“I’ll be fine,” she said in a reassuring, nurse’s voice.
“Stop,” he said, holding up his hand. “You’re only digging the hole deeper.” He tossed more salt over his other shoulder.
Nora laughed.
“Don’t laugh.” He handed her the saltshaker. “Do it.”
“I’m not tossing salt over my shoulder. Someone has to clean the mess hall.”
Rucker leaned close and shook salt over her shoulder. “I don’t know if it counts if someone else throws salt over your shoulder, but I figure you now need every bit of luck you can get.”
“You’re a fighter but afraid of a little bad luck.” Nora shook her head. “Those two things don’t seem to go together.”
“You’d be surprised how easily my guys are freaked by the littlest things.”
“And you,” she reminded him.
“You asking what could happen? isn’t a little thing. That’s in-your-face tempting fate.” Rucker was laying it on thick to keep her grinning, but deep down, he believed what he was saying. And it didn’t make a difference the amount of education he had or the statistics that predicted outcomes. His gut told him she’d just tempted fate with her statement. Maybe he was overthinking things. Now, he was worried she wouldn’t make it back to the States alive.
Nora liked Rucker. He was the first guy who’d walked away without an argument since she’d arrived at the base in Afghanistan. He’d meant what he’d said and proved it. His dark brown hair and deep green eyes, coupled with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, made him even more attractive. Not all the men were in as good a shape as Rucker. And he seemed to have a very determined attitude.
She hadn’t known what to expect when she’d deployed. Being the center of attention of almost every single male on the base hadn’t been one of her expectations. She’d only ever considered herself average in the looks department. But when the men outnumbered women by more than ten to one, she guessed average appearance moved up in the ranks.
“Where did you learn to play volleyball?” Rucker asked, changing the subject of her leaving and her flippant comment about what could happen in one week.
“I was on the volleyball team in high school. It got me a scholarship to a small university in my home state of Minnesota, where I got my Bachelor of Science degree in Nursing.”
“It takes someone special to be a nurse,” he stated. “Is that what you always wanted to be?”
She shook her head. “I wanted to be a firefighter when I was in high school.”
“What made you change your mind?”
She stared down at the coffee growing cold in her mug. “My mother was diagnosed with cancer when I was a senior in high school. I wanted to help but felt like I didn’t know enough to be of assistance.” She looked up. “She made it through chemo and radiation treatments and still came to all of my volleyball games. I thought she was in the clear.”
“She wasn’t?” Rucker asked, his tone low and gentle.
“She didn’t tell me any different. When I got the scholarship, I told her I wanted to stay close to home to be with her. She insisted I go and play volleyball for the university. I was pretty good and played for the first two years I was there. I quit the team in my third year to start the nursing program. I didn’t know there was anything wrong back home. I called every week to talk to Mom. She never let on that she was sick.” She forced a smile. “But you don’t want my sob story. You probably want to know what’s going on around here.”
He set his mug on the table. “If we were alone in a coffee bar back in the States, I’d reach across the table and take your hand.”
“Oh, please. Don’t do that.” She looked around the mess hall, half expecting someone might have overheard Rucker’s comment. “You’re enlisted. I’m an officer. That would get us into a whole lot of trouble.”
“Yeah, but we’re also two human beings. I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t feel empathy for you and want to provide comfort.”
She set her coffee cup on the table and laid her hands in her lap. “I’ll be satisfied with the thought. Thank you.”
“Doesn’t seem like enough. When did you find out your mother was sick?”
She swallowed the sadness that welled in her throat every time she remembered coming home to find out her mother had been keeping her illness from her. “It wasn’t until I went home for Christmas in my senior year that I realized she’d been lying to me for a while.” She laughed in lieu of sobbing. “I don’t care who they are, old people don’t always tell the truth.”
“How long had she been keeping her sickness from you?”
“She’d known the cancer had returned halfway through my junior year. I hadn’t gone home that summer because I’d been working hard to get my coursework and clinical hours in the nursing program. When I went home at Christmas…” Nora gulped. “She wasn’t the same person. She’d lost so much weight and looked twenty years older.”
“Did you stay home that last semester?” Rucker asked.
“Mom insisted I go back to school and finish what I’d started. Like your mother, she hadn’t gone to college. She wanted her only child to graduate. She was afraid that if I stayed home to take care of her, I wouldn’t finish my nursing degree.”
“I heard from a buddy of mine that those programs can be hard to get into,” he said. “I can see why she wouldn’t want you to drop everything in your life to take care of her.”
Nora gave him a watery smile. “That’s what she said. As soon as my last final was over, I returned to my hometown. I became her nurse. She lasted another three months before she slipped away.”
“That’s when you joined the Army?”
She shook her
