Never Surrender (18 page)

“Gabe?”

Bay’s soft voice was close. He opened his eyes. She was standing before him, holding out a glass of ice-cold lemonade toward him. “Mama said you’d earned this.” And she smiled.

Their fingers met and touched, the glass frosty and wet. “Thanks.”

Bay sat down next to him. “This has been the most fun I’ve had since getting home,” she admitted. “I love to can fruit and vegetables.”

He tasted the tart and sweet lemonade that Eva-Jo had made earlier. “You’re happy.” It was said simply, but it was the truth. They locked eyes, and Gabe died a thousand deaths, wanting to love her when she gave him that tremulous smile of hers. It was getting tougher to lie at her side. She was completely unaware of the strain on him. And Gabe wasn’t about to tell her.

When he held her, she slept deeply. Bay was regaining her weight, eating well, and her eyes were far clearer than they’d been in July. He’d sell his damn soul to see her healed. He’d sleep with her and never touch her if that would get her back to being herself. Gabe never thought of himself as a monk, but now, he was one. Life held so many damned torturous twists and turns.

A dark green Chevy truck filled with cut wood chugged noisily up the dirt road to the main cabin. Gabe remembered that Poppy had wood being delivered today. She had a woodstove, not electric baseboard or natural gas or propane to heat the two cabins. Gabe had never met the man she’d hired to deliver it.

Bay frowned and looked toward the truck. She was jumpy about anything she didn’t recognize. Always on guard. Alert. Tense. He reached out and briefly touched her shoulder.

“I think that’s the guy who cuts the wood for your mother.”

Frowning, Bay said, “I’ve never seen this truck before.”

“He usually comes in the late afternoon when you’re napping, that’s why.”

The truck stopped. The man climbed out and walked around the front of the vehicle.

Bay choked. The glass dropped out of her hand as she leaped to her feet. It felt as if someone had hit her in the chest with a fist. The man had black hair and a black beard. When he lifted his hand in hello and looked up at them, she gave a guttural cry.

Gabe sprang to his feet as her glass of iced tea shattered on the porch. Her choking cry was like that of an animal knowing it was going to die. The shrieking sound seared through him as he reached out to grip Bay’s arm. And then, just as suddenly, her knees buckled.
Jesus!

Making a lunge, Gabe caught Bay before she collapsed onto the deck. He heard Poppy yelling at the wood man. Eva-Jo raced out on the porch, shaken and panicked. The wood man halted, his brows shooting up in surprise, his expression confused. Breathing hard, Gabe managed to gather Bay into his arms. She’d fainted. He turned, seeing Poppy race out the door, her eyes wide.

“Something happened,” he growled. “Let me get her to your bedroom.”

“Yes, hurry!” Poppy looked fearful. Her glance went from Bay to the wood man standing at the bottom of the porch, nonplussed by the sudden flurry of unexpected excitement.

Gabe cursed under his breath. That man had somehow accidentally triggered something for Bay.
Dammit!
He pushed the door to Poppy’s bedroom open with the toe of his boot and quickly laid Bay down on the quilt covering the full bed.

Poppy ran in, panting. She went over to her wan daughter. “I’ll get a cold cloth.”

Gabe made sure Bay was breathing all right, tipping her head back to open her airway. He sat down facing her, picking up her limp, cold fingers. Jesus, what the hell had just happened out there? He anxiously watched her face as he opened the collar around her neck. Bay was waxen, her lips slack, her breathing shallow.

Poppy ran back in, thrusting the cloth into his outstretched hand. “I’m calling Dr. Evans,” she said, her voice off-key.

“Do that,” Gabe called, gently bathing Bay’s forehead with the damp cloth.

Eva-Jo ran in, sobbing. “I-is Baylee okay? Is she hurt?”

Gabe turned, seeing her anxiety. “She’s going to be all right, Eva-Jo. Can you get me some water for Bay?” He had to get her out of here, her sobs loud and upsetting even to him. He felt badly for Eva-Jo, who leaned so heavily on Bay for emotional support.

