Authors' Notes: Life and nature threw some curveballs at JOYS OF OCTOBER which caused a slight delay in the updating of this beautiful story. But nevertheless, ENJOY!


Chapter 10 - Flowers for a Ghost

Rachel woke up a bit disoriented, the remains of a dream on the edge of her consciousness. She closed her eyes and sank her head deeper into the pillow, trying to hold on to the dream, but it slid away.

Then memories of what had happened the day before flooded her mind, stealing her breath for a moment. It was all so unbelievable. "Rachel," she whispered the name softly, trying to rescue some sensation, any memory associated with the name, but there was nothing.

Then she heard his voice as if it were outside her door. "Come on, children, hurry up, we're late!"

She remembered that the children's room was next to hers. That's why he sounded so close.

A flush of embarrassment washed over her. She didn't know how on earth she was ever going to be able to face him again.

He doesn't know, he was sleeping. Just act normal.

Normal. Sure. Whatever that means. Damn it. She doesn't even know if she would have done something like this before, because she has no comparison parameters.

Stop worrying!

Good advice.

"Speak softly; you will wake our guest." said a voice which she recognized as Jed's.

"I'm ready, Dad." Ashley said.

"Sam, are you ready yet?"

"I'm coming, Dad," Sam shouted.

"Don't. Scream. Speak. Softly." Jed sounded mildly exasperated.

"Oh, sorry, grandpa."

She smiled, because she could practically see the boy's contrite look.

Footsteps went away and she can't hear what was said anymore.

"If anything happens, call me immediately," Tom said to his father.

The only thing that could happen was that your guest woke up with all the noise. But he knew that was not what his son wanted to hear.

"I will!" said Jed. Seeing the insecurity in his son's eyes, he added, "I would never, ever let anything happen to her."

"I know."

"Good."

Tom nodded his thanks, then he followed his kids out the door.

A few minutes later as Jed tidied up the kitchen, he heard light footsteps and turned around with a smile.

"Good morning, Jed."

"Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?"

"Quite well, thank you."

"Have a seat," he said, motioning toward the kitchen table. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Tea and toast, please."

He fixed the tea, then toasted a slice of bread and set it in front of her.

"I hope Tom and the kids didn't wake you up."

"Oh, no! I was already awake," she said, after taking a sip of tea.

The morning passed quietly, Jed was a good host and kept her entertained by telling some stories of when he was a soldier and when the children were small. She learned with sadness that the Admiral had lost siblings to the pandemic.

Around 11 a.m., someone knocked on the door. Jed was surprised; after all, he was not expecting anyone. His son had made it clear that his residence was forbidden territory until ordered otherwise. He smiled as he opened the door and found the unexpected visitor. Just like his son, Tex Nolan had a special interest in Rachel.

"Tex! it's good to see you. Please, come in." Jed said.

"Hi, Rebecca" he said. "I don't know if you remember me."

"Tex," she said his name with some hesitation. "Hi."

His smile deepened. Her British accent played like music to his ears.

After the usual greetings. They all sat down, her in a chair and the two men on the couch.

His playful way had conquered the children from the beginning. They adored their new friend and were always happy to interact with him. "The children are at school, they will be disappointed to hear that you have been here." Jed said.

"I can come back later to see them," Tex says without taking his eyes off Rachel. "But what brings me here," he says and then his hand reaches into his pocket and he takes out a bracelet," I have something that belongs to you, Rebecca."

"Why did you keep this if you thought I was dead?" She asks, sliding the bracelet around her wrist.

"Because it was yours." Tex replied simply.

She couldn't find any words to respond at the moment, touched by the fondness she saw in his eyes. They thought Rachel Scott was dead, and yet they saved her things.

"You're not one of them, I mean; you're not a military man."

"How did you find out? My hair? My beard? Or maybe my lovely personality?"

"I would not exactly use those words, but yes."

"So, you think I'm charming, huh?"

"I didn't say that." There was amusement in her gaze, the hint of a smile toying with her lips. "Are you going to answer or not?"

"I work with private security."

Tom had already told his father about how he trusts the former Gitmo guard as a soldier, that his battlefield skills had been important to winning some battles in this war. That he considers him a good man and a good friend. He cannot help but think that his son would have a serious competition for the beautiful doctor's heart.

"That explains a lot," she said

"Huh? What? Why?"

