“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said, angling past, checking her name tag, then remembering.
“No problem, sir,” answered Lieutenant Gable, the nurse from the school/hospital.
Another reminder of how he’d screwed up in not keeping a closer eye on Franco. He’d known the guy was more on edge than ever and hadn’t pulled him out of the field. Liam had weighed the risk to Franco against all the lives in danger here… and had chosen wrong.
After nearly twenty years of service, maybe it was time for him to call it quits. Liam had enlisted in the army at eighteen, become an Airborne Ranger medic, gotten his college degree, then switched service branches to become a PJ. Maybe his body was just past the point of being able to do this kind of work. Shit, it sucked getting old, and why the hell did nearing forty have to be considered old?
He tipped his head skyward, where life was crisper, cleaner, with only the clear blue, some puffy clouds and airplanes. He could almost feel the rush of plummeting out of the craft, arms wide as he hugged the air in free fall.
Too old?
Fuck that.
Stepping away from the C-17 as the load ramp raised, he scrubbed a hand over his bleary eyes, his hand coming back full of grime and sweat. He needed to haul ass over to the hooch to shower and sleep. But he was still too restless from the lack of information, too wired from the last rescue mission. He grabbed two water bottles from a relief station, drinking one in a long continuous swallow and then pouring the other over his head.
Since he knew from experience that sleep wasn’t going to come his way anytime soon, he let his feet carry him past his quarters to the cottage next door. Seeking out Rachel Flores was becoming more and more of a habit over the past days. They were pretty much on the same shift…
An excuse.
He hadn’t met a woman in a long time who intrigued him as much as she did. Who saw right through his bullshit. And who could stand toe-to-toe with him when life sucked ass at the worst level possible.
He knocked on the door, his knuckles raw and scabbed over even after wearing protective gloves on the job this week. Maybe he should go back to his place and clean up first—and maybe he should leave her alone to sleep.
Just as he started to turn, the door opened. He recognized one of the other dog handlers from her task-force team, a guy wearing a T-shirt with a fire department logo.
Before Liam could speak, the guy had already turned around to yell, “Rachel, it’s your air force buddy.”
So he’d become that obvious hanging around here, had he?
The fire department dude backed out of sight, making way for Rachel. She hovered in the doorway, wearing a fresh pair of khakis and a white tank top that fit her so damn well. She had two hairpins in the corner of her mouth, as she was in the process of pinning her long dark hair into a loose bundle on top of her head.
“Wanna take a walk?” he asked, already caring too much about her answer. “I know this great little joint that’s giving away free orange juice in the half-pint cartons. It’s pretty exclusive. I don’t want to brag or anything, but I’m pretty sure I can get us in.”
She studied him through narrowed eyes, assessing and obviously picking up on how much the crappy day weighed on him, because she nodded.
“Sure.” She plucked the two bobby pins out of her mouth and stuck them into her gathered-up hair. “Disco needs to crash for a while before we can go back out in the field.”
Liam eased back as Rachel stepped alongside him. They couldn’t walk far safely, but the two-block area where they were staying had become fairly secure even if the wind still carried the mourning voices of survivors calling out for lost family members.
He cupped her elbow and steered her around a parked backhoe. “Have you had lunch yet?”
While her stride was long and confident, she took two steps for every one of his. Her personality packed such a punch, he hadn’t realized how short she was until now. Probably not more than five foot three.
“Is it lunchtime already? I’ve lost track of my days and nights.” She looked up at him with serious brown eyes. “I’m sorry that couple didn’t have more information about your friends. They seemed relieved to know the woman and baby were with a trained serviceman.”
But for them to disappear? Someone had to have taken them or mugged them or God only knew what else, and Liam’s gut churned at the endless possibilities—none of them good.
Even someone as highly trained as Hugh could only fight off so many people at once. To think they could have been killed for a canteen of fresh water? A pair of boots? He’d seen that and far worse, when individuals became desperate.
“If that couple wants to feel better because Hugh has some specialty skills, then I’m sure not going to burst their hopeful bubble. Life will do that soon enough.”
“Sadly, you’re all too correct.”
They walked together in a strange kind of companionable silence, given the world around them. The landscape had changed somewhat. Less dust. More volunteers erected temporary housing, hammers and saws echoing while dump trucks hauled away debris from fallen structures. Engineers worked on better water and sewage removal. Red Cross workers were everywhere.
The only thing that remained the same? The appalling scent of decaying bodies still drifting out of the remaining rubble.
What a strange feeling to hang out with a woman who actually understood his job, who had experienced a good bit of the same kinds of hell he’d seen. So, she would probably understand his need to leave it behind for a few minutes before they had to plunge themselves into the thick of it all over again.