Operation: Endurance (When the Mission Ends) (11 page)

BOOK: Operation: Endurance (When the Mission Ends)
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“We don’t mind,” Stephen said, “but are you okay? You don’t look so hot.”

She was suddenly struck by a sneezing fit, which made both guys back up a couple of steps. When it ended, she apologized. “Sorry. I think I may be coming down with something.”

Pete had finished his discussion with Toni and now he was the only one with the balls to get close to her germy self. “Do you need to go home? We can probably handle the class between the three of us.”

“No, I can’t leave. My contract with the hospital includes me teaching these classes, but I feel pretty crummy. So I think I’ll have a seat over here on the mats and let you all run the class tonight, if you really don’t mind.”

Pete’s eyes filled with concern. “No problem. We’ve got it handled. Relax.”

When Julie sat down, she started going over her lists for the wedding, trying to keep one eye on the progress of the class. The next thing she knew, Pete was waking her up.

“Pete?” Why was the gym empty? Where’d everyone go? “Is class over?”

“Yeah, you fell asleep about five minutes into it.” He laid a hand across her forehead. “That’s what I thought. You’re burning up. I told you that you couldn’t keep up this pace you’ve been maintaining.”

She shoved up off the mats. The room spun and she fought to remain upright.

Pete grabbed hold of her elbow to steady her.

“I’m fine. I’m just a little worn down. After a full night’s sleep, I’m sure I’ll feel better.”

He watched her skeptically as he shoved a small bottle of orange juice into her hand. “Here, drink this and then I’ll take you home. You need the vitamin C and the electrolytes.”

“That’s not necessary. I can get home by myself just fine.”

“I might believe that if I hadn’t just watched you spend the last hour passed out in the corner. I’ll get you home tonight and then if you’re feeling okay in the morning, I can bring you into work. I work the late shift tomorrow, so it’s no problem.”

Julie wanted to argue, but honestly, she just didn’t have the energy for it, so she just nodded meekly. “Okay, thanks, Pete.”

When they got into his truck, she asked, “Hey, did I hallucinate, or were you and Toni looking awfully cozy when I walked in tonight?”

He gave her a blinding smile with a full-on blast of those dimples. “She asked me out to dinner on Wednesday. I’m assuming I have you to thank for that?”

“Well, that depends. Did you say yes or no?”

“I said yes.”

She smiled and closed her eyes as she lay back against the headrest. Her head still pounded in rhythm to her heartbeat. “Okay, good. Just save me a dance at the wedding.”

She dozed off to the sound of his chuckle in the dark.

She woke up and was startled to find Pete leaning over her, kissing her forehead. She jerked her head back in surprise.

“Sorry,” he brushed her bangs back over her forehead, his eyes glittering in the dark of the cab of the truck. “I just wanted to make sure your fever wasn’t at a dangerous level.”

“You can tell that with your lips?” Her voice was scratchy from sleep.

“Yeah, actually I can. I’m a lot older than my brothers and sisters and was left taking care of them most of the time. We didn’t have a working thermometer. I got pretty good at gauging when they were getting too warm.”

“So, what’s the verdict then, doctor?”

He gave her a half-smile. “I think you’re probably sitting at about 101 degrees. I recommend lots of sleep and fluids. Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.”

 

 

Chapter 14

Chris hobbled into the hangar. His knee was killing him. The nightmares were particularly bad last night, so he’d run twice his normal distance this morning. If he was exhausted enough, he would sleep too deeply for dreams, right? Probably not, but at this point he was willing to try just about anything. He had to sleep to be able to fly and it had to happen without pain killers. Mad Rob needed him to get his shit together.

He was surprised to see Mick and one of the other mechanics standing and frowning into the open engine cowling of the De Havilland. He detoured over to them. Mick glanced up and refocused his frown onto Chris’s knee. Obviously, Chris needed to work harder to cover that limp.

Chris nodded toward the engine. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s leaking oil and we’re trying to trace where it’s coming from.”

“Colt and I were planning to take it up this afternoon. Should we reschedule?”

“Probably.” He turned his scowl toward Chris. “Besides it looks to me like you should be elevating that knee today.”

“The knee is fine,” he mumbled. “There’s probably just a change in weather coming so it’s flaring a bit.”


Hm-mmm.” Mick didn’t sound convinced. “I could have sworn they said on the news this morning we were supposed to stay in the mid-seventies all week and I’m not feeling my arthritis today.”

He didn’t like the knowing look in Mick’s eyes. “Well, maybe the barometer in my knee isn’t that accurate yet. Let us know when you think we’ll be able to take her up, okay?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Chris walked across the hangar floor, concentrating on keeping his pace level because he could feel Mick’s gaze boring into his back.

The flight did end up cancelled. They’d had to order in parts for the broken part on the De Havilland so, for now, they were temporarily grounded. Their other plane was at the service center getting repainted in their red, white, and black paint scheme to match the Mad Rob branding.

Chris managed to stay busy in the office for the rest of the day and was on his way out the door for home when Mick cornered him. The old man’s eyes were kind and understanding as he pressed a business card into Chris’s hand. “These guys understand. It would help to exorcise some of those demons hounding you if you talked about it with others who get it. The shrinks are good, but they can’t do it all. Talking to these guys would help.”

Chris glanced down at the card. It simply said,
PTSD SUPPORT
, with a listing of places, days, and times. Chris wasn’t so sure about sitting in a circle talking about his feelings. That just sounded like another form of torture for him.

Mick could obviously see the doubt on his face. “Give it a try. Go to one meeting and see if it does anything for you. It certainly can’t hurt and it could actually help.”

