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room, filling a tub for her bath.
    “Come on, let’s get you cleaned
up.” Inez led Toni into the room and closed the door.
    The woman helped Toni get cleaned
up and tended her wounds. They didn’t speak much, but Toni sensed Inez wanted
to say something. After Toni and Mac had broken off their engagement, it had
made things rather difficult in light of the fact that Eric and Mac were best
friends. It didn’t help that Toni adored Hank and Inez. Toni’s parents had felt
the same about Mac. They’d been killed two months before the breakup and Toni
hadn’t spoken to Mac again, until Eric’s funeral. How she wished they had
something joyous to celebrate instead of all this sadness.
    When Inez left Toni alone for a few
minutes, she slouched in the warm, sudsy water, her mind weighted with unease.
Now she was here, she had so many things she must tell Mac, but where to begin?
How could she ask for his help without dredging up the past and hurting him
even more?
    She curled her aching fingers
against her bruised palms. Urgency coiled inside her when she thought of Eric’s
last letter and the possible ramifications it might have on all of their lives.
Somehow she knew nothing would ever be the same.
     
    * * *
     
    If Mac could walk decently, he’d
pace the floor. Instead, he shifted his weight in the recliner, the throbbing
of his leg a constant reminder that he had to face Toni sooner or later.
    Thirty long minutes passed while
Mom tended her wounds. When Inez came out carrying a basin of bloodied water,
Mac gripped the armrests of the recliner.
    “Is she gonna be okay?” he asked.
    Inez nodded. “She’s mighty lucky.
She’ll join us in a few minutes.”
    Hank took the basin of water
outside and dumped it far away so it wouldn’t draw animals to the cabin. When
he returned, he helped Inez set the table. Mac felt useless as he watched them
lay out tin plates and utensils, but his leg throbbed and he doubted he should
stand on it again tonight.
    Minutes later, Toni appeared
dressed in a clean pair of Mom’s old blue jeans, a warm sweatshirt, and a pair
of pink fuzzy slippers. Her pale face glowed in the firelight, her long blond
hair brushed back in soft, curling waves. The sight of her brought a shot of
warmth to Mac’s heart. He still loved her, and that hurt most of all. He looked
away, remembering this was Eric’s sister. The woman Mac had wanted to marry.
When he tried to stand, his stiff leg wouldn’t hold him and he fell back in the
chair.
    “Feeling better?” he asked Toni,
trying to smile.
    “Much better.” She answered stiffly
as she sat across the room in another stuffed chair.
    “Did Mom wrap your ribcage?”
    She nodded, cradling one arm
against her injured side.
    “You trimmed your hair. At the
funeral, it looked longer.”
    She blinked, seeming surprised that
he’d noticed. “Yes, I got the split ends trimmed.”
    “It looks good.” He resisted the
urge to sit beside her and caress the bruise on her forehead. Seeing her again
and not being able to touch her was pure torture, but he no longer had a right.
He’d hurt her so much. And he didn’t want to hurt her anymore.
    She hesitated. “We need to talk,
Mac.”
    His insides churned. He didn’t want
to face her questions until he knew for sure what had happened that night in
Afghanistan. Yet, he couldn’t help wondering why she’d come here. What did she
want from him? He glanced at his parents, who pretended not to be listening. He
knew better. They could hear every word. “After supper, we’ll have some time to
speak in private.”
    With her usual efficiency, Inez
placed a crockery bowl of butter and strawberry preserves next to a basket of
warm biscuits. She clasped a hot pad, then lifted the Dutch oven from the fire
before setting it on more hot pads in the middle of the oak table. “Mac, you
stay right there and keep that leg propped up. I’ll bring you some food.”
    Relieved he wouldn’t have to jar
his aching leg again,