Don't Cry for Me

Two

It had taken just under four hours for Quinn to reach Fort Campbell. Since it was the same hospital where he’d been sent after he was wounded and where he’d mustered out, he knew the base setup. He drove straight to the visitors’ center at Gate 4 to get a pass. Although he hadn’t been here in over three years, he had the weird feeling he’d never left.

The feeling persisted as he drove through the base, and the closer he got to Blanchfield Hospital, the more his anxiety grew. By the time he pulled into the parking lot the skin on his body felt tight and hot. He resented the anxiety. It made him feel weak, and weak was not an option. This was about Conrad, not him.

He got out of the car, checked the bed in the back one more time, making sure nothing had shifted out of place, and then made a call to Conrad’s doctor to let him know he was there. The doctor answered on the third ring.

“Dr. Franks.”

“Hello, Dr. Franks, this is Quinn Walker. I spoke to you a couple of days ago about having one of your patients, a Corporal Conrad, released to my care?”

“Yes, yes, I remember.”

“I’m here on base and in the parking lot at Blanchfield. How do I go about getting Conrad signed out?”

“Hang on a sec, let me check,” Franks said, and put him on hold.

As Quinn was waiting, a van drove up and pulled into a handicap parking space across from where he was standing. A woman got out, then circled the van and opened the side door. He glanced up just as a platform slid out, lowering a man in his wheelchair. Quinn’s gut knotted, and then he looked away, feeling guilty for being thankful that wasn’t him.

When Franks came back on the line, Quinn’s focus shifted.

“Mr. Walker, are you still there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I remember you telling me you’d been a patient here before. Do you remember where Physical Therapy is located?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Conrad is there now. I’ll meet me you in PT in about fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll be there.”

Quinn dropped his phone in his pocket and headed into the hospital. Now that he was here, he was anxious to find out what he’d let himself in for.

He headed for the bank of elevators, refusing to make eye contact with the people in the lobby. When he got on the elevator, he quickly turned his back on the other occupants and stared at the door, waiting for it to open. It was as if the past three years had never happened and he was still on crutches, with healing burns and scars that screamed Look at me! He was startled not only by the anxiety that he felt but also the insecurity. This hospital was not a good place to be.

When he entered the physical therapy area, he was even more hesitant, eyeing the patients in various stages of rehabilitation. As he began scanning the room, looking for Conrad, he heard someone cursing.

Quinn smiled. He’d just found his comrade.

* * *

“Damn, damn, damn, that effing hurts!”

The physical therapist eyed the frown on his patient’s face. They had been working at this one exercise for nearly fifteen minutes and he knew Conrad was tired, but it took pain to get progress, and so he kept pushing, urging the wounded vet up and down a set of steps to stretch and strengthen the injured leg muscles.

“You know and I know that’s how you get better, so try again, okay?” the therapist said.

“Hell no, I’m not going to try. I’m going to do it!”

“Hey, Conrad, how’s it going?”

Mariah Conrad froze. That was a voice straight out of her past, a voice she’d never thought she would hear again. She looked over her shoulder, and then her heart skipped a beat.

“Oh, my God.”

Quinn grinned. “It has been a while, but I thought you would at least remember my name. It’s not God, it’s Quinn.”

Mariah blinked. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to get you.”

The physical therapist smiled at Mariah and patted her on the back.

“Since you have a visitor, we’ll call this session over. Just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll take you back to your room.”

Mariah nodded but couldn’t quit staring. A muscle in her leg was beginning to knot. She needed to sit down or move, but she couldn’t think past looking at Quinn’s face. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been so bloody and burned she’d been scared he wouldn’t make it, and when she’d never heard from him again, she had finally allowed herself to accept that he was out of her life. Then she remembered what he’d just said.

“You came to get me? What are you talking about?”

Quinn saw panic in her eyes and realized he hadn’t considered the possibility she would refuse him.

“I heard they were going to release you and thought you might like to spend a little R & R in the mountains with me.”

Mariah grabbed on to the step rails with both hands and then sat down to keep from falling.

“In the mountains—with a hillbilly?”