"Relaxed, maybe even a little… I don't know… just not the behavior of a soldier…"

"He can be a relentless soldier when he needs to be." Jed said.

"I do not doubt it," she said. "Your son appears to me to be an exacting man."

Tex was a bit disappointed to realize that she recognized his abilities as a soldier just because he was part of the Commodore's team. During the months they'd known each other, she had made it clear that she liked him as a friend. It was not hard to see why. Whenever she and the Captain were in the same room, their eyes sought each other. Apparently, her loss of memory had not destroyed the confidence and attraction she felt for Thomas Chandler. All he had to do now was wait for the inevitable to happen, or not.

He would always be her friend, and a man can always dream, even if the dream seems impossible to attain.

"Hope," he whispered.

"What?" Jed asked.

"I was hoping to persuade you to join me for a walk around the block." He says looking at Rachel.

"Me?" she frowned. "I… I don't think that's a good idea."

Rachel's every muscle tensed as she imagined herself outside the house and her response had been automatic.

"You don't remember me, but we were friends once. You can trust me," Tex's said, the seriousness in his voice was unmistakable.

"Go, my dear," Jed encouraged. Tom's gonna kill me when he knows that. "You need to distract yourself. It's not good for you to be locked at home with an old man the whole morning."

"I like your company, Jed," she said with a slight smile. And it was true, she felt comfortable with him from the first time she saw him. She does not know why she feels a special affection for him.

"Thank you, my dear."

"I'm not as handsome as him but I can carry a decent chat, I assure you."

She bit her lip, unable to stifle a smile. She needs to stop hiding; it's just a walk down the street, right?

"All right," she said and got up from the chair. "I'll go with you."

"Great!" Tex says with a big smile. "I'll bring her back before lunch, Jed."

"Do you live in one of the nearby houses?" She asks when they walked along the street side by side.

"Yes, with my daughter Kate, Burk you already know and the ship's engineer, Andrea Garnet. There were only a few homes for many of us, sowe had to share the space."

"Do you know Jeter?"

"Master Chief? Of course. I can vouch for him, he's a good man. Like all the men and women of Nathan James. He lives with Miller and Wolf and a teenage girl named Bertrise."

Seeing curiosity in his eyes, she felt obligated to explain herself to him. "I chose to live with him while I'm here."

"Ah! You could not have made a better choice." At least you did not choose Tom, he thought with relief.

In the last hours, she had lived in an emotional seesaw, torn between fear of the unknown and the need to know who she really is. As frightening as it may be, she has to struggle to get answers. She needs to recover her past and her memories.

"Are you okay?" Tex asked "Suddenly you were thoughtful."

"No, but I'll be fine. How far away is the cemetery from here?"

"What? Why?"

"I need to see my grave," she said.

"It's not your grave, you know," he said softly.

"I know, but my name is on it." She tries to think of how to explain but she is not sure how. "Maybe I'll get some answers there."

"The people that are there are not usually very vocal, if you understand what I mean. I personally find the cemeteries too scary."

"There is nothing scary there, people are dead."

He doesn't want to go to the cemetery. Seeing a body that he thought was hers, burned beyond all recognition and going to her funeral, had been extremely painful for him. He had not come back there.

"Exactly, the cemeteries remind us of our own mortality." And of those whom we love, he completes in thought.

"But that's where I want to go. Can you take me?"

Tex watched her as she crossed her arms, determined to get what she wanted. A look so familiar that he smiled in spite of himself.

"When he finds out about this, it's going to be my funeral," he whispers sardonically as he scratches the beard.

"You're talking about Admiral Chandler, aren't you?"

"He's got a protective streak a mile wide when it comes to you. The press is anxious to see you and…"

"I can't hide forever; in addition, I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

She could not remember who she was, but her mannerisms and her opinions were all Dr. Rachel Scott.

He laughed and said. "Independent and courageous, see, you're still you. I have an idea; wait for me here, please." Then he crossed the street and knocked on the door of one of the houses, returning with a coat and navy cap in his arms.

Seeing her interrogative gaze, he explained. "Your disguise to get out of here without the press seeing us."

"I don't know… Do you really think this will work?" she asked.

"Maybe not, but at least it will be fun," he said, giving her a wink. Rachel doesn't look convinced.

Then he adds. "Do you want to leave here, or not?"

"This is ridiculous," she protested, but slipped one arm into the sleeve and let him help her with the other as she pulled the coat around her.

