Betrayal

TARA DROVE IN SILENCE for about six blocks before she pulled over and stopped the car. "I don't think I can drive anymore," she said.

"I'll take it."

She looked over at him for the first time since he'd gotten in with her. "Are you hurt?"

"No."

"What happened to them?"

"I don't know. They got tangled up in each other and that must have slowed them down enough to give me a minute to come running."

After a minute, she said, "We could have been killed, couldn't we?"

"I don't know about that. I think maybe they were trying to feel us out, that's all. They didn't have guns. They probably would have just taken our money and other stuff if we would have let them."

She sat still and allowed the silence to gather there in the confined space. Then, letting out a staggered breath, she opened the car door and got out. Nolan took the cue and did the same on his side, waiting for her to get in the passenger seat before he closed the door behind her. Behind the wheel, he belted up and got back into traffic.

"God," she said after a while. "You're sure you're all right? I can't believe that just happened. It was so fast. Just suddenly they were there."

"Yeah. That's how it happens." He glanced across at her. "I shouldn't have parked there. I should have known better. I wasn't thinking. I'm so sorry."

"You don't need to be sorry. It wasn't your fault. In fact, if you hadn't been there…"

But he shook his head. "Then you wouldn't have been there. You would have parked at the valet station like any other thinking human being."

"Well, still…" She hugged her arms to herself. "God, I just can't stop shaking."

"It's okay," he said. "It's just adrenaline." He took his right hand off the wheel and held it out. "If it'll help," he said, "here's a hand you can hold."

It took her a moment to decide. She took in a breath and let it out, then reached over and put her hand in his, bringing both hands over the gear-shift and into her lap, then covering them with her other hand. "Thank you," she said. "That helps."

***

THERE WAS NO ARGUMENT about whether he should walk with her to her door. She opened it, flicked on the inside light, and turned back toward him, her face reflecting her turmoil. Breaking a weak, somehow apologetic smile, she started to raise her hand then let it fall. "I was going to say, 'Thank you, I had a good time,' but"-she met his eyes-"I'm a little confused right now. Is that all right?"

"That's fine," Nolan said.

"I'm going to read Evan's letters."

"As well you should."

"I don't want you to think I'm being ungrateful."

"Why would I think that?"

"Well, for saving my life and everything. For being a warrior."

That brought the trace of a smile. "I wondered if that had occurred to you. But you don't owe me anything, Tara, and certainly nothing for that." He gently chucked her chin with his index finger. "Don't you worry about me. I'm fine. You've just had a trauma you're going to need to process. It's okay. You're home now. Have a good night." And with that, he came forward, quickly kissed her cheek, and backed away. "Close the door," he said. "That's an order."

***

UNABLE TO SLEEP, she finally got to the letters.

They were from Evan's heart and soul. The way she remembered him came through loud and clear in every one-mostly chatty and irreverent, but then always there with the real stuff at the end. He missed her. He loved her and wanted them to try again when he got home.

When.

But it wasn't when, she knew. It was if. There was no certainty that he'd come back alive or in one piece. She couldn't shake the idea that even as she was reading his words, he might already be dead. She wasn't about to commit to him again and then have him die over there. There would be no commitment, she knew, until they were back together in person, until these philosophical issues had been resolved one way or the other. To give him hope before that would just be counterproductive and stupid.

Tara was reading in her bed with blankets over her, wearing pajamas and her warmest bathrobe against her continued shivering, even though it was a balmy night in Redwood City. Finally, she put down the latest letter-it was the fifth or sixth one she'd read-and closed her eyes, trying to picture the Evan she had known in her mind, trying to dredge up a feeling from the time when she'd thought they were the perfect couple, that they'd marry and have a family and a wonderful life together. It wasn't coming easy.