Out of the Shadows (12 page)

* * *

A
T
FIRST
B
EN
was determined not to follow Leslie into the bedroom. He thought it best to leave her alone until he was in better control. The sound of multiple thuds alarmed him, though. Resigned, he went to investigate and paused at the doorway where he saw her sitting on the end of the small bed. Her head was bowed, and tears were dropping onto her lap.

He had to step over several books to reach her. Not knowing what else to do, he sat down beside her, carefully avoiding touching her. He looked at her hands and saw that she held a portrait of a young man. The man in the picture had dark blond hair and light blue eyes, and Ben was pounded by another wave of jealousy. But as he stared at the picture, the jealousy simply vanished, replaced by pity. Indeed, he was intensely sorry for the young man who had experienced so little time to be with this fantastic woman who so obviously adored him. He could not think of anything to say that wouldn’t sound trite, so he closed his eyes and waited.

After a time, Leslie’s tears were spent. She wiped her cheeks with one hand and looked down at the picture again. How could she have forgotten what Brian looked like? She knew his face as well as she knew her own. She smiled sadly at the portrait and smoothed it gently.

With reddened eyes, she turned to Ben and found that he was not watching her. Rather, he was leaning forward with his head resting in his hands and, as far as she could tell, his eyes were closed. He was so still, she wasn’t certain if he was awake.

Delicately, she reached out to him and touched his forearm. At once he looked up and searched her face. In her expression he saw sorrow, fatigue and something else—perhaps resignation.

Her throat was dry, and she had to swallow before she could talk. “I’m sorry. Ben, I’m sorry I threw myself at you like that. I just... I’m so sorry....”

Ben placed his hands on her shoulders and, leaning forward, gently kissed her on the forehead. With a voice that was deeper than usual he said, “Sweetheart, that’s the most uncalled-for apology I’ve ever received.” He managed a self-deprecating grin. “Contrary to prevailing rumors, it’s not every day I have a beautiful woman wanting me to hold her and kiss her. I can hardly complain.” He sat back and dropped his hands.

She blinked with embarrassment and looked away. “Leslie, don’t be ashamed. I can’t even begin to conceive of the pain you’ve experienced.” He took both of her hands in his. “But, Les, I do know a great deal about loneliness. I understand the ache of wanting to talk to someone, to be with someone, to hold someone. I was glad to be here with you tonight.”

She saw the sadness in his eyes and heard the honesty in his words. “Ben, thank you. You have helped so much. It was just because it’s the anniversary of...” She swallowed and blinked, trying to keep from crying again.

“Leslie, I truly do understand. There’s no need to explain.” He reached out and smoothed her hair. “Look, I’d really better be going. If you’re all right, that is.” He stood and watched her as he waited for an answer.

Leslie got to her feet. Biting her bottom lip, she stammered, “P-please, if you can stay a while longer. We can talk some more, or you can read. Anything.” She swallowed hard. “Ben, please. I don’t want to be alone tonight. I know it’s asking a lot, but...”

Ben regarded her with compassion, this time working hard to hide the depth of his love. Finally, he caught her small hand in his and brought it to his lips. “Look, you’re exhausted. Why don’t you go to bed? If you want me to stay, I can drag one of the exam cots onto the porch and sleep there.”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “But if you wake up before me in the morning, just don’t mistake me for a patient....”

She managed a little smile. “Thank you, Ben. That would be perfect.” They stood in silence for a few seconds. It took all of the self-control Ben had left to refrain from taking her in his arms again. Finally, he turned to leave. At the door he paused and looked back at her. Her face was red, and her eyes were swollen. Her hair was mussed and her clothing askew. She had never looked more beautiful to him.

He smiled and whispered, “Good night.” The door closed quietly behind him.

* * *

L
ESLIE
WOKE
EARLY
the next morning feeling surprisingly refreshed. She dressed, washed her face and braided her hair quickly, then went to the front of the house to wake Ben. She thought she would make breakfast for him to show her appreciation. But when she made her way through the clinic and saw that all the cots were in their normal places, she knew her plan would not happen. He had already gone.

