Delta Force Die Hard. Carol Ericson
Then he closed his eyes, dragging in a deep breath. If he kicked up a ruckus now, they’d never let him out of their sights again.
“You know, that sounds good about now.”
“Of course it does. Tabitha, help the lieutenant back into bed. I’ll do my thing and go round up Dr. Goshen.”
Tabitha reached across him, her right breast brushing his arm, and fluffed up his pillows. “We had some delicious pork chops and mashed potatoes tonight. I’ll have the cook fix you up a special plate and have him add an extra dessert.”
“That’ll work.” He eased back onto the bed, his gown hitching up to his thighs.
Tabitha tugged on the edge of the material, her fingers dangerously close to his crotch, and then twitched the covers back over his legs. She tucked the covers around his waist, and her hands lingered next to his hips.
“Anything else I can get you before ordering your dinner?”
“I’m fine, Tabitha. Thanks.” He even managed to crack a smile in her direction.
Wrong move.
The nurse turned pink up to her strawberry blond hair. “We’re going to make sure you stay that way...Asher.”
When Dr. Evans returned with the psychiatrist, Dr. Goshen, Tabitha squeezed Asher’s thigh and gave him an encouraging nod.
He endured their invasion of his body and mind with a smile on his face and an agreeable tone in his voice. When Tabitha returned with a tray groaning with steaming food, Dr. Goshen shook out two blue pills next to the plate.
“Take these when you get some food in your stomach, and you’ll be back on track.”
Back on track to crazy town? The only track he wanted to be on was the one back to the forest...and Paige.
* * *
PAIGE RAN HER fingers through her damp hair and collapsed on the hotel bed. He really didn’t know her. His dark green eyes had been vacant when he looked at her. Maybe he suffered from more than memory loss.
She’d worked with enough people suffering from PTSD to know it could take many forms. Maybe he was a danger to himself and others and that was why the army had him stashed away here—captive. Maybe he’d been trying to go AWOL, like Major Denver. Maybe they were just holding him here until he got better before they court-martialed him.
She rolled over onto her stomach and pounded the pillow with her fist. No way. She had a hard time believing Major Denver turned, but apparently Asher himself had confirmed it. He’d been the lone survivor of the disastrous mission that had resulted in the death of an army ranger, the defection of Denver and Asher’s fall and subsequent amnesia.
If Asher were in trouble with the army, wouldn’t they just tell her? That would be enough to keep her away. Her inside army source, Dad’s friend and now Mom’s confidant Terrence Elder, hadn’t mentioned anything about an arrest or court-martial. Terrence had pulled in a few favors to find out where Asher had been sent after Germany. That was how Paige had tracked Asher down to the convalescent facility, Hidden Hills, here in Vermont.
Asher’s own teammates had been no help at all. If they’d returned her calls, and only a few did, they denied any knowledge of Asher’s whereabouts and weren’t too concerned about finding him. They’d viewed his accusations against Major Denver as the supreme betrayal of the man and the team.
But Asher would always do the right thing. With his father in federal prison for bank robbery, Asher followed the straight and narrow path. If he saw any wrongdoing, he’d report it—no matter who it was or how much it pained him to do so. She had firsthand knowledge of that.
If Asher said Major Denver killed that army ranger, pushed Asher off a cliff and took off, that was what happened.
But Asher had amnesia. How did he remember all that and not remember his fiancée? And if he didn’t remember her, he didn’t remember...
Her cell phone rang on the nightstand and she swept it off and answered. “Hi, Mom. Everything okay?”
“We’re fine. Everything okay there? Did you see him?”
“Sort of. It’s a long story.” She tapped her phone’s display. “You’re not using FaceTime. Is Ivy still awake? It’s three hours earlier there.”
“I’m sorry, honey. Ivy went down for a nap right after dinner. Do you want me to do the face thing when she wakes up?”
“That’s all right, Mom. I’m exhausted.”
“I-is Asher okay? Do you think you can help him?”
Paige scooped in a big breath. “I do. I think I can help him.”
“All by yourself? Maybe you should come home, Paige. You don’t need this stress. Let the army handle it.”
“I can handle the stress, Mom. Don’t worry about me. It’s Asher who needs help this time, and I’m not going to abandon him.”
Her mother clicked her tongue. “Don’t push yourself. You don’t do well under pressure.”
After that comment, Paige ended her call with Mom sooner rather than later and stretched out on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
She’d better start doing well under pressure, because the only way to help Asher was to get him out of that hellhole and restore his memory of her...and their daughter.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING after breakfast, Paige shook out a clean pair of jeans. She’d wear the same hooded jacket as yesterday, since it seemed to have kept her hidden in the forest. Those two goons had no idea she was hiding in plain sight.
Asher had been on that porch by himself after lunch, so she’d aim for the same time again. Would he follow her signal? Would he rat her out—just like he’d ratted out Denver?
At least nobody had come into the small town of Mooseville looking for her. If she could get back to that wooded area again, she’d be safe. She just needed Asher to trust her.
Could he trust a...stranger? She clutched the jeans to her chest and bowed her head. She and Asher could never be strangers. Her love for him soaked every pore in her body.
When he found out she was pregnant, he’d swept her up in his arms and swung her around and around, even though the pregnancy had been a surprise and she wasn’t quite...ready. He’d wanted nothing more than a family of his own...and now he couldn’t even remember he had one.
She wiped the back of her hand across her tingling nose. She had no time for tears and no time for Mom’s doubts. She had to rescue her man, if he’d let her.
After lunch, Paige parked her rental car in a turnoff on the main road, tucking it away and out of sight. As she hiked up the road to the access trail, she tilted back her head and studied the sky. The sun still shone through the clouds, enough for her to catch its beams with her mirror and signal Asher, as she’d done yesterday.
She ducked onto the access road and pumped her legs up the hill as the terrain grew more challenging. A steep angle and a few bushes didn’t faze her. She’d hike through fire and brimstone to get to Asher.
The trees became denser, but Paige had marked her way the day before and those bits of blue yarn guided her back toward the compound perched on the hill.
She located her lookout tree and jumped to catch the lowest branch. She swung herself up and clambered from branch to branch like a clumsy monkey to reach her perch.
She shrugged off her pack and pulled out the binoculars. She scanned the desolate lawn. Maybe the action perked up in the warmer weather months...or maybe this retreat kept its patients drugged up and chained in the basement. Clenching her teeth, she shivered.
Fifteen minutes later Asher rewarded her patience by appearing on the porch, taking the same chair as yesterday. She focused the lenses on him,