Snowbound - Harlequin.com

256 SNOWBOUND
bulk around the middle. Not…natural, like a pregnant
belly. And the eyes. They were wild. Like a fanatic, but
scared, too. Maybe he wasn’t that old, either. I don’t
know. Nobody told me.”
“A suicide bomber.”
The pressure in his chest was near unbearable.
“Yeah. I saw him, I opened my mouth… I think I did.
And then…boom.”
“How many died?”
“Six. Six boys. Four were badly hurt. They lost legs
or arms or…” His stomach heaved. “Faces.”
“And the bomber died.”
“He was torn to bits.”
“You were hurt.”
“Enough to get discharged and shipped home.”
“You said there were eleven.”
“One boy wasn’t hurt. He was just far enough away.
I don’t know.”
“A miracle.”
Did one out of eleven qualify as a miracle? John didn’t
think so, although that boy’s parents might disagree.
“That was a tough thing to see.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me. It was my fault.”
His guts were on fire, his heart hammering so hard
he heard it. But this was why he’d come. Not to receive
pity, understanding, but to say these words.
“Your fault?”
“I was their coach. Their friend. The face of America.”
“And you believe the bomb was a message to you.”
“No. To the other Iraqis. Hang out with Americans,
you will suffer.”