Tex waited for her to close the buttons of the coat, and then handed her the cap. She wound her hair and clipped it on top. Then she pulled the cap on, stuffing her hair inside.

He asked Kara to warn Jed about the change of plans.

"How long have we known each other?" She asked casually.

"A few weeks. When Captain Chandler realized that the ship needed fuel, he stopped at the Guantanamo Bay Naval Base. I was one of the prison guards, then the only survivor, having to deal with some enemies who wanted me dead."

"Did he save your life, then?"

"Let's just say we saved each other. It was a beneficial relationship for both sides. I needed help with the prisoners, and a ride home. They needed fuel and supplies, and I had the keys to the kingdom."

"Is that how you became part of the ship's crew?"

"Yes. Then I met you, and you immediately liked me and we started a beautiful friendship."

"Immediately?" She asked, trying not to smile.

"What can I say, I'm an irresistible guy, my sense of humor always attracts girls, besides my good looks, of course."

Something in his voice sounded strangely reassuring. She does not know him, at least not this version of herself, but she feels comfortable around him.

"Do you want to hear how I met Kate's mother? And how she fell in love with me."

"Go ahead, tell me," she said.

"She had long beautiful blonde hair which hung half way down her back and beautiful blue eyes. She smiled at me a few times, and then I thought, ``she likes me."

"And?"

"Encouraged by her apparent interest in me, I approached her and said the phrase. Hi, I'm Ken, do you want to be my Barbie?"

Rachel laughed. "You did not."

"I did. It gets worse."

"How can it possibly get worse?"

"She smiled brightly at me and said. I'm Helen. Can you introduce me to your friend?"

Imagining the scene, she laughed even harder. "Wow! That was…"

"I know, embarrassing, painful, humiliating…"

"What did you do?"

"After I regained the function of my vocal chords, I said, his name is Nick. As she stood up and walked toward my friend's table, I walked toward the bar. A beer appeared in front of me, I think you need it, cowboy, I heard a musical voice say. I looked up and the bartender was looking at me sympathetically. Thanks, I replied."

"Kate's mother?" She asked surprised.

"Yeah. From that day I definitively assumed the name Tex"

He could see that she did not understand.

"My real name is Ken, Ken Nolan."

"Really?"

"My father had come from Texas. Sometimes I used the name Tex instead of my real name. I thought it would be a better name to introduce myself to Hayley."

"What was she like?"

He paused for a moment, sadness replacing the joy in his eyes.

"Hayley was beautiful, independent, brave, and so strong. My Kate looks a lot like her mother."

"What happened?"

"She was killed by men who invaded her house," he said sadly. "Maybe they were looking for food or maybe their intentions were more perverse, I will never know."

"I'm sorry; it must be difficult for you."

"Yeah…it was worse for Kate, she saw her mother die."

He pulled the car into the empty parking lot at the cemetery.

They walked among the tombs; some with sculptures of important personalities from the city's history, obelisks, some with angels of varying sizes and different expressions on their faces, some mausoleums, and some were just simple tombstones.

Then, near a pond, under a leafy tree, he stopped. "We think you would not like a mausoleum. That you would like to stay outdoors."

She looks around. Her eyes are drawn to the sculpture of a little girl in the arms of an angel. Her hair in two braids, smiling a wide, toothless smile, one foot was barefoot, on the other she wore a red shoe, the only color point in the sculpture. Her sweet and delicate appearance chiseled and eternalized in marble.

Sometimes there is beauty in the strangest places. Sad beauty.

He admired her for a moment, besides the shorter hair, now hidden under the cap, the small scar on her forehead; she looks the same, beautiful, independent, stubborn, all sharp edges and steely determination. But her eyes show a vulnerability that although it was there from the beginning, to those whom she trusted enough to lower her guard, now is so close to the surface, that anyone can see.

He watches her breathe deeply, lost in her thoughts, a sad smile touching her lips. It was surreal to see her standing next to that grave.

Then her eyes scan the place again. A blue sky with fluffy clouds like cotton balls, a placid pond, green grass and verdant shade trees. They chose a beautiful place for her tomb.

