The Knitting Diaries (23 page)

A
fter a stop at his house, Peter insisted on escorting the women back home. Caro rode in his car with Bogie and Bacall, who were awake and strangely restless now. One minute they would press against Caro’s lap, and the next they would turn to the window, staring out intently into the darkness.

“Something’s wrong,” she said softly. “Both of them are acting strange.”

“It’s our job to make them comfortable.” The vet turned into the driveway that wound up to Caro’s house, then reached back to stroke Bogart’s neck. “I’d better go inside with your grandmother and be sure everything is okay. Will you be good out here for a couple of minutes?”

“Of course.” Caro held Gage’s cat in one arm while Peter walked around to meet her grandmother. Bogart raced ahead of them, then stopped. Suddenly the dog turned away, facing the ocean, growling low in his throat.

Caro rolled down her window. “What’s wrong?”

Peter shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t see anything here.” The vet reached down for Bogart’s collar, but the dog refused to budge, his ears angled forward.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think to tell you before, Caro. About an hour ago I heard something about insurgent forces on the move in Afghanistan. The television said there were clashes predicted near the border. I think we should check for updates.” Peter frowned, tugging gently at the big dog’s collar. “Come on, boy. There’s nothing out there.”

Across the grass Morgan took a quick breath. “What kind of clashes?”

“They didn’t say. No details available.”

Gage.

Suddenly cold with worry, Caro held the cat tighter. She saw Bogart strain forward, breaking free of Peter’s hold. The big dog banged against the vet’s legs, knocked the man sideways, then bolted across the driveway.

Small claws dug at Caro’s arms.

A second later Gage’s cat tore from her grip and leaped through the open car window, following Bogart off into the darkness.

“I couldn’t react fast enough. I’m still too slow, too clumsy. All I got was a handful of cat fur.” Caro was breathing hard, her head out the window as Peter steered his SUV slowly through the darkness. “I think they were heading up toward the meadow. After that I lost sight of them.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll find them. Something’s got them stirred up, that’s all. Maybe coyotes or an owl.”

Caro knew coyotes and owls could snatch a small animal like Bacall in seconds. Even the retriever might have to put up a fight against a dozen coyotes working together. “Can’t you hurry, Dr. Lindstrom? We have to
find
them.”

“I’m driving as fast as is safe, my dear. You know how quickly that big turn comes up on the ridge road. And I don’t want to—”

His head angled forward. “There. Did you see that flash of light fur, up the hill to the right?”

Caro had seen it. She could have sworn it was the white cat, scrambling up the overgrown slope. Without a thought she unlocked her door, a flashlight gripped in her hand. “Stop, Dr. Lindstrom. I’m going after them.”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort. I’ll park and come with you.” The big wheels had barely come to a halt when Caro was running across the damp grass, heading toward the hillside. She saw another flash of white under a tree where the forest began. The growth was dense here, if she remembered correctly. And the slope stopped abruptly at a big ridge overlooking the coast.

Her heart began to pound. “We have to hurry.” Her voice broke. “We can’t let them get away.”

Peter aimed his light across the ground in front of her. She lost her footing in the wet bushes and fell sideways, biting back a cry of pain as she landed on her right forearm. But she didn’t stop, didn’t even brush the dirt off her hands and face as she ran headlong up the hill, focused on the spot where she had last seen Bacall.

If only she had been faster. If only she had all her strength and her muscle control back, she could have caught the cat. And with Bacall in her arms, the dog might have returned freely.

If only.

If only.

Another flash of movement. Caro caught sight of a second shape. At least Bogie and Bacall were together. They would be safer that way.

As the moon broke from behind tattered clouds, she had a sudden glimpse of trees at the top of the ridge. On the far side of the slope, gray boulders gave way abruptly to cliffs above the interstate. Beyond that lay the sea.

Suddenly the clouds parted. Light bathed the trees and Caro saw two animals poised at the very top of the ridge. The big retriever was frozen with tension, staring down at the distant line of the interstate.

Caro had a strange flash of understanding. This had been the way that Gage had left Summer Island. The anxious dog had tracked Gage’s faint scent, trying desperately to find him.