Quinn grinned. “Yeah, with a hillbilly.”

A surge of emotions ran through her. Without family to turn to, she’d been in something of a panic, wondering what was going to happen to her when they kicked her out of Blanchfield. Quinn was a godsend, but she was a long way from the woman she’d been and felt obligated to warn him.

“Are you sure? I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into. I’m a wreck. My honorable discharge just went through. I’m so screwed up the army doesn’t want me anymore.”

“That’s okay. I want you.”

She looked anxious, which was an emotion he never would have associated with her. The Conrad he’d fallen for had been a first-class grunt with a daredevil gene. Over the two years he’d known her, they’d made love in every isolated place they could find between Iran and Afghanistan. War had definitely kicked her butt, but he had to believe she was still in there. All she needed was peace and time to find her way back.

“Are you sure?” she asked again.

“I know exactly what I’m asking for. I’ve already cleared it with your doctor. Now it’s up to you. Are you going to come?”

She blinked back tears. “Yes.”

“Aces.”

She looked up. “Here comes my doctor.”

“Hey, Mariah. How’s it going?” Dr. Franks asked, and then eyed Quinn. “Mr. Walker?”

“Quinn, and yes, sir.”

Franks put a hand on Mariah’s shoulder. “Are you in agreement with being released to this man’s care?”

Mariah frowned. “In his care? What does that mean? I’m ready to be released on my own. I’m just going with him, right?”

Franks smiled. “Sorry. Poor choice of words.”

“Just so we understand each other,” Mariah muttered.

The doctor eyed Quinn. “Are you sure you’re ready for all that attitude?”

The red flags on Mariah’s cheeks were something Quinn had seen before. “All that and then some,” he said.

“Then I suppose we need to get some paperwork signed so you can get on the road. I believe you have a ways to go to get home, isn’t that right?” Franks asked.

Mariah looked up at Quinn. “How far?”

“Does it matter?” he asked.

She started to argue, then caught herself. She had nowhere else to go. Her shoulders slumped.

“No.”

Quinn held out his hand. “Trust me?”

She turned loose of the railing and grabbed his hand.

“Yes.”

The doctor waved at an orderly. “Let’s get Conrad back to her room so she can pack.”

* * *

Two hours and a ream of paperwork later, Quinn was in the parking lot, tucking a pillow beneath Mariah’s injured leg and then another under her foot to keep it elevated during the ride.

She was wearing sweatpants and a loose, army-issue T-shirt that had seen better days. In bright daylight the healing scar from the head wound she’d suffered was easier to see through the short dark curls of hair.

“You okay in there?” he asked, as he pulled the covers up to her waist so she could reach them.

Mariah nodded. The quilt on which she was lying was thick and soft, and the pillows and blanket smelled like lavender. She reached for his hand, briefly clasping his fingers.

“Thank you.”

He nodded. “It’s good to see you,” he said, and then shut the hatch and pretended he didn’t know she was crying.

* * *

Mariah couldn’t believe this was happening. She had awakened again this morning with the same feeling of dread that had been with her for the past two weeks. The closer she got to a release date, the more panicked she’d become. She’d never had a family, and had grown up in foster homes in and around Lexington.

By the time she’d aged out of the system she was a street-smart eighteen-year-old with a chip on her shoulder. She’d wanted something more out of life than what she’d been dealt, but with no way to attain it, she’d joined the army. Even though the country was already at war, it had seemed like a good idea. She’d been fighting just to exist all her life. Surely she could fight a few more years for something bigger, and learn a trade at the same time. The decision was a combination of ignorance, näiveté and the best-laid plans.

Within six weeks of leaving basic training she was on her way to Afghanistan, and it didn’t take long for her to realize that enlisting wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had. Besides the ongoing war, she’d never been as hot in the summer or as cold in the winter as she was over there.

And then she’d met Quinn—a kindred soul with a daredevil heart—and fallen hard. The chemistry between them had been instantaneous, and they took advantage of every moment of downtime they could to be together, which usually meant having sex. She’d told herself it was just part of what was happening. No promises. No ties. She’d never meant to fall in love with him, but she had. After he’d been wounded, his absence left a huge hole in her life. She hadn’t expected to ever see him again, but his arrival today had been the answer to a prayer.

