In Afghanistan, Julia had kept them all amused with her crazy antics and bawdy stories. She gave the impression that she didn't care about anything, but she was the most reliable anesthetist he'd ever worked with.
Another couple of minutes passed while Radley scrambled up the sheer granite cliff in the freezing winter weather. Despite the difficult conditions and Julia's banter, visions of Olivia and George played continuously through Radley's thoughts—Olivia wrapped in his arms, warm and sleepy in bed; George splashing his little arms and legs in his warm bath.
Radley sat back in his harness and wiped his numb face on his sleeve. He missed them so much it was killing him.
"Get your ass moving, Knight. I'm freezing my goolies off down here." Once again Julia's voice stirred him into action. He took the last few steps that brought his fingers to the top of the cliff, found a handhold, and heaved himself up on the rocky ledge.
He steadied the rope that joined him to Julia as she followed him up. She slumped down on her backside and wiped a gloved hand over her mouth. "If the snow is too bad for the helicopter to make it up here and we have to climb down, I'm going to roast your ass, Knight."
She punched him in the arm and he winced. She might be small, but she packed a mean bunch of fives.
Radley pulled out his phone and dialed the local airport where his contact was waiting. "We'll be ready in ten. Just got to walk to the pickup zone."
"Okay, mate. You're cutting it close. We should just get you down before we're grounded by bad weather."
"What did he say?" Julia demanded.
"We've got to climb down." Radley spoiled his joke because he couldn't keep a straight face.
"Funny, Knight. Real funny."
She stood and gathered up the kit. Radley joined her and they set out to slog their way to the large flat area a few minutes east.
The regular
whump whump whump
of the helicopter blades was a welcome sound. A few minutes later, they were inside the chopper out of the bitter wind.
Julia chatted with the pilot, but Radley stared out the window at the bleak, high moorland and craggy rocks of the Black Mountains, now dotted with patches of snow.
It would be so easy to get into trouble up here. He shouldn't have come climbing in these conditions. It was crazy dangerous. All the things Julia had said and more. What was he trying to prove? He didn't even know.
All he did know was that he wanted to be safely back with Olivia and George so she wouldn't worry about him.
The aircraft swooped low over Abergavenny and landed in a field belonging to Julia's husband. The two of them climbed out and crouched to run clear of the chopper blades.
A pickup was parked in the gateway. Julia jumped in beside her husband and Radley climbed in the back.
He pulled off his gloves and protective headgear and ran fingers back through his hair. To hell with staying away until Monday—one night had been enough. He wanted to hold Olivia in his arms and hug George. It was a ten-minute drive back to the Braithwaites's farm. Then fifteen minutes to pack his bag and load up his bike. He could be on the road heading home in half an hour. That would get him back by dinnertime.
He was done with giving Cameron space to win Olivia back. If Cameron wanted her, he would have to fight Radley for her.
Radley pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He was about to call Olivia when his phone chimed. With an irritated frown, he put it to his ear.
"Knight, here."
His teeth clenched as he was issued orders for immediate deployment back to Afghanistan. No reason was given, but he knew something serious must have taken place for this to happen.
Radley cut the call and dropped his head back against the seat. This would screw up all his plans. Olivia would think he'd run out on her.
Chapter Six
Lights strobed and music throbbed. The combination was fast giving Olivia a headache. She had never much liked nightclubs. Right now this was the last place she wanted to be, but Cameron had insisted they come out to celebrate the end of her exams.
The hot, bustling place filled with giggling girls and posturing men seemed to suit Cameron. He stood chatting animatedly with a group of his friends. He'd said they were
their
old friends when he talked her into coming out. But not one of them had bothered to visit her in the hospital or help her when she'd been desperate.
She didn't have anything in common with these people—girls with barely anything on and men swaggering around with huge egos.
When she'd been Cameron's girlfriend, this had been their normal weekend socializing. Olivia had grown out of this. It seemed Cameron had not.
She sidled through the throng of scantily clad women all holding cocktails, and leaned in to put her mouth to Cameron's ear. "I want to go home."
"Already?" He said something else, but she couldn't hear him over the pounding music.
"I'll need to feed George soon," she shouted in his ear.
"My mother will do that." Cameron chugged down the rest of his pint of beer and held up his glass. "Whose round is it?" Someone passed him another full glass.
He'd already downed three pints. A few more and he'd be falling over drunk. He turned away and started talking to a group of friends again. She pulled on his sleeve so hard his new pint of beer sloshed on the floor.
"Watch it," he shouted, shrugging her away.
"I want to go home. Now." Olivia tapped her watch for emphasis.
Someone said something and Cameron's attention moved off her again. He'd had so much to drink he couldn't concentrate. She was wasting her time. She hadn't wanted to come here. If only she had stuck to her guns and not let him talk her into it. Sandra hadn't helped. She'd encouraged Olivia to go out and enjoy herself. But she probably had no idea what a dive this place was.
