The doorbell rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
Kyle cursed beneath his breath, feeling Gale tremble badly. He looked down and winced. Her eyes were dark and narrowed with pain, with denial. 'I'll answer it,' he said unsteadily.
Gale stood there, her knees watery, watching as Kyle opened the door. Her world exploded as the two men, both somber faced, told her what she already knew: Mike was dead.
She barely heard their apology and their heartfelt condolences. All she could do was stare at Kyle's ravaged features. There were tears in his eyes, and his mouth was pulled into a terrible line of anguish.
Gale was looking faint. Kyle turned to the senior officer.
'I'll get in touch with you on funeral details in about an hour, Captain.'
'Yes, sir, Major. I'm sorry, sir…'
His attention on Gale, Kyle cleared his throat and said, 'We all are. Thanks.'
'Yes, sir. Goodbye, sir.' The officers turned and left.
Shutting the door quietly, Kyle turned to Gale. She looked small and broken standing there in the middle of the large room, her shoulders slumped, eyes filled with terrible reality.
'Gale?' His voice shook as he took the final steps to where she stood. Tears blurred his vision; her face danced before him.
'Mike's dead… '
Standing uncertainly, Kyle gave a jerky nod. 'Yeah… I'm sorry, so damn sorry, Gale-' He couldn't go on. Reaching out, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, holding her hard, as if to take away her pain, her loss.
The gray morning light filtered through the windows bracketed by beige drapes. Kyle felt the first genuine sob rip though Gale, her entire body convulsing. All he could do was hold her, rock her, murmur words, useless words, of apology, of comfort. But nothing was going to help her. His own pain at the loss of his best friend, someone he'd grown up with, shared his life with, was no less cutting.
They cried together, clinging to each other because nothing else made sense, nothing else existed except the huge walls of pain that battered their hearts.
Eventually, Kyle moved past his first wave of grief enough to think clearly. As he stood there, holding Gale, absorbing her soft, choking anguish, he looked ahead to the next few days. He knew Mike's body would have to be flown to Sedona. Mike's parents would want him buried there, Kyle was sure of that. He'd request emergency leave from his office and make sure Gale had someone to help her with all the details, the endless paperwork that he knew would come.
Sighing, he rested his jaw against her hair, and closed his eyes. Her pain was his pain. So much had been taken from Gale over the years. So much.
Opening his eyes, Kyle stared at the scraggly, leaning cardboard Christmas tree sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch. His gaze moved from the image of Mike to the Bell Rock decoration. Mike was going home. And they'd be going home with him.
His eyes filled with tears, momentarily blurring his vision. Blinking, Kyle shifted his gaze to the second branch, where Gale's pear tree hung. Next to it was the partridge he'd drawn. His arms tightened around her. He knew she'd leave the Air Force and go home to Medford. She would try to pick up the pieces of a life that had been stretched and tortured for five years.
Time… they both needed time to grieve for Mike, to remember him, to cherish all that was good about him and the ways he'd affected their lives.
Taking a deep, ragged breath, Kyle simply held Gale, listening to her sobs lessen with the passing minutes, the first storm of grief, of shock, now pas-ing. There would be many other cycles of tears to come, he was sure.
His gaze remained on the tree. Gale had fashioned a pot of daffodils. They were her favorite flower. She said she was going to plant them along the edge of the house in Medford, a sign of spring, of a new beginning.
Yes, there was a beginning for both of them. Kyle didn't look at his own needs right now. Being there for Gale and for Mike's parents was what was important right now. But he would never forget that pot of daffodils. Never.
Chapter Four
Kyle frowned, staring at the mass of paperwork on his desk. It was 0800, and he had all day to plow through it. What did it matter? He didn't have anything else to do over the Christmas holiday, so why not use the time to catch up on paperwork when the office was empty and quiet? December was a lousy month for him, he'd decided that a long time ago. The Air Force had ordered him from Griffiss to Blytheville two weeks ago, and he was still unpacking and trying to get situated at his new command. He'd called his folks, apologizing for not being able to come home as he'd planned. There was simply too much work to do here and the holidays were the only time he'd be able to get things in order before the responsibilities of squadron command rested squarely on his shoulders.
'Major?'
Scowling, Kyle looked up toward his sergeant, who stood at the entrance to his office. 'What is it, Dick- son?'
'A telegram just arrived for you, sir.' He brought it forward and placed it in Kyle's hand.
A telegram? Kyle nodded. 'Thanks, Dickson.'
'Yes, sir.' The door shut quietly.
The yellow envelope stared back at him. Who would send him a telegram? He turned it over and ripped it open, a sense of dread filling him. The only time someone got a telegram was when it was bad news. His heart started an uneven beat as he read the short message.
Kyle. Come Home. Gale.
His hand trembled as he looked at the address. Gale was in Sedona, staying with the Taylors. In the past year, they'd exchanged many letters and phone calls, staying in touch, helping to heal each other in so many ways since Mike's death. She had left the service as she'd planned, moved into her parents' home, and was trying to make a new life for herself.
A deep ache centered in his heart as he mulled over her request. The need to see her was excruciating. Looking around his new office, he grimaced. Stay and catch up on his new workload, or go home? There wasn't any question what he wanted to do. Gently tucking the telegram into the pocket of his light blue shirt, Kyle got up. As he reached for the phone to find out when the next flight left for Arizona, his throat constricted. Why was Gale there?
When the reservations operator answered, it took several seconds before Kyle could speak. He recalled the cardboard tree they'd fashioned together last year. A make-believe Christmas tree filled with dreams and prayers. Some had been answered, others hadn't. He cleared his throat, his voice off-key. 'Yes, I need a flight out to Flagstaff, Arizona, as soon as possible.'
His need for Gale, the new feelings tumbling through him, made him shaky and unsure. For so long he'd suppressed his feelings for her because they hadn't been right under the circumstances. Now she was a widow. Was she asking him home because he was her friend? Or because she felt similarly? Terribly unsure, Kyle closed his eyes and waited to learn the time of the earliest flight to Flagstaff.
Gale shifted from one booted foot to the other, waiting impatiently at the Flagstaff airport. The small jet from Phoenix had landed, and she knew Kyle was on board. Suddenly she felt an incredible deluge of joy as she saw him emerge from the plane parked out on the tarmac. He walked quickly toward the building, an overnight bag in one hand, a wardrobe bag in the other. Her heart beat shifted into triple time as her gaze swiftly moved to his face. The past year had deepened the lines, especially around his mouth. There were still remnants of pain there, if she was
