Taming Her Navy Doc. Amy Ruttan
on the opposite side of his desk.
Erica removed her hat and tucked it under her arm before sitting down. She was relieved to sit because her knees had started to knock together, either from fatigue or shock, she wasn’t quite sure which. Either way, she was grateful.
Thorne sat down on the other side of the desk and opened her personnel file. “I have to say, Commander, I was quite impressed with your service record. You were the third in your class at Annapolis.”
“Yes,” she responded. She didn’t like to talk about Annapolis—because it led to questions about her first posting under Captain Seaton. She didn’t like to relive her time there, so when commanding officers talked about her achievements she kept her answers short and to the point.
There was no need to delve in any further. Everything was in her personnel file. Even when she’d been turned down for a commendation because she was “mentally unfit”.
Don’t think about it.
“And you served on the USNV Hope for the last seven years?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “Well, we run a pretty tight ship here in Okinawa. We serve not only members of the armed forces and their families but also residents of Ginowan.”
“I look forward to serving, Captain.”
Thorne leaned back in his chair, his gaze piercing her as if he could read her mind. It was unnerving. It was like he could see right through to her very core and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
Everyone she’d let in so far had hurt her.
Even her own mother, with her pointed barbs about Erica’s career choice and how serving in the Navy had killed her father. Her mother had never supported her.
“The Navy ruined our life, Erica. Why do you want to go to Annapolis?” Erica hadn’t been able to tell her mother that it was because of her father. Her mother didn’t think much about him, but to Erica he was a hero and she’d wanted to follow in his footsteps.
“I’m proud to serve my country, Erica. It’s the ultimate sacrifice. I’m honored to do it. Never forget I felt this way, even if you hear different.”
So every remark about the armed forces ruining their life hurt. It was like a slap in the face each time and she’d gone numb with her mother, and then Captain Seaton, who had used her. She shut down emotionally to people. It was for the best.
At least, she thought she had, until a certain Navy SEAL had crossed her path five years before. He’d been the only one to stir any kind of real emotion in her in a long time.
“I have no doubt you’ll do well here, Commander. Have you been shown to your quarters on base?”
“Yes.”
“Are they adequate?”
“Of course, Captain.”
He nodded. “Good. Well, get some sleep. Try to adjust to Okinawa time. Jet lag can be horrible. I’ll expect you to report for duty tomorrow at zero four hundred hours.”
Erica stood as he did and saluted him. “Thank you, Captain.”
“You’re dismissed, Commander.”
She nodded and placed her hat back on her head before turning and heading out of the office as fast as she could.
Once she was a safe distance away she took a moment to pause and take a deep breath. She’d never expected to run into him again.
Given the state he’d been in when she’d last seen him, she’d had her doubts that he would survive, but he had and he was still serving.
Even though he was no longer a Navy SEAL, at least he hadn’t been honorably discharged. It had been one of his pleas when she’d told him about his leg.
“This is your life, Liam. My life … I have nothing else. I need my leg to do that.”
The memory caused a shiver to run down her spine. It was so clear, like it had happened yesterday, and she couldn’t help but wonder again who Liam was. Whoever he was, it affected Captain Wilder.
It doesn’t matter. You’re here to do your job.
Erica sighed and then composed herself.
She was here to be a surgeon for the Navy.
That was all.
Nothing more. Dr. Thorne Wilder’s personal life was of no concern to her, just like her personal life, or lack thereof, was no one else’s concern.
Still, at least she knew what had happened to her stranger.
At least he was alive and that gave her closure to something that had been bothering her for five years. At last she could put that experience to rest and she could move on with her life.
After Erica left, Thorne got up and wandered back over to his window. From his vantage point he could see the walkway from his office and maybe catch a glimpse of Erica before her ride came to take her back to her quarters on base.
She’d been surprised to see him, though she’d tried not to show it. She hid her emotions well, kept them in check like any good officer.
Erica remembered him, but how much else did she remember?
Bits and pieces of his time on the USNV Hope were foggy to him, but there were two things he remembered about his short time on the ship and those two things were losing his leg and seeing her face.
He remembered her face clearly. It had been so calm in the tempestuous strands of memory of that time. He remembered pain.
Oh, yes. He’d never forget the pain. He still felt it from time to time. “Phantom limb” pain. It drove him berserk, but he had ways of dealing with it.
At night, though, when he closed his eyes and that moment came back to him in his nightmares, her face was the balm to soothe him.
A nameless, angelic face tied with a painful moment. It was cruel. To remember her meant he had to relive that moment over and over again.
And then, as fate would have it, a stack of personnel files had been piled on his desk about a month ago and he’d been told to find another general surgeon to come to Okinawa. Her file had been on the top as the most qualified.
It was then he’d had a name for his angel.
Erica.
As he thought about her name, she came into view, walking quickly toward an SUV which was pulling up. He thought he adequately remembered her beauty, but his painful haze of jangled memories didn’t do her justice.
Her hair wasn’t white-blond, it was more honey colored. Her skin was pale and her lips red. Her eyes were dark, like dark chocolate. She was tall and even taller in her heels. He was certain she could almost look him in the eye.
She walked with purpose, her head held high. He liked that about her. Mick, his old commanding officer in the Navy SEALs Special Ops, had told him a month after his amputation that the surgeon who’d removed his leg wouldn’t back down. Even when Mick had tried to scare her off.
He’d been told how his surgeon had fought for him to get the best medical care he needed. How she’d sat at his bedside. She’d seen him at his most vulnerable. Something he didn’t like people to see.
Vulnerability, emotion, was for the weak.
He’d been trained to be tough.
He’d been in Special Ops for years, even though he’d started his career just as a naval medic like Erica.
And then on a failed mission in the Middle East they’d become cornered. He’d thrown himself in front of a barrage of bullets to save Tyler from being killed. Bullets had ripped through his left calf, but he’d managed to stop the bleeding, repair