Holding her purse tightly against her chest, she angled her body and pushed through the crowd towards the exit. The stink of alcohol, sweat, and mingled perfume filled her nose. Spatters of drink splashed her arm, or at least she hoped it was drink. She elbowed and shoved to get free. Eventually she burst out of the stifling atmosphere into the crisp, clear winter night.
Olivia snatched a breath of clean air and let it out on a sigh of relief, even though the chill made her shiver. That was the last time she would ever go inside a place like that.
A group of men who were obviously drunk shouted obscene suggestions to her. Feeling vulnerable and alone, she crossed the road to pass them and hurried towards the taxi line. With a burst of relief she climbed into a cab and gave the address. Very aware it wasn't safe to be traveling on her own late at night, she pulled out her mobile phone and called Sandra. "I'm in a cab heading home. I should only be fifteen minutes." She made sure she spoke loud enough that the cab driver heard the conversation.
She asked about George, then ended the call and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to warm up. This was not the way she'd imagined celebrating the end of her exams. She'd much rather have spent the evening with Radley in the Hunter's Moon, eating a nice meal while looking out over the moonlit canal.
If Radley were here, he'd never have let her go home alone. He'd have watched the clock, ready to leave in plenty of time to get back for George's feed. He'd be sitting next to her, his arm around her shoulders to keep her warm on the chilly winter night.
Cameron might like the novelty of having a son, but it had taken only twenty-four hours before he put his own pleasure before his son's care.
The taxi drove up the drive and stopped outside the front door of Willow House. Olivia paid and jumped out, desperately pleased to be back at the place that felt like a sanctuary from the world, even though it was only a temporary home.
She let herself in the front door and went up to the bedroom. Sandra was sitting on her bed when she entered, George lying quietly at her side, his diaper clean, all ready to feed before he went back to sleep.
The light was low, but one look at Sandra and Olivia knew something was wrong. A flash of foreboding raced through her, followed by a real sense of fear. "What's happened?"
"Radley called."
Olivia's hand rose to her heart. "He's fallen and hurt himself?"
"No, no." Sandra seemed to rouse from her depressed mood and placed a steadying hand on Olivia's elbow. "Radley's fine. But he's been sent back to Afghanistan."
"Afghanistan?"
At Sandra's nod, Olivia frowned in confusion. "But he's just come back from there. And he's on leave."
"He's not on leave anymore. The army can cancel leave at any time it suits them. I know." She laughed without humor. "I've lived with this my whole married life. The army comes first."
"But Radley was climbing in Wales." Olivia still couldn't wrap her head around the situation.
Sandra glanced at the clock. "He'll be over the Atlantic by now. He was headed to RAF Brize Norton when he called. They were flying him straight out to perform emergency surgery on another doctor. That's all he was able to tell me."
Olivia sat down on the bed with a bump, her heart pounding. She'd read up on the work that doctors did in the army. It sounded as though they rarely got injured, but there was always a risk.
"I'm frightened he'll be hurt."
"That's what you have to live with if you're an army wife," Sandra said.
"Why did they send Radley? He's only just come back after nine months. Don't they have other doctors out there?"
"Radley is a specialist at limb-salvage surgery after severe trauma. If they needed him, it'll be serious."
Olivia picked up her little boy and held him close, burying her nose in his fine, dark hair, taking comfort from his familiar smell. Radley was gone, shipped out to Afghanistan without a chance to say good-bye.
He was doing an important job, she knew that. But she had lived her life never knowing when her father would come home, watching her mother struggling on her own. He'd been in the merchant navy, not the forces, but it came to the same thing—an absent father. She wanted George to have a father figure in his life who was there for him. And she wanted the man she loved by her side.
***
Someone shook Radley's shoulder and he woke as the RAF Hercules aircraft touched down at Camp Bastion. He'd slept nearly the whole flight from RAF Brize Norton in the UK to Kandahar in Afghanistan, where he switched aircrafts to fly on to the main operating base.
In his years in the army, he'd learned to nap wherever and whenever he could. And he certainly needed it. After his strenuous day's climbing in Wales, he'd been traveling all night.
He'd been supplied with a uniform, and he'd donned body armor and a helmet when they entered Afghan airspace. He grabbed his bag and headed to the exit. A corporal was waiting for him when he stepped off the plane. The man saluted. "If you'll come with me, sir. They're waiting for you."
He'd had a brief chat with his father on the phone while he'd waited to board his plane and he knew he'd be going straight into the operating room to work on a serious casualty that needed his specialist skills.
The jeep bumped over the debris left from a recent attack on the base, one that hadn't made the news when he left the UK. His mother and Olivia would be worried when they heard.
