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Lindsey snorted at the direction of her thoughts. Did she really think a big, tough war hero like Sergeant Chad Mitchell considered her a threat? Yep. So, either she had to assuage his fears about her intentions, or she had to find somewhere else to live.
“Do you want to eat in the cafeteria or pick up something on the way to the hotel?” Owen asked.
“What’s the cheapest?” Her running tally for the amount of money she owed him grew more overwhelming each day.
“Stop calculating what you owe me in your head,” he said.
How had he known she was doing exactly that?
“I want you to tell me what sounds good,” Owen said, “not worry about how much it costs. It’s my treat, okay?”
Lindsey nodded, but she couldn’t help feeling indebted to the man. She was indebted to him. “I have to pee again, so I’m most interested in finding the nearest bathroom. I can’t think about food until my eyeballs stop floating.”
Owen chuckled. “I’ll wait.”
“You think of where you want to eat while I’m gone. I’m not picky.”
“Fine. I’ll search what’s nearby on my phone.”
“And maybe you should call Caitlyn and tell her the news about the baby,” Lindsey suggested. “I’m sure she’ll be happy.” Even though part of her still hoped that Owen and Caitlyn’s relationship didn’t work out, Lindsey didn’t want to be the cause of their split. She carried enough guilt.
“I’ll tell her.”
Lindsey turned, looking for signs to point her to a bathroom, and spotted one halfway back up the hall they’d just walked. She must have been too distracted to notice it when they’d passed. In the bathroom she hurried into an open stall, not hearing the sounds of sniffling coming from the next stall until after she’d flushed the toilet. Her heart went out to the hidden woman. Lindsey knew what it was like to cry in a bathroom alone. And in a place like this? Bad news tended to be devastating news.
“Are you okay?” she asked the stranger.
The sniffling stopped, but the woman didn’t answer.
Lindsey dug through her purse and found the small packet of tissues she carried with her. She slid them under the side wall of the stall. “Here. Try these. That commercial toilet paper will chafe your nose.”
“Th-thank you.” A hand took the packet of tissues and a moment later a nose was blown daintily.
“No problem.” Lindsey suspected a lot of crying happened in hospital bathrooms. Especially when that hospital was one of the largest military hospitals in the United States. She unlocked her stall and went to the sink to wash her hands. The crying lady emerged from the stall next to Lindsey’s and Lindsey tried to give her the courtesy of privacy, but when she turned to grab a paper towel from the dispenser, there was no mistaking who the woman was.
“Oh,” Lindsey said to Josie, “hello again.”
Josie held out the packet of tissues—minus the couple she’d used. “Thanks for the Kleenex. I’m okay now.”
“No problem. I think Chad has tissues in his room if you need more.” Lindsey couldn’t help but wonder why she was in here crying. Maybe she didn’t want Chad to know she was upset, but of course she was upset. The man she loved and was going to marry had almost died. “I can’t imagine how relieved you must be.”
“Relieved?”
“That he’s alive. He’s here. That you can take him home and care for him and give him all the love and attention he needs while he heals.”
Josie lowered her gaze. “Yeah. Relieved. There’s a word. Excuse me.” She left the bathroom—without washing her hands, Lindsey couldn’t help but notice. Didn’t she realize that Chad was at risk for infection? She shouldn’t be touching him with dirty hands. Even if she hadn’t used the bathroom, she had touched the stall lock and the exit door. Maybe it wasn’t her place to tell Josie to wash her hands or at the very least use some hand sanitizer, but she was going to do it anyway. Josie was probably too upset to recognize the potential danger she posed to her wounded fiancé.
After using her elbow to push open the door so she didn’t dirty her own recently scrubbed hands—she might be a lot of things, but hypocrite wasn’t one of them—Lindsey looked down the hall toward Chad’s room. There was no sign of Josie. Had she sprinted? She glanced the other way and saw her walking in the wrong direction as fast as she could.
