CHAPTER 23
“Cassie.” Parker’s voice came to her through the fog. Someone was shaking her. “Wake up, Cassie.”
She thrashed, fear and bile rising up through her throat, but Parker’s arms remained in a vice-like grip around her. “I’m here, baby. Right here. It’s just a dream.”
She half-sobbed, fully awake now, body trembling and slick with sweat. “Oh God, oh God. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
How long had they been out? The playhouse was now dim in the late afternoon shade.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re safe. Breathe with me.” His voice was so sure, so confident. “C’mon. Breathe in, two, three.”
She drew in a shaky breath, trying to keep up, and blowing out on his count.
“Focus on the sound of my voice. Can you do that?”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
Slowly, she crawled back into her skin from the nightmare of fire and blood. After her breathing had returned to normal, Parker sat up, and took her hand, lacing their fingers together.
“Who’s Murph?”
Cassie’s stomach dropped at his question. She hadn’t heard or spoken Brian’s name aloud since the day he’d died. She must have called his name when she’d been dreaming. For a beautiful, awful moment, she saw him looking over at her in the cockpit, eyes obscured by sunglasses, but grinning and giving her a thumbs up as they readied for takeoff. God, they’d made quite a team.
“Chief Warrant Officer 2, Brian Murphy, known to his friends and all who loved him as Murph. He was my co-pilot.” She looked down, studying their linked hands, then raised her eyes to his. “He was also my lover.”
Parker’s arm tensed, but thank God he didn’t pull away. No one, not a soul, knew that she and Brian had had a thing going on for several months. So when he’d died, she’d not only grieved the loss of a friend and colleague, but she’d carried the extra burden of grieving privately for someone with whom she’d shared an easy intimacy.
“Obviously, no one knew that. We broke all sorts of rules, and in hind sight, choosing to be together was stupid. But we felt invincible. And I think we were both longing for some kind of human connection in a place that felt surreal and otherworldly.”
“Did these happen at the same time?” He traced a finger over the scar on her arm.
She nodded, not sure she could speak.
“Did you love him?”
Cassie could hear the tightness in his voice, but she loved him for asking. She examined their hands, playing with his fingers as she spoke. “You don’t have anything to be jealous of, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not pining.”
His fingers tightened on hers.
“We never said the words. You don’t say that kind of thing to someone you work side by side with. Murph and I became closer than others, but there’s a closeness you have with your crew that makes other friendships pale in comparison.”
“Like I feel for my crew.”
She nodded, relieved he understood. “You feel responsible for everyone in your crew and anyone who steps aboard. I still go over the flight, trying to figure out what I could have done differently.” She sniffed taking in a deep breath. Giving voice to the burden she’d carried for so long eased something deep inside her.
“I like to think he helps me live a better life now. Losing Murph the way we did… it puts things in perspective. Makes you stop being afraid of the stupid shit.”
“Like falling in love?”
*
“Oh I’m still afraid of that,” Cassie answered, giving him a sheepish grin, then stretching and rolling to her stomach. “But fear has never stopped me from avoiding danger. I don’t think it’s in my genetic makeup.”
A weight pressed on Parker’s chest. Maybe it was time for his own confessional. Cassie had entrusted him with something sacred when she spoke of Murph. After his conversation with Travis, he’d resigned himself to be held at arm’s length, but maybe now that they’d said they loved each other… maybe now she’d let him in a little bit. And he needed to do the same. But not without a little shoring up. “Where did we leave those beers?”
“I think they’re on the porch.”
“Right.”
He started for the door, covering a smile when she squawked. “Pants.”
“Calm down, princess, you and I both know there’s no one in the house.” He stepped outside, leaving the door open and stretched, taking his time.
“Parker.” She dissolved in giggles behind him.
“It’s a beautiful day to be outside, don’t you think?” He looked back at her, waggling his eyebrows.
“Serves you right if Dad drives up.”
He swiped the beers, now warm from the sun, and brought them back inside the tiny house, kicking the door shut behind him. “Warm beer?”
Cassie had pulled up a sheet, covering her gorgeous breasts. And legs, and… sat propped against the headboard. He crawled in next to her, handing her a beer and draping the sheet across his lap. The sheet acted as a shield, shoring him up another way.
He took a sip, concentrating on the bite of the warm, bitter fluid, and winced. No courage to be found in warm beer. There was a reason they kept beer cold. At least in summer in Kansas. Maybe he should have asked for whiskey.
Cassie dropped a hand to his thigh. “Is there something wrong?”
There was no way to tell this story gently. Best just to let it out. “I had to work through a lot of things when Cody left to rodeo.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know Dad was killed in an accident, right?
She nodded.
