Back in the Soldier's Bed

Of course he hadn’t, but he

couldn’t help but warm at the thought. It fit with the impression he’d gathered of her today. He made another attempt at defusing the situation.

“Shannyn, we’re all feeling our way around here. I’ve only just met her today. I don’t have a fatherhood instruction book telling me what step to take next. And believe me…I have enough to deal with already.”

But Shannyn was undeterred. It was like she was pushing him to admit something. “Like what? You’re working as an instructor now. That seems a pretty choice assignment for someone your age.”

The simple mention of having to deal with things made his heart pound harder, faster. It wasn’t a choice assignment. It was all he was able to do after having his leg mangled on a nameless battlefield no one was supposed to know about. He wasn’t fit to do anything else.

“That doesn’t mean I necessarily earned that spot. What do you want me to say, Shannyn? That I miss active duty? I’ll admit it, freely. I was damned good at what I did and at least there I didn’t feel…redundant.”

“Passing your expertise on to others makes you redundant?”

“It’s what they do when you can’t do your job anymore.” He spread his arm wide. “They find a place for you somewhere else. Reassign you to something in an office. Because you’re not fit to serve your purpose.”

It was out before he had a chance to think, and he realized how angry he sounded.

“You do that a lot. Say things but leave it so ambiguous it seems like a riddle. Why don’t you explain what you mean?”

That was the one thing he couldn’t do. If she looked at him differently now, it would be even worse if she knew the truth. A sheen of cold sweat popped out on his forehead. He’d let his unit down. He’d let Parker down. And they’d given him a medal and called him a hero for it. But no one understood what he’d been through.

“Jonas?”

Shannyn put her hand on his arm. He’d gone again, just like he had that other time on the Green. One second engaged in conversation, the next completely dissociated and so very, very still. Except for the nearly imperceptible trembling beneath her hand.

She didn’t know what she’d said to prompt his withdrawal, but it was becoming clearer to her that there was something else going on with Jonas. Watching him disappear from the present was frightening enough. She didn’t know if he blanked out or if he actually went somewhere else. To a memory maybe, one so potent it couldn’t exist in the same space as the present. Despite her warnings to herself to stay uninvolved, it wasn’t in her not to care.

Besides, it was in Emma’s best interest. If there were something more going on with him, she had to know. If it frightened her, she couldn’t expect a five-year old to understand.

“Jonas. Are you all right?”

Slowly his eyes focused on her again. “What?”

“Where did you go just now?”

He slid his gaze away and she knew he was evading.

“Nowhere.”

“Jonas.” She refused to let him turn away when he would have, and she reached up to cup his chin. “Jonas, please let me help you.”

Green eyes settled on hers as he pulled his head away from her touch. There was something different about him just at this moment, she realized. He seemed almost vulnerable, so different from the aloof hostility he normally used to armor himself. Perhaps now she’d be able to take advantage of a window of opportunity. Gain some understanding of what was really going on with him.

“You don’t want to help me, Shan. Trust me.”

But he used the shortened version of her name again and it tethered them together. They both knew it. It didn’t matter how many years were between them. Once his gaze connected with hers, it held. Clung. Like a lifeline.

“You should talk about it,” she persisted. “You’re so angry. I know there’s more going on than just discovering Emma is yours. More than you being angry with me for keeping her from you. Not talking about it isn’t going to make it go away.”

“I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

Shannyn sighed and leaned against the front side of the counter, forgetting all about napkins and tablecloths and focusing solely on him. Jonas was weary, she realized. And not just from his injury. It wasn’t physical. But inside, where it really mattered. And he was holding it all inside where it festered like an infection. He’d only balk at tenderness. But a more logical approach…

“You need to talk about it, because right now I get the feeling you’re having a hard enough time by yourself, let alone parenting a five-year old girl.” She folded her arms. “Now that you’ve met, I know you’re going to ask for time with her. What happens, Jonas, if you have her and you lose time like you did just now?”

“I don’t lose time.”

“I just watched you. For nearly five minutes.”