Feeling Bay’s pulse with his two fingers, Gabe felt it bounding and leaping. What had scared her so badly that she fainted? Bay wasn’t the kind of person to faint. Hell, she’d faced life-and-death combat with him and was as steady and cool under fire as he was. Her fright told him something about the extreme trauma that had triggered it.

The wood man pounded on the screen door, the sound reverberating through the house.

“Hey, Miss Poppy? What’s goin’ on in there? Can I help ya’ll?”

Irritated, Gabe wanted to tell him to shut the hell up. His voice made Bay tense again, even in unconsciousness. Gabe had never seen a reaction like this in his life. Should he be doing something else for her medically? He pressed the cloth against Bay’s face and neck.

Bay moaned. Her lashes fluttered. She felt a cold cloth on her brow, felt someone’s warm hand gripping hers. Feeling as if she were spinning out of control, she opened her eyes. Gabe was staring down at her, fear reflected in his eyes. Fear for her. Heart pounding, she heard another man’s voice.
Oh, God! It was his voice!
Weakly, she pushed herself up on her elbow, jerking her attention toward the open bedroom door.

“Hey, Miss Poppy?” the wood man called.

Gabe turned as the man in the black beard peered around the corner of the door. He opened his mouth, but his words were cut short.

Bay gasped, scrambled up against the headboard, shrieking and throwing her arms over her head to protect herself.

“Get out of here,” Gabe roared, leaping to his feet and moving toward him, his fist curled.

The man blanched. His eyes went huge, and he quickly left.

Bay sobbed, moving into a fetal position. It was then the whole memory of her capture, tending Taliban injured soldiers and Khogani raping her, occurred. Bay slid down on the bed, crying wildly.

Gabe stood helplessly, unsure what to do. He dropped the cloth, and he pulled Bay into his arms. She shrieked, fighting him, lashing out.

Staggering back, shocked, Gabe blinked. She must have remembered
everything
. The horror showed on her face. He couldn’t stand to watch her curled up, trembling violently, whimpering like a hurt animal, her hands over her head, trying to hide.

Wiping his mouth, Gabe cursed softly. He walked to the other side of the bed, crawled across it and, in one motion, slid his hand beneath Bay’s neck and beneath her thighs. It took all of his strength to lift and turn her directly into his arms. He didn’t care if she fought him or not—Bay had to feel safe.

Poppy raced into the room, her eyes filled with tears. She halted. “What can I do?” she demanded.

“I don’t know,” Gabe growled, holding Bay against him, her weeping tearing him apart. “She saw that man. It triggered... God, I don’t know what the hell it triggered. A flashback, probably.”

Poppy stared at her daughter curled up against him, her face pressed against his neck, her hands covering her face, weeping as if her soul was being torn apart. “I’ve got Doc Evans coming. He’ll be here in about thirty minutes.”

Nostrils flaring, Gabe rasped, “Okay. Keep that guy with the beard the hell out of here. And don’t let Eva-Jo in.”

Nodding jerkily, Poppy said, “I’ll make sure. Just holler if you need anything? Anything else I can do, Gabe?”

His mouth drew into a tight line. “No.”

The door closed. Thank God, Gabe thought, focusing fully on Bay. She hadn’t fought him. Once he got ahold of her, she collapsed against him, weeping ceaselessly. He closed his eyes, leaning back against the headboard, one leg on the floor, one on the bed. All Gabe could do was croon softly to Bay, slip his fingers gently though her hair and hold her.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

B
AY
SLOWLY
OPENED
her eyes. It was dark. And she was warm in her own bed. But her throat was raw, and she felt beaten up inside. The bedroom door quietly opened. She turned over on her back, looking toward it. Recognizing Gabe’s silhouetted form, she relaxed.

“I’m awake,” she croaked. Her head ached. Her whole body felt dismantled, torn up and then hastily cobbled back together again. The light from the hallway was just enough for her to see Gabe walk around the bed. His eyes glittered with unknown emotion. She could feel his worry. As he sat down on the bed, his hip resting against hers, Gabe reached out and barely touched her cheek.

“What happened out there this afternoon, baby? What set you off?”

Struggling, Bay pushed herself up into a sitting position with Gabe’s help. She leaned against the headboard, drawing the blanket up around her waist, suddenly cold. His hand came to rest next to hers, and she slipped her fingers in his grasp.

