“No, thanks.” He shrugged carelessly. “I’m heading back to the ranch.” His gaze briefly held Grace’s before he started toward the parking lot.
“Will I see you later?” Grace called after him.
Cliff turned and shook his head. “Another time perhaps.”
Will smiled despite his torn lip. Grace could tell exactly what he was thinking—he might not have her for himself, but he’d done what he could to keep her from Cliff.
Forty-Six
The phone call came when Bob was least prepared to deal with it. He was still shaky; the need for a drink lingered, as intense now as it had been in his first week of sobriety. All that held him together was his love for Peggy, his determination and his AA meetings.
The call let him know Colonel Stewart Samuels was on his way to Cedar Cove and would arrive within the hour. He’d made hotel reservations at the local Holiday Inn Express near the waterfront.
“Are you all right?” Peggy asked when Bob replaced the receiver.
He didn’t answer because he couldn’t. At first Bob felt numb, but once his blood started flowing again, he felt a deep sense of dread. He wanted this entire mess to vanish, to go away once and for all. This was what he’d feared since leaving Vietnam. Everything he’d struggled to forget, everything he’d hoped would remain forever buried, was about to be exposed. Never had he experienced such vulnerability. The sins of his past were about to tear his life apart. But not only his—Peggy’s too.
Two of his fellow soldiers were dead and that left him and Colonel Samuels. It was a distinct possibility that his life was at risk and that the other man could also be a target. He felt almost fatalistic about it; in a way he’d been expecting retribution for those killings in the jungle since the day it all happened.
By the time Bob returned to the States following his stint in Vietnam, he was already drinking heavily. When he married Peggy, he’d managed to keep away from alcohol for a while. But that control was short-lived and within months he’d found solace in having a few beers with his buddies after work. It hadn’t taken him long to progress to the hard stuff.
After Vietnam he’d vowed never to speak of that terrible day again. With one exception, he’d kept his word until recent events had made that impossible. He hadn’t found it easy dredging up those memories, voicing them. God help him, he’d like to forget Vietnam ever happened.
“Bob.” Peggy placed her hand on his arm, breaking into his thoughts.
“I’ll be fine,” he said hoarsely.
She continued to stare at him doubtfully. He’d never told her how close he’d come to having a drink that night or how her phone call had saved him. Bob didn’t consider himself an especially articulate man and certainly not a poetic one, but he thought of Peggy as his harbor, his place of safety.
“Stewart Samuels is on his way,” he said as casually as he could. “He’ll be here within the hour.”
Peggy stiffened.
Bob nodded and realized his wife was as ill-at-ease as he was himself. “When he arrives, I think it’d be best if the two of us talked privately.”
Peggy bit her lip. “I’ll put on a pot of coffee and make an excuse to leave.”
“I’d appreciate it.” He brought his arms around her and hugged her close. “I appreciate you.” Closing his eyes, Bob breathed in the scent of her hair and the light fragrance of her cologne. Peggy was his life; without her he was nothing. He only hoped she knew how deeply he loved her.
When the white rental car pulled off Cranberry Point and into their driveway, Bob’s stomach was twisted into knots. The man who stepped out from behind the wheel bore little resemblance to the officer Bob remembered. Samuels was tall and lean with salt-and-pepper hair cut in a close-cropped military style. Although he wasn’t in uniform, he moved in a manner that suggested a soldier’s discipline.
Bob walked out the front door to greet him. His heart felt like a sledgehammer pounding against his chest as he moved slowly toward the man he’d once known. The man who’d been his squad leader.
They met halfway and for a long moment stared at each other as if unsure of what to say. Finally Stewart Samuels extended his hand. “Hello, Beldon.”
Bob nodded and thrust out his own hand, replying formally. “Colonel Samuels. Welcome to Cedar Cove.”
“Thank you.”
Neither moved. Samuels broke eye contact first, glancing around at the large two-story house with its brilliant green lawn and flower beds vibrant with color. Peggy’s garden was still in bloom, her herbs scenting the air.
“I’m glad you came,” Bob said, although that was a patent lie. Samuels was the last person he wanted to see, but it was either face the truth now or regret it for the rest of his life.
Samuels laughed as if he recognized Bob’s words for the falsehood they were. “It’s time we figured out what’s going on here.”
Bob agreed as he led the other man into the house. “Past time.” He held open the screen door and let Samuels precede him. “Peggy’s got coffee on. I thought the two of us should talk privately.”
Samuels made no comment. As soon as they reached the kitchen, Bob introduced him to Peggy, who smiled graciously and welcomed him to their home. She poured their coffee and left.
Bob carried their coffee to the oak table in the breakfast nook. He stretched out his arms and cradled his mug with both hands. “The years have been good to you.”
Samuels sat across from him, facing the cove. “To you, too.”
“Things didn’t go so well with Dan,” Bob murmured, staring down at his coffee.
Samuels nodded, still gazing out at the water.
