“That Seth—he couldn’t walk and chew gum at the same time. Didn’t you carry him, Troy, about two miles after he blew out his knee in Baghdad?” Denny asked.

“Yeah, it was me, and I’ve had trouble with my knee ever since.”

“I offered to take him,” Rich said. “I think you were looking for a medal or something.”

“And all I got was a bad knee. Seth, though—he’s fine.”

Denny served them a salmon and wild rice dinner, a culinary event that had the boys talking about fishing as opposed to duck hunting the next day. They had all come with empty coolers, prepared to take their trophies home to impress either girlfriends or mothers.

When Denny cleared the dinner plates away, the bar was taking on a slightly different atmosphere. The locals had cleared out and there were only a few out-of-towners, either fishermen or hunters. Jack wandered over to their group, pulled another table up close and sat down with them. He asked the guys about their hunting. A few minutes later, Preacher came out of the kitchen, checked to make sure their few patrons were fine, then went behind the bar to pour a couple of shots, which he carried to the table Jack had pulled up.

There was a little grousing about last night’s poker—apparently Jack had taken complete advantage of the younger guys and Preacher had folded before becoming a victim.

Talk among the men wandered back to the Marine Corps, how it had been in the old days, how it was now. The few patrons who had lingered wandered off and it was just them—Jack and Preacher and Denny’s hunting party. The bar was dim and cozy, the fire was warm, the mood was one of friendship, camaraderie and mutual respect. Becca was feeling more comfortable and at home than she had since arriving. She was feeling less alone than she had in a long time.

“What time do we go out to the river?” Dirk asked.

“It’s close and dawn is later—seven is good,” Denny said. “Salmon’s up now and it’s good fishing. They’re moving upriver to spawn.”

“Salmon’s bleak in Sacramento right now,” Troy said. “I’m looking for something huge. Like that,” he said, gesturing to the mounted thirty-pounder over the bar.

“Becca, you feel okay?” Rich suddenly asked her.

“Sure,” she said. “Why?”

“You haven’t kept your mouth shut this long since the day you were born,” he pointed out.

“I said the salmon dinner was amazing!”

“You usually have a lot more to say,” he said. “About everything.”

Denny laughed before he said, “You about ready for bed, Becca?”

The entire gathering, including Jack, sent up a great round of whoops and laughter. Becca actually blushed.

“You know what I mean,” Denny said, more to the men than to Becca. “I’m sleeping on an air mattress so I can be handy if she needs anything.”

“Becca, even though it might make Dirk jealous, I could do air-mattress duty tonight if you’d rather,” Troy said with a teasing grin. “You know, since Denny broke your ankle and everything…”

“Jealous?” Dirk protested loudly, giving Troy a shove.

“Now boys,” she said. “We all know it wasn’t Denny’s fault and he’s been very thoughtful. So shut up and back off.”

“Whatever you say,” Troy said, holding up his palms toward her.

Rich stood to his full six foot two, gave his trousers a yank upward and pulled his jacket off the back of his chair. He draped it around Becca’s shoulders and said, “Come on, gimpy. I’ll drive you home. Then you’re on your own.”

“I better go with or he’ll leave her at the bottom of the stairs,” Denny said, getting to his feet. “Jack, you need me for anything? I can get Becca settled and come right back….”

“Nah, we’re good here. We don’t need you. Aren’t we good, Preach?”

“Good,” Preacher said, standing.

The gathering dispersed with plans to meet in the morning for fishing. Rich drove Becca home and carried her up the stairs to Denny’s room while Denny followed with the crutches.

And then, there they were. Alone.

Denny stood just inside the door, looking across the room at her. He had obviously taken care of inflating the air mattress earlier; it was lying on the floor at the foot of the bed, a pillow and blanket tossed on top. Although her crutches held her up, she sank to the bed, bone tired again.

“Do you need a little help to get ready for bed, Becca?”

She shook her head. “No, but if you wouldn’t mind lifting that suitcase onto the bed, I’d sure appreciate it. I can’t figure out how to kneel on the floor.”

“You got it,” he said, accommodating her at once. “Do you have warm pajamas? Because I have sweats and stuff…”

“I have it covered,” she said. She immediately began digging around in her big suitcase.

“I’ll clean out a couple of drawers,” he said. “Top drawers, so you don’t have to worry about lifting the suitcase or kneeling.”

“Don’t go to any trouble,” she said. Pajamas tucked under her arm, she stood from the bed. “Do you need the bathroom?”

“No, go ahead. Take your time. Here, let me carry those in for you. Need anything else in here?”

“That small cosmetic bag there would help—toothbrush and stuff.”

“Got it,” he said. “Leave this in the bathroom, if you want.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I hate needing help.”

He grinned at her. “But I like helping, so we’re okay so far.”

And then he backed out, pulling the door closed.

Becca sighed. She certainly had herself in a situation. All alone with the man she considered to be her long-lost love, and getting ready to brush her teeth and don her flannels. Over her bandaged foot. Ah yes, this was the moment every woman dreamed of.

After washing up and getting into her pajamas, tucking her clothes under her arms to toss back into the suitcase, she exited the bathroom. Denny stood beside his air mattress. He wore a pair of sweats that were slung low on his hips, his chest bare, and she got the impression he was still a bit overdressed for bed. Way overdressed. Becca was momentarily paralyzed. Yes, this was the Denny she remembered, yet so much more. She had fallen in love with a boy; this version was all man. He seemed taller and broader; his arms and shoulders were so muscled, his belly ripped. There was now a mat of hair on his chest, when before there was some brown fur surrounding his ni**les and disappearing into his waistband. And he had that scruffy unshaved look again. The guy had so much testosterone running through his bloodstream he could produce a beard in eight hours.