“The black beard,” she whispered tiredly. “The man bringing in the load of wood. I saw the beard and...and—” her voice broke and she fought to speak. “Gabe, it was Mustafa Khogani. He raped me.” She lifted her hands, pressing them in shame against her face.

“Ah, baby, come here....” Gabe moved closer, pulling her gently into his arms so she could lay her head on his shoulder. Taking the blanket, he drew it up around her shoulders, trying to keep her warm. “I’m sorry, so sorry,” Gabe whispered, his voice cracking. He rested his cheek against her hair, moving his hand gently up and down her back.

Bay shut her eyes tightly, trying to speak. Her throat tightened. She forced the words out, her voice hoarse, stumbling over the memories in the cave. Her voice shook with grief as she told him of the child Khogani had not helped. She spoke in rapid-fire sentences, as if she couldn’t get words out fast enough, or it would eat her up alive. And all the while Gabe’s arms surrounded her, holding her strong, holding her safe. Bay was engulfed in anxiety and paralyzing fear as she recounted her captivity to him. She’d feel Gabe tense. Feel him tremble. Or, he’d murmur soothing words to her and hold her closer, as if trying to sponge away some of her terror, her grief and pain.

It hurt to talk after she finished. Drained, Bay dragged in a broken breath.

“It’s over, baby. The worst is over. You remembered it. Dr. Torrance said better out than in.” Gabe pressed a chaste kiss to her hair. “I’m so damn proud of you, Bay. It took a helluva lot of courage to tell me.” Gabe stroked her dampened back, feeling her beginning to lose the tension she’d held so long.

“Oh, God, I feel so...so dirty and—and...” Bay’s voice trailed off and she turned her face into his shoulder. Humiliation flooded her. No amount of soap and water would wash away this feeling of being unclean. “Who would ever want me now?” She collapsed against him, a sob tearing out of her.

“Shhh,” Gabe rasped unsteadily, his eyes filling with tears. “Let’s take this one minute, one hour at a time, baby.” Struggling to contain his violent grief over how badly injured she really was, Gabe whispered against her ear, “Listen to me, Bay. I won’t ever leave you. You got that? I’m here. I won’t walk away and leave you, so stop thinking that way. A rape can’t define who you are. Don’t let it....”

Gabe’s low, broken words were a balm. It stunned her that Gabe wasn’t repulsed. He was a friend. But what an incredibly strong and steady friend even in the worst hours of her life. Bay reached out and gripped his upper arm, feeling his corded muscles leap beneath her fingertips. “Just let me get my feet under me, Gabe. I know you can’t stay here forever. You have to get back to being a SEAL.” Bay closed her eyes, nestling her brow against his neck. “I’ll get better. I promise....”

Her words tore Gabe apart in ways he could never have prepared himself to handle. Bay’s memories of them still hadn’t resurfaced. He was a friend. Not her lover. Not her fiancé. Now, she had the rape to contend with.

He held Bay tenderly and never wanted to let her go. Never... Gabe sensed the worst wasn’t over. The worst was just beginning....

* * *

T
HE
COOL
FALL
breeze blew more leaves from the surrounding trees. Gold, red and orange leaves tumbled and sailed through the air around the cabins. Gabe was out with a rake and plastic garbage can, gathering them up. From the kitchen window, Bay watched him work. His face was sweaty and hard-looking, focused on the task at hand. The sink felt cool and calming beneath her fingertips. The clouds above the mountain were fluffy, the sky a deep blue.

She couldn’t help watching Gabe. He was athletic, in top shape. Every morning, he ran five miles. When Gabe returned, he was soaked with sweat and then showered. Afterwards, she’d make breakfast for them. It was something Bay looked forward to, sitting with Gabe, losing herself in his burning green gaze, hungry for any touch he’d give her.

Sorrow moved through her. Ever since she’d told him about the rape, she’d felt Gabe retreat from her. Oh, it was nothing obvious. Just that she no longer felt his protectiveness around her. Maybe because she’d been violated. And yet, Gabe remained her friend. They had long talks at night in front of the fireplace in the living room. He cared for her, tried his best to always make her feel comfortable.