Ignoring the ache at her hands where she had fallen, she moved quietly through the high grass and sank down beside Bogart. She opened her hand on the dog’s head, trying to offer a measure of comfort, which she needed just as much as Gage’s animals did.

“It’s okay, honey. We’ll get him back. He’s going to make it home fine. And so are we. That’s not a promise, that’s an order.” Her voice broke as Gage’s cat let out a restless cry and then turned, crawling into her lap.

Wind roared up from the sea, tearing at Caro’s face. But they were together now. Caro would fight and defend them, the same way Gage was fighting and defending far away.

Be careful, my love.

The words seemed to well up from deep inside her, drawn from emotions that were still too new to name or recognize. She felt Bogie’s body strain against her as he pushed at her hand, trying to move closer to the cliff, but she held him firm, speaking quiet words of reassurance. At last the dog seemed to relax.

He lay down beside Caro, his head across her knee
next to Bacall, with the cold wind riffling his thick fur. And that was the way Peter Lindstrom found them a few moments later as he strode up through the trees.

T
he television was filled with news of earthquakes and growing violence in Afghanistan. Caro kept a constant vigil over the next forty-eight hours, manning the news broadcasts while she listened for any emails from Gage. But nothing came.

To distract herself, Caro went to Peter’s house to spend extra time with Gage’s pets and then she did a double set of hand exercises. When nothing else could calm her, she curled up in a big wing chair overlooking the ocean and sketched from memory.

First she captured Bogart, jumping for Gage’s Frisbee. Next came Bacall, golden in a bar of afternoon sunlight, rolling onto her back with her paws in the air as she slept.

Finally Caro sketched the dark image of the two pets huddled on the edge of the cliff, staring down at the road where Gage had left Summer Island.

“That last one is good, Caro. Actually, it’s beyond good. I think I may have a buyer for it, if you’re interested. She collects animal pieces for her gallery up in Seattle.”

“No, Gran. This one’s not for sale. None of them are.” Caro didn’t add that these designs would be for Gage when he came home.
Not if but when,
she thought fiercely. She’d give them to him along with the knitting she’d been working on for him every day.

She put down her pencil and stretched her cramped muscles. “Have there been any updates from Afghanistan?”

“Nothing concrete. There’s something big going on, that much is clear. But no one has any details—or if they do they’re not broadcasting them over public news channels. For obvious reasons.” Caro’s grandmother hesitated. “I might as well tell you. I put in a call to an old friend in Washington and asked if he could help find out about Gage’s situation. With his connections, I think we may have an answer soon.”

Morgan turned as the phone rang in the kitchen. “That’s probably Peter. He was worried about us.”

When Morgan came back, her face wore a dogged expression. “Let me look at your hands.”

“Why? I’m fine, Gran. There were only a few scratches after I tripped in the mud. Maybe one or two bruises.”

“Since you’re doing fine, you won’t mind me having a look.” Before Caro could move back, Morgan gently pulled up the sleeves of Caro’s robe.

The wild chase to recover Gage’s pets had left faint bruises and jagged welts when she had fallen. Peter had bandaged them for her, but Caro had been too worried to pay attention since then.

Sighing irritably, Morgan McNeal took a medicine kit from the counter. “Fine, do you call it?” Shaking her head, Caro’s grandmother began to apply a salve that Peter had given them.

“Is that veterinary salve that Peter gave me, Gran?”

“Yes, it is. Peter swears by this stuff. And if it’s good enough for million-dollar racehorses cut during a training session, it should be good enough for you. Though frankly, I doubt any horse is as difficult a patient as you are.”

They continued to grumble and bicker as Morgan tended to Caro’s arm. It was easier that way. Grumbling helped them forget their growing worry about Gage and his men.

When the phone rang, Caro ran to answer. A stranger’s voice echoed through faint static. “Is this Ms. McNeal? Caro McNeal?”

“Yes. I’m Caro. Who is this?”

There was a pause. Papers rustled. “I’m a friend. I know that you are looking for news about Lieutenant Grayson, Ms. McNeal.”

Caro felt her heart pound. “Yes?” she whispered. “Gage—is he okay?”

“There’s not a great deal I can tell you right now. The details are classified. I can tell you that he was involved in hostile action.”

“Please tell me how he is. I
have
to
know
.”