For a moment he forgets to breathe, remembering the last time he was here for her funeral. Sorrow permeated the environment like a heavy, suffocating cloak. The soldiers were not strangers to death, they were a part of their lives, but it did not make the situation easier to deal with. Master Chief had made a touching farewell ceremony, but all he could think of was that she was dead. His throat burned with the effort to keep his tears at bay. Despite his efforts, some tears escaped and trickled down his cheek, then he stopped trying, tears were a tribute to her. He would never hear her voice again or…

"It's beautiful here," she whispers, not looking at him.

Her voice, so soft it was no more than a whisper, as if she had spoken to herself, plucked him from his painful memories and made him breathe in relief. She was not dead; it had all been a nightmare. Rachel was alive, breathing... Suddenly everything seemed perfect, although things were far from perfect.

God! She's beautiful.

"It truly is perfect," he replied after a moment, not even glancing around at the surrounding landscape.

She turned to look at him full in the face. "Why?"

He knew there was a stunned expression on his face, but couldn't seem to remove it. "Why what?"

She realized that his eyes were wet, but decided not to comment. It was a cemetery; people get emotional in these places.

"What made you think I would not like a mausoleum?"

"Well," he said. "When you were not in the laboratory, you would like to stay on the deck of the ship. Sometimes you had trouble sleeping. The sea breeze seemed to help you relax."

"Finding the cure for a deadly virus should be a stressful job, and maybe a rather lonely road."

"You were never alone, even when you thought you were."

It wasn't explicit but the implication was clear enough.

"Because you were there."

"Not just me," he said, "I have not always been on the ship, remember?"

"Members of Nathan James's crew?"

"Yeah…"

She slowly lowered herself to the grassy earth and sat down with her legs crossed and put her hands against the green grass in front of her.

He took a good look around, and discreetly checked the handgun and knife hidden under his clothes. Even if the place looked safe, he should not let his guard down.

He cannot fail her again. He will not go.

He sighed. Cemeteries.

There's something creepy about cemeteries. Having seen all those horror movies when he was a child had left a lasting impression. With obvious reluctance, he sat beside her on the grass, not that she realized it, since she seemed lost in her own thoughts, again.

I will always be here for you Rachel, but I must admit that he has arrived first.

Flashback

Unable to sleep, Tex went to the deck of the ship, and a lone figure caught his eye. She was on her back, her protective arms around herself. He smiled as he recognized Dr. Rachel. She turned and then he saw the side of her face, her eyes were tired and he could see the tension in her expression.

"She's having trouble falling asleep again," a deep voice said.

"Holy shit!" Tex growled.

She looked up, as if she had heard something and they instinctually retreated into the shadows.

"Man, do not sneak on me like that!" He said, lowering his voice to a whisper. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Your attention was elsewhere, or should I say it to someone else, so you did not notice my approach."

"She's a fascinating woman, I think I'm in love, " Tex said, joking, and then returned to watch the woman a few paces away. Now her eyes were closed, the breeze playing with the locks that had loosened from her braid. "Do you know how long?"

"We've known each other for over four months."

"What can you tell me about her?"

Tom watches her take a few deep breaths, her hands resting on the ship's rail. Her posture screams fatigue. She really needed to rest, unfortunately in that; he had been unable to help her. She works hard and sometimes forgets to eat. Bacon was instructed to prepare light meals that she could eat while working. He was still learning about her, about what was hiding beneath her steel exterior. And how to circumvent her carefully constructed defenses. "Not much, she is a woman of few words."

"So how do you know she likes to hang out on the deck late at night?"

"It's my ship, knowing what's going on here is part of my job."

"Are you aware of the sleeping pattern of all your crew?"

Tom grinned, but there was no humor in his voice when he answered. "The weight of finding a cure rests on her shoulders. A ship is not the best place to keep secrets; you have certainly heard comments since your arrival."

"Some people on this ship think of her as a heartless bitch. Ice Queen! But she got into the middle of a shooting to save one of your crew; this should help to change some opinions."

A woman like her needed to trust to demonstrate what she hides beneath the surface. They had started off on the wrong foot, but over time he hoped to develop a bond of trust between them.

"Dr. Scott is an essential part of the success of this mission, Tex. but she is also one of us now and we protect and care for her."

I just need to get her to believe that.

Tex watched with admiration as she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin slightly, her posture straight in spite of her exhaustion, her determined steps as she returned to the bowels of the ship.

"Even when the person in question can kick your ass?" Tex asked. "She seems fiercely independent."

There's a lot that he doesn't know about her, but one thing he knows, she rarely shows vulnerability, but does not mean it's not there. "She does not need to know that I'm here, but if she needs me, I'll be around."

