Daniel jammed a pen and paper in her hands. "Make a list. You're great at details. There's plenty of crap Darcy and Max don't know about the kids that you didn't need to include on my lists."
What? He didn't think she could even handle climbing Mount Washmore? Being relegated to nonactive roles stung on a day where she'd taken a few too many hits. "I've already written everything out."
His hands landed on her shoulders, urging her to sit on the bed. "Do you have any freaking idea how pale you are?"
Yes, she did. The mirror didn't lie as well as she could. "It's been a helluva day. Maybe I'm a little shaky, but then, who wouldn't be?"
Slowly he shook his head. "What the hell else aren't you telling me? Why would your ex leave a medicine bottle in your bag? And you'd better come clean now because I don't want any more surprises knocking me on my ass for at least another twenty-four hours, if you don't mind."
Two fingers slid from her shoulders up to the bare skin of her neck. "No lies."
Mary Elise swallowed her anger. The last thing they needed was more sparks. She stared into his smoky-brown eyes and found plenty of anger … and concern. The guy genuinely thought there might be something wrong with her.
She'd pushed him far enough.
"I mean it when I say I'm fine, Daniel. I told you already that the bottle was linked to fertility drugs. I just have a … condition … called endometriosis. A chick thing, and you really don't need to hear all the details. I hadn't planned on this trip back to the States, and my meds are still in Rubistan. But it's not like I'm terminal. Women lived with this for centuries without any more medical help than herbs and a warmed brick."
"Well you look like hell."
Just what a girl wanted to hear from an old lover who was even hotter eleven years later. "I get a little achy." Understatement of the year, but hopefully she'd kept her pulse steady enough. "I'm a tad anemic, too, which is why I seem run-down to you. And thank you very much for letting me know I'm a hag. That makes me feel much better."
"Nice try with the diversion. Not working. Although later I'm going to want to hear what the hell the brick was for." He tapped her nose. "You know you're beautiful, so don't fish for compliments. Do you need a specialist or can any doctor take care of this?"
Beautiful?
"Mary Elise? I want an answer."
Oh. Yeah. She shook off silly vanity.
She had a specialist, but… "This can wait until we have everything settled."
His stubborn chin jutted. "A specialist or a regular doctor."
"A regular doctor can handle this, but Danny—"
"Fine." He wrenched the zipper on the green military-issue bag closed, then slid a laptop computer off the dresser to rest beside the suitcases. "We have to swing through base, anyway, to mask our tracks and make sure no one sees us trading the boys off to Wren and Spike. We'll check in with Kathleen while we're there. Now that I think about it, Bronco's TDY—temporary duty—to McChord for two weeks. We can swap out my truck for his SUV when we leave base. I can clear a tail even if McRae's got help, but changing cars wouldn't hurt."
Damn it, she understood he had more expertise in these things, but she wouldn't be relegated to a sick bed with her pen and paper. She could pitch in with something besides lists.
She respected that Danny was loading his gun and packing for the worst, but he didn't realize Kent would never fight the kind of head-to-head battle that Danny must excel at. "Do I get any say here?"
"No."
Frustration swelled. Built. She owed him, but why did he have to be so damned stubborn with the whole his-way-no-matter-what attitude?
The doorbell pealed once, twice.
Daniel backed one step at a time. "You won't be any help to me if you pass out."
He spun away on his boot heel.
Great. He got to be bossy and right. As if the hag comment wasn't bad enough, damn his cute departing ass in a wrinkled flight suit, he had to go Cro-Magnon on her.
She should be thanking him for fixing her mess of a life, not cursing him. Except rogue thoughts of the future kept teasing her with how much these boys would need a mother's softening influence long-term so their knuckles wouldn't drag the ground on occasion, as well.
Compressing the stack of clothes, Mary Elise tucked Trey's nebulizer, an extra inhaler and the rest of his asthma meds on top, and zipped the suitcase closed.
"Boys?" She crossed the hall and opened the door to find both children perched on the bottom bunk with Game Boys in hand. They'd been told about the change in plans, but with so much to assimilate in the past week, she wasn't sure they fully understood.