Radley grabbed the window frame to steady himself as he gazed out at the familiar bleak, sandy landscape. The wind whipped up mini dust tornados and he tasted grit. He'd thought the rugged Welsh hill country was bleak in winter, and it was, but in a majestic, awe-inspiring way. The endless sand, dust, and sticky humid conditions here were bleak in another way altogether.
The place sucked at his spirit as if it would drain the energy and enthusiasm for life right out of him. But even here, so far away from England, the memory of being with Olivia and George made him smile, giving him a reason to live that he'd not known he was missing before.
The familiar sight of the hospital came into view. Radley straightened, rubbed a hand over his face, and composed himself. This was the busiest NATO hospital in Afghanistan, fitted out with everything the medical team needed to offer emergency treatment to wounded military personnel and local people.
The jeep stopped and Radley jumped out.
"Radley. Major Knight." His father's booming voice had Radley standing to attention.
He saluted formally, then moved forward to shake his father's hand and accept a brief hug. "Where do you want me?"
"Have you slept?"
"On the plane."
"Good." His father nodded as they entered the building, medical personnel jumping out of the way as Brigadier Knight approached. "This might be a long stint. We have three seriously injured in the recent attack; two have already been in the OR. One is now being prepped to fly back to the military hospital at home. We need to stabilize the other before he can go. Unfortunately we haven't been able to do much for the third, Sergeant Kent. He's going to lose his arm unless you can save it."
The last trace of Radley's weariness fell away as he focused. Determination ran along his nerves. A nurse helped him don scrubs and prepare. Then he entered the OR.
A prayer whispered through his mind as he nodded to the medical team who would work with him, noticing some familiar faces and acknowledging a few of them by name. "Good morning, I'm Major Knight," he said as he approached the table and scanned the patient.
He made eye contact with the anesthetist. "Ready?"
"Yes, sir."
She was a captain like Cameron, a young doctor probably on her first tour of duty. But she must have proved she could cope or she wouldn't be here.
"Good." Radley indicated where he wanted the lights positioned, donned his surgical eye loupes that gave him a magnified view of the injury, and moved in to examine the arm of the man on the table. It was severely damaged, the trauma so serious any normal surgeon wouldn't even try to save it. But Radley had worked on a special microsurgery program to deal with just this sort of injury. He was one of only a handful of doctors who could save this man's arm.
This was why he'd worked so hard to master his skills, to help men like Sergeant Kent. For the first time since his leave had been canceled, he was glad they'd called him back.
***
"Leave canceled. Sorry. Talk to you when I can. Love, Rad."
Olivia stared at the screen of her phone and reread the text from Radley for the hundredth time. He must have sent it before he left the UK, but she hadn't received it until Sunday morning. At least he had thought of her in his rush to leave.
George whimpered in her arms. Olivia moved him over to her other breast and continued to feed.
"How are you doing?" Sandra asked, coming through the sitting room door with a cup of coffee in her hand.
Olivia tucked away her phone and smiled. "Okay, I guess."
Sandra set down the hot drink and dropped into a chair with a sigh. "I'm sorry about last night. I can't believe Cameron let you come home alone, and then later…" Her voice trailed off and she shook her head. "I thought he'd grown up."
Olivia's thoughts went back to the early hours of the morning when Cameron had finally come home. A noise had woken her around four a.m. The sound of someone crashing around downstairs had brought her from her bed.
Cameron had been staggering around the entrance hall, having knocked a vase of flowers off the hall stand. Sandra joined her at the top of the stairs, tying the cord on a pink dressing gown.
"Bathroom," Cameron slurred, his hand covering his mouth.
Olivia and Sandra dashed downstairs and guided him to the toilet where he threw up.
"Oh, Cameron," Sandra said, her tone full of exasperation.
Olivia stood aside while Cameron's mother wet a washcloth and cleaned him up as if he were a child.
This was the father of her baby. What a brilliant example he would be to George.
"I'm so sorry you had to see this." Poor Sandra looked mortified as she and Olivia helped Cameron out of the bathroom. There was no way they could get him upstairs in this state, so Sandra grabbed some old towels and spread them on the floor in the small nook where they watched TV and listened to music. They lowered him down and he immediately zonked out.
Ten hours later he was still asleep.
Sandra gazed in the direction of the nook with a worried look. "I'll have to wake him soon or he'll miss his flight back to Germany."
"So much for him spending time with George." Cameron had wasted Sunday, sleeping off his night of indulgence, instead of using this precious time to get to know his son. Olivia pressed her lips to her baby's head to ease the little pang of hurt she felt on his behalf.
Olivia's phone chimed. She grabbed it out of her pocket and stared at the screen.
"I love you." That was all the text from Radley said, but it was enough to send her heart soaring and bring a happy smile to her face. For a moment she forgot where she was, and once again she was snuggled in his arms in her bed, the sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear.