Chapter 20
Chapter 20
T hey strolled onto the Honduran army base at sunset. Or rather plodded. Neither was anxious nor happy to arrive, despite the fact that they were hungry and exhausted. True to his word, John had carried her the remaining way. Juniper could easily have walked on her own, but neither had wanted that. They wanted to cling together. Carrying her on his back gave them an excuse to do so. Now, at first sight of the base, she slid off and walked beside him in heavy silence.
They had only taken a few steps when they were greeted by soldiers with machine guns. Juniper tensed. John reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. He opened his mouth to offer greeting, but the soldiers recognized him first, their attitudes changing so fast from machismo to fear that one of them literally dropped his gun and reached for it with shaking hands.
“Sir,” they said, saluting.
“As you were, gentlemen.”
“Your base radioed you’d be here yesterday, sir,” the other said, a question in his tone. His brows rose as his gaze shifted to John’s hand, still joined to Juniper’s. He was never going to live this down. Somehow it was hard to care.
“And so we should have been, but we ran into some rebels and slowed our pace. We’ll need a clean up crew,” John replied. “Also Miss Dunbar will need a shower, some clothes, a room for the night, and some food.”
“Sir?” the second man replied. The first still stared at him, trembling.
“I’m not certain which part of that was hard to understand, soldier,” John said, and now the first one started to tremble as his gaze darted to Juniper and away.
“It’s just that I was under the impression the young lady needed a transport, sir. One is leaving in ten minutes. But if you’d rather she not go…” his words trailed off and he paled, uncertain if he’d said too much.
Juniper tensed, and now so did John. “Of course I want her on that transport,” he said. Juniper tried to withdraw her hand, but he wouldn’t allow it. “If you could give us a few minutes.”
“Yes, sir,” the braver man said, then both men darted away.
“They’re most certainly going to change their underpants. Honestly, John, the effect you have on people.”
“Too much?” he asked, now facing her.
“I think it’s magnificent,” she said in a hushed whisper, as if it were a shameful confession. “I love that you’re terrifying to everyone but me.”
He did too, if he were being honest.
She clutched the hem of her shirt, twisting her fingers nervously in the material smile fading. “Bear.”
“Juniper.”
“Don’t make me beg.”
“The Juniper Dunbar I know wouldn’t begin to know how,” he replied.
“I didn’t used to think so, but…” She took a breath. “Pl…”
He pressed his thumb to her lips and shook his head. “Let me tell you something, Juni. You know I would kill for you, I’ve already done it. I would also die for you, in a heartbeat, no hesitation. But I have no idea how to live for you, none whatsoever. I’m not a husband or father.”
“You could be,” Juniper said. “I can see it, Bear. I can see it so clearly. You would be amazing at it.”
“I would be a giant question mark, always with the potential to be a disaster. I can’t do that to you, not when a more certain life awaits you.”
Her eyes filled with tears and it was like a knife through his heart. “Will you at least kiss me goodbye?”
“No. I can’t.”
“Why? So I won’t have to tell my fiancé I cheated?”
“What you tell that boy is up to you. I can’t kiss you for a selfish reason—because I can’t risk knowing what I can’t have. I’m an all-or-nothing person, either all in or all out. I can’t straddle the middle, and especially not with you.”
“So I’m nothing, is that what you’re telling me?” The tears spilled over and eased down her face.
“You are everything,” he said, picking her up and holding her impossibly close. He buried his face in her hair while she pressed her face to his neck.
“Bear, I love you so.”
He wouldn’t, couldn’t say anything in return. The lack irritated her. She eased away and scowled into his face.
“You have ruined me, do you know that? You have ruined me for anyone else.”
He blinked down at her, shocked. “I haven’t touched you.”
She barked a harsh laugh. “Is that what you think? You have left your mark on me, indelibly and forever and I just…wanted and expected so much more from you.” She wriggled and he set her down. She took a step back and they regarded each other. He had the sense she was giving him one final chance. He wouldn’t, couldn’t open his mouth, mostly because he didn’t trust what might come out.
