One Man's War (22 page)

“Tess?”

Her eyes widened and her heart banged at the base of her throat as Pete called her through the bathroom door. “Yes?”

“You okay?”

“Y-yes.”

“Coming out?”

“I—yes...” Tess hesitantly opened the door.

Pete gave Tess a cajoling smile as she stood uncertainly before him. Her hair, damp and in need of a brushing, hung around her slumped shoulders. Still, she looked a hundred percent better. “Come on,” Pete coaxed in a whisper, and took her hand. “You need some food in that shrunken stomach of yours.” He slowly extended his hand, slid his fingers around hers and led her toward the table.

Tess felt bereft as he let go of her hand and pulled out the chair for her to sit down. Her stomach turned as she looked at the large amount of food in front of her. Pete sat opposite her, looking collegiate in his white shirt and Levi's.

“I can't eat....”

“Just some toast then,” Pete urged, buttering it and handing her half a slice. “Come on, honey...”

The husky tone of his voice overcame Tess's shame, and she took the toast. She didn't taste it, though. She was too wildly aware of Pete's powerful presence. After she'd had a third cup of coffee, he eased two aspirins in front of her.

Tess looked up.

“You've probably got a headache the size of Texas,” he said, baiting her.

A slight, trembly smile stretched the corners of her mouth as she picked up the aspirins. “Make that twice the size of Texas.”

Hope spiraled with joy in Pete when she rallied and tried to smile for him. He saw a glimmer of light in Tess's shadowed green eyes, and he wanted so badly to hold her, protecting her against the world that threatened her very existence.

“Alcohol helps anesthetize the pain we feel,” he told her as she took the aspirins with a gulp of water. “I know I was starting to drink heavily after every flight.” He showed her his shaking hands. “Thanks to Nam and combat,” he joked.

Tess stared at his long, well-shaped fingers. It hurt her to think how much pain combat had caused Pete. “I—yes, drinking helped—sometimes.” And then she stared down at the table. “I hate the taste of the stuff—and it didn't always help....”

Pete reached over and gripped Tess's hands in his. “You started drinking to drown out the nightmares?”

She nodded, refusing to look up at him. Just the quiet strength of his hands around hers stabilized her out-of-kilter world. “I don't know what happened, Pete.”

“Tell me about it, honey.”

Tess took in a ragged breath and fought the tears that surged to her eyes. “I'm so ashamed. I ran. And I know I've hurt a lot of people.”

“It's okay, Tess,” he sympathized. “We all run sometime. Look at me. I ran all my life until I found you.”

She sniffed and raised her head. “Some find.”

He grinned. “I'm not complaining.”

“You've got to be sorry you ever met me.”

“I'm the luckiest guy in the world, Tess.” Pete raised one of her hands and kissed the back of it. “I'm here, doesn't that prove something?”

With a nod, Tess closed her eyes. “Yes, it does. After I left you at Da Nang, my world fell apart. I became scared—confused. I—I just couldn't handle the job in D.C....all of this...society. I got terrible looks from people when I told them I'd been in Vietnam. The capital's torn apart over the war. A lot of people say we shouldn't be over there at all. I was caught in a crossfire between the hawks and the doves. A hippie couple started calling me names, and I couldn't believe it.”

Tess raised her head and she saw Pete's grim features. “No one understands, Pete. No one wants to know why I was there. They saw me as part of the war effort, and I wasn't! If I tried to explain it to them, they didn't want to listen!”

Pete's heart hurt for Tess. He gently released her hands, stood and came around the table. “Come on, let's go over to the couch, and I'll hold you, Tess. I want to hear the rest of your story.”

It was the easiest thing in the world to find herself in Pete's embrace again. Tess stopped believing that Pete wasn't really here, or that he wasn't genuine in wanting her back. She eased into his arms, lay her head on his shoulder and felt safe as never before. This time, it was easier to talk.

“I couldn't handle Washington, or the politics. I was lousy at my job. I couldn't keep my mind on what I was doing. I was always daydreaming about my villages. Those people were like my family—not a damned set of numbers on some stupid report. Then I'd get flashbacks of upsetting things I'd seen in Vietnam. I started getting really bad headaches and taking off half a day at a time. I couldn't sleep at night, reliving Vietnam and the things that had happened there.”

