Back in the Soldier's Bed

He should let it end there, but he hated knowing he’d hurt her in any way. “I still want you to come to the air show on Saturday. We’re still going to parent Emma, and I meant what I said. We should be friends.”

“Friends would be the mature thing to do,” she agreed, but the light had gone out of her eyes.

It was better now, he reasoned. A small disappointment now versus a big one later.

“I need to get back to the base.”

“I need to get back to work, too. I’ve probably taken too much time as it is.”

Shannyn picked up her cup. The mocha flavoured mixture had lost its appeal. She’d obviously misread his signals from before. Foolishly she’d let herself hope that maybe she still meant something to him. This morning his touch had been so tender, so gentle. And fantasy had gotten the best of her and she’d indulged in an image of the three of them—herself, Jonas, Emma—all together, happy and strong.

What she’d done is let herself be foolish and forget all the reasons why she and Jonas wouldn’t work. He was right. She still resented him for leaving and despite moments of accord, she knew he couldn’t put aside the fact that she’d kept Emma hidden from him.

Apparently he hadn’t had the same vision of familial bliss. She wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t wanted those things before, either. It wasn’t his fault she’d let silly fancy sweep her away after a few kisses. She needed to do what she’d always done. Make sure Emma was safe, secure, and happy.

If being friends with Jonas was the way to do that, she’d do it. Even if it killed her.

They were outside in the glaring brilliance of late morning, when a call interrupted their steps.

“Sergeant Kirkpatrick!”

Jonas and Shannyn turned as a fresh-faced young man jogged up. Like Jonas, he was dressed in ordinary combats, only two stripes on his sleeve instead of the three that Jonas sported.

“Good morning, Corporal.” Jonas smiled.

“I’m glad I ran into you,” the young soldier grinned. “I’m sorting a few things before I leave tomorrow.”

“You’re shipping out?” Shannyn interjected.

He looked at her, the smile never leaving his face. “Yes ma’am. The Sergeant—he was my instructor. I’m headed for Petawawa in the morning.”

“I see.”

“Good luck to you, Corporal Benner.” Jonas held out his hand. “Give ’em hell.”

“Count on it.”

When the Corporal seized Jonas’s hand, Jonas seemed to age in that moment. Shannyn realized that the effusive youth before her was a man ready to do a man’s job, with an infectious enthusiasm she recalled seeing on Jonas’s face that same summer he’d gone to Edmonton. When she looked up at Jonas, she was surprised to see a mixture of pride, enthusiasm, and longing beaming from his features.

He hadn’t changed. Not that much.

“You look like you wish you could go with him,” she teased.

The men broke hands and Jonas looked down at her. “Maybe I do…but those days seem to be over.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Corporal Benner joked. “I saw you running on the course the other day, and the leg’s looking great.” The young man turned his attention to Shannyn. “Sergeant Kirkpatrick is something of a hero on base, ma’am. Best shot in the country, if the rumors are true.”

“Benner,” Jonas started to protest.

“Not many men do what he’s done and live to tell about it ma’am, and that’s the truth. It’s too bad he’s not still out in the field. We all count ourselves the luckiest bast…fellas in the army to have him as a teacher.”

“Corporal Benner.” Jonas said more firmly.

“Sorry, Sarge.” Benner looked a little sheepish, but not enough to resist throwing Shannyn a wink. “But it’s true.”

He held out his hand to Jonas again. “I’ve got to get going, but thanks again, Sergeant Kirkpatrick.

“Good luck, Benner.”