CHAPTER TWELVE

T
ITUS
TURNED
THE
clinic’s ancient Jeep through the compound’s open gate and drove a hundred feet or so to Ben’s house. It was fortunate that he’d been there before, for although the house was fairly close to the airstrip, the road was isolated and difficult to find.

From the passenger seat, Leslie studied the small buildings. Ben’s house was built of rough boards painted tan, blending effectively with the surrounding savanna. There was no porch and little exterior adornment. Another small house, about the same size, was set to one side. Leslie assumed it was Simon’s place when he stayed with Ben. Two additional outbuildings were located behind the dwellings. Like the clinic, an eight-foot cinder-block wall with a heavy wrought-iron gate surrounded the compound. Unlike the clinic, razor wire was attached to the top of the fence, effectively keeping out thieves and miscreants.

It had been five days since Ben slipped out of the clinic in the early hours of the morning. Since then, Leslie had often found herself looking out the windows, hoping to see his Jeep. She spent considerable time each day recalling fragments of their conversations and trying to analyze his words and actions. And, when she was alone in bed at night and allowed her thoughts to drift, she remembered the feel of his arms as he held her. She remembered the strength and compassion it had taken him to back away. In the depth of the night, she was willing to admit that she wanted to see him again. She longed for more soft words, another embrace, another kiss.

Her musings left her confused and conflicted. She was unsure of his actions, emotions and motives—just as she was unsure of her own. She was certain that he found her attractive. But his reputation with women made her skeptical that his response was exclusively directed at her. What surprised her was that he had been the one to halt their passionate encounter.

In any regard, Leslie was puzzled and distressed when he didn’t come by. After the fourth day, she determined that she would go see him. In mental self-defense, she reminded herself that she did not want a relationship—she just wanted to thank him. But she knew that was self-delusion.

As an excuse, she decided to take him a small gift. With Judy’s help, she gathered the ingredients needed to make chocolate-chip cookies and baked them early in the morning, before the first patients arrived. To justify the timing of her visit, she decided to see an elderly woman she was treating. The woman lived in a tiny village several miles past the turnoff to the airfield and was not able to walk the distance to the clinic. Titus could drive her to see the patient and then stop by Ben’s compound on their way home. Leslie had carefully wrapped the plate of cookies in a towel and placed them in the backseat of the Jeep along with her supplies.

The house call lasted only an hour, and Titus drove into Ben’s small compound around four. Although the gate was open, Ben’s Jeep was missing and there was no sign of him or Simon. There were, however, two large brown dogs of no identifiable breed resting in the meager shade of a baobab tree. The dogs barked loudly at first, but they apparently recognized Titus and quickly quieted, returning to lie placidly in the shade.

“It looks like no one is home,” Leslie murmured. She tried to tamp down her disappointment. “But I’ll check to make sure.”

It was Titus’s habit to wait in the covered vehicle while Leslie made her house calls, so he remained seated as she climbed out of the Jeep, carefully balancing the cookies. Feeling foolish at the quivering in her stomach, she crossed the dirt path and knocked on the door.

* * *

B
EN
WAS
WASHING
at an aged porcelain sink when he heard a vehicle. He had just returned from several points along the coast and was in the process of removing the sweat and grime incurred during the three-day trip. Since the dogs had stopped barking and he was expecting Simon, he was surprised when someone knocked.

Hastily, he toweled his face and upper body and thrust his arms into a clean shirt. As he crossed to the door, he glanced out the window to see if he needed to arm himself—and was further surprised to see Titus sitting in Mama Joe’s rickety Jeep. His heart rate rose as he opened the door to find Leslie holding a plate covered by a lightweight towel.

The aroma of sugar and butter was lovely, as was the appearance of the young nurse. She was neatly dressed in her normal attire: a khaki skirt and carefully pressed chambray shirt. As usual, her wavy brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail from which small wisps had escaped. His heart skipped a beat when her blue eyes found his and she smiled.

