Sharon Sala - Don't Cry for Me

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.