Tess sighed. “One morning I woke up and felt this terror working through me, like I had to escape. I felt as if I were literally suffocating, Pete. I couldn't control it, no matter what I did. I went to a doctor, and he put me on tranquilizers, but that only made my anxiety worse. I quit taking them. The terror overwhelmed me. I hopped the first flight I could and headed west. I felt like a trapped animal. I went to El Paso and tried to get a job—any job. I didn't want to go home to Gib in that state of mind. I knew he was still recovering from his leg injury, and he didn't need to deal with me in this crazy condition.

“In El Paso I'd hold a job for a few days, and then I'd get fired. It was like my mind was shorting out or something. I couldn't remember things; I couldn't keep track of time. And if someone came up behind me, I jumped six feet off the ground and screamed.” She felt his embrace tighten. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I got fired from three jobs in a row. I was ashamed. I couldn't understand what was happening to me, and neither did anyone else. They didn't want to.... I went to two doctors, and all they wanted to do was give me more tranquilizers. They tried to tell me it was all in my head or had something to do with my menstrual cycle. That made me angry. I ditched them and the prescriptions. The nightmares got worse. I kept dreaming about children I'd lost in the villages, or about them being kidnapped or—” Tess sobbed “—the ones that were killed stepping on those awful mines! I saw their faces floating in front of my closed eyes day and night. No one understood what was happening to me, and I didn't, either. I still don't.”

“Shh,” Pete soothed, kissing her damp hair and stroking her shoulder and arm, “it's going to be okay, honey. It's going to be okay. There's nothing wrong with you, nothing at all. You needed some special help and there was nothing out there. I'm sorry you've had to go through this hell alone. God, Tess, I love you so much it hurts. I hurt for you.”

Pete's words, soothing balm to her shattered world, sent wave after wave of strength through her. Tess clung to Pete for nearly an hour, content just to be held, protected and loved. Words were no longer necessary. His presence, his nearness, were all she needed. Gradually, the words
I love you
impinged upon her and Tess opened her eyes. Slowly, she disengaged from Pete's embrace. There was anguish in his azure eyes, and tears, too. With a shaking hand, Tess touched his damp cheek.

“H-how can you love someone like me? Look what I've become.”

Pete caressed her flushed cheek and held her wounded gaze. “Honey, in my heart, you've never changed. Yeah, you've got some problems, but so do I. You never gave up on me, did you?”

Tess shook her head.

He smiled tenderly and cupped her cheek. “I love the hell out of you, Tess Ramsey. These months apart haven't dimmed how I felt about you—they've strengthened my feelings. You didn't run from me when I was in trouble, and I'm not running from you now. We're in this together for the long haul.”

“I'm a shadow, a blight on your life,” Tess protested unsteadily, absorbing each shaky touch of his fingers against her cheek.

“You're wrong,” Pete said hoarsely, “you're not the shadow on the sun for me, Tess. You're my sunlight. My life...”

T
ess tried to prepare herself emotionally for her big brother's reaction as she stepped out of the rental car that Pete had parked in front of the Ramsey ranch house. She felt cold and wrapped her arms around herself even though the temperature was in the nineties, with the hot Texas sun beating down on them. Her heart beat faster, like a snared rabbit, when she saw Gib come limping out the back door, braced by a pair of crutches. She saw Dany emerge and move to his side, her eyes warm with welcome.

“Ready?” Pete whispered as he slid his arm around Tess's tense shoulders. He saw how distraught and pale she'd become as they neared the ranch. It had taken every last vestige of Tess's courage to agree to come home. Pete knew she was afraid Gib would be angry at her, but he'd told her that only love and care awaited her here at the ranch—the things she would need in order to heal. Tess trusted his evaluation of the situation, and Pete loved her fiercely for her trust in him and her decision to come home.

