Band of Brothers by Cheryl Reavis

Author:Cheryl Reavis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BelleBooks Inc.
Published: 2017-03-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Josh

HE WAS TIRED, and he wanted to sleep. The only reason he was still awake was because Cassie hadn’t come yet, and he kept thinking, at some point, she’d walk in. He was trying to settle down, to stop listening to every little sound, but he couldn’t seem to do it. He knew he was depending on her too much, and he couldn’t afford to do that. It had taken him years to learn not to feel abandoned every time someone came and went in his life. It was one of his better survival skills, the one that had saved him when Angie had left him and Elizabeth.

He gave a weary sigh. He still couldn’t believe the sand sailor had come to thank him. Why couldn’t he remember!

He turned his head toward yet another small sound. “Who’s here?”

“Nobody,” Sandra Kay said. “Just us chickens.”

“I never know what you mean by that.” He had to ask because this was Sandra Kay, and who knew what she might be up to?

“I have no idea what it means. It’s just something old people say.”

“So you’re old then,” he said, knowing it would rattle her cage. He had to do something if he was going to stop worrying about where Cassie was.

“Well, I wasn’t until I met you. How are you feeling?”

“I’m tired. I’ve been up in a wheelchair. I don’t know where the hell they took me. I’ve been talking to people I couldn’t see all morning. I learned one thing, though. You can’t pretend to be asleep when your eyes are bandaged. People talk to you anyway.”

“Why didn’t you ask somebody to roll you back here?”

“I just didn’t. I thought you were going to take me sightseeing when I could be up.”

She ignored that remark. He could feel her waiting.

“I didn’t ask because I couldn’t see them. For all I knew, they were worse off than I am.”

“Uh-oh. I know that tone.”

“What tone?”

“The ‘Sandra Kay, Shut Up’ tone.”

The conversation lagged, and he let it. Of course he could have asked for help getting back to his room or what the weather was like outside or who the hell he was talking to, but he didn’t. He simply sat there and tried to . . . survive. That was all he had the mental and physical strength to do, so he tried to hide in plain sight and daydreamed. Sometimes he imagined what it would be like to ride the Chief again, feel the wind, feel Cassandra Murphy’s arms around his waist and—

Sandra Kay took it upon herself to break the silence. “She’s gone back to Lejeune.”

“What?” he asked, startled. He waited for her to continue, but—nothing.

“She was supposed to be here,” he said after a long moment. He could have pretended to be slow on the uptake and ask who Sandra Kay meant, but that would have gotten her all stirred up again. She was sure he was trying to hide his feelings for Cassie, from himself and from her. In

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