A frustrated sigh slipped from between Bay’s lips. Since that day she’d seen the wood man with the black beard, everything had subtly shifted between them. Gabe no longer slept at her side. He slept in the next bedroom. It was still a comfort to her that he left the door open between the rooms. For that, Bay was grateful. Her nights remained tortured. She refused to take sleep medication. The meds drugged her, suppressed her symptoms, and she hated what it did to her the next day. Bay would rather take the risk of being awakened by nightmares, instead. It was the lesser of two evils.

Sometimes, she would awake screaming. When that happened, she’d always find Gabe at her side, soothing her, whispering words of comfort, holding her until she could get her bearings. Bay felt like a useless weakling. Depression hung around her, dragging her down, making her feel even more exhausted, if that was possible. She finally was told that her counselor had been a rape crisis counselor all along. Bay didn’t hold it against her. She now had a solid understanding of what her brain was doing. It was withholding certain memories and then releasing them at some unknown point in the future. As the counselor said, the worst was over because she remembered her trauma. And by remembering, she could move forward and slowly continue to piece together her broken life.

Bay sensed she didn’t know all the trauma. She remembered the kidnapping by Khogani, the terrible days in the cave, but that was all. There was more, she knew it, but her brain refused to give it up yet. All Bay felt was overwhelming sadness and endless tears that came out of nowhere. Her heart ached. She wanted Gabe. Every time he came near her, she felt such a sweet rush of emotions toward him. Her heart pounded, but it wasn’t with fear. It was with need of him, his touch, his eyes warming as he met her gaze. She was starved for something more with him and was utterly frustrated as to what it was.

Poppy knocked on the door and called, “Helllooooo. Bay? Are you in there?”

Turning, Bay called, “Come in, Mama.”

Poppy smiled a hello as she walked into the kitchen. “Do you have time for a cup of coffee, honey? Or are you fixing dinner?”

“No, coffee sounds good, Mama. I’ve pretty much got everything ready to put in the oven for our supper.” Gabe had worked hard outside every day the past week, rarely coming in except for meals. He was avoiding her. Bay set to work fixing a fresh pot, her hands trembling as she did so.

Poppy sat down at the table, watching her. “Gabe told me what happened to you,” she said quietly, holding Bay’s blue gaze.

“I’m glad he did.” Bay grimaced. “I was going to, Mama, but I just found myself unable to speak of it again, to anyone. I’m sorry....” Bay took the cup and sipped the coffee, watching her mother’s reaction. Poppy nodded and reached over and patted her hand.

“Sometimes, life throws us curves, honey.” She peered into her daughter’s shadowed eyes. “I know you didn’t volunteer for that top secret operation and expect this to happen to you.”

“No, I didn’t.” Bay gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Does anyone?”

“No, but war is a terrible thing.”

“I know it, up front and close in ways I’ll never be able to forget, Mama.”

“Have any of your women friends from this operation group contacted you? Called you?”

Bay nodded. “Several have. It’s good to hear from them.” She moved her fingertip around on the table, tracing the horizontal grain of the wood in front of her. “They don’t know what happened, only that I took a hit.” Bay frowned. “I just can’t talk about it yet. I really hate going to the rape counselor right now. It hurts me too much. I need a time-out, some breathing space to try and heal.”

“Then tell your counselor that. I’m sure she’ll agree with you,” Poppy gruffly concurred. She saw grief in Bay’s eyes. “Why the sadness, honey?”

Mouth quirking, Bay sighed heavily. “It’s Gabe.”

Poppy’s brows flew up. “Oh?” Slowly turning the cup between her hands, Bay whispered unsteadily, “Mama, I’m falling in love with him.” She gave her a pained look. “I—I don’t know when it started.” Bay rubbed her aching brow and whispered, “He’s a friend. I remember him as a friend. He was kind to me when I was assigned to his SEAL team. He was my mentor.” She smiled a little, feeling anguish stir in her heart. “Gabe was so protective of me over there, Mama. Oh, he knew I could take care of myself, and I did. But he was always there. I knew I could count on him. I could trust him with my back. And he made me laugh.”

