“No. Yes. God, I don’t know,” Jett blurted. “I keep thinking about her. Gail. I keep remembering.”

“Ah, babe,” Tristan whispered. She brushed her fingers through Jett’s hair. “She came looking for you. She must want you.” She laughed, although inside it felt like tears. “She’d be crazy not to.”

“I don’t know why she’s here.” Jett dropped onto the narrow bed and put her head in her hands. While she’d been flying, ferrying the injured back and forth to the hospital, she’d been able to block out thoughts of Gail and why she had come. Now the past had come roaring back, and she was terrified. Terrified of feeling again what she had felt that night. Gail had been kind to her, Gail had been tender.

Gail had touched her. But when she’d touched Gail back, she’d needed something, wanted something, done something to make Gail run from her. And now all she knew was that she wanted Tristan in ways she had never even begun to want Gail. She couldn’t do it again. “I don’t know anything.”

Tristan knelt in front of her and rested one hand lightly on Jett’s thigh, the other on the back of her neck. “You have to find out, babe. Cause she’s still got hold of your heart.”

Tristan kissed the top of Jett’s head, straightened, and went to the hall door. She unlocked it, stepped out, and closed the door quietly behind her.

Jett listened for Tristan’s footsteps, but she couldn’t hear her. She was just gone.

“You’re wrong,” Jett whispered to the empty room. “She doesn’t have my heart.”

Tristan took the stairwell down five flights on the run. She barreled through the door onto the OR floor, punched in her code to the surgical locker room, and stripped down. She pulled on clean scrubs, grabbed a mask and a cap, and walked directly into hell. The OR looked like a MASH unit. Stretchers littered the halls, the floor was covered with discarded tubing, plastic wrappers from IV bags, and half-used rolls of tape. She started down one side of the U-shaped complex, checking rooms until she found one of the senior anesthesia staff.

“I can relieve someone,” Tristan said.

“Uh, I think Christopher in room eight…no, nine…is probably due for a dinner break. Six hours ago. You okay? Where did you come from?”

“I went with the first responders. I’m fine.”

“Go ahead, then. Tell Christopher to grab a couple hours’ sleep after he eats.”

“Sure.” Tristan headed off. She needed to take her mind off Jett.

She needed not to think about the brunette. Gail. A beautiful woman. A beautiful woman who had come halfway around the world for Jett. She stopped suddenly, the pain nearly blinding her.

“It’ll pass,” she whispered to herself. She’d let her guard down, let things go too far. She’d made a mistake. She’d get over it. She’d work, and while she was working she wouldn’t be able to think of anything else. She was too conditioned to give all her attention to the patient to let her mind wander. And when she was done working, she’d make a few phone calls. She’d get over it.

Jett waited until some of the familiar numbness returned, blunting the pain, and then she went into the flight lounge. It didn’t matter how much she hurt, she still had crew members somewhere out in the field.

And she didn’t leave her crew behind.

“Any word from Jeremy?” Jett asked.

“He just radioed,” Linda said, her eyes bright with tears. “They’re grounded in Atlantic City. Jeremy thinks something’s wrong with the hydraulics.”

“All accounted for, then,” Jett said.

Quinn Maguire came through the door. “All our people okay?”

“Yes,” Linda said. “Everyone is fine.”

Jett pivoted and started for her room. “Log me back in at oh-two hundred.”

“Are you sure?” Linda called after her. “You had a really long shift today.”

“I’m fine. I’ll be ready.” Jett closed her door and stretched out on top of her perfectly made bed, fully clothed, her arms straight down at her sides. She stared at the ceiling, dry-eyed, and waited for sleep.

The lights were out in Honor’s office when Quinn returned. She opened the door and stepped carefully inside. The glow from the x-ray light box behind Honor’s desk provided faint illumination, and she made her way to the side of the couch and knelt down.

“Honor,” she said quietly.

“Mmm?”

Quinn stroked her hair. “Time to go home.”

Honor turned on her side and rested her head on her folded arms. She regarded Quinn for a long moment. “I love you, do you know that?”

“I do.” Quinn kissed her. “I love you.”

“I know. You gave me back my life, Quinn. All of my life.”

Quinn kissed her again. “You gave me a life.”

“I guess I should go home and take care of the rest of our life, huh?” Honor sat up.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can to give you a hand with that,” Quinn said.

“We’ll be waiting.” Honor trailed her fingers down Quinn’s cheek.

“What a night.”

Chapter Twenty-five

Jett sat on the wide stone wall ringing the rooftop, her back to the city, her gaze on the empty helipad, listening for the sound of the chopper returning as if waiting for a lover. A faint breeze played through the hair at the back of her neck, drying the sweat that misted her skin. She’d flown most of the last twenty-six hours, slept when she had to, and now she was done until the following night. Three hours to sundown, another eight until sunrise, another fourteen until her next shift. Twenty-five hours to fill. She felt as empty inside as the hours that stretched before her.

She had not seen or heard from Tristan since they’d parted in the middle of the night. She hadn’t expected to. Tristan thought she wanted Gail. Maybe Tristan was right. She hadn’t stopped thinking about Gail, dreaming about her, in all the time since she’d left the service. Not until she’d met Tristan. Smiling, Jett fingered the seam on the inside leg of her jeans, running her fingertips slowly along the ridge. Tristan had shouldered her way into her life, refusing to be ignored. Tristan…

Movement on the far side of the roof caught her attention and she straightened, squinting in the glare off the concrete, hoping to see the familiar figure come jogging toward her. Disappointment, sharp and raw, cut through her when she recognized Linda.

