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He nodded. No use denying it. She’d seen it before. “Every night.”
“Even last night? At the hotel? I didn’t hear you.”
“I usually wake myself up before I yell. Learned to. My yelling in the middle of the night troubles Mary Alice.”
She sat up next to him and kiss
ed his cheek. A soft petal of a kiss. Enough to get his cock started, but now wasn’t the time. Not while blood and killing still warred within his mind.
“Tell me the nightmare.”
Four harmless words from the innocent mouth of his new wife. Of course, she had no way of knowing he’d never told another living soul the horrors that haunted his nights.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry I disturbed your sleep. If you’d be more comfortable, I’ll sleep in the front room from now on.”
“In the front room?” Ruth pulled the sheet up to cover her breasts.
Damn shame. They were lovely, indeed.
“Yes.”
“I won’t hear of any such thing. We’re married, Garth Mackenzie. For better or worse. That means we share a bedroom, and a bed.”
“I have this nightmare every night, Ruthie. Every night, do you understand? Every night since the war.”
“Oh.” She backed away a little.
He didn’t blame her. War was evil. As a woman, she couldn’t begin to comprehend what he’d seen, what he’d done. But she’d no doubt heard stories. Stories that made her blood curdle.
Her face softened then, and she smiled and touched his cheek. So innocent, but it burned straight to his groin.
“Please tell me. It might help.”
“I’ve never told anyone, Ruth. I can’t do that to you. It’s ugly.”
“I know. You forget I’m a scholar, Garth. I’ve studied the war. I haven’t lived it, and I’m not so ignorant to think studying and living are the same thing. I know they’re not. But I can handle it. I swear to you.”
“I don’t want you to have to.”
“For better or worse, Garth. I spoke the same words you did.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Oh.” She caressed his cheek and then his upper lip with the soft pad of her thumb. “I understand, now. This is why you’re…you.”
“Pardon?”
“Why you’re an island, Garth. You could be in a room full of people, and still you’d be alone.”
An island. Alone. He opened his mouth to argue, but she started to talk again.
Well, he’d known that about her. She liked to talk. Didn’t matter, anyway. She was right, and he damned well knew it. She was smart, his Ruthie. He wouldn’t be able to hide from her.
“You’re not alone anymore,” she said. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care what you did during the war. War is terrible. Men do things during war that they’d never think of doing otherwise. It’s survival, pure and simple. It’s human nature.”
Would she understand? Truly? Could she comprehend what Matthew’s death had cost him? Garth wasn’t sure, but nothing mattered anymore. Nothing except unburdening himself to his wife.
He took a deep breath, leaned back against the headboard, and closed his eyes.
