The Long Road Home (9 page)

"That's okay. I'm not planning on moving." She sank her teeth into a piece of buttered toast. "You can just let me know."

"It's a deal." He ate the last bite of eggs.

She nodded. "A good deal."

By the time they finished eating, cleaned up the kitchen, loaded the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, the clock struck eleven thirty. She checked the time and cringed. "I've got to get moving since I'm not sure what the road conditions will be like getting from the parking garage to the main highway."

"At least you won't have to thaw your car out of an igloo since we used the tenant parking garage."

"Thank goodness for that." She eyed him, curious why he stood in the living room as if he had all day to get ready to go.

"Are you going to meet them at the airport?"

"Mom thought it would be too cold, too much of a hassle to go out."

She met his gaze steadily. "And what do you think and want?"

He seemed to consider her question for a moment and come to a conclusion. "I want to go to the airport." His chin lifted with determination.

She shot him a bright, proud smile. "Then get moving. I'll drop you by on my way."

Gwen tugged on her heavy winter coat and tennis shoes, watching as Logan did the same, except he carefully slipped a hiking boot over the prosthesis, a match to his good foot. Task done, he pulled a black band with shiny silver spikes over each shoe and secured them tightly.

"What's that?"

"Shoe spikes. Gives me more traction on the ice."

"Dang. You Boy Scouts are really prepared for anything."

He chuckled. "Army Ranger, baby."

She smiled widely. "A sexy Army Ranger at that." With a giggle, she clutched her suitcase and walked through the door.

Their luck held as the trek to the car wasn't nearly as treacherous as when they'd arrived since some kind soul had sprinkled rock salt along the sidewalk, which resulted in a partial clearing all the way to the parking garage. The car sat just as they had left it, minus beads of frozen precipitation.

Gwen skidded a bit on the side street but found the main roads much better, the highway nearly cleared after two straight days of road crews working diligently to remove every puddle and icy patch. She thanked them under her breath.

Pulling up to the airport terminal, she turned to Logan, her heart on her sleeve. "I'm going to miss you."

He grinned and leaned in for a savory kiss. "Me, too." Snatching her cell phone from her purse, he quickly entered in his phone number, then repeated the action on his own device. "There you go." He stuffed his phone back into his jacket pocket and met her gaze.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Take it easy."

"Will do." He leaned in for one more, brief meeting of lips, then sat back and opened his passenger door. "Talk to you soon."

"I'll be waiting." She watched him stand, gain his balance with a firm grip on the door, then walk into the terminal.

She sighed with a hint of loneliness, then pulled out of the drop-off lane and headed home.

Chapter 16

Logan glanced at the clock, palmed his phone, and punched in a number. She answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Gwen?"

"Logan! Did your parents make it in okay?"

He could hear the smile in her voice. The fact she responded so cheerfully to his call sent a warm glow over him. "Yeah, they did. We got home about three hours ago. How about you? Any problems driving home?"

"Nope. The roads actually improved the farther away from New York. There's still some ice here, but nothing like what you guys had there. My clocks were still right, so I don't think I lost power at all."

"Good." He had worried about her driving on slick roads for such a distance.

"So, how's it going with your parents?"

He read between the lines with her questions. Smart and quick, she deduced his parents hadn't seen his injury and wondered how they would accept his disability. "Okay, I guess. Mom is already fretting over me. Dad is supportive but not saying a whole lot."

She puffed out a breath of air. "Sounds a bit tense there."

He shrugged, then realized she couldn't see the gesture. "A little bit, I guess. They're afraid to ask questions, I think. Unsure how to even broach the subject."

"Have you considered tossing the topic out for discussion?"

"Not really." Reliving the explosion and talking about his loss sat at the bottom of his conversation list. He much preferred to shove everything to the back of his mind and not dwell on the traumatic event, though sometimes the images snuck back out, especially at night.

"It might help. I'm sure they're treading lightly, not wanting to say anything that might sound offensive. At the same time, they aren't sure how you'll take their questions or comments."

He plopped down on his bed and rubbed absently at his thigh. She had a point. As much as he didn't want to talk about it, the tension in the house proved frustrating and annoying. The last thing he wanted to do was regret this time with his parents because of his cowardice in avoiding the subject.
Suck it up, soldier.

He took a deep breath and made a decision. "True. Might as well bite the bullet and get the difficult stuff out of the way."

"Sounds like a good plan to me. If you get it over with, things might settle back down. Heck, if all else fails, I'm sure there's another two dozen cookies hiding in the cookie jar."

He smiled, remembering how many Christmas cookies they'd baked the first night. Oodles and gobs, definitely. "There was one interesting moment already."

"Really?"

"Yep. Mom found the condoms you gave me sitting on the coffee table."

Gwen gasped in the phone. "Oh, no."

"Oh, yes. She held them up and asked what kind of friend I had over for the holidays." He chuckled. "You should have seen her face. A combination of horror and relief, I think."

"What did your father say?"

"He grinned, slapped me on the back, and said 'way to go, son.'"

A giggle carried through the line. "Good grief. What they must think, especially since those were extra large and candy cane striped."

He knew a blush had to cover her face and wished he were there to see it. "Well, Dad was impressed by the size and colors. I swear he pocketed one of them for closer inspection later after I told him they were supposed to be flavored as well."

"Your mother…?"

"Asked what in the world you did for a living. I told her you're a condom tester. Her mouth gaped open, and she finally managed words. Dad snickered the whole time."

"What did she ask?"