“And from what Hannah told us about Max, he didn’t fare much better.” So much had come to light recently; her life with her father had gradually been revealed, and it was a life that made Bob want to weep with pity. Every day Peggy seemed to have something more to tell him. Hannah continued to avoid Bob, but he now saw that he wasn’t the only one. Frightened and shy, the girl kept her distance from most men. He felt equally awkward with her, to a degree he didn’t really understand, but he made a greater effort to be tolerant.
“We’ve both had a lot of years to think about this. Time hasn’t made it any easier, has it?”
Bob shrugged. “I tried to forget. The bottle didn’t help. Without AA and my wife, I’d be dead by now.”
“How long have you been sober?”
“Twenty-one years.”
“Good.”
“How about you?” Bob asked. Each man had dealt with the tragedy in his own way. Bob had relied on alcohol, Dan had gone deep within himself and Max had drifted for years, never settling in one place or one job.
“Nothing I could say or do has the power to change what happened,” Samuels admitted. “I blamed myself. I was the one in charge, the one responsible. I couldn’t bring those villagers back from the dead, but I could dedicate my life to my country. I’ve served the military to the best of my ability.”
Bob slowly raised his eyes to study the other man. Looking at him closely he saw haggard features that revealed the torment of the years. His mouth thinned and he swallowed hard.
“I know what you mean,” Bob said quietly.
“I’m glad you suggested we talk, but for another reason.” Samuels paused long enough to sip his coffee. “After I learned about Max’s death, I decided to find out what I could. Two men dead within such a short time made me wonder whether you and I were at risk, too.”
Bob considered mentioning his own fears, but remained silent.
“I felt it was important to finally confront the past. I’d spent all these years living with what I’d done. I was up for a Congressional Committee appointment, and I knew that my background would be investigated. What I discovered shocked me and it’ll shock you.” He gazed out at the cove again. “The massacre was documented in the files of Army Intelligence.”
Bob’s mouth fell open. “How could it have been? We were alone—no one knew. Someone
talked?” Bob refused to believe it. Dan hadn’t, and he’d kept his own mouth shut all these years.
“No. A reconnaissance group was there, hidden in the jungle. Snipers had been deployed to the village because of reported Viet Cong activity.”
“Just a minute.” Bob held up his hand, stopping the other man. His mind was racing, and he actually felt dizzy. This was more than he could take in all at once. “Are you saying someone actually saw everything that happened and reported it?”
Samuels nodded. “A sniper and his lookout. And,” he added, “they’re both dead. One died later in a helicopter crash, and the other had a heart attack about five years ago.”
“The army knew all along what we’d done?”
Again the other man nodded. “As you can imagine, the authorities were eager to bury it as deep as possible, although the army’s Criminal Investigation Command had the details.” He still hadn’t looked at Bob but kept his eyes focused on the water view.
Still Bob didn’t fully comprehend everything Samuels was telling him. “The village was controlled by Viet Cong?”
Samuels forcefully expelled his breath. “In some ways I think it might’ve been better if I’d been killed that day. I’ve never forgotten what I did, or the sight of the women and children I murdered.”
“I haven’t forgotten, either,” Bob added, struggling to retain his composure.
Samuels brushed a hand over his face. “We were doomed the moment we set foot in that village.”
The murders of those men, women and children had shaped all four men forever afterward. They could no more go back into the jungle and alter the events of that long-ago afternoon than he could shrug off this load of shame and remorse. Knowing there’d be no official reprisals didn’t make any difference to how he felt. Bob sipped his coffee and let it moisten his dry mouth.
“For years I suffered from flashbacks,” Samuels confessed. “I was on antidepressants and sleeping pills. I didn’t sleep through an entire night for ten years after I got back from Nam.” He shrugged. “Often I still don’t.”
“For me it was nightmares,” Bob said.
They were both quiet for several minutes after that, and Bob thought about those other two men, the sniper and his lookout, and what they’d seen. They’d reported it to army intelligence but obviously had never gone to the press. Was that on orders? Or out of loyalty to soldier comrades? He wondered how that experience—and that secret—had affected them. Bob decided he couldn’t think about that anymore, not right now.
He broke the silence. “A friend of mine has a couple of questions regarding Russell. I’m hoping you wouldn’t mind talking to him.”
Samuels’s eyes narrowed, and Bob saw his hands clench. “Who is it?”
“A private investigator I hired shortly after Max died. For a while there, I was afraid I might somehow have been involved with his death.”
Samuels relaxed his hands. “If I can help, I will,” he said simply.
Bob knew Roy was counting on that.
Forty-Seven
“Rachel, phone! Line one,” Valerie shouted from the reception desk at Get Nailed.
Smiling apologetically at her client, Rachel reached behind her and grabbed the phone. “This is Rachel.”
“Rachel, it’s Nate.”
Instantly her heart flew into her throat and she blinked wildly, trying to stay calm. “Hi,” she said as casually as she could, but her voice was barely more than a whisper. They’d seen each other twice in the last month, at the same time she’d been seeing Bruce. She enjoyed Bruce’s company and adored Jolene, but he was more of a friend than a love interest. With Bruce she remained cautious; he seemed to enjoy their dates as much as she did, but there wasn’t any deep romance between them and they both knew it.
