Gage replied.
Just another excellent reason for her to keep that distance from him, Skye told herself. Though he said he wasn’t the settling-down type, though she knew he wasn’t the settling-down type, it was better not to give her heart even a chance to wish differently.
“Your next assignment’s already set up?”
Gage grunted in answer.
“You don’t seem so keen to go,” Rex observed.
No? Skye risked another peek around the corner. Gage had his head tipped back against the wall, and his eyes were closed.
Rex nudged him with a leather-clad foot. “Son?”
“I’m keen, I’m keen,” Gage replied without moving a muscle. “But give me a break. I’m only a couple of weeks into my R and R. Don’t want to think about work right now.”
“Hmm,” Rex said. “I didn’t know you considered your life’s work, well...work.”
A weighty silence descended. “Nothing’s changed,” Gage finally said, his voice tight with tension. “I love what I do. Can’t wait to get back to it.”
Frowning, Skye studied the now-hard lines of his face. While she was aware he’d been saddened by the wounding of the interpreter, and before that, the death of his friend Charlie, she’d never sensed the edginess that was infecting today’s mood.
Maybe she should invite him over for dinner and—
No. That’s exactly what she wouldn’t do. When he was safely away from the cove, back doing what he loved in some foreign place that offered him the challenge and the risk that he always seemed to crave, then she’d attempt getting him to open up.
“Your brother’s not going back to danger.”
“He had a hard time of it,” Gage said. “I thought about coming to the States when he got behind on the memoir—I knew something was wrong then. He needed a good kick in the butt.”
“Jane provided that.”
“Yeah. I think she screwed his head on straight.”
“There’s a little more to it, though,” Rex remarked. “Your brother...well, what he suffered has gone by a lot of names over the years. Battle fatigue. Combat stress.”
“He told me he’s getting counseling for PTSD.”
Skye would have felt guilty for eavesdropping, but Griffin had mentioned it to her himself. She’d become close to Gage’s twin and his wife-to-be, and they both were quite open about the challenges Griffin had faced upon his return from war.
“What about you, son?” Rex asked.
“What about me?”
“As Griffin finally accepted, you don’t have to be holding a gun to have an acute reaction to difficult, violent, frightening experiences.”
“It’s different for me. Griff’s job was to see it all, feel it all, tell it all. I’m more of an observer.”
“He thought that, too—that his reporter’s objectivity gave him some sort of immunity. It didn’t.”
“But he didn’t have a camera, like me. It’s like armor...it’s a layer between me and what I see. It keeps me safe.”
“Not safe from everything,” Rex murmured.
Another of those heavy silences descended. Then Gage cleared his throat. “No, I’ve not been safe from everything. But I’m going back, Rex.”
“Nobody’s stopping you,” the elderly man said, his voice mild. “What is the next assignment, then?”
“I’ll be taking photos for an in-depth piece on ransom farms.”
“What the hell are those?”
“The kind of moneymaking venture that comes up anytime, anyplace there’s haves, have-nots and a law enforcement body that is either corrupt or overwhelmed by other concerns.”
“Kidnapping,” Rex said.
“Yes, and on a large scale—for monetary, not political purposes. Dozens of people at a time held for ransom in remote locations. Organized crime groups use abandoned buildings, isolated caves, sometimes underground bunkers.”
“Well, damn,” Rex said. “No wonder you need the R and R if that’s what you’re looking forward to. You’re sure you don’t want to rethink that return?”
“It’s a story that’s got to be told. It’s what I need to do.”
Skye moved off then, Gage’s inflexible tone yet another warning about the risks of getting too close to him. Goose bumps pricked her skin as his words played again in her head. I’m going back, Rex... It’s a story that’s got to be told. It’s what I need to do.
What she needed was to stay clear of him, no matter how curious his moods or how compelling his allure.
* * *
“I’M GETTING MARRIED barefoot,” Jane announced idly as she and Skye and Polly wandered through the shoe section of one of the mall’s department stores.
Skye shared a startled glance with Polly, then stared at the bride-to-be. Had she misheard? “Uh, barefoot?”
At Jane’s matter-of-fact nod, Skye blinked. “But that’s...that’s just wrong,” she finally said. “We all know you’re about the shoes.”
“Exactly why I’m not