Jenna scrubbed her forearms, all the way up to the elbow, then rinsed and repeated. She was dead tired, and so snappy she was afraid she might say something she’d regret to the wrong person—really, anyone—if she didn’t get a good night’s sleep soon.

Taking a deep breath, she blinked her scratchy eyes as wide open as she could and tipped her head to the ceiling and then to each side, stretching her neck. It was the end of her shift. Sleep was right around the corner.

She wasn’t looking forward to going back to her tent, though. It was only April, but the temperatures were soaring. It was hot and sticky now, even at night, and before she could fall into a reluctant, shallow slumber, she’d spend an hour searching the internet for Sean’s name.

Nothing ever came up, but it had been more than a month since his last email. Something was wrong. Surely this was too long to go without contact, but… she wasn’t sure. And she couldn’t ask anyone, not without revealing far too much.

“I think you’re clean now,” Milly said, bumping hips as she joined Jenna at the scrub station.

“Yeah.”

“You were a cool cucumber today. You handled that breech birth like a pro, well done.”

Jenna gave her a tired smile. “Thank you.”

“Go get some rest.”

She nodded and headed for the door, but before she got there, it swung open. Sami gave her a grave look. “Jenna, I need a minute.”

Shit. If he was going to jack her up for being a sad, miserable bitch, could he at least wait until she was halfway rested? Her stomach twisted uncomfortably. “Right now? It’s just that—”

His mouth tightened into a white line, and she cut herself off.

Silently, she followed him to the front office.

He waited for her to move inside and then closed the door behind her. He gave her another hard look. “I just got off the phone with my wife,” he finally said. “There’s a news story breaking back home.”

He wasn’t reprimanding her? Then Jenna’s brain caught up to her heart, already pounding, as she figured out where Sami was going.

“It just came out in the last half hour, and I knew you’d see it when you checked the news yourself, but I thought you should hear it from a friend first.”

Even as pain and fear exploded in her chest, she felt her face frowning and heard herself say, “Hear what?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Captain Foster was injured. He’s now back in Canada…”

A dull roar filled her ears. Sami’s mouth kept moving, and her eyes translated some of his lip shapes to words. Stable. No details. Significant injuries. Recovery.

The next thing she felt was a sharp, piercing pain, and the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth.

“Jenna…” Sami put his hands on her shoulders. “Say something.”

“I…” More blood spilled against her tongue. She’d bit her lip.

She needed a computer. She needed to read the news. She wasn’t going to process it properly if he told it to her.

She wasn’t going to be able to hear a medical report on her husband, her brain couldn’t handle that. “Show me,” she finally managed to spit out, and Sami handed over his phone.

The article was brief but still shocking enough to make her heave.

Three weeks ago, there had been an incident.

Three weeks.

She’d worked and slept and worried and written him, but she’d never known. She hadn’t felt it. Shouldn’t she have felt something? She was his wife.

“I know you two were close. I thought you’d want to hear it from a friend.”

Jenna blinked up at her medical director. He didn’t know they were married.

Nobody knew.

“Yes, we’re close,” she whispered. He’s my husband.

All this time, Sean had worried that something would happen to her if they told anyone they’d married. That it would compromise his job.

“I’ll need to go home,” she finally said, not bothering to acknowledge the look of surprise on her boss’s face. “How much notice do you need?”

* * *

She fell asleep in the office the next morning. Someone had covered her up and pinned her pager to the blanket. When she woke, the first thing she did was reach for her phone in a panic. She’d left it in her locker while on duty for months, but no more.

He hadn’t called her. Yet.

But he would.

She hit refresh on the search results page and saw the same dozen articles she’d read the night before. They were basically the same six paragraphs with minor variations. An explosion on base had injured a Canadian Forces captain, a reserve officer from a unit in Wiarton, Ontario. There was a service picture and a brief biography that noted his endurance running career.

At the end, in the most benign of add-ons, it mentioned that Captain Foster was recuperating at home with his family.

His family.

But not his wife.

“How are you doing?” Sami asked when he brought her a cup of coffee. “Do you need anything?”

She didn’t know how to answer that. She needed out of her contract, and that wasn’t possible, not without putting women and children in danger. She glanced down at the phone in her hand. “I can’t find anything about his injuries online.”

Sami hesitated before leaning back in his chair. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t. I offered. And I won’t do anything underhanded. I’m going to call his commanding officer and express my concern, having met Captain Foster on his transit through this camp.”

She let herself imagine that would actually work.

But she was bitterly disappointed the next day when Sami shook his head. “Tight-mouthed over there. No details. Just that the news reports are accurate, and they appreciate our concern.” He hesitated before adding, “I’ve put in a request for a replacement for you. But it might take a few weeks.”

Mariya and Milly covered for her as much as they could, and when she was needed, she worked harder than ever, driven by guilt and fear and some unspoken negotiation with a higher power that if she did what she could here, someone else would take care of Sean back home.

Prayers were all she had, because he didn’t reach out.

For all she knew, he had amnesia.

She’d already tried to contact him. His phone number didn’t work, and none of his family members had listed phone numbers. Oh, for the straightforward days of landlines and phone books.

The military was no help, either. She called again and again, only to get the same brick wall of no information.

“I appreciate what you are saying,” Jenna said through gritted teeth. “But I have a marriage license that promises I do know him. I’m happy to fax it to whoever needs to see it. And I’m not asking you to tell me anything about his condition, just to pass a message on.”

“Ma’am, you will need to contact the Canadian Forces member yourself, directly. And as this is not the first time you have contacted us, I need to remind you that everyone has a right to privacy. You are not an authorized next of kin for any member of the Canadian Forces. I cannot help you.”

The line went dead, and Jenna almost threw her phone across her tent. There went another twenty dollar phone call that had done her no good.

She wiped a lazy drop of sweat from her brow and swallowed back the tears she refused to let fall.

Her pager went off, and she stuffed her feelings down, deep inside. This was the only way to get through the day now. She’d turned herself in an automaton. She took a quick look at the message, then washed her face and headed for the hospital.

Sami was coming out as she approached the front doors. “I was coming to see you,” he said, his expression not giving anything away.

“Yeah?” She stopped abruptly, dust kicking up around her.

“I’ve secured a replacement midwife. She’ll be arriving in two weeks.” He searched her face. “It’s the best I can do, Jenna.”

She nodded numbly. Two more weeks. She just had to survive fourteen more days of work, and then she was going to be on a plane back to Canada.

To Sean, and whatever the hell was going on in Pine Harbour.

Because she’d made him a promise. She was his wife, no matter what.