'Kyle?'
Damn, he was staring at her, something he hadn't meant to do. 'Uh… oh, I was going to draw Bell Rock, a red sandstone butte that sits out in the village of Oak Creek, near Sedona.' He got to work, carefully making an outline of the butte.
'You need to go home for a while.'
He shrugged. 'Well, sometime.'
Gale read between the lines. 'Sooner rather than later. Right?' She saw his mouth quirk. 'Kyle Anderson…?'
'Sometime,' he hedged. If Mike was dead, he wanted to remain here with Gale, to help her adjust.
She would need someone, since she had no close family. 'I'll get there soon enough. Maybe in the spring. It's no big deal, Gale.' He looked at her serious features. 'And quit looking like you're the Grinch that stole my Christmas. You didn't. I don't want to be anywhere else but here right now. Understand?'
She sat there for several minutes without saying anything and watched him painstakingly draw the red-orange butte. He'd cancelled his own holiday leave to be with her. There was so much sentimentality to Kyle, and so much he was sensitive about. Compressing her lips, Gale still refrained from saying anything, not wanting to spoil the liveliness of the mood he'd created for them. But someday, after Mike returned home, she was going to sit down and have a long, searching talk with Kyle, telling him how much she appreciated his care, his love, as a friend.
'Mike and I used to climb all over Bell Rock,' Kyle said quietly. 'It's got skirts around it, kind of like a layer cake, smooth and easy to climb over.'
Gale relaxed in the chair, watching him begin to color the formation. 'So, you were rock climbers, too.'
'Well now, Red Rock County is really hiking country. Bell is a hiking butte, not a true rock-climbing experience.'
Gale pulled another sheet of paper to her. 'I did a little hiking when I was out there last year. I really liked it.'
Kyle picked up the scissors and cut out the butte. 'So, what's your next decoration?'
'I'm going to draw my home in Medford, Oregon. I'll use a pear tree to symbolize it, though, because it's a huge valley with nothing but fruit orchards throughout it.'
His grin broadened. 'Want me to draw the partridge for it?'
She laughed long and deeply, wiping the tears from her eyes. 'You have a great sense of humor.'
'Thanks. I like the fact you have the good taste to appreciate it.' Kyle pointed to the tree she was drawing. 'Is that what you want to do? Go back home?' He knew her parents were dead, but that the house was still there, empty and in her name.
Hesitating, Gale looked at the tree with white blossoms. 'My enlistment's up in four months. I-I've given a lot of thought to it, Kyle. I'm going to leave the service.'
He frowned. 'But you've go a lot of time built up toward a twenty-year retirement pension. Why blow it now?'
She shrugged. 'I guess I want to have a home… a family.'
'Oh.'
She met his dark blue eyes. 'I'm tired, Kyle. Tired in a way I can't even begin to describe. I need time to get back to basics, back to things that give to me, not take.'
'A home and children?' In his opinion, Gale would make a wonderful mother, a spectacular wife.
'Yes. What about you?'
'Me?'
'Sure. Haven't you thought about having a family and kids someday?'
He nodded, trying to contain the pain that mushroomed unexpectedly in his chest. His dreams had been of Gale, of what might have been but would never be. 'Yeah… I suppose.' And then he made light of it. 'You know me, career-oriented all the way. I'll wait until I get my mandatory twenty in, and then hog-tie some good-looking woman who's willing put up with me and my eccentricities.'
Gale looked at the clock. It was time to plot the weather map. Rising, she gave him a serious look. 'You're far better marriage material than you think you are, Anderson.'
Laughing, Kyle sat there, watching her move to the plotting desk. Pulling another piece of paper to him, he glanced at his watch. Time was moving slowly. Didn't it always when something important was about to take place?
'How much longer?' Gale asked in a whisper, the question breaking the strained silence. She stood at the window of her base-housing home and stared out at the rainy morning. It was nearly 1000, and still no word from the Pentagon. In the distance, she could hear a bomber taking off, the jet engines creating man-made thunder that reverberated through the overcast sky. Her fingers tightened against the kitchen sink.
'We'll hear soon,' Kyle said, sitting at the table. There was a deathly waiting stillness in her home since he'd arrived from the B.O.Q. two hours ago. The tension in Gale's body was apparent.
Slowly, she turned around. Kyle was dressed in a long-sleeved blue-plaid shirt that made his eyes look even darker. Although he was sprawled out on the chair, nursing his third cup of coffee, his long legs stretched out beneath the cherry table, he didn't look relaxed. Searching his composed features, she asked, 'Do you think it means bad news if it's taking this long, Kyle?'
He sighed. 'They were bringing fifteen bodies back along with twelve POWs. I'm sure they're not releasing any word to the families of the survivors or the dead until they're absolutely sure of identification of everyone,' he muttered. 'That can take time. They don't want any mistakes.'
Gale bowed her head and wrapped her arms around herself because she was cold and shaking inside. 'That makes sense.' Gale forced a smile, fighting valiantly to look less worried. 'They said if Mike was alive, they'd be calling me…'
Gale and Kyle both knew that if Mike was dead, two Air Force officers would come to her house and give her the news in person. It was lousy duty telling the wife and children of a serviceman that he was dead.
The urge to get up, to go over and hold Gale was excruciating, but Kyle fought it. So far, she'd rallied and held her own-until now. 'We've got the tree in your front room,' he said quietly. He tried hard to keep his tone light, but found it nearly impossible.
She lifted her head. 'Does that guarantee a phone call instead of those guys coming to my door?'
'That's a roger.'
Turning to the sink, Gale began washing breakfast dishes. Kyle had eaten enough for two men; she hadn't been able to eat at all. The warm, soapy water took away some of the coldness that had been with her since she'd awakened that morning. There was such fear and anxiety pressing in on her, she couldn't shake it- not even with Kyle's caring presence.
Needing something-anything-to do, Kyle got up, collecting the garbage and putting it into a sack. Why the hell were those bastards waiting so long to call her? Why couldn't they let her know the instant the plane had landed if Mike was alive? Was he ill, badly injured? In the hospital? Dammit, they ought to be telling Gale instead of letting her twist in the wind like this!
Needing to calm his rage over the military officials' insensitive handling of the situation, Kyle took the garbage out to the cans that sat alongside the garage. Then he swept the walk, even though it was still raining. The rain was cooling to his anger and frustration.
Reentering the kitchen fifteen minutes later, he found Gale had finished with the dishes. The place was quiet. Maybe some music would help to dissolve the stillness. Shutting the door, he wiped his feet on the rug and put the broom to one side.
'KYLE!'
Tensing at Gale's tortured cry, he quickly strode across the kitchen to the living room. Gale was standing at the picture window, staring out, her hands pressed against her mouth.
'What?' Kyle said in a hoarse voice as he moved toward her, not understanding until he glimpsed two officers coming up the wet sidewalk toward the front door. 'No… ' he whispered, reaching out, gripping Gale's arm because she was weaving.