She wanted him. She wanted to throw herself on him and kiss him until her panties melted off. She wanted to lick him like a lollipop.

“You okay, Becca?”

She shook herself and dumped her clothes in her suitcase. “I can’t figure out what makes me so tired…” she said, pulling back the floral bedspread.

He lifted the suitcase back onto the floor, away from the bed so neither of them would trip on it. “Injuries will do that to you. I broke a couple of bones in Afghanistan and I could barely drag myself around.”

She was frozen in place. “You were wounded?” she asked.

“Not exactly. Motor-vehicle accident two days before I was scheduled out.” He laughed and ran a hand around the back of his neck. “Couldn’t happen eleven months before, but two days. What luck, huh? Jump in there. Put a pillow under the ankle.”

“Are you going to tuck me in?” she asked.

“You object?” he asked, lifting one sexy brow and giving her a half smile.

She slid into bed, grabbed one of the pillows to prop up her ankle and let him pull the covers over her.

“You want the light on for reading or anything?” he asked.

“No. Do you?”

“Nope, I’m ready for lights out if you are.”

“Ready,” she said.

“I’m going to leave the bathroom light on and pull the door mostly closed, just in case you wake up in the night.”

“Thanks.”

And then all was quiet and almost completely dark. They were both very still in their respective beds, his on the floor at the foot of hers. There wasn’t so much as a rustle of bedding, a cough or a snore. Finally she said, “Denny?”

“Hmm?”

“You guys—you and Rich and Dirk and Troy—you’re good friends.”

“Yup.”

“I don’t remember even hearing about Dirk and Troy till you and Rich came home.”

“Aw, you know… Guys don’t talk that much about guy friends. We were all together in Iraq. Me and Rich were just kids. Troy and Dirk are a couple of years older. There were a bunch of us who were like brothers over there. Six years ago, the conflict was still young and exciting and scary. We stay in touch. Phone and email—I borrow Preacher’s computer sometimes. When I went to Afghanistan, Troy was called up for another tour in Iraq.”

“You guys toasted a lot of friends… There was one toast to Swany…”

He was quiet for a long moment that seemed to stretch out in the dark. Finally he said, “Eric Swanlund. Gunny. He was killed by a sniper. We never saw it coming. Great loss. He had a wife and couple of little kids.”

“In Iraq?” she asked.

“Uh-huh. I wasn’t with Dirk, Rich and Troy anywhere else….”

“But…but we were still together then,” she said. “That was before we broke up. You never mentioned…”

“Becca, I tried not to tell you things that would just make you worry—things I couldn’t control, anyway. Not my mom, either. I didn’t tell her anything that might cost her sleep. Anyway, we guys hung tight. We talked about it till we wore it out.”

She was quiet, contemplating this. Then very softly, she said, “I never even thought of that—that you wouldn’t tell me things….”

“We were young then,” he said. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

“It was only a few years ago!”

“I know,” he replied in a low voice. “Amazing what a couple of wars and some hard times will do to grow you up.”

“What does that mean? Does that mean that if you were sent over there now, that if I were your girlfriend now, you’d talk to me about it?”

He took a breath and let it out. “Becca, I thought I was doing you a favor by not saying too much about Iraq while I was there. We couldn’t be in touch that much, you and me, and most of the guys didn’t want to worry their wives or girls, so I figured that was the way to go. I’m not going back…but if I went now, I might do a lot of things differently.”

“Like?”

“When I did my first hitch in the Corps, it was hard but good. These guys and some others—they were like my brothers. For an only child with no extended family, that meant something. I had you at home, my mom, my brothers in the Corps and I felt like I belonged to something. I knew right away I didn’t want a military career, but I didn’t regret a second of it. So when my mom died, all I could think of was to go back to a place I understood, where there would be brothers. Family. I had no idea it wouldn’t be the same.”

“I would’ve been your family if you’d have let me….”

“Yeah, I know that now. I’m not going to make excuses, Becca, but I was so screwed up right about then, I couldn’t have made a smart decision for a million dollars. That second deployment sucked. We weren’t a tight squad, it was miserable and felt futile and I regretted every second. Instead of feeling like I was back where I belonged, I felt like I was in jail.”

“You could’ve answered my emails. You could’ve written. You could’ve—”

“Should have,” he corrected. “You can say it. I knew right away I should have been in touch, but I didn’t have the guts. After I’d been out of touch for months, I just wanted to finish my commitment, get out of the Corps and go home so I could look you in the eye and try to explain. I didn’t want to write a letter and ask you to forgive me and then wait for me. Becca, what made perfect sense to me when I was signing up for the second time made no sense at all when I got to Afghanistan. Seriously, it was a bad idea. It cost me. When I got back to you, I was too late.”

“What would you have explained?” she tossed out into the darkness. After all, when he did finally show up, she hadn’t given him a second of her attention. She had been so angry, it had been hard not to throw things!

But he didn’t answer. They both just lay in their respective beds. Then there was a little movement from his side of the room and she saw his shadow, then his silhouette as he leaned over her. He gently sat on the edge of her bed. He brushed away the strands of hair that had escaped her braid. “When I decided to go back in the Corps, I’d just learned something that left me really confused.”

“What, Denny?”

He took a breath. “Right before my mom died, she told me my dad wasn’t really my dad. My real father was some other guy she hadn’t seen or heard from in over twenty years. Then she died. For some reason, that news messed me up, made me feel more orphaned than ever. I couldn’t believe how confused I felt. How alone I was.”

She could see him shrug in the darkness.

“Because of the way I felt when I was in the Corps with Big Richie and the boys, I just went back to the recruiter and signed up and took the oath.”