The man made an irritated sound. “It isn’t good over there. Communications are in disarray. The earthquake has left some areas in rubble.” Caro heard a chair creak. “I can’t give you any more details.”

“What are you trying to tell me? Is Gage hurt? Is he—” Caro’s hand closed into a fist.
No
. She refused to consider the darkest of possibilities.

“What I am trying to tell you, Ms. McNeal, is that things are…in flux. Now that I have your direct number, I’ll update you as much as possible,” the man said grimly. “And I don’t think I need to tell you that this conversation
is highly confidential. Use utmost discretion in sharing what I have told you. Definitely not with members of the press.”

“I understand. I’ll be here. Please call me at this number anytime, whenever you have news. And thank you—thank you for telling me whatever you can.”

Before Caro could ask anything else, the line went dead.

Caro kept her cell phone beside her at all times now. She carried it in her pocket when she took Bacall and Bogart outdoors. She had it beside her when she took her physical therapy. It sat on the sink when she showered. If anyone else called her, Caro cut off the call immediately. Meanwhile, Peter and Morgan helped her screen the news channels, watching for updates.

On the third day after her mystery call, her cell phone rang just as she was settling into sleep.

“H-hello? Yes?”

“Ms. McNeal. I have some news.”

Caro struggled upright, hugging her pillow to her chest. Her heart was pounding so loud she heard it above the sound of his voice.

It was him.
Her mystery caller.

“Yes. I’m—here.”

“Your lieutenant is alive.”

Caro felt her breath whoosh out in a wave. Her hands clutched at the pillow and she swallowed hard. “Thank you so much,” she managed to rasp. “What can I do to help? Tell me. Anything.”

A chair creaked, just like before. Caro heard someone talking in the background. Then the talking stopped. “Well, I do have an idea, Ms. McNeal. It’s rather unusual.
But perhaps we live in unusual times. How soon can you get ready to travel?”

She started to ask who and where and what for. Then Caro cut off the questions. None of that mattered. Not one single thing. Whatever, wherever, she would go.

“Right now. Ten minutes. I’ve had a travel bag packed ever since you called. I’ve been waiting—hoping for news.”

The man chuckled. “Smart one, aren’t you? He told me that about you.” Caro heard papers rustling. “Do you still have those two animals with you? Lieutenant Grayson’s pets?”

Caro had expected
any
question but this one. “Yes. They’re with our local vet, but he’s just across town. It’s very close.”

“Okay.” Papers rustled again. More voices came and then faded. “Well, then, you’re on. Here’s what I want you to do, Ms. McNeal.” The man’s voice took on an edge of authority, the sound of someone accustomed to a command position. “You’ll need to move quickly, so get yourself a pen and take some notes. Give my regards to your grandmother, too, if you will. We were in college together.” He laughed dryly. “About two centuries ago. I was the one in the yellow sweater. She’ll remember. Now—do you have that pen ready?”

“Yes.” Caro’s head was spinning as she grabbed a notebook. “I’m ready.”

“Good. First go and get Lieutenant Grayson’s animals. Then here’s who you need to call.”

“W
hat do you mean, go for a trip? Go
where?
Caro, are you feeling okay? I know you’re worried about Gage, but—”

“Gran, I can’t explain. I just need to go now.
Right now.
” Caro tossed an extra sweater into her suitcase, then zipped it shut. “I can’t answer any questions. I’m sorry, Gran. I need you to trust me.”

“Of course I trust you, honey. But why—” Morgan’s eyes narrowed as she saw Caro carefully check the recent calls on her cell phone. “Someone called you a few minutes ago. You’re going because of that, aren’t you? Because of something you found out?”

“I—” Caro ran a hand over her eyes. “I can’t tell you anything, Gran. That was part of the deal. But he did say to give you his regards.”

“He?”

“The man who called me said he knew you in college. He said to tell you he was the one with the yellow sweater.”

Morgan gave a soft laugh. “It’s been years, but that boy was always a mover and a shaker. He had quite a little crush on me, too, back then.
Not
to brag.” Morgan
squared her shoulders. “If Harris is involved, everything will be fine. I’m going to get packed. I’ll be ready to leave in fifteen minutes.”