Mutely, Tess nodded, her gaze never leaving her brother's haggard, drawn features. Tears swam in her eyes as she approached Gib, and she ached for the pain she saw etched in his face as he limped forward. At his side, with tears shining in her eyes, was Dany. More than anything, Tess was overjoyed that they had married. Love, in her opinion, was the most healing emotion of all, and her brother and Dany deserved nothing but, in Tess's opinion.

“Hi, baby sis,” Gib rasped unsteadily, and he stopped and opened his arms to Tess. “Welcome home....”

Staggered by a deluge of hope clashing with fear, Tess left Pete's protective embrace and threw her arms around her brother. They clung to each other for long, silent moments. As Gib squeezed her, Tess realized that Pete had been right: coming home had been the right thing to do. Oh, why hadn't she realized that in the first place? As Gib held her fiercely, Tess began to understand how mixed up she was inside. No one in her right mind would run away from her brother's obvious love and devotion.

“God, am I ever glad you're home,” Gib said thickly as he eased away from Tess and gripped her shoulders.

“We were so worried for you,” Dany added, coming over and kissing both Tess's cheeks. Wiping tears from her eyes, she said, “Welcome home. Come on, we've got your room ready for you. Pete, would you like to take Tess to it?”

There were no dry eyes among them as Pete slipped his arm around Tess's waist and gave her a tender smile filled with love. Without any further words, they all went into the house—together.

* * *

Tess looked around her room. It was papered with a floral design, the wood trim painted in pale pink. White, frilly curtains framed the open window. She heard Pete put down her one piece of luggage and felt him approach.

As he came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, Tess leaned back against him. A ragged sigh broke from her lips.

“Looking around, this seems like some strange dream, as if this room belongs in some storybook world, not mine.”

He kissed her hair, haphazardly braided into one long, thick strand down the middle of her back. “It's still your world, Tess. You've got to rebuild emotionally before you'll know that. It'll take time, honey. Give yourself that time. One of these days you'll remember this room and you won't feel like a stranger in it. It will be a part of you again.”

Turning around, Tess found her way into Pete's embrace. “I feel so tired, so old....”

Pete understood what Tess meant. He felt that way on a daily basis. Although he hadn't known whether to attribute it to the stress of combat or not knowing where Tess was. “Vietnam ages everyone,” he agreed softly. He caressed her pale cheek. “Why don't you get a nap? The flight from El Paso, and the anxiety of coming home have drained you.” He curbed his worry, trying to keep his voice light for Tess's benefit. She nodded wearily and walked over to her single bed. A colorful pink, red and purple afghan her mother had made for her years before lay over the top of it. Tess remembered that when she'd been frightened as a child, she'd always curled up in that afghan and somehow felt safer—as if her mother's arms were around her, protecting her.

“Sleep as long as you want,” Pete urged.

Tess sat down and pushed off her sandals. “I'll probably wake up screaming and scare everyone to death if I do.”

“We'll handle it,” Pete assured her. “Gib gets his share of nightmares, too.”

“He does?”

Pete heard the hope in Tess's voice—that she wasn't alone in what she was experiencing. “That's right. So do I.” He managed a teasing smile to buoy her flagging spirits. “And if you do have a nightmare, I'll come in and hold you for as long as you want. Deal?”

Tess hung her head. How could she tell Pete how much his nearness meant to her newly won stability? “Y-yes, I'd like that.”

How badly he wanted to hold Tess. Pete fought the urge, realizing she was on emotional overload. Right now, she had enough to absorb without him adding his own selfish need of her. “I won't be far away, honey.” He forced himself to step away and move to the door. As he went out into the hall he said, “I'm leaving the door open—just in case.”

With a nod, Tess stretched out on the bed. Moments after she closed her eyes, she had spiraled into a deep, healing sleep.

* * *

Pete found Gib and Dany waiting anxiously for him in the den. Their grave features spoke of their worry. Dany poured Pete a glass of iced tea and they all sat down.

“How is she?” Gib asked hoarsely.

“She's going to take a nap,” Pete reassured them. “I know she's glad to be home.”

Gib shook his head. “She looks terrible, Pete. The weight she's lost—and her eyes...”

Dany gripped her husband's hand. “Darling, Tess is weary in the way we were after first coming out of Vietnam. Remember?”