"Nothing could have stopped me." And wasn't that the truth? Only a week ago she'd been waiting in Jack's VOQ room in Vegas still reeling from what they'd done nearly four months ago in a wedding chapel on the strip. They'd known so damned little about each other, sharing only a killer attraction and a love of Atlanta Braves' baseball.
But the time had come to accept responsibility. Nothing could have stopped her from coming to Rubistan. And not even a whole bottle of tequila shots could have made her marry Jack if she hadn't wanted to.
Sydney pulled her arm free from Monica's waist. "I don't know if I could have made it through an exam from a stranger."
And yet Sydney sat tall, radiating far more peace than Monica could find within herself. God, she'd made a mess of things all the while deluding herself that just because her medical trays and suitcases were organized, she had control over her life.
Her little sister was the stronger one today. Wounded but not broken.
"You would have held it together. But I'm glad I could be here to make it a little easier for you."
"Me, too." Her arms crossed over her stomach. "I'm thinking about giving the baby up for adoption."
"You can come stay with me," Monica answered instinctively.
"Blake and I are together again, for good this time. That's one decision I'm certain about. As hellish as all of this has been, we understand each other better now."
Not only was Sydney stronger, but Monica's little sister wasn't so little anymore. Roles shifted and shuffled some more. How strange she'd never thought to look to Sydney for advice, far more comfortable in the role dispensing it. "I'm so glad for you and Blake both. You deserve happiness more than anyone. But the offer stands. If he's TDY, you could drive down. I'll drive up when I can. We're family."
"I'm really going to be okay."
"Maybe I'm not." Well, hell. Way to go with the support.
Sydney blinked, wide-eyed. "Excuse me?"
Okay, she would hold it together enough not to sob her eyes out, but maybe some truth was good, too. "Call it a part of my puzzle and journey— acknowledging I'm not okay yet. God, hon, you know I was worried as hell. I need to see you're all right. Often. And I suspect that's not going to ease up for a while."
"Of course." Sydney pressed her sunburned cheek against Monica's, then pulled back. "I figure we're due some major gab fests with lots of pizza and popcorn because, God, I'm craving popcorn these days so much I can hardly stand it."
The Ziploc seal strained close to breaking even with her newfound respect for her sister's wisdom and strength. Tears burned the backs of her eyes and no way was she imposing the full extent of her pain on Sydney.
"Popcorn. You're on. Lots of it, with extra butter." Sliding off the litter, Monica pulled a smile and wondered if her other sister liked Jiffy Pop. After twenty-three years, maybe it was time to find out. "I really should see what's keeping Yasmine. And I'll check on Blake while I'm out there."
"Thank you."
"No problem." No problem at all, because it gave her the perfect excuse to run from the plane before her Ziploc seal ripped.
Ripped stitches hurt like hell, and Jack was pretty sure he'd pulled one free while checking in with Blake about SSE.
Jack worked not to limp, but damned if it wasn't taking all his energy not to wince with each step closer to the medivac plane. His crash-landed aircraft loomed like a wounded soldier off to the side, the left wing mangled at the engine port. Once stripped of computer equipment, the battered aircraft would be blown up to keep it out of enemy hands.
Damn, but that hurt more than the shrapnel. And he wouldn't even be around for its destruction since he was being sent back early in the medivac. Monica wasn't budging on that edict. She'd even backed up her diagnosis with one of the other docs. Married service members flying together wasn't an issue today since he'd been injured.
And when she found out he'd messed up her handiwork... Damn. He would get an ass-chewing to go along with the ass-shooting.
Sooner, rather than later, since Monica stood outside the plane with her back to him. She braced a forearm on the side of the aircraft. Her forehead fell forward to rest on her wrist.
And then...hell. Indomitable Monica's shoulders slumped.
Fiery pain in his thigh faded and he picked up his pace toward her. The notches in her French braid had loosened over the hours, straggles teasing free with the bulk of her hair still contained enough that the vulnerable curve of her neck showed in the midmorning sun.
He cruised to a stop beside her, careful not to startle her. "Everything okay?"
She didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't acknowledge his arrival. But since she couldn't have missed his words, he let his hand fall to rest between her shoulder blades, inched up to work a light massage at the base of her neck.
"Are you all done here? They should be finished securing the airfield soon and we can leave. Gardner and his team buddy checked in a few minutes ago. So far as they can tell, all the tunnels out have been blocked. Now they'll start searching them from the inside."
Was she asleep on her feet?