"You really care for her, don't you?"

"Yes. I do." Then he offered him a tired smile. "It's good to have you aboard, Tex. I need all the help I can get. "

As the days passed, he began to observe with interest a relationship of friendship deepening between Captain Chandler and Dr. Scott. The way she reacted to his presence, how she sought his company and his approval, and how he sometimes looked at her when he thought no one was watching, how he relaxed beside her, how they also generated enough heat to set off a five-alarm fire bell. How they started to fall in love without realizing it.

So absorbed in her contemplation of the tomb, as if all the answers she sought were there, she did not seem to have noticed his little journey down memory road.

It was a simple tomb, just a tombstone with a name, Rachel Scott and below the name, a phrase, She lives in every person saved by her vaccine. A vase with a bouquet of red roses next to it.

"The flowers are fresh; it seems that someone comes here often." She says, as she touches the petal of one of the roses. "Do you know who put the flowers here?"

"No, but you have many admirers. Your vaccine saved many lives."

What she does know is that she was directly responsible for the death of a person. She put her hands on the grass. Who was the woman who had been buried in the tomb with her name? At what point did her fate intersect with hers? Why did she die in her place?

Her fingers are drawn back to the rose petals, as beautiful, as soft as velvet, but like everything in life so fragile and ephemeral.

"Flowers for a ghost," she says so low that it is barely a whisper. She is not the woman buried in this tomb, but she is not the woman who was kidnapped either. She is a ghost, a shadow of herself.

A blinding pain shot through her head, making her wince and then an image floated before her eyes, an image in her mind of the man, knife in hand, approaching a helpless… Lizzy.

"Rachel! Rachel! Rebecca!" Tex called out urgently, holding one of her hands in his.

"Lizzy…" she whispers, but it seems her mind is still somewhere else because she seems to look through him.

Another image flashed, and Rachel gasped, the image of a man with a knife approaching her, an interest clearly visible in his evil eyes. Then she abruptly pulled her hand as if she could not bear to be touched.

He breathes a sigh of relief when she blinks and looks at him.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, unable to hide the worry in his voice.

She shook her head, as she wrapped her arms around herself, an anguish in her brown eyes. He just wanted to hold her and say it would be okay, but her posture clearly said, stay away. He waited patiently, giving her time to process what she had remembered. Because of her reaction, there is no doubt in his mind that she remembered something. But what? He asks himself worried. Who was Lizzy?

"The woman who is buried here… I think her name was Lizzy..." Rachel closed her eyes for a moment and continued to speak as if she was visualizing the scene. "Her eyes were brown, like my own, but darker. She was so scared…"

"Now that we know the truth, we can try to find out who she was."

Was. Past.

Lizzy. She's dead. Gone. Lost. Perished. Fallen. Slaughtered. Many words, the same bitter meaning. Tears welled up in her eyes, anger mixed with frustration at the thought of the injustice of it all.

"The knife was extremely sharp when—" Her voice broke and she stopped...

Tex inhaled sharply.

Rachel's skin crawl, especially because she remembers the way he, that man, looked at her, as if she was a piece of meat, I can do whatever I want and you cannot stop me, his eyes said. The worst thing was to know that he was right.

Tex reached out and stopped the movement as he remembered how she'd reacted before.

"Rach—" he started to say and realized his mistake. He took a deep breath then tried again. "Rebecca, look at me, please."

She looked up at him, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"It's okay." His voice was salve. "You're safe now."

It was hard to keep a calm voice when inside he was boiling. He could only imagine what the kidnappers had done to her. Those bastards had died too fast.

"Am I? Something tells me this is not over."

"I promise, no one will ever hurt you again," he said, vehemently—too vehemently.

She met his gaze. Any gentleness in his expression disappeared. His voice was harsh and menacing. The sight sent a shiver up Rachel's spine to raise the tiny hairs on her neck and her heart quickened.

She had seen a similar transformation in Tom's eyes. A part of her deep down, wanted to rebel, she did not want to be treated like a damsel in distress, but another part, the vulnerable and frightened part, liked it.

"Both of you are frighteningly intense."

He did not need to ask whom she was talking about, he knew.

"We care about you."

"So I'm learning."

For a moment, she thought to ask why, but she was not sure if she was ready to hear the answer.

"I'm ready to go back; I already have the answers I came to get." And some that I was not looking for.

