The Backup Plan

Studying Cord, she asked, “Is your brother involved with someone else?”

Cord seemed to be debating the answer to that one, but he finally said, “You’ll need to ask him that yourself. I got in the middle of your business once. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Meaning he isn’t, but you wish he were,” she concluded with a little sense of triumph. Or was it relief she felt?

“No, meaning this is between the two of you,” Cord responded flatly.

His careful dance around the question echoed what Maggie had told her, which was more disconcerting than Dinah cared to admit. They both implied that they were leaving out an important truth that they thought only Bobby had a right to share with Dinah. She decided to try to get to the bottom of it, though she’d probably have better luck with Maggie than with Cord. He had a stubborn streak that Maggie didn’t share. Still, Cord was here and her best friend wasn’t. She might as well push him a little and see what happened.

“It would be between Bobby and me if you’d given him my message,” she said. “As it is, you’re right in the thick of it, Cordell. Why is that? Surely you’re not jealous.”

His low chuckle grated on her nerves. It spoke volumes about what he thought of that explanation.

“It’s not as if I’m a bad catch,” she grumbled.

“You’d be a challenge, no question about it,” he replied, his smirk still firmly in place. “In fact, if I had to comment, I’d say you’re too much woman for my brother.”

“Now who’s being insulting to Bobby?” she retorted. “Bobby can handle me.”

“Is that so? Then this ridiculous backup plan the two of you hatched was his idea? He talked you into it?”

She frowned at that. “No.”

Cord cupped his ear. “What was that? Did you say no?”

“It would never have worked if Bobby and I had gotten married ten years ago. He knew that,” she said defensively.

“But it will work now?”

“Yes.”

“Because you’ve gone round the world sowing all your wild oats, so to speak?”

“I didn’t sow any oats, dammit. It wasn’t about that,” she said, feeling her temper kick in.

“Oh, that’s right. You had to go and make a name for yourself. You wanted to be somebody special. And now what? You’re ready to settle down and be my brother’s wife and let him count his lucky stars every night that you deigned to come back to him?”

“Why are you so determined to put an ugly spin on this? I don’t have to listen to you question my motives,” she declared, whipping around to go.

“Maybe you should listen,” he said, a quiet command in his voice that compelled her to turn back. “This is all about you, Dinah. I’d wager you haven’t spent more than a minute or two thinking about what might be best for Bobby. You probably sat over there in Afghanistan and got some bee in your bonnet about your own mortality and decided it was time to come home and play it safe. Bobby’s not the love of your life. He’s just convenient.”

Because there was an undeniable element of truth to his stinging words, Dinah flinched. She searched for a ready comeback to put him in his place, but there wasn’t one.

Just then the wind kicked up. Black clouds rolled in the sky above them. Dinah could all but feel the stir of electricity in the air.

“Looks like we’re in for a storm,” Cord noted without moving a muscle. “Run along, Dinah, before you get drenched. There’s nothing for you here.”

She hated the patronizing tone in his voice as much as she hated his dismissal. She would have said so, too, then taken off, if a bolt of lightning hadn’t split the sky just then, immediately followed by a crack of thunder.

Her brain told her this was nothing more than a good old-fashioned summer storm, the kind that hit hard, turned the hard-dried ground into rivers of mud, then passed on, leaving the air steamier than ever.

But her heart and her nerves took over her rational thought and she felt immediately transported back to Afghanistan where car bombs exploded and gunfire prevailed all around. She dropped to the ground, lay on her stomach, and heard her heart pounding so hard she thought it might explode, before the first drop of rain even fell from the sky. Humiliating whimpers escaped before she could stop them.

Two seconds later Cord was beside her, gathering her into his arms, holding her tight against all his solid strength and bare skin, murmuring soothing nonsense words as the storm raged around them. Dinah clung to him, no longer caring that he was the bane of her existence. She could hear the steady beat of his heart and her own pulse finally slowed to match it. Her terror eased, but still she clung, his skin warm and slick beneath her fingers.

“Sugar, I’m going to take you inside now, okay?” Cord said, his tone surprisingly gentle. All traces of animosity and disdain had vanished. “We need to get you dried off and cleaned up, okay?”

Dinah shivered uncontrollably, but managed to nod. She prayed he couldn’t distinguish between the rain and the tears spilling down her cheeks. Given that he’d seen her take a nosedive into the dirt at the sound of thunder, it seemed absurd to worry about having him see her cry, but she still had a tiny shred of pride left.

Of all people, why had it been Cordell who witnessed her coming unglued? It was just going to give him one more thing to gloat about, one more reason to say she wasn’t good enough for his brother. He’d probably tell Bobby that he’d have to be insane to take her on.

Inside the house, Cord started to set her down in an easy chair, but Dinah couldn’t let go of him. When he realized she wasn’t going to release him, he sat in the chair himself and held her cradled against his chest.

With surprisingly gentle fingers, he brushed damp curls away from her face. When she finally risked a glance at his expression, she saw not the contempt she’d expected but a combination of understanding and tenderness. It brought more salty tears to her eyes. Cordell Beaufort’s compassion was the last thing she’d expected, the very last thing she wanted.

They sat like that for an eternity, neither of them speaking. Dinah slowly lost the sensation that she was spinning out of control. When she finally relaxed and sighed, she caught a glimpse of the satisfaction on Cord’s face. Some of the tension in his body eased, as well.

In the back of her mind, she noted with more than a little surprise that he didn’t seem interested in taking advantage of the situation. Based on his reputation, the Cord of old would have turned this into a seduction, or at least an attempt at one. He’d have considered it his duty.

“You’ve been through a rough time, huh?” he said, breaking the silence.

The note of sympathy in his voice made her eyes sting with more tears. “I can’t talk about it,” she said. She didn’t even want to think about the last year and she certainly didn’t want to discuss it with him. Of course, not talking about it hadn’t worked all that well.

“Maybe you should. It usually helps with this sort of thing. Brings the demons out of the closet, so to speak.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said disdainfully.

“You think not? The Gulf War wasn’t much of a picnic, Dinah. There were …” He hesitated, seeming to search for a word. “After-effects,” he said eventually. “There were after-effects for a lot of us.”

She blinked at that. “You were there? You had post-traumatic stress syndrome?”

He nodded, his face empty of expression. “Still do, I suppose.”

“And?”

“I survived.”

She gave him a wry look. “Apparently you don’t think what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. You could be a little more forthcoming than that.”

“It’s been more than ten years, Dinah. I’ve done my talking. I’ve put most of it behind me, at least as well as anyone ever can.”

“How?” she asked, unable to keep the plaintive note out of her voice. She hated sounding vulnerable, especially in front of Cord, but she needed to know that the dreams, the panic attacks would eventually end.

“Time, mostly.”

Dinah sighed. “I’m not sure there’s enough of that left in my lifetime.”

He gave her a faint grin. “You’re not that far over the hill, Dinah. You’ve probably got at least one or two good years left.”