Cover Me - By Catherine Mann Page 0,73

those departing and in case of extreme emergencies.

They’d even prepared for the possibility of the volcanic mountain erupting. But who could ever have foreseen something like this?

With each mile blurring past, Sunny found herself more and more needing the reassurance of Wade’s voice in her ears. Even knowing she should focus on the treacherous landscape, conserve her strength, she couldn’t stop pushing for him to talk. Pushing for a way to strengthen the connection between them. A connection that hadn’t been given a fair chance or time to solidify.

She stole a quick glance at him keeping a steady pace beside her. “How do your stitches feel?”

“Not a problem.”

The helmet mics delivered crisp sound, the nuances of Wade’s clipped tone coming through loud and clear.

“Would you even tell me?”

“There’s nothing to know.”

Right. He would probably keep his mouth shut and her first sign would be blood seeping through his parka.

She surged ahead, guiding him into a turn, snow spitting behind them. “You’re taking this military hero stuff pretty far. Do you spend all your free time helping damsels in distress?”

“What can I say?” his voice rumbled through. “The call to serve is in my genes.”

And somehow she’d managed to bring them right to the purple-elephant subject between them. Family members and military service.

Well, she’d wanted him to talk, and now was as good a time as any to go there. They might not have another chance. “Your father and your mother both served, right? They’ve retired to Arizona with a pack of photos of the grandkids. Seems like a great choice for their golden years.”

Sounded like a great way to celebrate a life together. She envied them that, especially right now, when she couldn’t even envision what tomorrow might look like with her world ready to fall apart at any second.

He hesitated so long she wondered if he was going to ignore her question altogether.

“Wade?” she asked, sneaking a quick glance at him, big and bold against the expansive blue sky.

“Retirement wasn’t a choice actually.” His voice went huskier, downright gravelly with emotion. “My mom took a medical retirement and my father retired to take care of her.”

The rockier ground jostled her in her seat, surprising her almost as much as his words. “Were you all three on active duty at the same time?”

“It’s not that unusual for two generations to serve at once. Guess you could say I joined the family business.” Darkness tinged his voice, but his driving stayed steady. The man was a brick, steady on, nothing seemed to rattle him.

“Medically retired?” She sifted through his words that left so many unanswered questions. “But I thought you said she worked on medical flights.”

“She did, on C-130s outfitted to be a hospital. She was a med tech. They flew into some hot spots overseas to pick up wounded. She was in a Humvee sent out to stabilize and transport wounded back to the plane. They hit a roadside bomb…” His voice trailed off, each breath heavier, like running a marathon. “She suffered a traumatic brain injury.”

“Oh my God, Wade, I’m so sorry.” She’d read an article about how even if a body stayed intact, the force of the explosion made the brain swell, causing permanent damage. Due to the roadside bombs, so many were coming home in one piece, but not at all whole.

And to think of that happening to Wade’s mother…

She wished she could touch him, comfort him, but hopping over to his snow machine wasn’t exactly an option. “And you feel like you should have been there.”

“We all serve where we’re called to be,” he said starkly, almost like an automaton.

Snow swirled around them from the shifting winds, the powder they kicked up whirling right back toward them like an icy dust cloud.

“But no matter how many mothers, fathers, family members, children you save for others, it’s never enough.” She felt the same responsibility to her brother right now all too well.

“She’s alive, and I know to be grateful for that.”

“And still?” She tightened her grip as the steering tugged left, working to gain traction along the snowy path. The rented machines didn’t handle as smoothly as sleds she’d ridden in the past, but she seemed to have it under control again.

He exhaled so hard the vibration rubbed against her ears.

“My mother shouldn’t have been working that day. She was pulling a shift for a guy with the call sign Seagull. You know why they called him that?” Wade bit out angrily. “Because he was like a