"If she really needed to know why I spent the holiday with a condom tester and had souvenir condoms left over. I told her probably not."

"Then what happened?"

"She blushed to the roots of her hair and made a beeline for the kitchen." Another bout of laughter followed as he recalled how his information about the condoms sent his mother scurrying. As nosey as she tended to be, he didn't think anything would surprise her. Obviously, he was wrong.

"Oh my." Gwen tittered.

"Uh huh." He waited for her humor to settle. "Oh, the reason I called. Walter Reed wants me to show up Monday morning to get all my registration paperwork done and start with my initial therapy session."

"That soon? Wow. And here I thought the government worked slower than snail speed."

Logan grinned at her analogy. "Usually. Guess this must be the exception." He paused a beat. "Is that okay? I know it's short notice being today is Friday."

"No, no. Monday is actually perfect. I had originally taken most of next week off to spend in Nebraska with my family. Well, since that fell through, I've been thinking of calling work and returning early. That way I can save a couple vacation days to use later. I'll keep Monday off, which will give me time to talk to my boss and get the nod to come back on Tuesday." She paused for a second. "Do you want to drive in Sunday? That way you won't have to be up so early with a four hour drive. You can get a full night's sleep here and be ready for your first day."

"That's a good idea. Are you sure, though? I don't want to intrude or make any problems."

"I'm positive. In fact, I'm already excited. I'll make up the spare bedroom, go grocery shopping. Get this house shipshape and ready for company."

"Gonna make more homemade bread?" He crossed his fingers.

"You want some?"

"Absolutely."

"Then I'll see if I can toss together a few more loaves. Can't let the special guest starve, after all."

Swinging around, he leaned back against his pillows, noticing his reflection in the dresser mirror. A relaxed grin covered his face as he talked to the petite brunette who had left a few short hours ago.

His expression said it all. A man with a major crush on a woman, who enjoyed sitting around and shooting the bull, making plans for their next time together. The guys in his old unit would tease him mercilessly if they saw his expression right now. Tough warriors weren't supposed to look like teens in love for the first time. They were supposed to carry confidence, seize the day, sweep the woman off her feet, and drag her to his man cave. He snorted at the thought.

Too bad he couldn't be with them to hear their ribbing. A wave of sadness and regret stole his grin.

"Logan? Everything okay?" Gwen's voice laced with concern.

"Yeah. Just thinking."

"About?"

He debated how much to tell her. After all, they were just together a couple of days and laying a heavy weight on her shoulders might prove too much for her to bear, especially this early in their relationship. You won't know until you try. Like his drill sergeant always said, he wanted to know what a soldier could stand before he marched with them into battle. Better to know ahead of time than find out in the middle of a firefight.

Blowing out a slow breath, he focused on the words. "I miss the Army. My old job and the other Rangers in my unit."

"You want to go back?"

She hit the nail on the head. "I wish. But with this prosthesis, it ain't happening."

"Have you thought about what else you might want to do with your life?"

"Some. Nothing comes to mind. I was damned content where I was, despite the danger. If the bomb would have taken my life instead of just my leg, I would have died happy."

A pregnant silence greeted him. "You're a warrior, born and bred. I can see that in everything you do. I know it's hard now and will be in the future, but I'm thankful the way things turned out. To have this second chance…" She sighed. "I wish there was some way you could return to the job you love. If not that, then perhaps something similar."

He accepted her sympathy and wrapped the emotion around himself. "I do, too."

"You know…"

"Yes?"

"I'm sure the people at Walter Reed are full of information and knowledge. Perhaps one of them might have some suggestions. Either the doctors, nurses, or your physical therapists. Surely they've seen other patients who dream of the same thing as you?"

He considered her idea for a moment. "Probably. Some of the guys are much worse off than me, so they'd face more limitations. Maybe with just a single prosthesis, there's something I can do."

"I think there's a lot you can do. You just don't know it yet."

"I hope you're right."

Her tone brightened. "Of course, I'm right. Condom testers always are."

He snorted and found his sadness ebbing beneath her encouraging words. "I'll take your word for it."

"You should. If one of my condoms can't pass the water balloon test, then the country is gonna have one heck of a population explosion."

Laughter struck out of the blue. "Good point."

"Logan? Dinner's ready," his mother hollered from the kitchen.

"I guess I'd better go. Mom has food on the table."

"Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for coming to my rescue."

"No problem. Thanks for making my holiday one to remember."

"You're welcome. I'll see you Sunday?"

"Count on it." With that said, he clicked off.

The day couldn't come soon enough.

Chapter 17

"Sit down, Logan. I'll get your plate ready."

"Thanks, Mom. But I can get it myself."

"Nonsense. I'm already up."

He took a seat at the dining table and sipped the glass of water on the placemat.

"This looks good, Tilly." Logan's father carried his chinaware to the stove and loaded up with steaming food.

His mother bustled around the kitchen, dipping hot vegetables and a pork chop onto the plate before placing the food in front of him. "Thank you. It's Logan's favorite. To celebrate his being home."

Home forever. Logan cringed at his mother's unintended reminder of his hopeless situation. She'd pampered and fussed over him every minute since he had met them at the airport. First, she lectured him on getting out in the ice to meet them, clucking when he told her Gwen dropped him off so he didn't have to hike in the mess. Five times in the past three hours, she'd inquired if he was comfortable or if she could bring him something. Each time, he had clamped his back teeth and chided himself for his short temper and sensitivity. After all, she only did those things and said what she did out of love.