Jackie sighed. “Yeah, I know. Still, it seems like you haven’t thought through your reasoning well enough. You’ve been at this a long time. Maybe it’s only this tour is rubbing you wrong.”
How did she say she wanted to be near Hunt? That she was afraid she’d lose him if she kept the Army a priority? Her year without him rose to choke her.
Jackie studied her face, and it made Cait squirm because she had no idea what she’d see. Her friend, her sister, could read her with her eyes closed.
“Look, as always, it’s up to you. You can make a perfectly good career in civilian life. We’ve argued about that before. You’ve given them your required six years and then some, and you’ve sent dozens of service members back home to their families. No one would fault you for getting out and putting that experience to use in a solid community. Hell, that’s what I’m doing. But you don’t sound sure.”
Cait shook her head. “I guess I’m not yet. I do know Hunt is in the picture now, and I want him to stay there. Managing this dual role is making my head explode.” She gave a small laugh to take the tension off.
A knock on the door interrupted her.
Jackie gave her a lewd look. “Somebody calling this late.”
Her heart soared that it might be Hunt. “Yeah, I need to go. I’ll call you tomorrow if I can or email you.”
“Do that. This conversation isn’t finished.” Jackie blew her a kiss. “I love you. Don’t forget that.”
Cait used sign language to say I love you with her fingers. “I would never forget.”
The knock sounded again.
“Later.” She waved at Jackie and disconnected. Setting aside her computer, she dumped the drawings onto the floor and eased off the bed so as not to step on them.
“I’m coming. Just a second.” She got to the lock, twisted the knob, and opened the door in one motion.
The man with the mean face stood there. He had tired eyes, tense shoulders, and Cait longed to give him a back rub and make him sleep.
“You should have asked me who it was.”
Cait shrugged and motioned him in. “What’s wrong? You have your mean face on.”
“What took so long?”
“I was talking to Jackie. She’s my family, my best friend, might as well be my sister.”
He stepped farther into the room. Since she’d been in quarters, it had gotten messy, and Cait grimaced. He never saw her at her best. “What’s this?” He pointed at the floor.
“I draw. It’s a stress reliever.”
“And these specifically?” He bent and picked one. “This is the boy?”
“Yes.”
He swept another one into his hand. “The mother?”
“Yes.”
He studied the mother’s face. “These are good.”
“Thanks. I’m not DaVinci, or interested in selling anything, but it helps take the pressure off my brain.”
He stopped and twisted his head, staring at the picture on the bed. “Who is this?”
“I don’t know. He was with the mother for part of the time. He seemed different.”
Hunt picked up the drawing pad and then shut his eyes. “Dammit.”
“What? You know him?”