poor family…”
“Yeah, they’ve suffered more than anyone,” Morgan ground out. “A year ago I was climbing a cliff face with my company when the rope broke. I fell thirty feet to the ground and struck my head. Luckily I had a helmet on, or I’m sure it would have split open my skull,” he said ruefully. “But what the accident did was slowly start to bring my memory back. I’d been seeing the faces of certain people in my dreams for the six previous years, and never knew who they were. Now I knew. They were my parents, my brother, Noah, and my sister, Aly.”
“And did you contact General Armstrong once you knew the truth?”
“I did. The CIA operative I’d been working with in Marseilles from time to time suddenly disappeared. I called the Pentagon to talk with General Kip Young, who had been my battalion commander back in 1970, but no one would talk to me.” Morgan got up and paced the kitchen. “For the rest of the year, I wondered what the hell to do. I knew from what little I’d investigated about myself that I’d been branded the consummate traitor to this country. And then two weeks ago I got a phone call from the commandant of the Legion. He ordered me to fly to D.C., and wouldn’t say why. Of course I had to follow orders. When I got stateside, I found out that Armstrong was dying. He wanted to see me to tell me that sometimes one good man had to be sacrificed for a dedicated group of military officers.”
Her heart squeezed with anguish at the hardness and tension in Morgan’s face. “Was Armstrong going to clear you?”
“Hell, no!” Morgan exploded, halting in the center of the kitchen. “The bastard just wanted to get things off his chest and make everything right with his Maker. Young warned me that if I tried to stay in D.C. or expose the snafu I wouldn’t get anywhere.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I wanted to see my family, but I knew that under the circumstances it was impossible. They’ve gone through enough pain and hardship for my sake. When you saw me at the airport that morning, I was tied in knots. That’s why I stepped in front of that limo without looking. I wasn’t thinking straight. I was all wrapped up in my emotions.”
Laura sat there, the shock and silence settling over her. Her mind spun with questions and possible answers. She saw him staring at her, doubt in his eyes. “I believe you, Morgan,” she hurried to assure him.
The words fell softly against his throttled anger and fear. The three words offered him hope for once, instead of despair. Laura looked diminutive sitting there, her hands tense in her lap as she gazed up in his direction. “Besides my family, you’re the only other person who ever would,” Morgan responded bitterly.
Laura got to her feet and walked slowly in his direction, pretending she was still blind by holding out her hand. She lifted her arms once she made contact with Morgan, placing them around his sagging shoulders. There was incredible tension in him as she pressed herself against him. “You’re the bravest man I’ve ever met,” she whispered against his ear. “And you’re so tired….”
Just Laura’s sweet contact broke Morgan. With a groan he swept his arms around her, nearly crushing her. He buried his face in her hair, a sob trying to wrench from deep within him. But he held it back as he always did. He felt her belief in him shatter all his bitterness.
“Just let me hold you,” Laura crooned, beginning to stroke his short, black hair with her trembling fingers.
Morgan’s world spun around Laura, the strength of her slight form against him giving him sustenance, when he’d had so little the past seven years. He felt her slender arms holding him more firmly, offering solace. The pain in his heart was transformed, and a ragged sigh broke from the tortured line of his mouth.
“You’re so damn giving,” Morgan rasped, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I couldn’t believe you’d stepped out in
“Yeah, they’ve suffered more than anyone,” Morgan ground out. “A year ago I was climbing a cliff face with my company when the rope broke. I fell thirty feet to the ground and struck my head. Luckily I had a helmet on, or I’m sure it would have split open my skull,” he said ruefully. “But what the accident did was slowly start to bring my memory back. I’d been seeing the faces of certain people in my dreams for the six previous years, and never knew who they were. Now I knew. They were my parents, my brother, Noah, and my sister, Aly.”
“And did you contact General Armstrong once you knew the truth?”
“I did. The CIA operative I’d been working with in Marseilles from time to time suddenly disappeared. I called the Pentagon to talk with General Kip Young, who had been my battalion commander back in 1970, but no one would talk to me.” Morgan got up and paced the kitchen. “For the rest of the year, I wondered what the hell to do. I knew from what little I’d investigated about myself that I’d been branded the consummate traitor to this country. And then two weeks ago I got a phone call from the commandant of the Legion. He ordered me to fly to D.C., and wouldn’t say why. Of course I had to follow orders. When I got stateside, I found out that Armstrong was dying. He wanted to see me to tell me that sometimes one good man had to be sacrificed for a dedicated group of military officers.”
Her heart squeezed with anguish at the hardness and tension in Morgan’s face. “Was Armstrong going to clear you?”
“Hell, no!” Morgan exploded, halting in the center of the kitchen. “The bastard just wanted to get things off his chest and make everything right with his Maker. Young warned me that if I tried to stay in D.C. or expose the snafu I wouldn’t get anywhere.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I wanted to see my family, but I knew that under the circumstances it was impossible. They’ve gone through enough pain and hardship for my sake. When you saw me at the airport that morning, I was tied in knots. That’s why I stepped in front of that limo without looking. I wasn’t thinking straight. I was all wrapped up in my emotions.”
Laura sat there, the shock and silence settling over her. Her mind spun with questions and possible answers. She saw him staring at her, doubt in his eyes. “I believe you, Morgan,” she hurried to assure him.
The words fell softly against his throttled anger and fear. The three words offered him hope for once, instead of despair. Laura looked diminutive sitting there, her hands tense in her lap as she gazed up in his direction. “Besides my family, you’re the only other person who ever would,” Morgan responded bitterly.
Laura got to her feet and walked slowly in his direction, pretending she was still blind by holding out her hand. She lifted her arms once she made contact with Morgan, placing them around his sagging shoulders. There was incredible tension in him as she pressed herself against him. “You’re the bravest man I’ve ever met,” she whispered against his ear. “And you’re so tired….”
Just Laura’s sweet contact broke Morgan. With a groan he swept his arms around her, nearly crushing her. He buried his face in her hair, a sob trying to wrench from deep within him. But he held it back as he always did. He felt her belief in him shatter all his bitterness.
“Just let me hold you,” Laura crooned, beginning to stroke his short, black hair with her trembling fingers.
Morgan’s world spun around Laura, the strength of her slight form against him giving him sustenance, when he’d had so little the past seven years. He felt her slender arms holding him more firmly, offering solace. The pain in his heart was transformed, and a ragged sigh broke from the tortured line of his mouth.
“You’re so damn giving,” Morgan rasped, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I couldn’t believe you’d stepped out in
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