A little shyly, she held out the covered plate. “I wanted to pay you back for the ice-cream sundaes, so I made cookies.”

Ben stepped aside to allow her to enter. As she did, he leaned out to catch Titus’s eye and waved to the older man. After closing the door, he turned back to Leslie and found her studying her surroundings with interest.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting company,” he said.

The interior of Ben’s home contrasted markedly with the dusty, sparse exterior. The front room was a combination living room and bedroom. The furnishings consisted of a long cushioned bench and a comfortable wooden rocker. A wooden table and matching chairs stood in one corner, and in the corner farthest from the door was a small bed—really only a cot—neatly covered with a thin cotton blanket and draped with mosquito netting. A tall chest was located nearby. The small but well-appointed kitchen could be viewed through a door next to the cot, and there was a bathroom beyond that.

Although the main room was simply furnished, it was surprisingly homey and comfortable. The walls were painted the same beige as the outside of the house, and muslin curtains hung at the windows. Two oscillating fans sat on the floor next to open windows and helped cool the room. A laptop computer sat open on the table; several stacks of paper rested on either side of it. The most surprising feature of the room, however, was the shelves of books that lined much of one wall.

Ben watched Leslie as she looked around, and he was relieved when he saw approval in her expression. He held out his hand to take the plate. “Thanks for the cookies. It was very nice of you to go to all the trouble to bring them out here....”

His words trailed off. He felt disadvantaged, not really certain how she would respond to him after their last encounter. Awkwardly, he just stood in the center of the room holding the plate of cookies and trying to think of something to say. He chided himself for his inane inability to carry on a simple conversation with her.

To break the silence, Leslie said, “The other morning you left without giving me the opportunity to thank you again.” She moved past him to the shelves; her back was to him. Scanning the titles of books, she continued, “Ben, we both know that twice now you could have...um...well, taken advantage of me. And you didn’t.” She turned to face him. His stance suggested that he was highly alert. “Ben, I...”

She stopped, suddenly distracted. For once he didn’t have his usual disheveled look about him, and he had obviously just shaved. Also, this was the first time she had seen him when his hair was not tied back. Down, his gold-streaked hair just skimmed his shoulders and was very thick. She found herself wanting to run her fingers through it, and she was alarmed by the intensity of her reaction. She felt her face redden, and her heart was thumping so hard she was afraid it was audible. Self-consciously, Leslie focused on his lips, idly wondering why she had never noticed how full and expressive they were.

“I really...don’t know what I was going to say,” was all she could manage.

He replied with exaggerated gallantry. “It was my pleasure, ma’am. I always try to keep ice cream handy in order to aid damsels in distress.”

She gave a slight laugh but wasn’t ready to abandon her quest. Deciding to be blunt, she looked down at her hands and asked, “Ben, why did you leave like that and not come back? Was it something I did?”

He set the cookies on a small table and took her hand. He led her to the cushioned bench and when she was seated, he pulled the rocker forward and sat facing her.

“Les,” he began. “I’m sorry if you were upset by my leaving early the other morning. And no, it wasn’t anything you did or anything you didn’t do.” His expression was earnest. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure what time people start coming to the clinic, and I wanted to leave while it was still dark, before anyone showed up and saw my Jeep.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to start any rumors.”

Ben’s concern for her reputation surprised Leslie, causing her to chew her lip and blink rapidly to hold back tears. When she didn’t respond, Ben continued. “I had to fly out unexpectedly that morning, and I just got back or I would’ve already come by to check on you.” He flashed the half grin that she had first characterized as obnoxious but was now beginning to think of as charming. “Actually, you caught me getting ready. I was planning to drop by this evening.” He stood and walked toward the kitchen, talking as he went. “I even had a mission.”

He returned carrying a small cardboard box tied with a red ribbon, which he handed to her. The box was heavy. She placed it on her lap and looked up at him with her expression slightly wary. “What’s in it?”

