it into her apartment without once
looking over her shoulder.

Life was hard, but she’d live it anyway.
She was determined.

* * * * *

A knock on her door got her up earlier than
she’d intended the next morning. When she didn’t move quickly enough, the knock
repeated, louder. “Come on, Lauren, open up or me and Sarah are busting down
this door.”

Lauren threw the lock and unfastened the
chain, yanking the door open before the two of them woke the whole building.
Not only Beth and Sarah stood there, but Phillip as well, no doubt to be the
muscle behind breaking her door in. Lauren poked her head out and, sure enough,
Mrs. Boorman stood in her doorway, fists on her hips, looking disapproving.

“Sorry, Mrs. Boorman,” Lauren called out.
She grabbed Beth’s arm. “Get in here before you wake the entire apartment
building!”

Beth looked comfortable in sweatpants and a
T-shirt but both Phillip and Sarah were dressed for church. Lauren eyed them a
little guiltily. She hadn’t been to church in over a year. God wasn’t on her
good side just now.

“Have a seat and I’ll put on the water.”

“That’s okay,” Sarah stopped her. “We just
needed to make sure you’re okay.”

Beth gave Lauren a hug. “That news report
last night was terrible. Did you really tourniquet his stump?”

“I did.” Lauren smiled a little, feeling a
little proud of herself. She hadn’t allowed herself to relive those moments in
the field except with Dr. Butters last night.

“There’s a YouTube video showing you doing
it. You were amazing.” Sarah gave her a hug as well, then stepped aside as
Phillip came forward to offer his support.

“Really? I’m on YouTube?”

“Our own little star, right here. National
TV yesterday, YouTube today, tomorrow…the world!”

That made Lauren laugh out loud. “Damn, but
I love you guys. You know just the right things to say.”

“Well, we’re not staying,” Sarah informed
her. “What I want to know is, how’s John?”

Lauren shook her head and looked up at Phillip.
“You’d probably know better than me. We had quite the argument.”

“I’m afraid that was also broadcast,” he
told her in his gentle voice.

Lauren shook her head. “After that. Back at
the campground. I came home. He stayed.”

The three exchanged glances. Beth spoke
first by what seemed mutual consent. “You want me to stay with you? I’m not
going to church this morning and Paul’s looking after the baby, so…”

Lauren shook her head. “No, I’m okay.
Really. I went to see Dr. Butters last night and—”

“You did?” Sarah interrupted to hug her
again. “Oh honey, I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks. He just seemed the right person to
talk to.”

“Okay, we’re going to leave you but if you
need anything…”

“I know your number.” Lauren ushered them
out the door.

“I know,” Beth interrupted. “But I’m coming
back later this afternoon to check on you anyway.”

Lauren chuckled. “All right, Mom.”

They made faces at each other and as Lauren
shut the door, she smiled, glad to have friends who cared.

* * * * *

John drove home, the rain that had started
to fall shortly after daybreak a perfect fit for his mood. He’d stayed the rest
of the day but his heart wasn’t here. It had gone home with Lauren. What had
possessed him to say such terrible things to her?

The tent had been borrowed from one of her
friends. It would provide the perfect excuse for him to go over to her
apartment and apologize. In fact, he wouldn’t even stop at home. He’d go right
over there and face the music.

The resolve stayed with him right up until
he entered the city limits. Maybe he should go home and shower first. His
stomach growled. And have dinner. Wouldn’t he think better on a full stomach?
The clock in the car read four-fifteen. His stomach spoke again and John knew
hunger was only part of the reason.

Chickening out, he pulled into his
driveway. Gathering his things, he made a mad dash for the back door as the
rain poured down. A shower. That’s what he needed after two days camping. A hot
shower in his own bathroom.

The phone rang almost as soon as the hot
water hit his wide shoulders. Flipping off the water, he hurried out of the
bath and down the short hall to his bedroom extension. Breathless, he answered,
“Hello?”

The automated voice that clicked in on the
other end wasn’t Lauren’s. He hadn’t even realized that’s who he wanted it to
be until it wasn’t her. He hung up on the sales pitch and headed back to drown
his sorrows in the shower.

He’d just dressed afterward when the knock
sounded on the front door. He opened it to find Phillip standing in the rain.

“Come in, I didn’t expect you.”

Phillip stood in the entryway and shook his
head. He’d let his hair grow since leaving the service, allowing the ends to
touch his ear and collar. Water flew everywhere and John laughingly protested.

“I just got out of the shower, thank you
very much.”

Phillip grinned. “And I just got off the
phone with Will. He told me you’d come back today.”

“Come on in. Let me take your coat.”

“No, I’m not here to stay. Sarah’s in the
car and we’re…playing tonight.”

John knew what that meant. He’d been at
Phillip’s wedding and had enjoyed seeing Sarah’s naked body spread before them.
“I won’t keep you then.”