Don't Cry for Me. Шарон Сала
“Are you sure you’re ready for all that attitude?”
The red flags on Mariah’s cheeks were something Quinn had seen before. “All that and then some,” he said.
“Then I suppose we need to get some paperwork signed so you can get on the road. I believe you have a ways to go to get home, isn’t that right?” Franks asked.
Mariah looked up at Quinn. “How far?”
“Does it matter?” he asked.
She started to argue, then caught herself. She had nowhere else to go. Her shoulders slumped.
“No.”
Quinn held out his hand. “Trust me?”
She turned loose of the railing and grabbed his hand.
“Yes.”
The doctor waved at an orderly. “Let’s get Conrad back to her room so she can pack.”
* * *
Two hours and a ream of paperwork later, Quinn was in the parking lot, tucking a pillow beneath Mariah’s injured leg and then another under her foot to keep it elevated during the ride.
She was wearing sweatpants and a loose, army-issue T-shirt that had seen better days. In bright daylight the healing scar from the head wound she’d suffered was easier to see through the short dark curls of hair.
“You okay in there?” he asked, as he pulled the covers up to her waist so she could reach them.
Mariah nodded. The quilt on which she was lying was thick and soft, and the pillows and blanket smelled like lavender. She reached for his hand, briefly clasping his fingers.
“Thank you.”
He nodded. “It’s good to see you,” he said, and then shut the hatch and pretended he didn’t know she was crying.
* * *
Mariah couldn’t believe this was happening. She had awakened again this morning with the same feeling of dread that had been with her for the past two weeks. The closer she got to a release date, the more panicked she’d become. She’d never had a family, and had grown up in foster homes in and around Lexington.
By the time she’d aged out of the system she was a street-smart eighteen-year-old with a chip on her shoulder. She’d wanted something more out of life than what she’d been dealt, but with no way to attain it, she’d joined the army. Even though the country was already at war, it had seemed like a good idea. She’d been fighting just to exist all her life. Surely she could fight a few more years for something bigger, and learn a trade at the same time. The decision was a combination of ignorance, näiveté and the best-laid plans.
Within six weeks of leaving basic training she was on her way to Afghanistan, and it didn’t take long for her to realize that enlisting wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had. Besides the ongoing war, she’d never been as hot in the summer or as cold in the winter as she was over there.
And then she’d met Quinn—a kindred soul with a daredevil heart—and fallen hard. The chemistry between them had been instantaneous, and they took advantage of every moment of downtime they could to be together, which usually meant having sex. She’d told herself it was just part of what was happening. No promises. No ties. She’d never meant to fall in love with him, but she had. After he’d been wounded, his absence left a huge hole in her life. She hadn’t expected to ever see him again, but his arrival today had been the answer to a prayer.
She was most worried about what he expected from her. At this point, it was all she could do to walk six feet without stumbling, and her head was a mess. Between the flashbacks and the memory loss, she wasn’t anywhere close to a functioning human, but dear God, she was grateful to him—as grateful as she’d ever been to anyone in her life. The only problem was that she was in no state of mind to resume their prior relationship, but she had been too big a coward to tell him that for fear he would change his mind.
Lying in the back of the SUV was far better than having to sit up for hours, and the pillows Quinn had shoved under her healing leg were lifesavers. The last thing she remembered was looking at the back of his head. Lulled by the motion of the car and the soft music from the radio playing in the front seat, she cried herself to sleep. Only when she felt the car slowing down did she begin to stir.
* * *
Mariah woke up and rolled over, but it wasn’t until she bumped against the back of the seat that she remembered where she was. She sat up gingerly, wincing when a muscle knotted in the back of her healing leg.
“You okay?” Quinn asked.
“I slept.”
He hid a grin. “I know. I’m stopping for gas. You’ll want to take a bathroom break here, because we have another two hours to go.”
“Okay.” She hesitated, then knew the sooner she got it said, the better. “You’ll have to help me into the store.”
“I know that, honey, and it’s no big deal to me, okay? If I hadn’t had my family to help me when I came home, I would have been in a world of hurt.”
The word family suddenly sank in. She began to wonder if she’d signed herself up to be staying in a house full of strangers.
“Do you still live with them?”
“Lord no,” Quinn said. “I have my own place up on Rebel Ridge.”
“What’s Rebel Ridge?”
“The name of the mountain where I grew up, remember?”
Her expression went blank. “No. I don’t. There’s a lot of things I don’t remember.”
Quinn glanced up in the rearview mirror. “But you remembered me, right?”
All she could see were his eyes looking back at her. “Yes, I remembered you.”
Their gazes briefly locked, and then his attention shifted as he turned off the highway into a large quick stop. He gassed up, then pulled up to the convenience mart and parked.
“Hang on and I’ll help you out,” he said.
Mariah ran her fingers through her hair and then rubbed the sleep from her eyes. It would feel good to stand up.
The hatch opened. Before she could think what to do, Quinn scooted her slippers onto her feet and then held out a hand.
“You move at your own speed. I’m just here to steady you, okay?”
“Yes.” She rolled over to the edge and then sat up.
Quinn grabbed on to her arm as she slid out, then locked the car.
“Ready when you are,” he said.
She took a deep breath and then a first step. Her body was stiff, but as soon as she began to move, it became easier.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Almost two in the afternoon. Are you hungry?”
She nodded.
“We’ll get something to eat before we leave here,” he said.
“I have some money,” Mariah said.
“That makes two of us, and we’ll be using mine,” he said, as he opened the door for her.
She gave him a look, which he ignored.
Quinn paused at the counter and asked the clerk, “Which way to the bathrooms?”
The clerk pointed.
Quinn slid his hand under Mariah’s elbow as they moved in that direction and then into the small hallway at the back of the store. Two doors faced each other. When Mariah tried to go into the women’s bathroom, she discovered that the door was locked.
“Somebody’s in there,” she said. “I’ll