"Sure," he said and stood up, offering his hand to her to help her get to her feet, their bodies too close, but she did not feel the need to move away. Still holding onto Tex's hand, she placed her other hand flush against the center of his chest, right over his heart.

"Thanks," she said softly.

"Anytime, honey."

It was ridiculous to blush to hear him refer to her like this, but she does. She looked away, stiffening as she saw a familiar figure approaching. "What is he doing here?"

"Who?" Then he turns to see what has captured her attention so. Of course, he couldn't stay away.

"Rebecca, Tex, I did not expect to find you two here," Tom says, his eyes landing for a moment on the intertwined fingers. She quickly let go of Tex's hand, and cursed herself for it in thought. She had nothing to be ashamed of.

Everything is under control, his father had said when he called. Conveniently, he had forgotten to mention that she had gone out for a walk with Tex. His father was well aware of Tex's feelings for her. He made no secret of this. What the hell? His old man owed him some explanations.

"I can say the same, Admiral. I appreciate your concern, but—"

Her eyes were red, her face flushed. She'd been crying. "You okay? You look a little—"

"I'm fine," she assured him, a little too quickly. He had a way of making her feel way too vulnerable, and it irritated her, she did not know why, or maybe she did. She held his gaze, her chin tilted in defiance, and a stubborn expression in her eyes that made him want to smile. But he didn't. Because he felt a sharp pang of jealousy when he saw Rachel with Tex. Their position was so close it seemed almost intimate .She was touching him. You are mine. This almost primordial instinct of possessiveness was disconcerting. Get a grip, man.

She notices the tension in his jaw, but ignores it.

"Right…"he says, without taking his eyes off her.

She looked tense and deeply disquieted; there was a certain anguish in the depths of her brown eyes. What the hell had happened here?

"I'm safe with him," she says, feeling the need to defend Tex.

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Tom said, looking directly at Tex, who nodded in acknowledgment.

No other word passed between them. Both share the same sentiment for this woman and this makes them implicitly trust each other to keep her safe.

She took off the cap she was still wearing and ran her hands through her hair.

"Interesting choice of clothes." Tom said.

"What do you think?" Tex asked, "Would she be a good sailor?"

"She has proven that she can adapt to any situation, but we both know that she would have difficulty with one of the aspects of a soldier's life."

Tom and Tex exchanged amused looks.

"All right, I'll bite," she said. "What aspect?"

"You're expected to follow orders from a commanding officer."

Tex snorted. "You are terrible at it."

"What is the highest rank in the United States Navy?"

Tom quirked one corner of his mouth upwards, in what might pass for a smile. That was all the answer she needed.

"Admiral?" she asked.

She somehow managed to make the formal title sound every bit insulting.

He shook his head affirmatively, looking deep into her eyes, his smile widening. Distance, she needs to keep distance from him, because her own emotions were a tangled mess, and dammit, the way he looked at her, it certainly did not help.

"So…"Tex said, "what are you doing here?"

"I came to supervise the removal of the tombstone with her name, but I found that the workers only come tomorrow."

"Good idea, man. It's creepy her name on this grave."

His answer made sense. When they had talked yesterday, it was clear he felt guilty about what had happened to her. It is possible that he thinks he owes something to her. Or maybe he had here for other reasons. She looked at his left hand. Just as she hoped—his wedding ring was there. Maybe he'd just been visiting the tomb of his wife, a woman he still seemed to love.

"Is your wife buried here?" She asked.

The two men shared a look.

"No," he replied after a moment. "Darien is not buried…" something passed over his eyes for a moment, and was gone…"here. She died in Baltimore."

There was no doubt in her mind how much he had loved his wife. His eyes softening as he spoke her name. Dealing with the loss of a loved one can be very painful. But not only pain and sadness in his voice, there is something else she cannot identify. Judging from the grim looks on both their faces, there is much more in this story.

"Sorry— I shouldn't have asked you so…"

Emotion flickered in his eyes. You also almost became a victim of that place.

Suddenly exhausted, his eyes darted through the cemetery, seeing nothing. "Baltimore was…"

He thought fondly of the woman he loved, whom he would always love, grateful for the years they spent together, for the children she had given him, the reminders that she'd once existed. He had not been able to save his wife, had not even given her a proper burial. It's hard to say goodbye to someone when there's a body, a tomb to visit, but when none of this is possible, finding a closure is twice as painful.

