Trembling, she'd heard herself say, "I'm on the pill." In the comparative innocence of that long-ago time, pregnancy had been the only concern on both their minds.

He turned back to her once more, looked down into her eyes and smiled. Then he tucked his finger under her chin, lifted it and kissed her, pressing her back against the wall until she felt the whole hard length of him against her. He kissed her in ways she'd never known before, then took her room key from her nerveless fingers and unlocked her door. Somehow or other they found their way inside.

The door had barely closed behind them before he was taking off her clothes-not that it was a hard thing to do, a tug on the tie of her new beach coverup, another on the string of her new matching bikini-and kissing her all the while, until her mouth felt hot and swollen and her breathing was only desperate sips, caught between whimpers. He kissed her throat until the pressure made her pulse pound like a bass drum, then moved his mouth downward, kissing his way across the tops of her naked breasts. Hot as she was, her nipples went puckered and hard as if she had a chill, until he began to warm them, pulling one deep into his mouth and sucking and stroking it with his tongue while his hand covered and chafed the other, and she thought she couldn't possibly stand so much…so much feeling. Then his mouth moved to the other breast while his hand came to warm the one his mouth had abandoned, and she moaned and drove her fingers into his hair and clutched him harder against her, pleading for…she didn't know what.

His hands stroked down her sides, hooked under the strings of her bikini bottoms and yanked them down, and the heat bubbled up in her like a geyser. Her legs buckled, and he caught her hips and held her while his mouth pressed kisses across her belly, and then lower. And…oh, no-lower. His tongue slipped into her, and she uttered a sharp, shocked cry. She gripped his shoulders and sagged against the wall, legs spasming as his arms held her captive and his tongue moved rhythmically inside her.

Her mind left her. Later she would marvel and wonder at what had happened to her, stunned to think that she, Jessica Ann Starr, had allowed a man to do to her what he'd done. Stunned to discover her body was capable of such sensations. But then, utterly mindless, she'd gasped as her body jerked out of her control and he'd surged upward to wrap her in his arms and hold her while she sobbed and quaked through her first-ever climax.

Before reason could return and find her perched on the brink of utter humiliation, she was lying in a tumble of sheets, and Tristan's hard, hot body was covering hers and he was kissing her again-her belly, her breasts, her mouth-and the bubbling, searing heat was spreading once more beneath her skin. His hand stroked her thighs, coaxed them apart and cupped the moist, pulsing place between. A finger gently probed while he kissed her mouth deeply…and then he held her intimately in the warmth of his hand, raised his head and looked into her eyes.

"You're a virgin, aren't you?" he said.

Breathless and belligerent, she'd replied, "What if I am?"

He'd laughed softly and kissed her again. Sometime later, breathless and trembling now himself, he'd lifted his head again to ask in a broken whisper, "Are you really on the pill?"

She'd told him the truth, but by then it was too late, and neither of them cared.

Seven months later, while Tristan was on an aircraft carrier in the Indian Ocean, Jessie had been rushed to the base hospital for an emergency Caesarean. The baby, a girl, had weighed a little over three pounds, and since Tristan hadn't been there to say otherwise, Jessie named her Samantha June.

That's who the bear's for, Jessie realized as the pounding heat ebbed from her body. Whoever was responsible for warming her quarters with flowers and a fruit basket would have known Tristan had a teenage daughter. The Teddy bear had obviously been meant for Sammi June. And they'd forgotten to call her.

She sat up, hands smoothing the bear's fur and straightening the yellow ribbon around its neck. She felt terrible, ashamed; she was a miserable excuse for a mother. She'd meant to phone Sammi June while Tris was here. Of course, she hadn't known he was going to be with her for such a short time, but the truth was, she'd forgotten. She'd been so focused on herself and on Tris. She'd been selfish, thinking like a lovesick girl instead of somebody's mother.

Placing the Teddy bear back in its nest amongst the pillows, Jessie wiped her face with the sleeves of her sweater and reached for the phone.

Chapter 4

Sammi June set the computer on Hibernate, shut it down, stretched, then shoved back her chair and bent over to slip on her running shoes. She tied the laces and grabbed up her fanny pack as she stood, shaking the cramps out of her legs. She was halfway out the door, buckling on the fanny pack as she went, when the phone rang. She said a bad word and thought about ignoring it; she was starving, and on Sundays the cafeteria's hot food line closed early. And frankly, after working on that stupid psych paper all day, she was not in the mood for yogurt.

But then a little shiver ran through her, and before she could stop it came the thought: What if it's my dad?

She went back into the room, closed the door carefully behind her and picked up the cordless handset from its nest in the pile of comforter and discarded clothing on her bed. She punched the button and said, "Samantha June's Funeral and Pizza Parlor, how may I help you?"

"Hey," said her mother's voice.

"Hey," said Sammi June. Her knees gave out unexpectedly and she sat down on the bed. "So, where are you?" Her hand, the one holding the phone, had started to shake, so she lay back in the jumble, pillowing her head on one arm.

"I'm in Landstuhl. Right now I'm in my room in the guest house. Hon', I'm sorry I didn't call earlier-"

"'S'okay, I've been working on this stupid paper all day, anyway. I was just going out to get something to eat." And she rushed on without pausing for breath, "So, is Dad with you?"

She heard her mom take a breath. "Not right now, no. He was, but he left about half an hour ago. He had to go back to the hospital. Hon', I'm so sorry-"

"The hospital! What's wrong? Gramma said he was okay."

"No, no-it's nothing-there's nothing wrong, he just has to stay in the hospital so they can monitor him for a little while longer, that's all."

"But you've seen him." Sammi June pressed the phone hard against her ear.

