Second Chance with His Army Doc

He had no intention of replying so it was something of a shock when he heard the words leave his own mouth, as gravelly as his voice sounded

.

‘Hayd contacted me.’

She stared at him for a long moment.

‘My brother invited you?’

Had it been an invitation as such?

He’d never really thought about it, preferring to shut the whole incident from his mind.

‘He told me you were getting married,’ Kane offered evenly. ‘And he told me that he was going to the rehearsal dinner at the hotel.’

‘I didn’t even know you two were in contact. He never told me.’ She sounded annoyed and distraught all at the same time. ‘He never even mentioned you to me.’

Kane didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to. How was he supposed to tell Mattie that Hayden’s call had come out of the blue? That he hadn’t spoken to her brother, or indeed had any contact with Hayden since the night Kane had walked away from the Brigham family—from Mattie—for good?

‘We weren’t in contact.’

‘You must have been.’ She shook her head, clearly trying to make sense out of it.

He wished she could. He’d been trying to, and failing, for the past four years.

‘I had no contact with Hayden either before or after. Just that one call. One time. Maybe he thought I’d talk to you, I don’t know. I just know that when I saw you there, looking so happy, I left. And I never heard from your brother again.’

And had then spent four years pretending he wasn’t kicking himself for not doing more. Pretending that he hadn’t tormented himself with what-ifs. A thing he worked hard never to do in any other area of his life.

A part of him had harboured the idea that maybe Mattie’s father had played some part in getting his son to contact Kane and alert him to the wedding. After all, he was the only one of the Brigham family who had known where Kane had gone. And why. Without Mattie’s father’s help, he would never be where he was now.

The high-ranking officer hadn’t pulled strings, of course, he had always had far too much integrity for that. He’d merely opened doors for Kane that would otherwise have remained firmly locked. It had then been up to Kane himself to walk through them and prove he was worth talking to.

But he couldn’t explain any of that to Mattie. Not just because he didn’t want to drop a bombshell that although she’d clearly had no idea where he’d been these past fourteen years, her father had known. But also because he was still ashamed of the actions that had led to him leaving without warning in the first place.

Anyway, she wasn’t asking about what had happened fourteen years ago, but was asking how he’d come to be at her wedding rehearsal four years ago. And he wasn’t sure he could give her the answer she wanted. Even to him—and even though he couldn’t make sense of why—it sounded as though Hayden hadn’t wanted his sister to marry her Earl Blakeney.

‘I don’t have the answers you want, Mattie,’ Kane managed, wondering how he didn’t burst into flames at the sheer effort of shutting it down. Especially since he desperately wanted to have that conversation, too.

‘But we’re not here to rake over our past personal life. We’re here for Operation Strikethrough. So that you can set up the medical scenarios that will test our infantry platoons to their limits.’

He could see the emotions buffeting Mattie. The same emotions that were tearing through him. But he couldn’t let them in. He wouldn’t. It would serve no purpose now, too much time had passed.

‘So we’re just going to...what? Pretend the other night didn’t happen?’ Sharpness pierced her tone, striking him.

He had no idea how he pretended it didn’t score a direct hit.

‘I don’t see what choice we have, Mattie.’ It took everything in him to keep his tone neutral. Distant. ‘I’m a warrant officer, you’re a major. I’ve led seminars on what would happen if any of my NCOs were caught having a relationship with a commissioned officer, even a colour sergeant with a lieutenant. You know what would happen if they discovered anything between you and me.’

‘You don’t have to remind me.’ She straightened her shoulders. ‘I’m well aware. One or both of us would lose our careers. I have briefed my own share of subbies on the consequences of fraternisation with privates or NCOs.’

‘Even if anyone found out about what happened between us at the weekend—which they won’t, of course, but even if they did—there could be no fallout.’

They hadn’t known the situation then. They’d had no idea the other was also in the military. But they did now.

‘It just can’t happen, Mattie.’ He didn’t know whether he was trying to convince her or himself.

‘It wasn’t going to,’ she snorted.