Caro picked up her bag and shook her head. Her grandmother’s past was colorful and Caro knew only a small part of it. Clearly Harris, the mystery man, was an important person. Caro wondered what their true connection was.

She would have long hours to ponder that question. Her driving instructions had been very clear. “Sorry, but you can’t come, Gran. I’m taking Gage’s pets with me. It’s part of the deal.”

“You’re driving?” Morgan crossed her arms, looking worried.

“That’s what he told me to do.”

“Then I’ll fly and meet you there,” Morgan said firmly. “Just where are we going?”

Within half an hour Gage’s pets were stowed safely and Caro was on the road. Despite her protests, Peter had insisted on following Caro to the state line. After that he was going to drive Morgan to the airport.

Bogart and Bacall knew something important was happening. Once they were inside the car, the big dog kept moving between the seats, licking Caro energetically and whining. Bacall meowed for ten minutes, then curled up on Gage’s old T-shirt and went to sleep.

They crossed the mountains and headed south. Caro gave a prayer of thanks that her last cast had finally been removed. After a fair amount of arguing, Peter waved goodbye to her at the Oregon state line, and she drove on into the darkness.

As the miles flowed past, Caro felt her life hurtling
forward, taking new shapes that couldn’t be seen clearly yet. But she felt fearless now, welcoming each change, full of joy and a certainty that Gage would be part of that future.

Southern California

Caro had never seen anything as wonderful as the sunlight gleaming off the Pacific near San Diego. She was restless and full of energy after too many cups of coffee as she studied the tile roofs and palm trees of Balboa Park.

San Diego.

This was the place.

Caro pulled out her cell phone and the name of her contact. She scratched Bogart’s head and laughed as the dog tried to wedge his body between her and the side window. “Calm down, honey. We’re almost there. You’ve been a real trooper, and our trip is nearly over.”

Her heart hammered. “Let’s get ready to see Gage.”

Caro took several hours to rest and shower at a hotel near the freeway. Then she gave Bogart a good run and dressed carefully. Suddenly nervous, she paced in front of the mirror.

Was her sweater too tight? Or was it tight enough? And her hair—more tousled? Or less?

She wanted to look nice—but a little sexy. Okay, a lot sexy. Gage had seen her last with a cast. Not very pretty.

Half an hour later Caro’s grandmother arrived from the airport, and after a quick hug, she nodded approval at Caro’s choice of clothes.

“You look lovely, honey. I love that red sweater, but only leave the top three buttons open. Any more than that, and you’ll be a medical hazard.”

Clutching her handwritten directions, Caro drove the last mile to the Naval Medical Center, waited for gate security to let her through, and then parked. While Morgan held Gage’s cat, Caro leashed the golden retriever for the short walk to the small garden where they had been directed to wait.

Five minutes passed. Nurses and attendants moved by them, smiling and nodding at the animals. Caro tossed Bogart his rope pull toy. “Your friend said someone would meet us here, Gran. I texted him when we got to the gate, the way he said.”

“Great dog you have.” Two wounded soldiers moved past on crutches, stopping to pet Bogart. Three more appeared. Soon Caro had a noisy group of patients clustered around her.

Bogart was restless, but gloried in all the attention, running through the commands that Peter and Caro had taught him over the past weeks. Caro managed the dog, while Bacall reluctantly accepted a leash, too, which produced even more comments.

“No animals on military grounds, ma’am. Not unless those are officially licensed service animals.”

Morgan heard a clipped voice behind her. She cleared her throat. “They were approved.”

“By whom?”

As she pulled Bacall away from a rosebush, Morgan had a sideways glimpse of a tall man, white hair, rows of medals against a navy uniform. “You want a name?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As Morgan watched the distinguished officer walk
toward them, recognition hit. “Harris? My heavens, I wouldn’t have recognized you. So many medals. And you’re just as handsome as ever.”

The lean face softened. “And you are just as lethally beautiful, Morgie.”

“Morgie. Dear heaven, it’s been decades since anyone called me that.” Morgan gripped Bacall’s leash and watched the circle around Caro grow larger. Someone brought out a camera with a big flash. “You arranged this all very well, Harris. Knowing you, there is an excellent reason. So tell me.”

