"When I tried to wake you after the accident, you kept saying you didn't want to be one of the seven dwarfs. You wanted a keg party. What did you mean about Snow White tapping a keg?"
"I must have hit my head harder than I thought. I have no idea what I meant." She planted one foot in front of the other with each huffing breath. "Did I say anything else?"
"Something about how you didn't want to be Doc, Grumpy or Sleepy, You wanted a keg party."
Confusion smoothed from her face. "Oh."
"What did you mean?"
Her brow furrowed again. With concentration? Pain? Or disorientation.
He tucked in beside her and looped a steadying arm around her waist. "O'Connell?"
"It's silly, really." She didn't look at him. But she didn't pull away.
"Silly is the last adjective I would ever use to describe you."
"Thanks, I think."
God, she felt good against his side, warm, soft … alive. "Talk and let me know you're all right or I'm carrying you. I'll end up back in the infirmary making both our lives a living hell."
"My name."
He waited for the rest, but she didn't offer up anything more. "You'll need to give me a little more to go on. You're still not making sense."
"Doc. My name. My call sign."
"And? Come on, Doc, spill it." He gave her waist a gentle squeeze, assuring himself he did it in the interest of keeping her conscious. Yeah, right. "Do I have to threaten to piggyback you through the desert?"
"I told you this was silly."
He positioned his other arm as if to scoop her from behind her knees.
"Okay! Okay!" She danced out of his grasp. Returning to her dogged solo march, she trudged two steps ahead of him before speaking. "I never got a real call sign like the other flight surgeons. You know, like Cutter or Hippocrates. I'm just plain ol' Doc. No keg party naming ceremony. Nothing special. Not really one of you."
Tanner took in the proud tilt of her chin when he knew her head had to feel ten pounds too heavy. So many times he'd seen her roll her eyes over what she called "flyer games." He'd never once considered she'd wanted to play along. How could he have missed it? "Kathleen, I—"
She held up a silencing hand. "Stupid, I know, since I set the boundaries in the first place. I'm a loner, and I prefer it that way, so I can't fault the rest of you for not including me. I certainly wouldn't have said anything about it if my brains hadn't been rattled around inside my skull." She pivoted to face him and walked backward. "And I'll deny it if you ever repeat a word of what I said."
He grasped her shoulders, halting her. "I wouldn't repeat something you told me in confidence." lie gave her shoulders a squeeze and tried to bring her smile back. "Especially when your brains have been rattled around."
It didn't work and the failure coldcocked him. When had he shifted from wanting to make her mad to needing to make her smile?
Her blue eyes deepened to something closer to the indigo hue of an early evening sky. Chasing nightfall through the clouds had always been one of his favorite flights. He thrilled at the rush he got when hurtling through the shifting colors, as he rode the edge of darkness across time zones. Her eyes flickered with just those deep, rich colors, and he could feel it sucking him in.
Was he chasing or running?
Dipping from under his hands, Kathleen resumed her trek. "I've never been much of a team player, more the track, tennis, swimming sort of person. I go for sports like rock climbing."
Tanner's steps faltered before he regained traction on the cracked earth. "Rock climbing?"
"Yeah, rock climbing." Her lips pulled beck into that prissy line. "I'll have you know it's very restful."
He did not need to think about her mouth right now. "I imagine you skydive for fun."
Her lips pulled tighter, sealing any answer from escaping. The silence blared her response, anyway.
"Geez, O'Connell! You do!" As if his heart hadn't been stopped often enough for one day. Did she have to scare the pants off him with thoughts of her rappeling through the air or hanging from a cliff by her fingernails?