Page 102 of Kane

She sits up, gasping softly as she loses me. “Do you mean I have a good way with words?”

I caress her cheek. “Yeah, honey. A very good way.” I laugh as I set about dressing. “You know it’s funny, you speak English better than I do, and it’s a second language for you.”

She sniffs a laugh. “Well, I have learned English almost alongside Hindi. This is very common. But it does make sense—I havestudiedEnglish, whereas you learned it naturally. It is a different kind of way to learn a language, I suppose.”

“I love the way you talk.”

She frowns at me. “You do?”

“Yeah. Your accent is sexy as fuck.”

She ducks her head at the compliment. “Oh.”

We both get dressed—in clean clothes, courtesy of Luke’s laundry facilities—and work together in unison to take apart the camp. “What were you saying, earlier? When you were holding me.”

She frowns at me again. “What do you mean?”

“After we were done, you were holding me and you were whispering to me in Hindi. What were you saying?”

She giggles. “Oh. Well, I do not really remember. I was not aware I was speaking in Hindi.”

I laugh. “Oh. It sounded…affectionate. Just wondering.”

She shakes her boots out while I knock apart and scatter the remains of our fire. “I honestly cannot remember.”

“Well then, you’ll have to teach me to speak Hindi so I can understand.”

She whips her head to me, shocked. “You mean it? You would learn Hindi?”

I nod. “I can try. I mean, I know a decent smattering of Arabic, Urdu, Pashto, and Dari from my time downrange.”

“Downrange?”

“Deployed overseas, in a war zone.”

“Oh, I see.” She’s excited, clapping eagerly. “I will teach you Hindi. This will be very fun!”

Her excitement is infectious, and she begins even as we finish packing up, teaching me the Hindi words for sleeping bag, tent, motorcycle, and breakfast.

As we ride out in search of breakfast, she points things out and shouts their translation in my ear—tree, bird, car, fence, and the like. I repeat them, and she patiently corrects my pronunciation.

Her body is tight and soft behind me, her arms wrapped around my belly, her chin on my shoulder.

A sense of rightness descends on me— for the first time since that awful day. Perfect, beautiful, good, and right.

And it’s all her.

13Showdown

Anjalee

We stop again that night, only a few hours from Las Vegas—we took a long detour and a long lunch break…and by lunch break, I mean I was the lunch. Andthenwe had food.

I have never been so happy. I did not know such happiness could exist—such contentment, such belonging.

I will never give this up.

Yet, the next morning, as we near the glittering lights of Las Vegas, my heart begins to squeeze, and not in a good way. Kane brings us to a restaurant downtown, not far off the Strip, since we opted to simply get to Vegas rather than having breakfast first. We sit side by side in a booth—his choice, not mine, and something I quite enjoy—and order food. I get coffee, and when it arrives, I discover what he meant about normal coffee versus Lilly’s cowboy coffee. It is not so good as hers, but I am finding I like it anyway, with a little milk from the tiny plastic cups on the table, and a sprinkling of sugar.