Page 73 of Keeping a Warrior

“Thanks,” she whispered. “I’ll never forget you.”

She let herself out and made her way toward the office, where she dropped off her key. Rhys was waiting for her right outside, and he handed her a cup of too-hot, too-strong coffee, which she took with a grateful smile.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

“Yep.” She told him about Ella, leaving out their main topic of conversation but saying how much fun she’d had going to dinner with her.

“I need more women in my life,” she said. “Women veterans, badass girls who’ve been through a lot of the same things I have.”

“Like having to pee outside?” His voice was teasing, his eyes warm in the predawn darkness.

“Among other things.” She reached out and took his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Hey, thanks for letting me sleep on the plane. And for being there when I woke up.”

Rhys squeezed her back. “Thanks for trusting me to be there when you woke up.”

Because he’d worked hard to earn her trust, with everything he said, with everything he did. That was the difference, and at that realization, a tiny piece of Devon’s heart knit back together.

They let go of each other as the other guys started emerging from the barracks, sleepy-eyed and grumbling. There was the sound of helicopter rotors in the distance, and a frisson of excitement mixed with fear spiked Devon’s heartbeat.

This was it.

There was no going back now.

Chapter Fourteen

Beauty. Poverty. Mountains. Dust.

The impressions swirled through Devon’s mind as she jumped out of the helicopter and ran to avoid the rotor wash. When the bird had clattered away, she shouldered her gear and followed her teammates toward the small American outpost—their new, temporary home.

Ringed by breathtaking ridges, the base lay in close proximity to a village of several thousand people. Huge sand-and-rock-filled bags made up the outpost perimeter, the entrance checkpoint manned by a squad of Marines.

In addition to the tactical operations center, there was a motor pool and a chow hall, and of course a well-appointed gym. The SEALs’ living quarters consisted of a plywood building divided up into individual rooms barely big enough for a bunk bed, a small desk and a locker. Devon was pleased to have the privacy, although she’d have to share the primitive shower and bathroom facilities with the guys.

She grimaced at the sight of the “toilet,” which was nothing more than a ceramic-coated hole in the flooring directly under the showerhead. In a corner of the room was a large plastic trash bag.

“Put your, um, used toilet paper in that, ma’am,” the young Marine giving her a tour said. “The pipes can’t handle it.”

Devon glanced at the bag, the hole, and then raised her eyebrow. “How do we flush? I don’t see a handle.”

The Marine shrugged. “When somebody showers, it’ll wash everything down, ma’am. That’s why no paper. If it gets backed up...”

“Got it,” she said hastily, not really needing the visual.

Back in her room, Devon tested the lock on the door. It was flimsy, like everything else about the building, but someone would still have to kick it in in order to gain entry. The noise and effort would give her plenty of time to arm herself. Satisfied, Devon set about unpacking her gear.

The top bunk was for storage, the locker for her weapons. Devon made her bed with some cheerful flowered sheets she’d brought with her and strung some Christmas lights along the wall. Her toiletries went into a shower caddy which she placed on the desk, and she hung her terry-cloth robe from a hook.

At last, propping her hands on her hips, Devon declared it home sweet home.

When there came a quiet knock on the door, she pulled it open to see Rhys leaning against the jamb. “Settling in okay?” he asked, scanning her minuscule space. “Wow, looks great.”

“Yep. Luxury at its finest.”

His face took on a sorrowful expression. “Much better than my place. Wanna see?”

The medical hooch was a few buildings down. It consisted of one large room divided by a curtain, which Rhys pulled back to reveal his cot, locker and a few shelves for toiletries. The outer area, where he’d see patients, was stacked with boxes of medical supplies.

Rhys heaved a long-suffering sigh. “It’s gonna take hours to unpack.”