“Sir? Pardon the interruption, but the transport is ready. If the young lady is ready?”
John forced himself to take a step back. He thought it would probably be the hardest step he would ever have to take. Juniper’s face didn’t crumple, but she did cry harder, tears that had once been a slow drizzle now a tsunami that covered her entire face. The soldier fished in his pocket and handed her a tissue.
“Thank you,” she murmured, summoning a smile that, even in his misery, sent a dagger of jealousy shuddering through John. The only way he could survive, could resist reaching for her, was to stand at ease, to remind himself he was a soldier and duty came first, even when he didn’t want it to.
She turned and walked away without a word, shoulders back and proud. Only someone who really knew her, as he admitted he did, could tell how wounded she was and how hard she was trying to keep it together. She would likely cry all the way back to the states. John envied her that. For the first time since he was a child, he wished he hadn’t lost the ability to cry. It would feel wonderfully freeing to rid himself of the weight of everything now pressing on his chest.
Of course part of that weight wasn’t due to sadness or longing. He stumbled, bumping the soldier who remained with him. The man regarded him curiously. It was the terrified man from before, who finally found his words.
“Sir? Are you all right?”
“In a moment, Private,” John said. He remained facing Juniper until she was long out of sight. Though he couldn’t see it, he knew she’d boarded the plane by now. He could hear the engine and waited until it took off, until it was gone from view, and then he spoke.
“Private.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Radio the on-base medic and tell him I have need of his services.”
“Sir? Are you ill?”
“No, I’m shot.” He stumbled again and the man grabbed onto him, tentatively at first, then taking more of his weight when John sagged into him.
The next few minutes were a bit of a blur as a medic was called, along with a Jeep for transport. The next time John was fully awake, he was in the sick bay, the medic staring worriedly down at him.
“Sir,” the medic said. “When did this happen?” He motioned to the tidy hole in John’s chest.
“A couple of days ago.” The first Sandinista, Juniper’s captor with the gun, might have died happy if he’d realized one of his wayward shots had found its target. It wasn’t the first time John had been shot, though he’d never been shot in the chest before. He at first thought it was a good thing the wound didn’t bleed, had barely made a hole. He’d been able to convince himself that maybe he hadn’t been shot; maybe one of the bullets splintered or it was an errant piece of shrapnel from one of the surrounding trees, maybe the world’s largest splinter. It was so tiny Juniper hadn’t even noticed it when she watched him change. In any case he’d had other things to do and focus on, no time for an injury. But as time waned, the feeling in his chest became heavier, each breath harder to achieve. When the little hole became angry, red, and hot, he knew he was headed for trouble. Bacteria loved the warm, moist air of the jungle. He had been mostly certain he would make it to base, and he was more than glad he’d hadn’t had to tell Juniper, to add his injury to everything else they’d had to deal with.
“You’re going to need surgery, sir. We’re sending you stateside,” the medic said.
John sighed, frustrated. “Is that absolutely necessary, Lieutenant? Can’t you stitch me up here and send me back?”
The man blinked at him. “Sir, there’s significant damage. I have no idea how you’re still standing, let alone how you walked here under your own steam. I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t handle this. I…I’m not even certain you’ll make the flight, if I’m being honest. This is beyond me. This is astonishingly serious.”
“Fine.” The man faded from view. John squinted, trying to keep him in focus before he lost consciousness again. “No general anesthetic.”
“Sir…”
John snapped at him, a literal snap of fingers because words were becoming too precious. “Not my rule, son. I know too much. No general…” Oh, no, did he slur? How embarrassing.
“Yes, sir,” the medic said, sounding longsuffering. Or maybe worried.
“No opioids,” John added. “Poppies…” he murmured. His head tipped to the right and it was the last vision he had before everything went black again, Juniper, standing in a field of poppies, her arms held out beseechingly toward him.