A shudder quivered through her, then echoed into another, continuing into a trembling akin to someone freezing to death in spite of the rapidly rising desert temperatures.
Screw distance. He gripped her upper arms, turned her toward him, not that she put up much resistance. She sagged against him, no tears, but still shaking with a grief that went beyond crying.
He rubbed soothing strokes over her back, murmured shushing and it's-okay platitudes that didn't mean shit, but since she wasn't pulling away he decided he must be doing something right. He tried to sort through the morning to figure out what must have...
Her sister's physical.
Damn.
How shortsighted of him to imagine finding Sydney would bring instant smiles and partying. Facing what her sister had been through must have been hell for Monica. It was hell for him right now and he didn't have the details.
But he could damn well imagine.
"She's pregnant, Jack. It happened here."
He hadn't expected that.
His hands stopped. Rage blindsided him faster than that missile. He'd been prepared to hear Sydney was raped, but... This was too much. "Ah, hell, Monica, I'm so damned sorry."
She didn't answer the obvious, just kept shaking in his arms while he held her tighter and absorbed the trembling. He wished he could soak up her pain, as well. Finally she stilled in his arms, limp against him, spent.
His chin rested on her head. Light hints of her aloe shampoo drifted through the air of sweat, dust and war. "Does Gardner know?"
"Yes, and he's okay with it. Well, as okay as anyone can be with what happened here," she said, her hot breath saturating through both his flight suit and T-shirt. "She's going to have the baby, maybe give it up for adoption."
"Do you want us to offer to raise it?"
Where had that come from? Somewhere deep. And hell if he wasn't surprised all over again. Although maybe he shouldn't be, considering Monica always inspired him to dig deeper even if he fell short of the mark sometimes.
She eased back to stare up at him with stunned wide green eyes. "Us?"
Well, she didn't have to look quite so damned surprised. "There is an us, you know. Unless all that talk earlier about loving me was bullshit."
Her shock melted with an irreverent snort. "You're such a romantic."
"Yeah, well..." He shrugged, his quota of sensitive stuff to say already depleted. "You know me."
Her hand snaked up from between them to caress his face. "Yes, I do and still you surprise me sometimes. Thank you for the beautiful offer."
"She's family."
Monica melted again, but in the good way that let him know he'd done something right. Three cheers for digging deep.
"God, Jack, how could you ever doubt yourself?"
Okay, now things were getting deeper than he was comfortable with standing on a flight line in the middle of a war zone with people milling willy-nilly everywhere.
He dropped a kiss on her forehead. "You need to head back inside. We'll be flying out soon."
Jack turned to guide her around and pulled up short for Colonel Cullen. How long had he been there?
The normally unflappable senior officer shuffled from one dusty boot to the other. "Is she okay?"
Monica stepped ahead of Jack to answer. "Sydney and the other hostages checked out fine physically. The emotional repercussions...well, those are out of my field."
"I, uh, meant your other sister." He planted both feet, his gruff tones echoed by his frown. "They slapped her around pretty hard during interrogation. I just wanted to be sure..."
Monica's curiosity must have been buried under doctor composure, because she didn't even blink. "I haven't evaluated Yasmine yet, sir. But I'll make sure to get word to you. How much longer do you think it will be before your people escort her over?"