“Sorry.” Aiden picked up his gun and glasses.
“Yeah, well, as long as you left some warm water in there.” He stepped back for Aiden to walk out, water squishing from his shoes. “Your lady went that way, toward the chow hall.”
The soldier slid into the shower. Aiden looked at the food tent, then toward the bunks where he and Lisabeth had side-by-side cots in a warehouse full of rescue workers. He didn’t even have to think twice about where he had to be right now to keep his sanity.
Aiden made tracks back toward the church, to the waiting patients.
***
Moonlight glinting off the rolling waves, Amelia rinsed her face and hands in the surf while Hugh constructed a lean-to for them to sleep under for the night. She’d offered to help, but he’d said he could work faster on his own if she would keep an eye on the kid.
Joshua was toddling in hyper circles in the sand, glad to be walking after a day constrained. Hugh had wrapped the child’s feet in leaves from banana trees to protect his soles. His diaper had been soaked, so she’d washed it and his tiny T-shirt in the ocean and draped them over a stretch of limestone to dry. There was something so endearingly innocent about a naked baby splashing in a little tide pool.
The day with Hugh had been so surreal—the fight in the van, the trek through the jungle, and now setting up a site for them to sleep together like some family on a camping trip. Except they weren’t a family. This wasn’t her child. Although right now he looked so heartbreakingly happy and perfect, her chest hurt over the dreams she’d once stored up about having babies.
Her eyes tracked back to Hugh. He spread foliage on top, mostly more banana leaves. He’d called the structure a hide site, designed more for evading than comfort, in case Oliver’s people decided to come after them.
Joshua toddled over to the small camp. Amelia pushed to her feet, her body creaking with exhaustion as she trudged across the sand. “Joshua? Come back here, sweetie.”
While Hugh had carried the child all day, there was no missing how uncomfortable he was around the boy.
Joshua clapped his hands, babbling and pointing.
Hugh frowned, reaching into a small pile of fruit he’d gathered. “Are you hungry? Banana? Is that what you want, kid?”
“B’ana?” Joshua tipped his head to the side, salt water still glinting off his dark hair from his tide pool bath. “No, no.”
He pointed to the mango.
“Yeah, right. Here.” Hugh peeled it with a knife, carved a slice and passed it to Joshua, so obviously careful to keep his distance.
She dropped down to sit beside them wearily and reached for the mango and knife to finish feeding Joshua. Hugh reached into his pocket and pulled out a fistful of plant stems. “Aloe. Just break each stem open and squeeze the liquid on your face. It’ll ease the burn. I’ve also got some bay geranium. It’s good for itching skin and even makes a decent tea. Let me know if you need it.”
“The aloe’s great. Thanks.” She snapped open the squishy stem and pinched the liquid onto her finger. She smeared it over Joshua’s cheeks before turning her attention to her own face. “You’re good at the whole shelter-building gig. After all we’ve been through, you’ve handled everything that’s come our way. You’re obviously in the right line of work. Was anyone else in your family in the military?”
“Not a one. I was a regular Middle America farm kid with dreams of traveling the world. I even got an appointment to the Air Force Academy…” His voice trailed off as he tossed aside a branch.
He’d been on the path to become an officer?
She passed another slice of mango to Joshua. “What happened?”
Hugh dropped to sit beside her, hands on his knees, watching the little guy eat, with eyes so full of… pain? “My girlfriend and I weren’t as careful as we should have been. We got married and became the parents of a beautiful baby girl.”
He said it so simply, so few words, but such a depth of emotion packed into each one. There could be no missing how very much he loved his family. And no married man with a love that deep had sex with another woman in a closet. Something had gone very wrong with his beloved family.
Waiting for him to talk seemed wisest, but her hands trembled as she offered the last of the fruit to Joshua. The little fella shook his head and crawled under the lean-to, testing out a stack of leaves in the corner. Amelia looked sideways quickly and realized Hugh was watching along with her.
“I had a daughter.”
Oh God. Please let this just be a divorce story, not what she feared was coming. “Had?”
“For five years… Then… She… They…” He swallowed hard, looking down.
But she didn’t need the words. She made her living reading the undercurrents in what people left unsaid. His wife and child had died somehow and the pain she saw in his eyes was beyond bearing.
She touched his foot lightly, uncertain how much comfort he would accept but unable to do nothing. How strange to know his body so intimately and his soul not at all.
Scraping a hand over his face, Hugh continued. “When my daughter was in preschool—about four years old—she woke us up one night in a panic because she’d forgotten to tell us she needed a rock for class.”