“Hey, Josie,” Lindsey called. “Chad’s room is that way!”
She must have not heard Lindsey because she only walked faster toward the elevator. Josie stopped short when she saw Owen standing near the elevator doors still waiting for Lindsey. He was oblivious to her presence as he was completely occupied by something on his phone screen. Josie clutched her dark, curly hair with both hands and after a quick look for an escape route, she rushed toward the stairwell, pushing through the door and disappearing. That had been weird. Where had Josie been going in such a hurry, and why had she freaked out when she’d seen Owen?
“I’m going to go check on Chad,” Lindsey called to Owen. “Be right back.”
She hurried to Chad’s room, knocking on the door even though it was wide open. “Sorry to bother you, but I just saw—” The look on his face stalled the words in her suddenly constricted throat.
He was staring down at something in the palm of his hand and his unbandaged cheek was wet. Was he crying?
“Chad?”
He lifted his head but didn’t acknowledge her. He swallowed hard and looked back down into his hand.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, taking a step closer and trying to see what in his hand had him looking so stunned. “Chad?”
“She . . .” He licked his lips and closed his hand into a fist before Lindsey could see what he was holding. “Left.”
“I’m sure she’ll be right back.” Lindsey stopped next to the bed and touched his shoulder.
He shook his head. “She left . . .” He squeezed his fist until his knuckles went white. “Me.”
“She must have had an important reason to—”
“Oh, she had a great reason.” Chad punched himself in what remained of his right leg so hard that Lindsey’s eyes watered. “This is her reason.”
That couldn’t possibly be right. What kind of horrible person would dump a war veteran for losing a leg? He hadn’t even been discharged from the hospital yet.
“This useless . . .” He punched his thigh again. “Worthless . . .” He lifted his fist to punch himself again, but Lindsey caught his wrist.
“Please don’t. You’ll hurt yourself.”
“I’ll hurt myself?” He laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. He turned his gaze to the ceiling and said to the fluorescent light overhead, “She’s worried that I’ll hurt myself.”
She reached out to touch his s
houlder. “I am worried.” And not just about his physical pain, but his emotional pain as well.
She expected him to push her hand away, but instead he leaned into her touch. She moved closer, her belly pressed against the side of the bed, and slid her hand along the top of his back. He curled into her, a great ragged breath sucking into his lungs and tugging at her heart. She stroked his shorn hair, the short strands like soft down beneath her fingertips. His arms slid around her back, and he hugged her so tight she could scarcely breathe, but she didn’t complain. She squeezed him tighter too. When his palm flattened against her lower spine, something slipped from his grasp and bounced off the floor with a quiet ping.
“I need to pull myself together,” he said, his breathing irregular and hot against her chest.
“When you’re ready,” she said, still smoothing his hair. She knew he didn’t like her and thought she was taking advantage of his family, so was surprised that he was clinging to her so tightly. She was happy to be there for him, though, even if she didn’t have much to offer. The baby, however, protested being squished between them by kicking a foot outward repeatedly.
Chad laughed—this time there was joy in the sound—and slid his hand from her back to her belly directly over the foot that was trying to kick him aside. “Someone else doesn’t like me much.”
At the sound of his deep voice, the kicking stopped. Chad looked up, his hand still on Lindsey’s stomach. Her heart thudded rapidly as she lifted a hand to his cheek. She knew she shouldn’t take advantage of the situation to touch him, but she couldn’t help herself. The tenderness she felt as her fingers glided over his stubble-roughened skin caught her off guard. Maybe because he looked a lot like Owen and his wonderful mother, it was easy to care about him. Or maybe it was because she could only marvel at how quickly he shoved devastation aside and found a way to smile again. But whatever it was about him that drew her, she couldn’t deny she felt something powerful for this man she’d just met. It wasn’t pity. Admiration? Was that what she was feeling as he held her gaze?
“The baby definitely likes you,” she said, her fingers tracing Chad’s strong jaw. “He responds to your voice.”
