Beyond the Breaking Point - Lori Sjoberg Page 0,43
a glance to Hope, who sat cross-legged a few feet away, her medical bag at her side. “Which do you prefer: ham and cheese macaroni, beans and rice, or beef stew?”
Her eyes lit up. “They all sound pretty good.”
“Pick or we’re eating energy bars.”
That spurred her into making a snap decision. “The cheese one.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” That had been his first choice as well, and an easy meal to prepare. He blended the ingredients, boiled the water, and while he waited for the meal to fully rehydrate, he started the second batch.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Hope asked.
“No, I got this.” Even at home, he preferred to work alone. In his experience, people trying to “help” only managed to get in the way. Or, in the case of his younger brother Nate, eat half of the meal before it was fully prepared.
The subtle purse of her lips indicated that wasn’t the answer she wanted. “I feel kind of useless, sitting around doing nothing.”
“There isn’t much to do.” He slanted her a sideways glance while he stirred the ingredients in the pot. One of their previous conversations popped into his mind, and curiosity got the better of him. “Say something in German.”
Confusion crinkled her brow. “Excuse me?”
“You want something to do; I’m offering a suggestion.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. Anything. Surprise me.”
She looked at him as though he were crazy, which very well might be the case. “Why? You won’t understand it.”
“I know; I just want to hear you speak German.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is this some sort of weird fetish?”
“No.” Maybe. For reasons that continued to elude him, the notion had lingered in his mind ever since she mentioned being stationed at Landstuhl. “I’m just curious. Humor me, will you?”
She stared at him for a good ten seconds before she cut loose with a long stream of German. Then again, maybe she said something simple like, “You’re an asshole,” but each word contained twelve syllables. Some people considered German to be a harsh language, but coming from her, it sounded almost lyrical.
“What did you say?” he asked when she finished.
Her lips twitched. “It’s probably better you don’t know.”
That made him even more curious. “Why, did you tell me to go fuck myself?”
There it was again, the twitch of her lips, and after a second or two, it blossomed into a grin that inspired strange feelings inside him. “Now why would I do anything like that?”
It was all he could do not to smile. He sampled a spoonful of macaroni from the first pot when it appeared to be ready. Not five-star dining by any stretch of the imagination, but not bad for campfire cooking.
He filled a bowl and offered it to Hope. “Eat before it gets cold.”
“Thank you.” She settled back against a tree, dug into her meal, and the bliss that formed on her face told him everything he needed to know and made him happier than it should. “Oh, my God, I didn’t think it would taste this good.”
“That’s not a ringing endorsement.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right. It’s delicious, really. I just hadn’t expected dehydrated food to have this much flavor.”
From the corner of his eye, Wade spotted Jackson as he entered the clearing, clean from his bath and wearing fresh camo, his pack slung over one shoulder and his rifle in his grip.
Wade gestured to the pots. “Load up before I call the rest of the guys.”
The big man didn’t need to be told twice. Once his bowl was filled to the brim, Jackson let out a piercing whistle, and Navarre seemingly appeared out of nowhere seconds later, shirtless, barefoot, his gear in his arms, and his boots slung over his shoulder.
“Grub’s ready?” Navarre asked.
Jackson nodded. “Better grab some before the boss gets here. You know how that boy eats.”
As if on cue, Austin entered the clearing, hair wet and wearing clean clothes.
Wade snorted at his approach. “Usually somebody has to say your name three times before you show up.”
In a move that shouldn’t have surprised anyone, Austin punched Wade’s arm as he passed. He retrieved a bowl from the stack near the fire and got in line behind Navarre. “Hector’s still at the fall. He said he’d be here in a few.”
That was probably good because the guys were making quick work of the food Wade prepared. It was a wonder they hadn’t licked the pans clean. He started another