Page 78 of All We Carry Home

“Eddie’s still mad at you for that.”

“Well, to be honest,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck, still able to feel the scar from the stray bullet that almost took my life, “I should have listened to him.”

She fell silent, kicking at a small pebble on the sidewalk.

“What was the Pacific like?” I asked. “Compared to what you saw in Kötzting?”

“Humid.” Her head lolled to the side as she seemed to drift back to those islands. “So many bugs. So many injured. I wasn’t sure any of us would ever make it out of there.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said. I’d spent enough time at field hospitals with my injured soldiers that I knew well what the nurses faced and the horrible burden they bore.

“I thought things would be different.” She stopped walking and faced me. “Coming home. I’m not sure I really left those islands behind.”

My throat was thick with emotion. “I know what you mean.”

“At least you and your men were able to make such a difference at the end.” Her eyes lit up. “Saving those horses. Phantom. Mira.”

“I’ve still got some of my contacts looking for her.” I held up a finger. “We’ll find her.”

Her gaze shifted from my face to a spot in the distance behind me, and she moved slightly closer, her smile suddenly wooden. “Don’t react,” she whispered, meeting my eyes once more. The light humor had gone serious, though she feigned the same playful smile. “We’re being followed.”

I nodded. “Since 5th Street.”

She blinked. “You knew this whole time?”

“Don’t worry.” I slipped my arm through hers to continue our stroll as if nothing were amiss. The closeness was even more tantalizing and befuddling to my brain. “You’re safe with me.”

She put her hand over my arm, relaxed and natural. Was she going along with the act? Or did we just happen to fit together this perfectly? “I do trust you,” she said, her voice shifting back to that teasing tone. “Despite the other stories Eddie has told me about you.”

“Now, if he’s told you about that time in Italy, I’ll kill him.”

“Not yet, but I’ll ask.” She hummed. “That leave you took in Cairo, though?”

“Lies. Utter lies.”

Her laughter floated over me and tangled around my heart. Despite the lingering threat in the shadows behind us, I didn’t want this night to end.

Twenty

Eva

JUNE 9

The crowd around the arena wall drew a collective breath as Phantom entered the smaller warm-up area, only a few moments from his debut in the in-hand yearling class. He was years away from the more prestigious stallion age bracket, but the colt yearlings were watched carefully for that next breakout champion. I’d also be showing him on the ground rather than riding. He was still two years from being old enough to break into the saddle.

I was at ease in my pressed, sky-blue blazer and matching slacks. My boots were painted to match, and my hair was swept into large curls and pinned back. I had adorned my face in blush, liner, and lipstick—part of the pageantry and drama that was the stage of the show arena. I had tan gloves and a short crop in hand to use as a guide for Phantom.

We’d practiced for days, and I hoped he’d remember his training in this new environment. The halter, or in-hand, competitions were all about the stature and physical features of the horse. It was breeding, fitness, and presentation.

Phantom, today, was in top form. All eyes were locked on him.

All eyes except Warren’s.

When Annie and I had emerged from the hotel room that morning, he’d taken in my appearance with an appreciative look. I knew that blue drew out my eyes. Cheryl had advised me so years ago, and it often complemented the striking black or dark brown horses or shining gray horses like Phantom. Though I never wore makeup outside of the arena, Cheryl had taught me how to expertly apply it. Even after five years out of the ring, I remembered a thing or two.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Annie had said with a giggle. I’d let her use a bit of my blush and lipstick.

My heart thudded, nervous of Warren’s response. “Oh, come on,” I said, waving a hand. “Let’s get to the fairgrounds.”