“Morale, maybe. Or doing an old friend a favor. Maybe both.”

“Good answer. Is Gage—is he here?”

Her old friend watched a second soldier pull out a camera. “They’re enjoying this, I’d say. Your granddaughter looks very good at making strangers feel comfortable.”

“Yes, she is. But you didn’t answer my question, Harris.
Where
is Gage Grayson?”

The distinguished officer pointed to the far side of the garden. “Several of those men are from his squad. Several others didn’t make it back. Things went bad fast, Morgie. Too many casualties. Without First Lieutenant Grayson, the statistics would have been a whole lot worse. We
all
owe him. I don’t forget things like that,” he said gruffly. His eyes darkened as he looked at her. “In fact, there are a lot of things I don’t forget.”

Caro felt Bogart tug at his leash, swinging around sharply. The men around her laughed as the dog pranced back and forth, tail wagging furiously.

She didn’t see the small crowd behind her part. She didn’t see the shadow that fell over her shoulder.

“Bogart, sit. Be good and sit, honey. It shouldn’t be long now.”

Caro smoothed her sweater nervously while Gage’s retriever turned in a frenzied circle, barking and ignoring every command.

“Honey, settle down.”

A hand opened on her shoulder.

Startled, Caro looked up. She forgot about her surroundings and the crowd gathered around her.

Her heart twisted in her chest.

He was thinner. Tougher. His face was lined and sunburned. In one glance, Caro felt as if she had come home to a place she had searched for forever, a place where this man waited, with his laugh threading through her dreams and his touch wound right around her heart.

His laugh was hoarse. Its strength filled her, just as the feel of his arms around her waist left her dizzy. In a moment she was caught against his chest while Bogart barked furiously, shoving his way between their bodies.

“I have your pictures,” Gage whispered, his face against her hair, his hands locked on her waist. “I had them with me for three days, out on a ridge at the back of nowhere.” He held out a crumpled, dusty computer printout. Caro saw that it was her sketch of Bacall, sleeping on her back in the sunlight. “And you told me you couldn’t draw,” he said in a low, rough voice.

Someone laughed. “Kiss her, Lieutenant. Go on. Stop talking already.”

Gage pressed the paper into Caro’s hand. “I kept it with me all the time. I could feel you when I touched it. I carried it inside my jacket day and night.” His voice tightened
and then he reached down, laughing when Bogart licked his hand wildly, with the full measure of a pet’s unstinting love. He laughed again when he caught sight of the clumsily knit bandanna tied jauntily around his dog’s neck—Caro’s gift to him. Bacall was staring up at him, eyes huge.

A video camera whirred, but neither Gage nor Caro cared, oblivious to everything but each other.

Caro held out a navy blue wool hat with a misshapen, irregular brim. She smiled crookedly. “Here’s your gift. It’s pretty ugly, I’m afraid, but I promise that a lot of work went into it.”

“I love it.” Gage pulled her closer. “I would have called you, but they wouldn’t let me talk. There was an explosion and I got buried. My throat was messed up. And then—well, I didn’t want to write down words and have someone else say them to you.”

“It sounds very sexy. I like it.”

Gage traced her cheek with a bandaged hand. “Strongest woman I ever met,” he said huskily.

His mouth skimmed hers and he took another raw breath. “I love you, Caro. Bogart and Bacall—we all love you. I think I loved you from the first second I saw you in that doorway back in Oregon, with dust on your cheek and sunlight in your hair.” He kissed her hard. “We all want to make our life part of yours. Now and forever.” His eyes were dark, searching her face. “Is that going to be a problem?”

Now and forever.

Caro smiled up at him, loving the feel of his hands and the little lines at the corners of his eyes. She felt dizzy and alive in a way she’d never thought was possible. “Now and forever, Lieutenant? That sounds like a good mission
plan to me. You’d have to fight hard to get those two guys back now anyway. They walked into my life and charmed me right off my feet. So you’ve got your now and forever. But…”

Gage didn’t move. “But?”

Caro slid her fingers through his hair. She watched his eyes take on depth and emotion. With a deep breath, she leaned closer, her future laid out before her.

Attitude was everything.

“My only problem right now…well, like the man just said, Gage. Why don’t you stop talking and kiss me again?”