“Open it.”

She untied the ribbon, lifted the lid and gave a cry of surprise. Inside were six jars of peanut butter of various brands and sizes.

“While I was in Nairobi, I stopped at one of the better grocery stores. I didn’t know what kind of peanut butter you like, so I bought a jar of each brand they had. Most were imported from the U.S., but there is one from Germany and one from England. I’ve eaten some of the English peanut butter before and wouldn’t recommend it though.”

Leslie stared at the box on her lap, struggling again to keep her tears in check. She looked up and saw an expression of sweetness she would have previously thought him incapable of displaying. Her heart missed a beat, and she fumbled out a quiet “Thank you.”

Ben was uncomfortable with tears. Trying to lighten the mood, he headed for the kitchen. “You know, I haven’t eaten since this morning, and I’m starved. How about some cookies? I have some milk in my refrigerator and several fairly cold cans of Coke. What can I get you?”

Relieved that he’d changed the subject, she followed his lead. “Yes, cookies sound great. I think I’ll take a Coke. I still can’t drink the milk.”

He chuckled. “I understand. Believe it or not, I prefer the boiled, raw milk here to the processed stuff back in the States.”

While he was retrieving the drinks, Leslie examined Ben’s amazing collection of books. From the titles she discerned that he had a passion for history, particularly military history and anything related to aircraft and flying.

“You have a really eclectic book collection. Where did you get them all?” She pitched her voice so that the words would carry into the kitchen.

“Oh, here and there,” he called back. “I brought quite a few with me when I came here, but most I’ve just picked up over the years.”

She moved to the computer and saw that the papers were some sort of writing project. “What are you working on?”

He had returned from the kitchen carrying two glasses and small cloth napkins.

“Oh, that... Well... Here.” He handed her a glass of cola and picked up the plate of cookies. Uncovering it, he passed it to her, then snagged one for himself and took a bite. “Well, wow. Great cookie! I haven’t had one of these in ages. Here, sit down.” He pointed to a chair and, after she was seated, he plopped down on the edge of the cot and sipped milk.

Not willing to be distracted, she persisted. “Are you writing something?”

She got the impression that he would’ve preferred to hide the papers and shut the laptop. “Uh, yeah.” He took another bite of cookie.

“Okay...what?” Her tone suggested that she wasn’t going to let the subject drop.

He fidgeted with his cookie. “Hmm...well, you see...”

“Tell me!” she insisted, grinning at his discomfiture.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Okay. But you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

“I promise. Cross my heart.” She continued to grin.

He sighed again and said under his breath, “It’s my doctoral dissertation.”

She blinked and leaned forward. “Your
dissertation?
” She could not have possibly heard correctly.

He rubbed his forehead and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Your dissertation?” she repeated. “You’re getting a
PhD?
” Her tone was incredulous.

“Yeah, I am,” he huffed. “And you promised not to tell anyone.”

She responded with a puzzled frown. “You’re kidding, right?”

He sighed a third time and reached across to the table to pick up a stack of papers. The pages had been lying facedown, and when he turned them over, he took the top one and handed it to her. She read,

“Development and Application of
Aerial Reconnaissance and Surveillance

Throughout the Twentieth Century”

A Dissertation

By

H. Bennett Murphy

Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy

Department of History

Graduate School of Arts and Sciences

Georgetown University, Washington, D.C.

Leslie read the title page again. She blinked and looked up at Ben, who was watching her with an odd expression. A hundred questions and comments popped into her mind. She went with the most pedantic.
“Bennett?
I assumed your name was Benjamin.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, most people do. Bennett’s a family name.”

“Oh.” She read the page a third time and then looked back at him. “So what does the
H
stand for?”

His lips quavered as he struggled to keep from smiling. He shook his head. “Nope. Not telling.”

“What? Come on. You’ve gone this far.”

He actually grinned before removing all expression from his face. He gave an exaggerated sigh and answered, “Okay—Herman. And if you
ever
tell
anyone,
I
will
find you.”