"Yeah…" Her mom's voice sounded very gentle, the way it did sometimes when she was totally exhausted after a gut-wrenching day in the NICU where she worked. Then she added in a brighter tone, "Hey, we had dinner together-fried chicken and peach cobbler," and Sammi June could almost see her mom trying to straighten up and put on a happy face for her. Which really bugged her. I'm not a child, she thought. Jeez, Mom, like I need for you to sugarcoat everything for me.

"So," she said, putting it right out there, "how is he?"

"He's okay. He's…pretty good, considering," her mother said, too carefully. Sammi June wanted to yell at her.

"Well, what does he look like?" She felt like she was suffocating. Even after she realized she was holding her breath, she couldn't seem to let it go. "I mean, you know. Does he look…" Like my dad? Like the dad I remember? Like, of course he doesn't, stupid. Duh, he's been in a prison camp for eight years. Finally she settled for, "Has he changed a lot?" And then, eyes closed, she waited, pleading silently. Don't lie to me, Momma. I'll never forgive you if you lie to me. Don't treat me like a child.

After what seemed like forever, she heard her mother take another careful breath. "Well, he's…thin."

"He always was," said Sammi June, struggling to breathe.

"No-" there was a little rush of laughter "-really thin."

"You mean like…concentration-camp thin?"

"Oh-Lord. Well…" Her mother was laughing still, but in a way that made Sammi June wonder if she was crying at the same time. She felt a sob pushing against her own throat, but was determined to keep it there. "No, not that bad. Just…way too thin, is all. And his hair's got a lot of gray in it, especially at the temples. It looks kind of good, actually. You know-"

"Distinguished," said Sammi June, and cleared her throat. "Does he have any-you know…scars? I mean, did they-" But she couldn't bring herself to ask.

"I don't know," her mother said quietly. "He…doesn't like to talk about…what happened to him. He has a knee injury-he'll probably have to have surgery for that, eventually. Right now he's using a cane, but he says that's just temporary. Honey, we have to give him time, that's all. We have to be patient."

"I know…that's okay, I was just wondering. So-what happens now? Are you gonna see him tomorrow?"

"In the evening, yes, I think so." There was another little laugh. "Tomorrow I'm going shopping, actually. I have to buy him something to wear. He hasn't got any civilian clothes at all."

"No way." Sammi June pushed herself upright. "Okay, this is cool. This is your big chance, Mom. Europe's way ahead of us. Promise you'll get him some really stylin' stuff, okay?"

Her mom laughed. "I'm gonna try. Listen, you better go on and get something to eat, now, okay? I just wanted to let you know what's going on. Everything's okay. We'll call you tomorrow when he's here, I promise."

"Sure, that's fine." Sammi June hugged herself and the phone and wished she could stop shivering. "Uh, Momma? Is there…do you think there's any chance he might still call tonight?"

There was a little pause before her mother said gently, "I don't know, honey, he was pretty tired when he left. Late as it is here, I think you should just go on and get yourself something to eat. We'll call tomorrow, for sure. Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay. Sure."

"Okay then. Bye-bye, honey. Love you."

"Love you, too, Momma. Bye."

For a long time after she pressed the disconnect button, Sammi June sat on the bed, holding the phone cradled to her chest and rocking herself. She no longer felt the least little bit like eating.

And in her room in the guest house in Landstuhl, Germany, Jessie set the phone back on its cradle and picked up the Teddy bear. After gazing at it for a moment, she wrapped her arms around it and cradled it against her heart.

Does he have any scars?

She didn't know how to tell Sammi June that the worst of her daddy's scars were most likely deep down inside him, where nobody could see them.


* * *

At eleven o'clock next morning, Lieutenant Commander Rees arrived in a European model Ford to take Jessie shopping. He took her to a larger town near the air base where, he said, most of the families of base personnel did their shopping. Before turning her loose in the shops, however, he took her to lunch at a small bistro that served mostly Italian food, including pizza. Normally Jessie was very fond of pizza, but it was going to be a while before she stopped associating the smell of Italian food with the heartstopping terror of that phone call from her mother, telling her that her husband had come back from the dead after eight years.

She ordered a small antipasto and a diet soda, and since the weather was unusually sunny and warm for April, they chose one of the small tables outdoors on the sidewalk.

Lieutenant Commander Rees didn't mess around. He stabbed a fork into his baked ziti, then asked Jessie straight-out how things were going with her and Tristan.

Jessie, being a true Southern woman, was all set to smile brightly and assure him that everything was Fine, just fine, but for some reason, didn't. Maybe it was something to do with the lieutenant commander's air of authority and self-assurance, which all military officers seemed to have, in her experience, and the fact that Jessie had barely known her own father growing up and was wanting to confide in somebody strong and wise, but all at once she found herself blurting out the truth.

"I don't know," she said. Her throat closed and she stared bleakly at her salad. "I don't know how it's going." She took a breath and belatedly fought for control. "I'm a nurse, I feel like I ought to have a better handle on this than I do. Hey, I'm used to taking care of tiny little babies. What do I know about how to deal with…with-"

"I'm not gonna lie to you," the lieutenant commander said in his brisk military way, matter-of-factly munching a bite of ziti. "Lieutenant Bauer's got a rough road ahead of him, and so do you. It's not gonna be easy." Jessie nodded miserably, and after a moment he wiped his mouth with his napkin and went on. "The fact is, some POWs have an easier time adjusting than others. And sometimes their marriages don't survive the strain. Now, Mrs. Bauer, your husband is a man with a good, strong character to begin with-if he wasn't, he'd never have survived what he did as long as he did. If I were a betting man I'd have to put my money on him to make it back all the way. But that doesn't mean it's gonna be a cakewalk. He's gonna need you to be strong. And, he's gonna have to reach down inside himself and find some strength maybe he doesn't know he has."