Conard County Marine. Rachel Lee

      She nodded, and he thought she was looking almost hungry for what he might say, as if it would help her to feel better in some way. “So, yeah,” he said after a moment. “I know what it’s like to be wondering what’s around the next corner, what’s right behind you, where the threat might be.”

      “And now?” she asked.

      She wanted more hope than he knew how to offer. “It’s getting better,” he answered truthfully. “It still sometimes hits me hard, but it’s getting easier.”

      She bit her lip, then asked, “So you feel it even at home?”

      “Of course. Those feelings don’t let go easily.” And sometimes they never let go, but he didn’t add that. The repeated experiences of war were different from a single attack, and if anyone had a decent chance of getting past this, she did. He didn’t want to discourage her in any way.

      “But I’m not crazy?”

      Shock rippled through him. “Hell, no. Who made you think that?”

      “Me,” she admitted. “I can’t remember any of it. But I’m sitting here in a house I know every nook of from my childhood and it’s like... I can’t explain it. It’s like the coziness went away.”

      He waited a moment, seeking words that might help without making her more uncomfortable. “When I come home,” he said presently, “I can’t tolerate narrow streets. In fact, I sometimes have trouble driving.”

      Her gaze grew intent. “Why?”

      “Experience. A narrow street is the perfect setup for an ambush, with no place to run. And driving...well, at times when I drive I see oncoming traffic as a potential threat. It’s like I’m dealing with what’s really there, and what I used to have to fear.”

      “But you get past it?” she asked eagerly.

      “Eventually. It eases. I get occasional flashes, but just flashes. It doesn’t consume me anymore.”

      She nodded, absorbing what he’d said. He didn’t tell her how hard-won that emotional equilibrium was, or that he could still, though rarely, have a really bad flash. She had only one experience to deal with. There was no reason to believe she wouldn’t eventually get almost completely past this.

      “But,” he added, “sometimes it’s like living in two worlds, where for a few moments here and there I’m not sure where I am. So if I do something weird, you’ll know why. I haven’t been back very long.” Although the time in Germany had helped ease the transition.

      Finally, she sipped some coffee, but he thought she was looking as weary as if she hadn’t slept in a week. Which brought another question to his mind. “Are you sleeping okay?”

      She shook her head slowly. “The anxiety hits the minute my head touches the pillow. Finally, I fall asleep, but I wake up again almost every hour with my heart pounding. That’ll pass, too, right?”

      “I’m familiar with that. It passes.” Eventually. God, he was beginning to feel as if he were talking to another vet. She might not have had the same experience, but she was having the same fallout. Maybe it was worse for her because she had forgotten so much. He knew a lot of guys who forgot the trauma of their injuries, but they didn’t forget the rest. How much harder might it be when you couldn’t remember anything for such an extended time frame? Imagination failed him.

      He spoke. “Did they give you any medicines to help with this?”

      She shook her head. “I had some brain damage. I got the feeling they’d rather I didn’t take anything at all, at least not yet. They sure didn’t offer me anything.”

      “Tough.” Absolutely tough. He had plenty of friends who were on all kinds of meds to help them over the hump of PTSD. Plus counseling and support groups. He looked at Kylie and realized that family and friends aside, she was more alone than anyone he’d ever known. No one to turn to who could really understand. No real medical support.

      And he was getting in deeper by the minute. For a guy who’d come here to take a break and visit his cousin’s kids, he was starting to become involved in more dangerous waters. He wanted to help this woman but he didn’t know how. Not really. All he could do was listen and assure her she wasn’t crazy. And she certainly wasn’t crazy.

      He passed his hand over his mouth, thinking again about how pretty she was, how beaten she was and how frail she looked. Where did he find a wedge to start prying her out of the prison the attack had created around her?

      Damned if he knew. Hell, he didn’t even know if she had shared any of this with anyone else. Did he seem safe to her because he was a stranger who’d be leaving soon?

      He didn’t know. And he wasn’t sure he liked that idea, either. What was happening to him?

      * * *

      At some level, Kylie had been listening to herself, wondering at her own frankness, surprised that she felt as if Coop was some kind of kindred spirit. Really, they had little in common, yet here she was spilling her fears to him. She hadn’t even done that with her own sister.

      Think about something else, she told herself. Talk about something else. Pretend to be a normal person talking about normal things. God, every time he told her he’d experienced some of what she was going through, she was probably stirring up bad things for him. That wasn’t very kind of her. At any minute he’d probably find a reason he needed to stay at the motel, just to escape her whining.

      She sighed and shook her head. “Sorry. I seem to be totally self-involved. And don’t tell me it’s understandable. We both need other things to think about than trauma, yes?”

      “Only if it works.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “Don’t apologize. I’ve done my own share of this over the years. It’s normal. The brain processes things in bits when they’re overwhelming. Give yourself the processing time.”

      “I may be processing for a long time.”

      “And maybe not. So Glenda said you’re a nurse, too?”

      “I was.”

      He leaned forward. “Was?”

      “With this memory loss... I was studying to become a physician’s assistant. I can’t remember any of my studies from the last three years. And right now, I doubt anyone would let me take care of a patient as a nurse until they’re sure I haven’t forgotten important parts of that.”

      He nodded. “I guess I can see that. And I guess that was exactly the wrong change of subject.”

      Her mood shifted a little. Where it came from, she had no idea, but she laughed quietly. “Quite a conundrum. This is one of those wait-and-see things, I guess. Ashley is beautiful, isn’t she?”

      Now why had that popped out? One of the disturbing things she had noticed since she awoke was that occasionally things would just pop out of her mouth, things she never would have spoken aloud before. It scared her, because it showed she had lost a basic form of self-control. Thank goodness it was apparently rare. She just hoped it didn’t become permanent.

      “Yes, she is,” he answered. “But you were the one I noticed.”

      Her jaw dropped a little and she felt an astonishing kernel of warmth blossom inside her, driving back the cold that had been consuming her for weeks now. Just a little lifting of the curtain that reminded her she could have normal feelings.

      Then he said something more. “You look exhausted. If you don’t want to go up to your room and be alone, how about you stretch out on the couch here and I can keep watch over you. If you won’t feel awkward. Or...you can put your head in my lap for a pillow. I’d kinda like that.”

      “But how would you sleep?”

      “Lady, I can sleep standing up or hanging off a cliff. No worries.”

      It proved to be an offer she couldn’t