“I thought you might be up here,” Linda said, shading her eyes with one hand against the slanting rays of the sun.

“I thought you left a while ago.”

“I’ve been checking on friends. I stopped by the ER and the OR. Things are slowing down a lot and the relief crews are cleaning up the rest.”

Jett didn’t ask if she’d seen Tristan. Tristan wasn’t coming back. Why would she? She thought—

“So listen,” Linda said, resting her hand on Jett’s knee. “No one really wants to go home. I guess after what happened…after everything…people just want to stay together for a while.”

“I know.”

Linda studied her. “I guess you do. So, my long-suffering partner, God bless her, is throwing together some food and a couple of people are picking up beer. Everybody’s heading over to my place.”

“You came up here to tell me that?”

Linda nodded. “Yes. I did.”

Jett studied her hands, which she’d clasped between her legs.

Linda’s hand still rested on her knee. Linda touched her a lot, and Jett liked her. But Linda’s touch wasn’t like Gail’s, and nothing like Tristan’s. Nothing was like Tristan’s hands on her. “Thank you.”

“Are you okay?”

“No,” Jett said. “Not really.”

“Is there something I can do?”

Jett shook her head. “Thanks, but I think I have to figure this out for myself.”

“Is it about Tristan?”

Jett tensed. “Why?”

“People can be jerks sometimes when they’re jealous. Don’t hold it against her.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Linda colored. “Oh, I thought…she was asking about your visitor earlier. She seemed pretty bent out of shape about it.”

“Gail?”

“Is that her name? The soldier who was here?”

“Yes.”

“I think Tristan thought she was your girlfriend. I’m just assuming…”

“She isn’t.”

“Ex?”

Jett thought about that. What was Gail to her? They’d been friends, she’d thought. She’d thought they’d been more than that—she’d thought what they’d had was special. She laughed, thinking of Tristan and her special friends.

“No,” Jett said. “Just a friend.”

“So are you going to come?”

Jett was going to say no, and then she thought about the twenty-five hours she needed to fill. There would be others at Linda’s like herself, others who had had a bad night, who didn’t want to go home with the memories—unable to explain to those who loved them what they’d seen and what they wanted to forget. She wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. She could sit, drink, let the time go by. She could try not to think about Tristan, but that would be harder. But wherever she was, she was going to think about Tristan, and with luck, she could find some kind of diversion at Linda’s. “I might be late. I need to make a stop first.”

“I have a feeling we’ll be going a long time tonight. We’ve got a couple of spare rooms and a lot of floor space, and we like overnight visitors. Come around when you’re ready.”

“Thanks.”

Linda patted Jett’s thigh. “I really hope you make it. See you later.”

“Right,” Jett said softly.

Linda disappeared and Jett was alone again. She thought about Tristan being jealous, and then of Tristan kneeling beside her in her on-call room, telling her to talk to Gail, telling her that Gail still held a piece of her heart. Maybe Tristan was right. Maybe that’s why Gail haunted her dreams and her waking moments. Jett didn’t know what she felt. She hadn’t really been able to think about Gail until now. About what had happened. About what she’d done to make Gail leave.

Jett slid down off the wall and sat on the rooftop, her legs outstretched. Tristan was gone, and she had let her go because of Gail.

She’d left the service because of Gail, and now she was running away from Tristan. Running away because of Gail and because of all the things she wanted and shouldn’t. She closed her eyes and made herself think about Gail because she couldn’t think about Tristan being gone.

She’d thought she’d loved Gail. She’d never had a woman in her life like Gail before, a woman who was constantly there for her—waiting for her to come back from a mission, taking care of her when she was tired and hurt, soothing her with her words and her touches. Her touches. Looking back, Jett replayed dozens of moments when Gail had touched her—casual caresses on her shoulders and arms, fingers running through her hair, breasts pressing against her back while standing in line for chow. Gail was always touching her. At the time,

Jett had been so beaten down by the constant stress, the unrelenting uncertainty, the ever-present threat of death, she hadn’t been able to see what was happening. She thought she had been the one who’d wanted too much, who’d asked for too much. But Gail had touched her.

Jett pushed herself up and strode across the tarmac to the stairwell.

Gail had kissed her. Gail had wanted her. Now she needed to see Gail.

Quinn knelt down next to Honor’s lounge chair. “I don’t think you should be doing that out in public. You’re likely to get a few people hot and bothered.”

“Who?” Honor laughed incredulously.

“Me, for starters.”

Honor looked down at her chest to make sure something hadn’t come undone that she hadn’t intended to be undone. All she saw was Jack’s fair hair and a small triangle of pale flesh. “Sweetheart, there’s nothing to see. You’re just imagining things.”

“That works pretty well for me too. The real thing’s better, though.”

“Will you be quiet,” Honor chided, nodding toward Jack. “He’ll hear you. If he takes after you, you will regret it when he’s thirteen.”

Quinn laughed and stroked Honor’s hair. “Baby, Arly takes after me. This one’s all yours.”

Honor grasped Quinn’s hand. “It’s true, you know. She wants to be just like you.” She rubbed Quinn’s fingers against her cheek. “And I can’t think of anyone better.”

“Well, from everything I hear, Terry was the real jock. So I think the credit has to be divided on that one.”

“Don’t make me cry.”

“I’m sorry,” Quinn whispered.

Honor shook her head. “No, sweetheart. Happy tears. These damn hormones are still not back to normal.”

“You sure?”

“Never more.” Jack started squirming and Honor handed him to Quinn. “Take him for a second while I get myself together. And no looking.”

“Tease,” Quinn muttered, settling Jack on her shoulder and patting his back.