She was most worried about what he expected from her. At this point, it was all she could do to walk six feet without stumbling, and her head was a mess. Between the flashbacks and the memory loss, she wasn’t anywhere close to a functioning human, but dear God, she was grateful to him—as grateful as she’d ever been to anyone in her life. The only problem was that she was in no state of mind to resume their prior relationship, but she had been too big a coward to tell him that for fear he would change his mind.

Lying in the back of the SUV was far better than having to sit up for hours, and the pillows Quinn had shoved under her healing leg were lifesavers. The last thing she remembered was looking at the back of his head. Lulled by the motion of the car and the soft music from the radio playing in the front seat, she cried herself to sleep. Only when she felt the car slowing down did she begin to stir.

* * *

Mariah woke up and rolled over, but it wasn’t until she bumped against the back of the seat that she remembered where she was. She sat up gingerly, wincing when a muscle knotted in the back of her healing leg.

“You okay?” Quinn asked.

“I slept.”

He hid a grin. “I know. I’m stopping for gas. You’ll want to take a bathroom break here, because we have another two hours to go.”

“Okay.” She hesitated, then knew the sooner she got it said, the better. “You’ll have to help me into the store.”

“I know that, honey, and it’s no big deal to me, okay? If I hadn’t had my family to help me when I came home, I would have been in a world of hurt.”

The word family suddenly sank in. She began to wonder if she’d signed herself up to be staying in a house full of strangers.

“Do you still live with them?”

“Lord no,” Quinn said. “I have my own place up on Rebel Ridge.”

“What’s Rebel Ridge?”

“The name of the mountain where I grew up, remember?”

Her expression went blank. “No. I don’t. There’s a lot of things I don’t remember.”

Quinn glanced up in the rearview mirror. “But you remembered me, right?”

All she could see were his eyes looking back at her. “Yes, I remembered you.”

Their gazes briefly locked, and then his attention shifted as he turned off the highway into a large quick stop. He gassed up, then pulled up to the convenience mart and parked.

“Hang on and I’ll help you out,” he said.

Mariah ran her fingers through her hair and then rubbed the sleep from her eyes. It would feel good to stand up.

The hatch opened. Before she could think what to do, Quinn scooted her slippers onto her feet and then held out a hand.

“You move at your own speed. I’m just here to steady you, okay?”

“Yes.” She rolled over to the edge and then sat up.

Quinn grabbed on to her arm as she slid out, then locked the car.

“Ready when you are,” he said.

She took a deep breath and then a first step. Her body was stiff, but as soon as she began to move, it became easier.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Almost two in the afternoon. Are you hungry?”

She nodded.

“We’ll get something to eat before we leave here,” he said.

“I have some money,” Mariah said.

“That makes two of us, and we’ll be using mine,” he said, as he opened the door for her.

She gave him a look, which he ignored.

Quinn paused at the counter and asked the clerk, “Which way to the bathrooms?”

The clerk pointed.

Quinn slid his hand under Mariah’s elbow as they moved in that direction and then into the small hallway at the back of the store. Two doors faced each other. When Mariah tried to go into the women’s bathroom, she discovered that the door was locked.

“Somebody’s in there,” she said. “I’ll wait.”

Quinn reluctantly left her standing there as he went into the men’s room.

She leaned against the wall to take the weight off her bad leg and waited for the door to open. It didn’t take long for her to realize there was more than one person in there, and they seemed to be having a good time, which was weird. She could hear laughing and talking, and an occasional thud, like one of them had bumped against a wall. She’d had fun in a lot of places, but a Quick Mart bathroom wasn’t one of them.

A couple of minutes later Quinn came out, and when he saw that she was still leaning against the wall, he frowned.

“Are you still waiting?” he asked.

She nodded and rolled her eyes. “Sounds like a party going on in there.”

He moved toward the door, then stopped as if he’d just been punched.