“Can I see you tonight?” Nate asked urgently.
Rachel frowned. “This isn’t a good time for me. Could we talk later?”
“It can’t wait. Word just came down that we’re shipping out.”
The aircraft carrier George Washington was leaving the Bremerton shipyard!
“When?”
“Soon. Listen, I know you told me you’re seeing this other guy.”
“It’s not that—”
“I’m involved with someone else, too, but I couldn’t leave without at least saying goodbye.”
Rachel closed her eyes, not knowing what to say. Before she could decide, her heart answered for her. “All right. When and where?”
He hesitated, and she leapt into the silence.
“Meet me at my place at seven, and we can figure it out then,” she said and immediately wanted to kick herself. Was she crazy? This man made her feel weak with longing every time he touched her. Now he was about to leave for what could easily be several months, and she’d just invited him to her home. Even as she spoke, she knew that once Nate was in her front door, neither of them would want to leave.
“Seven. I’ll be there,” he said, sounding relieved.
“Okay.” The line was disconnected.
Rachel’s co-workers knew something was up and started questioning her. When she told them Nate was being deployed, it seemed all the girls had advice they wanted to impart.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Jane said.
Rachel rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to bed with him, if that’s what you think.”
“It’s exactly what I think,” Terri said as she sidled up to Rachel’s station. “You’re nuts about this guy.”
“I don’t know what I feel,” she insisted, and it was true. Okay, there was a mutual physical attraction, but a relationship needed more than sex. If all she was looking for was physical, she could have it any night of the week. Even in this age of frightening consequences, she knew women who changed sexual partners as often as they changed their shoes. Rachel didn’t want casual sex; she wanted an emotional connection and a sense of genuine intimacy.
By the time she finished at the salon, Rachel was totally confused, torn between caution and wild desire. Her last appointment showed up late, so she didn’t get home to her small town house until almost six-thirty. The first thing she did was jump in the shower and then change clothes. Her hair was still wet when the doorbell rang. As quickly as she could, she added styling gel to her curls, ran her fingers through them and dashed to the door.
Nate stood there waiting. His eyes widened with appreciation when he saw her. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she said. “Come on in.” Before he could move, she held out a hand, stopping him. “Maybe that’s not such a good idea. What do you think?”
Nate grinned. “I’m thinking if I come inside, it could be dangerous.” He stared down at his feet and sighed. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know if I should be here, but I couldn’t stay away.”
Rachel had no answer to give him, but she silently rejoiced at his words.
His eyes held hers. “I’ve got a girlfriend back home. You know that.”
She nodded.
“You’re seeing that widower guy.”
“I am.” They’d been honest with each other from the beginning.
He continued to stand there, his eyes directly on hers.
“I’ll miss you when you go to sea,” she murmured.
“I’ll miss you too.” He jerked his fingers through his hair in a nervous gesture. “Listen, we could go to dinner if you want. Talk.”
“Sure.” He seemed as aware of the sexual energy between them as she was. It was best to avoid temptation, she told herself, but she could still enjoy an evening with him—which seemed like a reasonable compromise. “Let me put on a pair of shoes and get my sweater.”
“Okay.”
He waited by the door as Rachel hurried into her bedroom, got what she needed and returned a moment later. Locking up, she followed him out to his car.
They ate at the Taco Shack and fed each other pickled jalapeños. Nate was the only man she knew who liked food as spicy as she did. They laughed and talked and seemed
to have a million things to say to each other. The evening flew by and before Rachel realized it, the restaurant was closing.
“I guess I’d better take you home,” Nate said.
She reluctantly agreed. When she’d told him she was going to miss him, she hadn’t been flirting; she’d been telling the simple truth. They drove back to her place in silence.
“I’ll e-mail you, all right?”
“I don’t have a computer,” Rachel said. She’d never dated a guy in the navy before, so this was all new to her.
“Oh. That might make it difficult to stay in touch.” He was clearly disappointed.
“How long do you think you’ll be away?”
“No idea. The navy doesn’t let me help with the decision-making.”
She smiled at his sense of humor. They arrived at her house, and he pulled alongside the curb but kept the engine running.
They sat for a few minutes, neither speaking. “Rachel, I really enjoyed tonight. Every time I’m with you, I come away wanting to see you again and then I remember…”
She turned and pressed her finger to his lips. “Don’t say it.”
Nate hugged her, and leaned his forehead against hers.
“I’ve never wanted to kiss a woman more than I want to kiss you right now. I can’t, though, because I know what’ll happen next.”
Rachel knew it, too.
“But I don’t think I can stop myself.” Groaning, he closed his eyes, then gently, sweetly, touched his mouth to hers. His arms tightened around her and he sighed. Slowly he withdrew his lips from hers before their brief kiss could develop into anything more. “I’ll walk you to your door,” he said in a low, husky voice.
“You don’t need to. I can see myself in.”
“No,” he insisted. “My mother would have my head if I didn’t.”
“Okay.” He certainly wasn’t making this easy.
He held her hand as they walked to her door, which he unlocked. When he’d finished, he handed her back the keys.