"It was horrible beyond imagination," Tex supplied.

Something very bad has happened in this place to cause such a reaction on the two men. She decided that it was better not to know. Some questions are better left unanswered.

"Okay! We can go, Tex, " she says, and walks toward the parking lot, leaving them behind.

Tex. She calls him by the first name. Don't go there, Chandler! There are more important things now.

"Wait!" he said, grabbing Tex's arm to make him stop.

"What?"

"What happened? When I arrived, she seemed shaken."

"She may have remembered the name of the woman buried here. Her name was Lizzy."

"Okay, that's good, we can ...," he stopped talking at the sight of the somber expression on Tex's face. "Shit! She remembered something else, didn't she?"

"Yeah, she remembered when she was injured by one of the kidnappers. I got the feeling she remembered something else, but she didn't want to talk about it."

Tom's fists were tightly clenched, and his eyes burned with a frightening fury. He would like the kidnappers to be alive so he could kill them again, slowly.

She had stopped and watched them both with curiosity and a certain apprehension. Tex made eye contact with her and smiled, but it was a tense smile. She could not see Tom's expression because he had his back to her. But his nervousness was clear, his whole posture was tense and stiff, veins popping out his neck and his fists were clenched as he talked to Tex in a low voice

"I know what you're feeling, man. I'd also like to make those bastards suffer, but now try to relax, she's looking at us.

Tom took a deep breath, relaxed his hands, and tried to wrestle his temper under control, when what he really needed was to hold Rachel against him, to comfort her and assure her that everything would be all right. "Dammit! Why did you bring her here?" he asked, through clenched teeth.

"Because she asked me for help. You would have done the same."

He cannot refute the truth of this statement. "You're right, I would have." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "I'm sorry; I just wanted to be able to protect her."

"I know, so I am. But unfortunately, to recover who she is, she'll have to remember painful things too."

"She is lost, but she's still there, during the last hours I had glimpses of her personality." Tom said.

"Oh yeah," said Tex. "She is still independent and…"

They turned to look at her, and she frowned confused with the amused expression in the eyes of the two.

"Stubborn ". They said together and then they began to laugh.

They looked at her, who was looking at them as if the two had lost their minds. Somehow it was strange to see someone laughing in the cemetery, it did not seem right.

Maybe they needed to release the tension of the last few months, or it was just the look of disapproval in her brown eyes, the two men laughed until tears streamed down their faces.

"Damn! She must be thinking we're crazy."

Tex reached out and patted him on the shoulder. "Possibly, but your crew already thinks I'm crazy, it's expected behavior from me." Then he started walking toward where Rachel was standing.

Tom shakes his head and follows Tex, trying to maintain seriousness and proper behavior to a military commander.

"Is everything alright?" She asks, alternating the look between them.

"Yes," they respond in unison.

She looks at Tex, he winks at her with a playful smile in his lips. Tom had returned to his usual seriousness, at least what she imagined was his normal behavior. But she sees the small smirk playing on his lips before he can hide it.

Then they walk together in relative silence towards the parking lot. The two men walking beside her: One on the left, one on the right.

"Where is your car?" Tex asked.

"I always leave my car on the other side when I come here. I'll see you at home, Rebecca. " Tom says and begins to move away from them.

Then he had come here before. Why? His family had not been buried here. She needs to know.

"Admiral?"

He almost asked her to call him by name, but he knew that this battle was lost for now. She was too stubborn and liked things in her own way, something her amnesia had not changed.

He stopped, turned, and faced her. "Yes?"

"Do you know who put the flowers in the tomb?"

His expression was tender, when he responded. "A friend." Before she can say anything, he walks away toward another exit from the cemetery.

It was he, who had brought the roses, she was almost certain of it. The delicacy of the gesture flooded her senses with a pleasing warmth. In the last hours, she had discovered several facets of his personality. He might be arrogant, but he can also be charming when he wants to be. She likes that sweet and gentle side of him.

Despite the situation in which she finds herself, without memories of her past, she feels safe with them, as if they were the place she should be.

Looking at the pensive woman at his side, Tex said, "a penny for your thoughts."

She looked at him. Tex seems like a nice guy; his relaxed attitude makes all the difference, he's very funny and easy to talk to. The more she saw of him, the more she liked him.

"Tell me more about yourself, Tex Nolan."


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