Bay smiled fondly. “Gabe is so incredibly funny. When I had to go get SEAL gear to wear at Bagram air base, he flew in with me.” Her mouth drew into a real smile. “You should have heard me squawking like an upset hen who had just laid a walloping egg when he wanted me to get a knife to wear. Have you ever seen one of those blades?”

“Yep, in fact, there’s one in your pa’s military trunk out in the shed. It’s a KA-BAR in a leather sheath,” Poppy said. “They issued one to every Marine. He kept his when he got out.”

“I didn’t know that....” Bay looked toward the ceiling for a moment, reining in her quixotic emotions. “Wait until Gabe hears this. He’ll howl,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “I was giving him
such
grief over at supply. I didn’t want to wear that hog. It was damn near as long as my lower leg, Mama.”

Poppy’s mouth stretched into a grin. “So, how’d he take it?”

“Oh, you’ve seen Gabe put on his game face, that tough, hard unreadable mask that silently tells you that it’s his way or the highway?”

“Yep.”

“That’s the look he gave me when I threw a tizzy about having to wear that gawdawful sword on my leg.”

Poppy grinned. “I’ll bet your pa is up in heaven right now laughing his socks off.”

Warmth moved through Bay. She deeply loved her mother because she could talk about any subject and not be afraid of her reaction to it. “I’ll bet he is, too.”

“Now, what about this falling in love with this young man? Can we talk more about that?”

Bay chewed on her lower lip. “Mama, I swear, I don’t know how it happened. I—I think it’s because I’m so screwed up. My emotions run like an elevator. One minute I’m up, the next, I’m down. I’ll cry over nothing. I’ll just start sobbing. I can’t control it.” Bay twisted her mouth and said in a strained tone, “Gabe has been there for me from the beginning. He’s been my rock, Mama. I honestly don’t know what I’d have done if he hadn’t been there at both hospitals with me. In my heart—” and she touched her chest “—I’ve been slowly falling in love with him.”

“And is this a two-way street?”

“No...”

Poppy grimaced. “Honey, you know when a person gets really hurt, it takes them a while to sort everything out. Right now, you’re in the middle of a thunderstorm, and it’s pouring rain so hard you can’t see a foot in front of your eyes, no matter which direction you turn and look. I think if this love is genuine, it will prove itself out over time.”

“Gabe’s hurting, too.” Bay rolled her eyes. “I mean, how would you like to be around a crybaby like me all the time? I wake up half the nights screaming, caught up in a nightmare. The rest of the time, I’m moody as hell. Sometimes I snap at Gabe. And I get angry, and I take it out on him.” Bay opened her hands, her voice breaking. “Mama, he doesn’t need this. Gabe doesn’t deserve it. He’s like a whipping post, and he just stoically absorbs whatever I dish out. He’s able to sort me out from what’s happened to me, if that makes any sense?”

Poppy nodded. “It does. But, honey, don’t you think if Gabe didn’t want to be here, he’d already have gone? He’s been at your side for almost three months straight now since you left the hospital. There has to be some underlying connection between the two of you. Don’t you think?”

Feeling weepy, Bay swallowed the tears. “I don’t know, Mama. Like you said, I’m an emotional thunderstorm. I never know from one minute to the next what my damned emotions will do. Sometimes, they whipsaw, and I’ve got to appear to be the most unbalanced, super-emotional woman Gabe has ever seen in his life, bar none.”

Poppy patted her daughter’s hand. “You’re doing the best you can, honey. Give Gabe some credit. He’s older and he’s mature. He’s seen a lot in his life. He does care for you. Certainly you know that?”

“I thought he did, Mama. But since last week...” Bay placed her hands over her face, afraid to say the words. Taking several deep breaths, Bay fought away the tears.

“What?” Poppy demanded.

“We had this connection...I’ve always felt his protection, Mama.” Bay lifted her face, her voice hushed with pain. “It’s gone since he knew I was raped.”

“What happened to you is enough to make a grown man cry. Don’t you think he’s going through his own hell knowing how much you’re hurting? You have to give him some space and time to adjust to it all. I know Gabe thinks he’s above being a mere human being because he’s a SEAL, but I think last week, he found out just how vulnerable he is to your trauma.”