"Doc, it's just a graze. Really," I argued.

"Katie-Lynn, take it off so I can see, or I'm cutting it off," he answered, staring at me, unblinking, with those other-worldly eyes. "There's no one else here. It's just us, so no one is gonna see you but me. I have to fix it."

The truth was that I'd have felt better about stripping down had there been a room full of men. It was being alone with Eugene Roe that completely unnerved me.

I'd had a crush on him when we started working together as medics at Toccoa. As time went by, and training turned into war, that crush had bloomed into love. I loved his soft Cajun accent, and the way he said my name. I loved that we could almost communicate without speaking. I loved the quiet passion with which he went about taking care of the men, and the way he spoke that made you never doubt anything that he said.

Of course, I made sure not to let any of this show around him. Eugene Roe was entirely too practical, and he'd never get involved with someone in the middle of a war, much less a fellow paratrooper. For all I knew, he had a girl back home in Louisiana. He wasn't really one to talk about such things, even with me.

I'd worked so hard to hide this crush, and now here I was, blushing from head to toe as I stripped down to my bra and underwear in front of him so that he could inspect a graze wound I'd received from the asshole that had nearly killed Sgt. Grant. Grant was in surgery, and Doc and I had been left alone as the rest of the men were out searching for the shooter.

He knelt before me, and I prayed he wouldn't notice the goosebumps as his breath fanned across my skin. If he did, he said nothing. I hissed as he cleaned the wound with iodine, and he glanced up at me with apologetic eyes.

"I'm sorry, belle, but I have to clean it so it won't get infected."

"I know, Gene. I'm okay," I answered, momentarily ignoring his slip in using a term of endearment. He was well known for never using nicknames for anyone.

"It's not too deep. A few more inches and you could have been in serious trouble, though," he told me as he finished bandaging the shallow wound and stood back up. "The other men in the truck said you probably saved Grant's life by jumping over him like that. I don't think he could've taken being shot again."

"It's not a big deal. Let's just keep that between us, okay? I just want Chuck to be alright."

"You're an amazing woman, Katie-Lynn," he told me, looking at me with those soft, ethereal eyes. "But promise me you'll look out for yourself too, bébé. I couldn't stand it if I ever had to treat you for anything worse than that."

I swallowed hard and nodded. He'd taken my hands in his, running his thumbs across my palms. There was something unfamiliar about the way he was looking at me. His usually passive gaze was warmer than usual, heating my cheeks.

"You're so important to me, and I can't believe I almost lost you…" he paused, his voice choked with emotion I wasn't used to from him. "Je ai vraiment envie de te embrasser maintenant, Katie-Lynn." His voice was almost a whisper, so low I could barely hear him. His French lessons had been enough for me to catch the gist of what he said though, and my heart pounded against my rib cage.

"Embrasse moi," I answered.

For a split-second, he looked surprised. Then he ran his hand along my cheek and jaw, catching my chin between his thumb and forefinger, leaning in to capture my lips with his. I sighed as he pulled me close, our tongues brushing each other softly, as though they'd been waiting to do so for years. In fact, they had.

As we pulled away, I sighed, "I've been waiting for that since Toccoa."

I giggled when his cheeks turned pink, but he silenced me by lifting me onto a table behind me and replying, "Belle, I've been waiting for a lot of things since Toccoa."

This kiss was rougher, and as he pressed against me, I could feel all of the want and need we had been building up between us for the past three years. When he pulled away this time, we were both breathing heavily.

Hearing a door slam outside, he leaned his forehead against mine and said, "But I guess I'm just gonna have to wait a little while longer. At least until we get home."

"We?" I asked, running my fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, we. You and me. You'll like Louisiana, Katie-Lynn," he assured me, his soft eyes burning into mine again.

"If you're in Louisiana, I'll love it," I answered, smiling at him.

He smiled back and pulled something out of his pocket. I recognized it as a ring said he'd found while we were in France. I'd seen it accidentally one day, getting something out of his bag for him. He'd told me that he'd sent it home to his sister, and I hadn't seen it since.

"This ring belonged to my grandmother," he told me, and seeing the confused look on my face, continued, "I know what I told you before, and I'm sorry I lied. I got it the day you found it, and it kind of shocked me. When you found it, I wasn't really sure about it yet, and didn't know how to explain. My sister sent it to me in a letter."

"Why did she send it here?"

He didn't answer, instead handing me a piece of paper that looked like it'd been unfolded and refolded many times. I took it from him and began to read.

My dear brother,

I've gotten all your letters, and I've been reading those that you've sent home to our parents. I'm so happy to hear from you. To know that you are alive and well in this dreadful war. We hear the stories, and see the men coming back home with such horrible wounds. I often wonder if you may have been the one who kept some of them alive. You always did have our grandma's touch.

You speak often in your letters about this nurse who is with you. I must tell you, Eugene, your admiration for her shows through the paper. In fact, it only seems to grow from letter to letter. You are clearly in love with her, even if you have not yet admitted it to yourself. It sounds as if you may have found your other half, my brother, and I am so happy for you.

I am sending you our grandmother's ring because I get the overwhelming feeling that you are going to want to put it on this woman's finger by the time this war is over, and I don't want you to have to wait until you bring her home. That's what Grandma would have wanted. You'll know when you're ready to use it. I can't wait to meet her. Be safe and I love you.

Your sister

I was fighting tears as I finished the letter, asking, "You wrote to your family about me?"

I trailed off as I put the page down and saw that he had knelt in front of me. The tears came freely now, and Eugene Roe took my hand in his, kissing it and sliding the ring onto my finger.

Épouse-moi, belle," he said quietly. "My sister was right. I want this ring on your finger, as my wife."

I nodded through my tears, and he stood up and kissed me deeply. After I had dressed, we walked out into the foyer, where several of the men were leading a bloody young private away. I could only assume he was the shooter. I heard Spiers say that Grant was going to make it, and then he turned his attention to me.

"How about you, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Are you okay?"

"Yes sir."

"Glad to hear it. I'm sure Doc took good care of you, as one always should with the woman they love," he answered, winking at me. "Nice ring. About time he put it on your finger. He's been holding on to it long enough."

"How did you know?" I asked, and he flashed me a brilliant smile.

"That's my job. I knew he was in love with you before he knew. Besides, I was there when he opened the letter, and he asked me what I thought. I told him that he was at the front of a long line, and that if he didn't marry you, one of these other guys would jump at the chance. Including me." Another wink, and he strode away.

The man was full of surprises.

Je ai vraiment envie de te embrasser maintenant – I really want to kiss you now

Embrasse moi – Kiss me

Épouse-moi, belle – Marry me, beautiful