both sweaty and ashen. The sound of his harsh breathing seemed to fill the room.
'Jeff? What's wrong?'
'Nothing. I'm fine.'
He was anything but. She nibbled on her lower lip, not sure what to do with him. She couldn't force him to talk nor could she physically make him relax. Not knowing what else to do, she left the light on, but slid back under the covers and snuggled close to him. She lay with her head on her pillow but her arm across his chest. She pressed her legs against his and waited.
Slowly he began to relax. His breathing evened out and his heated body cooled. While she'd slipped on a nightgown after they'd finished making love, Jeff was still naked. She ran her fingers through the hair on his chest, pausing when she felt a long, slender scar running the length of his rib cage.
'What is this from?'
'A knife fight.'
'Where'd you get it?'
' Afghanistan.'
She frowned. 'I don't remember us sending troops into…' Her voice trailed off. 'Oh. I guess I wasn't supposed to know.'
'No.'
She sighed. 'Jeff, was it like the dream you told me about before? The one where the village is burning and the people are running from you?'
'Yes.'
He wasn't being overly chatty. 'There's more to it, though, isn't there? You've had the dream before when I was with you and I don't remember you crying out.'
He half turned away.
She raised herself up on one elbow and touched his cheek. 'Jeff? You can tell me. I'm not afraid of you. If this is a privacy issue, that's one thing, but if it's about protecting me, I'll have to slap you.'
Her last comment made him turn back to her. He smiled slightly. 'Zane told me you were offended by all his 'girl' comments. I have to remember to inform him you don't take a lot of guff from anyone.'
'That's right. I've had natural childbirth. I know about suffering. I don't think you can say anything to shock me. So if you want to talk, I'm happy to listen.'
His smile faded and he closed his eyes. 'It was a different dream,' he said quietly. 'A visitation from the souls of the dead.'
At first she didn't understand what he was saying. And then she knew. The souls of the dead were from people he had killed. She settled back on the bed, resting her head on his shoulder.
'You were a soldier. You did what you were told.'
'Does that make it right?'
'I don't know. I do know that it doesn't make you a monster. Despite your ex-wife's claims to the contrary, you're not inhuman.'
He swallowed. 'Maggie was there. In my dream. She was screaming for me to save her and I couldn't. Every time I got close enough to reach her, she saw me and ran away.'
Ashley shuddered. She didn't want to hear any more. She didn't want to know what Jeff had suffered in the process of defending his country and doing his job. She wished there were a way to heal him.
'There's a psychological reason that Maggie has suddenly appeared in your dreams,' she said. 'You care about her and you want to keep her safe. I have a friend who has a recurring dream about losing a baby. Her kids are long grown and gone, but that doesn't ease the worrying.'
'Knowing that doesn't make it any less real in the dream.'
'I know.' She pressed a kiss to his shoulder. 'Jeff, I'm really willing to listen if you think it will help.'
He didn't answer. She continued to hold him close. Eventually his eyes fluttered shut and she thought he might have gone back to sleep. She hoped so. He needed his rest. But after a time, he started speaking.
'I can't tell you anything more,' he said. 'I would never do that. If you knew the truth, you'd never be able to close your eyes again.'
At first she didn't believe him, but then he turned to face her and she saw the truth of his words in his expression. She remembered all he'd talked about over the recent weekend. The lessons, the casually told stories. The professional attitude of a man who knows his subject. Suddenly she was cold. A shiver passed through her. She didn't want to know the horrors of his past.
Without meaning to, she recalled a lecture from the weekend. It had been about bombs and booby traps, and the damage they could do on the human body. Jeff's knowledge didn't come from a book; it came from experience. From watching people die. There had been so much horror and Jeff had been caught in the middle of it.
'I so want to make it better,' she breathed, and touched his cheek. 'Jeff, I don't know how.'
He took her hand and pressed his mouth to her palm. In that moment, every last doubt she'd ever had faded as if it had never been. She was more sure than ever that she loved him. She'd probably loved him from the first. It didn't matter how he felt about her, if he loved her or not. He owned her, heart and soul.
'Why are you crying?' he asked, his voice a whisper.
She sniffed. 'I didn't realize I was.'
He brushed tears from her face. 'Why?'
How could she explain? 'Hearing about your past makes me sad. I want to fix it and I can't.'
He collected more tears on his fingers then rubbed them against his thumb, as if testing if they were real. 'No one cries for me.'
She wasn't sure if he was telling her that no one was supposed to cry for him, or if no one ever had. 'I can't help it,' she said. 'I feel your pain.'
He frowned. 'But I'm not like everyone else.'
'I know.'
'So you're disappointed in me?'
She couldn't help smiling. 'No. I'm honored to know you. I'm honored to be a part of your life.'
He shook his head. 'I still don't understand the tears.'
'I'm crying because I care.'
Nearly a week later her words still didn't make sense. Jeff tapped his pen against the pad of paper in front of him. He had retreated to his study after dinner, supposedly to work. Instead all he could think about was Ashley and the strange conversation they'd had the previous Sunday night.
She'd cried because of him. He didn't understand that, nor did her saying she was crying because she cared make sense. As far as he could tell, nothing between them had changed. She was still sharing his bed, still trusting him with her daughter. He wanted to believe that everything was all right between them, but he wasn't sure. He had a sense of impending doom. He knew he was waiting for her to get angry and come after him.
Hadn't she gotten it? She'd spent the weekend with him, seeing him for what he was. If the lectures and demonstrations hadn't scared her away, his nightmares should have. Hell, he'd dreamed that Maggie was in danger, yet too afraid of him to allow him to rescue her. Didn't Ashley understand? Didn't she know that meant that when it really counted he was going to let her down?
He didn't want to. He would rather cut out his own heart than hurt either Ashley or Maggie, but he wasn't going to have a choice. He couldn't help himself. He wasn't like other men. He was-
The door to his study flew open. Ashley stepped inside and planted her hands on her hips. She glared at him.
Despite her obvious temper, he drank in the sight of her. She was beautiful, with her flashing eyes and flushed skin. Her sweater hugged her slender torso and her worn jeans outlined narrow hips. He couldn't help smiling when he saw the fluffy cow socks on her feet.
'Oh, sure, go ahead and laugh,' she announced. 'But you, mister, are in so much trouble.'
His humor faded as if it had never been. This was it. She knew the truth and she was leaving him.
He didn't speak. What was he supposed to say? He'd always known it was going to end like this.