“I smell smoke,” he muttered.

She nodded.

He leaned closer. “No. I smell pot.”

Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”

Suddenly he doubled up his fist and began pounding on the door.

“Police! Open up!”

The clerk up at the front jumped off his stool and ran to the end of the counter to see what was going on, while inside the bathroom the sounds of squeals and shrieks grew louder, followed by a sudden flushing and a lot of running water.

“Open up!” Quinn yelled again, pounding harder.

The door swung inward. Two teenage girls came stumbling out of the bathroom. They took one look at Quinn and then stopped.

“Hey. You don’t look like the police.”

“I lied, and smoking weed will rot your brains,” he muttered, and pulled them out of the doorway so Mariah could go inside.

She was struggling not to laugh as she shut and locked the door. The bathroom smelled like the back room of a bar she knew down in Lexington, but at least it was finally vacant. By the time she came out, the girls were long gone and Quinn was leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.

She grinned.

Quinn looked her up and down, then slowly smiled, like he was trying her on for size and had decided she was a fit.

“Corn dogs, burritos or overdone chicken strips are in the deli case,” he said.

She wrinkled her nose. “Do they have any cans of Vienna sausages in the grocery section?”

His smile widened. “Why yes, I believe they do. What would you like to go with them?”

“A dill pickle, crackers and a Pepsi.”

“I am so remembering why we clicked,” Quinn drawled.

Mariah rolled her eyes. “And all this time I thought it was about my boobs.”

He laughed out loud. “For that, you also get dessert.”

“A Butterfinger? I haven’t eaten a Butterfinger candy bar in forever.”

“You can have anything you want. Do you want to go back to the car to wait, or are you still okay?”

“I’m okay, but I’ll wait up at the counter and let you do the shopping.”

Quinn hesitated, then touched her cheek. “I am so sorry this has happened to you, but I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you again.”

Mariah shrugged. “Just wait until I come unglued on you, then see if you still feel the same.”

He frowned. “We’re all fucked, woman. It’s how we came back. Doesn’t mean I’m ready to quit living.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean you still have—”

He interrupted. “Let’s get our stuff and get back on the road. We can talk later.”

It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about himself any more than she wanted to admit what was going on inside her head.

Instead of making her worry, it was oddly reassuring.

“Don’t forget my pickle,” she said.

“I won’t,” he said, and then held out his hand. “I didn’t forget anything about you.”

Mariah took it gratefully to steady herself. “Everything I remember is in a jumble in my head.”

“It will get better,” Quinn said. “I promise. However, all you have to remember today is who you’re going home with, and that’s me. Let’s go get the grub so we can get back on the road.”

* * *

The remnants of their meal were in a sack between Mariah’s feet. She’d fallen asleep in the front seat with a half-eaten Butterfinger in her hand, pickle juice on the front of her shirt and tears on her face. A muscle jerked in his jaw as he shifted his gaze back to the road. He could imagine what was going through her head, but he couldn’t fix it. At this point all he could do was keep driving, because he wasn’t going to wake her.

The next time she woke up, Quinn was slowing down again. When he took a turn off the highway onto a two-lane blacktop road, she sat up, wincing as stiff muscles complained.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Pretty close to home. Welcome to Rebel Ridge,” he said.

Her eyes widened. “This is where you grew up?”

“Yeah. Are you okay? Do you want to lie down in the back again? This has been a hell of a ride for you today.”

“I’m okay.”

“We’ll be at my brother’s house in about fifteen minutes. You can stretch your legs and go to the bathroom there before we head up to my place.”

“How far is it to your place from there?”

“About an hour.”

Mariah looked up through the windshield, but all she could see was a winding road disappearing into the thickly growing trees. She was used to cities and people. Even when she’d been deployed, there were always lots of people around. This was definitely out of her comfort zone.

“This is a really big mountain, isn’t it?”

Quinn nodded. “It’s very quiet where I live. No sirens. No neighbors to hear me freak out in my sleep…just the critters and me.”

“Critters?”

“Raccoon, owls, deer and the occasional coyote, but nothing scary, honey.”