Chris gave a sharp nod. “Thanks, I’ll consider it.” He slid the card into his wallet and tried to ignore the roiling in his gut that came with thinking about anything to do with his captivity. He never wanted to go to that place in his mind ever again. Unfortunately, his subconscious wasn’t listening to that demand as it took him there every night through his dreams.

 

* * *

 

Chris was coming in from taking the trash out to the dumpster when he ran into a pitiful looking Julie with a wad of tissues stuffed against her face. It was a mild evening, but she wore a heavy sweater, was hauling around several binders, and looked like she’d been crying.

He immediately snagged the books out of her arms and took her keys from her to open her door. “Hey, what’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

She gave him a tired smile as she followed him into the house. “No, I just have this damn cold and my medicine ran out about forty-five minutes ago.”

He examined her as she dropped her purse on the table and heaved a deep breath through her mouth. Her nose was red and the dark circles under her eyes had become even more pronounced now that her complexion was so pale.

“Should you be working when you’re sick like this? Isn’t there some sort of hospital policy against spreading germs like that?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “It’s just a little cold. I’m fine. She walked over and snagged a glass out of the cabinet. She filled her glass with water and held up the package of cold medicine. “This will take effect in a few minutes and then I’ll be almost as good as new.”

He lifted a skeptical eyebrow at her.

“Besides, the wedding is in three days.” She motioned over to the binders he’d set on the table. “I don’t have time to be sick right now.”

“Okay, now that’s just stupid. You’re sick. Some of this,” he waved his hand over the mammoth pile of books, “can wait.” He ignored the dirty look she’d been giving him the moment he began talking.

“Did you just call me stupid?” She put her hands on her hips and glared, her hazel eyes shooting sparks, but that just made him notice how bloodshot they were.

“You need to go to bed. I’ll order some food while you get out of your scrubs and into some warm pj’s.” He waved a negligent hand at her body.

“Chris, I have things to do.” He could hear the exasperation in her voice, but he planned to ignore it. “Just because you live next door doesn’t mean you’re allowed to come in here and run my life. I was doing just fine all by myself before and I can continue to do so now. Go home.” She crossed the room and opened the front door for him.

“Not unless you promise me you’ll go to bed. You’re getting sick because you’re exhausted.” By the mulish set of her face, she wasn’t going to give in, but he could be stubborn too. “I’ll leave you alone, but I’m taking these with me.” He scooped the binders, including Cassie’s wedding binder, off the table.

She squealed, “Chris!” but wasn’t able to finish because a huge coughing fit racked her lungs.

When she finished coughing, he brushed a soft kiss across her forehead. “Go to bed. Get some sleep. I’ll give them back to you in the morning. I promise.”

“Okay.” She looked defeated and exhausted. “But only because I’m too tired to argue with you.” She shuffled down the hall to her bedroom and he let himself out, locking the door as he went.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, Chris sat on the phone talking to Cassie while he flipped through her wedding binder. “Honestly, Cassie, have you looked at this thing?”

She laughed low. “No, and I can’t believe you managed to get it away from her. Julie doesn’t let anyone touch her binders.” Her voice took on a concerned tone. “She must really be sick.”

“She says it’s just a cold, but she looks like she feels awful. She’s let herself get too run down. Cass, I don’t think that anything we do is helping. I don’t know what to do for her. She just seems so sad all the time. Even when she’s laughing and having a good time, that joy isn’t reaching her eyes. I hate seeing her like this.”

“I know. We all agree with you, but the grieving process takes time. It doesn’t help that Aaron was killed so brutally and unexpectedly.”

His gut still twisted with jealousy when he heard Aaron’s name. That was wrong on so many levels, but it’s just the way that it was. Aaron had had the girl he wanted and loved and now he was dead. It made Chris feel like the worst kind of guy to feel such writhing jealousy about him.

After a moment, Cassie said, “So, tell me about the binder. I’m tempted to come over there just so I can see it myself.”

“It’s incredible.” He flipped through it for a moment, marveling at her levels of organization. Was it wrong that he kept hoping to see some sort of ‘Chris’ doodle in the margins? Something to give him hope that he might have a chance with her again someday. “There are lists for everything. She even has the drinks broken down by person and how much she predicts they’ll consume off the open bar. By the way, did you realize that Jake’s Aunt Clara has a drinking problem?”

“What? Seriously? How would she even know that?”

“I have no idea, but I’m thinking some federal organization like the CIA or FBI needs Julie on their team. She thinks of and considers absolutely every detail. It’s a little scary about how incredibly thorough it is.”

“I think you may be exaggerating just a little bit.”

“I’m really not. She really should become a private investigator. I think she has a gift in sniffing out everyone’s secrets.” He considered how pale and exhausted she’d appeared earlier.
“But she is really sick right now. Honestly, Cass, how much more work does she need to do before the wedding is ready to go?”

“God, I don’t even know, Chris. See, this is where I’m an awful friend. I’ve just let her handle it all, especially with it being the end of the semester at Tech. I’m swamped with my students at work.”

Chris didn’t sleep any more than Julie did. There was no reason he couldn’t help her out. He was capable, right?

“Okay, I’m sure there’s a still-to-do list in here somewhere. Let me see what I can figure out and maybe I can lighten some of her load before the wedding.”

“Thanks, Chris.  I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Just be ready to look gorgeous when you walk down that aisle.”

“I love you, Chris.”

“Love you too, Cass.”

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Julie panicked when she discovered Cassie’s wedding binder was missing. She looked frantically around her kitchen before her gaze caught on Chris’s front door. Wait, Chris had been here last night. Her head cold had been so bad when she’d gotten home, she’d completely forgotten. That entire scene with him seemed like it had occurred through a fog.

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