So why, while sitting here cleaning weapons she abhorred, was he unable to get her off his mind? He needed to just dismiss her altogether. He’d gotten her back here. Safe. Alive. Mission accomplished.

When they finished cleaning their weapons and he inspected them, he left everyone logging onto computers to call or write home. Given the time zone differences, that would close out their day.

He went back to medical. Bill reclined on a mountain of pillows with his head back, eyes closed, and headphones on. Rick tapped his toe as he pulled the stool close to the bed.

“This was just getting to the good part,” Bill said, sliding the headphones off.

“What book are you listening to?”

“Murder mystery set in New York during World War II. Pretty good.” He looked at his screen. “Written by Violet Pearl. They have a nice library here. All ebooks and audiobooks, but that’s cool. Pot Pie brought me my phone out of my locker.”

“Doctor Myers told me you don’t want to go to Alabama.”

A shadow fell across Bill’s face. “Rick, don’t.”

“I’m not lecturing or ‘shoulding’ or anything. I’m letting you know that Colonel Jenkins is going to make sure you stay in Germany. Then when you’re medically released, you’ll come back here or hook up with us wherever we are.”

Relief filled his brown eyes, making them shine. “Appreciate it.”

Rick slapped his knee and stood. “You need to go home and visit your grandmother. How about I go with you next Christmas?”

Bill shook his head. “No way. Not Christmas. All the crazy comes out then. How about Easter? She leaves Meemaw alone at Easter so she won’t have to go to church.”

“It’s February. We won’t be home by Easter.”

Bill grinned. “Even better. Easter next year.”

“We’ll work something out.” Rick started out of the area and turned on his heel. “You good?”

His best friend tapped his chest. “I’m good, bro.”

Chapter
Fifteen

Cynthia secured a computer terminal inside the embassy. She could have done it at the hotel, but she liked being around the people here, so she stayed at the embassy even after checking on her patients. With data and electricity so precious in her village, she just stored emails to answer whenever she returned to civilization. Consequently, she had about five months of catching up to do.

For two hours she looked at pictures, read messages, replied. She smiled, laughed, cried with friends. It felt so good to get back in touch.

Her best friend, Dahlia, had sent a weekly email, telling Cynthia about her life and her toddler, Theo. Cynthia ran her fingers over the picture of his face on the screen, remembering the day she’d delivered him like it was yesterday. He had grown so much since she’d left!