The Top Gun's Return

deployments, then cheerfully handing the reins back over to him when he came home. Something they all learned to deal with.

Only, she thought, I doubt very many wives ever had to adjust to a husband's return after a deployment of eight years.

'I guess that remains to be seen,' Tristan said. 'Has your driving improved any since I've been gone?'

'There's not a thing the matter with my driving, and never was,' Jessie said indignantly, punching him smartly on the arm.

'Ow!' He feigned outrage, then grinned at her, a ghost of his old self. And she grinned back, irrationally, idiotically delighted with that small, bantering exchange.

They had dinner in the privacy of Jessie's room again, pork chops and applesauce and corn bread stuffing this time, with cherry pie for dessert. More of Tristan's favorites, and he tried his best to do them justice, he really did, even though his appetite was still a long way from what it should have been.

'You trying to fatten me up?' he said in the teasing tone that had made her smile, rolling a cherry around on his tongue and marveling at the tart-sweet miracle of it.

'You bet I am,' she replied smugly, then paused to give the forkful of pie that had been on its way to her mouth a long, sad look. 'Only, I think the wrong one of us is gonna end up puttin' on weight.' She put the fork down on the plate with a sigh.

'You look great to me,' Tristan said, and saw her cheeks warm with a quick flush of pink. He went on looking at her, unable to take his eyes from her, remembering the times he'd watched that same flush creep across her chest, her breasts…her belly…and her whole body lush and blooming in the aftermath of lovemaking like a sun- drenched rose. Remembering what it had felt like to hold her, his body entwined with hers and her warmth soaking into his very bones.

He saw her looking back at him, cheeks glowing like Georgia peaches-remembering how she'd hated it when he'd said that to her…about the peaches. Long ago. And he thought, This is now-not long ago. She's here and she's real, not a memory, not imagination. My wife. I could be lying with her now, making love to her in that big bed, enjoying her warmth and her softness…

Then came the thought, No, Tristan, you couldn't. Because she may be real, but you're sure as hell not.

The truth was, though the thoughts, the memories, the desires were all there, they were only in his head. From the neck down he was just a tangle of muscle, bone and sinew, without warmth or feeling. Once upon a time he'd learned to survive by separating his mind from his body, and both of those from his emotions, and he'd been that way for so long, he didn't know how to start putting himself back together again.

He swallowed the bite of cherry pie and said, 'We should call Sammi June,' forcing the bittersweetness past the tightness of his throat. 'Think she'd be in about now?'

Jess put down her fork with a clatter, snatched up her napkin and dabbed at her lips with it as she twisted around to look at the clock on the nightstand. 'Um…lemme see, it's Monday…if she doesn't have a class she could be in her room studying. We can give it a try.'

He watched her make the call, standing beside her as she sat on the edge of the bed with her little pocket address book in one hand and the phone tucked between her jaw and shoulder. He watched her supple fingers punch in numbers, preparing himself, distancing himself from the remembered tug of a little girl's arms around his neck…the feel of a small grubby hand creeping into his. He listened to Jess's voice, speaking to someone in a thickening Southern accent, asking if Sammi June was there. He listened, preparing…arming himself with the images in the photo album Jess had given him, of a lovely young woman in a ball gown, smiling confidently, her tiara worn at a rakish tilt atop casually upswept blond hair.

'Hang on just a minute, hon',' Jess was saying, 'there's somebody here wants to talk to you.' With an abrupt, almost angry thrust, she handed the phone to Tris.

He took it calmly; his new crooked smile was fixed firmly to his lips as he put the receiver to his ear and said, 'Hello…Sammi June?'

'Daddy?' A high, breaking voice. A little girl's voice.

Something burst, stinging, inside his head. He croaked, 'Hey, baby girl…' Suddenly he was sitting on the edge of the bed with his elbows braced on his knees, head bowed, one hand shading his eyes. Dimly, thankfully, he heard Jess get up and go into the bathroom, as tears dropped from the end of his nose.

Chapter 5

Toddling along in the autobahn's slow lane at 100 kilometers per hour, Jessie flicked sideways glances alternately between the freshly plowed fields of the German landscape and Tris's silent profile. Reassured by the fact that he hadn't made any comments on her driving so far, she edged the Ford's speed up to 110 and settled back in the driver's seat.

'There, now-it's not so awful, is it?' she said lightly, flexing tense fingers on the steering wheel. She said it in a teasing way, but the truth was, she'd been a little annoyed by all the fuss over her driving, with herself more than with Tristan. It was true her driving had always given him fits, but that had been a long time ago. She'd been more than competent behind the wheel of a car for a good many years now, and there wasn't any reason in the world why she should start having doubts about her driving skills just because Tris happened to be sitting beside her. Okay, she'd never driven in a foreign country before, but as Lieutenant Commander Rees said, it wasn't as though this was England where they drove on the wrong side of the road. Interstate or autobahn, they both looked the same, and the signs were pretty much universal, so what was the big deal?

Why do I keep going back to where I was when I first met him? That was eighteen years ago. I'm not-I can't be that person now. It's not who I am.

'You're doin' okay.' Tristan glanced at her and a grin flickered. 'Long as you don't get us run over.'

'I'm doin' 110!'

'Kilometers, darlin'-that's sixty-six miles an hour. That'd get you a ticket for obstructing traffic in Atlanta.'

Jessie snorted. 'Oh, well-Atlanta drivers are crazy, you can't go by them.' She said it in a scoffing tone, but it was hard to hide a smile and a little shiver-of what, hopefulness? Encouragement? Optimism? It had been two days since the phone call to Sammi June, and although Tris still wouldn't stay the night with her, he seemed a little more like himself every day.

But he still hasn't kissed me.

Her heart gave a queer little bump at the thought. She glanced over at him, frowning, but he'd gone back to gazing out the window, silently watching the fields and billboards and the occasional town flash by.

The weather was holding fine and cool, and the sky was a clear and lovely blue between billows of puffy white clouds. It felt good to be out on the open highway, going somewhere together, just the two of them…almost like old times. Freedom, she thought, after the days of being confined to the guest house and the adjoining towns. And her throat tightened as she wondered what it must be like for Tristan, whose days since being rescued from an Iraqi prison had so far been spent almost entirely within the confines of a military hospital, in an unrelenting schedule of tests, therapies and debriefings.

She said softly, 'It must seem so strange to you. After…'

He jerked his gaze away from the window, giving her his familiar half smile. 'I was thinking how normal it feels.'

'Normal! How is that possible?'

He shrugged. 'I don't know, there was a period right at first when I was sort of in shock, I guess, when it didn't seem real. It was like it was a dream, and any minute I was going to wake up and I'd be back there… I think I was afraid to believe it. But then…your brain makes some kind of adjustment or something, and where you are, no matter how crazy or terrible or impossible it is, that becomes your norm. Your brain adapts to whatever your reality is.' He paused. 'That's what people do, I guess. They adapt.' His face darkened and he added, 'Some better than others, obviously.'

She held her breath, waiting for more, but he'd lapsed once again into silence, watching the world flash by the car windows.