His throat closed as if his body didn’t want to let go of the secret he’d kept for so very long. “I’m one of only a few people left who knows what happened that day. And the people who know, don’t know I know.”
Cassie’s eyes grew wide.
“The day my dad died was the first day Gunnar and Axel had let me play hide and seek with them. They were enough older than me that this was a big deal. For them as well as me. And I was on the small side.”
“I don’t ever remember you being small.” The warmth in Cassie’s voice went straight to his ego.
“I went through a growth spurt about twelve and never looked back. But yeah, as a kid? Pipsqueak.”
Cassie’s hand trailed over his leg, squeezing. “So it was a big deal they’d included you.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Then Axel took me aside and said don’t be a crybaby, and took off running while Gunnar and one of their other friends counted. I didn’t know where to go, so I climbed into the hayloft.”
The day came flooding back to him. The scratch of the hay against his skin, the meadowlarks calling in the distance. “I buried myself deep in the hay, and they missed me when they popped up to take a look. After I’d heard them leave the barn, I sat up. I could see Dad and Uncle Warren and Uncle Eddie out in the field closest to the barnyard. The one with the tree.”
He swallowed, the confusion and fear of what happened next swirling through him. “I remember a shout, and as I looked out, I saw Dad being tossed like a box of Wheaties, and my uncles shouting and waving at this big white bull.”
Cassie gasped and covered her mouth, digging her fingernails into his leg. “Oh, no. Park. I only ever heard it was an equipment accident.”
He nodded, half-sick at the memory. “I was paralyzed. I wanted to scream. It was right there, stuck in my throat. But I couldn’t. Nothing would come out. And all I heard was Axel’s voice saying don’t be a crybaby. He was unconscious when they carried him to the barnyard. All three of them were covered in blood.
“It took forever for the ambulance to come, and I’m pretty sure he was dead when they took him away. I don’t remember how I got down from the loft.”
He took a ragged breath and several gulps of the warm beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He snuck a peek at Cassie who held herself still beside him, face stricken, eyes filled with sorrow. “You were so small.”
He nodded, pushing down a flash of anger. “Yeah. Too small. No one should have to see that shit. Especially a little kid. And I don’t know when it was, later that night, maybe the next day. At some point, Uncle Warren took me aside and said I was the man of the house now. I had to make sure Mom and Cody were taken care of.”
Cassie made a disapproving noise in the back of her throat. The sound reminded him of her mother. Dottie would flip a lid if she ever learned what had really happened on that day.
“No one should say that to a child,” Cassie seethed.
“No, they shouldn’t. And I’d like to think I’ll do better by little Henry, and someday my own children.”
“So that’s why you wanted to be a doctor.”
“And why I ended up a paramedic instead.”
“Because you worried about your mom?”
He nodded. “Of course. And also because I wanted, I want to make sure nothing like that happens to someone I love.”
“But you can’t save them from accidents.”
“I didn’t say it was rational. But I’m sure as hell going to try to keep the people I love safe.”
“Enter Park Kent, Prairie’s homegrown superhero,” she quipped.
“Maybe. Mom was devastated when Cody left to rodeo. Especially since he chose to ride bulls. I don’t know if it was out of a sick need to prove to us that Dad’s death was just an accident, or if he even knows how dad really died. At any rate, mom took it hard.” He took a deep, steadying breath. Something else he’d never told a soul, but how else to show Cassie she could confide in him? “And I did too.”
Cassie gave him a reassuring squeeze. “How so?”
He laughed harshly. “Nightmares. Vivid ones with raging bulls and blood everywhere.”
Cassie froze beside him.
He flicked a gaze in her direction. “You’re not the only one who’s suffered, sunshine.”
“They don’t affect my job performance.” A defensive edge crept into her voice.
“Not now. But they affect your sleep, and in time, sleep deprivation will. What if you freeze up in the cockpit and you jeopardize your crew?”
“I’d never let that happen,” she hissed fiercely.
“May not be up to you, darlin’.” He tucked a finger under her chin. “Sometimes it’s what you do off the battlefield that takes more courage.” The silence drew out between them. “I know what it takes. I was scared to tell anyone. I thought people would think I had a screw loose. Fortunately, I had a professor who noticed I was having a hard time and cared enough to ask. For some reason, I trusted him. He connected me with a therapist.”
“I’d be grounded. My career will be over.”
“I don’t know how the military works, but I can’t imagine they’d ground you for getting help. And if it makes you better at your job?”
She gave him a hard look. “I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t fly.”
He took her hand. “Think about it? You’re not alone in the air, Cassie. And you’re not alone on the ground either. I swear I’ll be here for you if you’ll let me. So will a lot of other people.”