He couldn’t think of a single logical reason for Cynthia Myers to magically appear in the Fort Campbell food court. His tortured mind had just made her up in the wake of the lavender candles he could swear he still smelled.

After placing his order for a dinner box, he picked up his cup to take it to the drink station and heard the laughter again. Closing his eyes, steeling himself for the disappointment of turning and not seeing her, he shifted his gaze in that direction, the whole time telling himself not to look.

Cynthia sat at a table with three other women in pink and blue hospital scrubs. She had her hair pulled back into a messy bun and sunglasses perched on her head. How?

“Sir?”

Startled, he looked behind him. The cashier at the chicken place held out his bag. Mutely he took it, then walked over to Cynthia. She had a smile on her face and listened intently to the woman in front of her. But as he got close, she looked up and made eye contact with him. The smile slowly faded from her face, and she stood up.

“Hi,” she said on a breath. “Wow. Hi.”

The other women at the table fell silent and watched the two of them with the intense concentration of the audience at the final round of Wimbledon.

“Hello.” He didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t want to look away from her in case she disappeared, so he kept his eyes locked on hers.

Cynthia cleared her throat. “I look for you everywhere, so I shouldn’t be surprised to see you, but I am.”

“What?” He tore his gaze away from her long enough to take in the other women, to take in her scrubs again. She didn’t belong here, yet here she stood. Heart pounding furiously, he asked, “What are you doing here?”

She blinked as if processing his question. “Didn’t you get my voice mail?”

He shook his head.

Gesturing at his food and his shopping cart of bags, she asked, “Were you headed out?”

“I still have to hit the commissary.” He set his food in the toddler seat of the shopping cart. “But I’m leaving here.”

“I’ll, uh, walk out with you.” She picked up her food tray and turned to the other women. “Thanks for having lunch with me. Good work today. I’ll see you later.”

He didn’t want her to walk out with him, but he didn’t say so. They went out to the parking lot, and he mutely loaded his bags into the trunk of his car. She stood silently by, watching. When he put the last one in, he shut the trunk and said, “Well, it was great catching up.”

He started to walk away, but she said, “Rick, stop, please.”