Tempted by the Soldier. Patricia Potter
Several newspaper articles, though, most of them involving search-and-rescue missions. One mentioned she was also a volunteer firefighter. He found a candid photo of an exhausted-looking Stephanie and Sherry apparently being thanked by a mother holding a child. Search-and-Rescue Team Find Five-Year-Old, the caption reported.
It was another side of his chauffeur from yesterday. An intriguing lady, indeed.
That was it for information. Someone really had to work at privacy not to have more.
He closed the computer. He was damned restless, but his foot precluded the long hike he would have liked. He went into the second bedroom, which contained a single bed and two bookcases filled with books. He rifled through them. An interesting mixture. Biographies. Novels. History. His host obviously had eclectic taste.
He found a suspense novel, moved slowly to the kitchen for a glass of water and took both to the porch.
He settled in the swing and opened the book, but couldn’t concentrate on the words. Too many other images crowded into his mind: his last combat mission, the rush of adrenaline as he pulled Rangers out of a killing zone, the military doctor’s verdict, or lack of one. He hated feeling powerless. He’d lived with it too long as a boy.
He needed that control back. He couldn’t sit here and read a book on someone else’s dime.
He removed his cell phone from his pocket and punched in Josh’s number.
CLINT WAS READY when Josh drove up in his Jeep.
He’d shaved and changed into a clean pair of jeans and a pullover knit shirt. His swollen foot still hurt like hell, but he didn’t want to use crutches. He had put on his only pair of sandals.
Clint was already bored with his own company. He’d always been active, driven to excel in sports and physical training. He’d always wanted to be the best. At first, it had been to earn his father’s approval, then it had been to get into the service, then to be the best in his unit. He had always asked for the most dangerous missions. A death wish, one of his fellow pilots said. But it wasn’t that. He simply needed to challenge himself. Dr. Payne had probed at that contention. Why? He hadn’t had an answer.
Why had he accelerated the Corvette that day?
Josh jumped out of the Jeep, limping slightly. Clint hadn’t noticed that yesterday. He’d been too tired, too focused on the veterinarian and, he admitted, on himself. A dog trotted after Josh, keeping in step with the man.
Josh walked up to the porch and opened the door. “This is Amos.” He pointed to the dog. “Say hello.”
Amos offered his right front paw just as Sherry had. What was it about polite canines in Covenant Falls? Was it contagious? Nonetheless, he took the paw gingerly.
“You’re a friend now,” Josh said. “Unless, of course, you attack me.”
“Then what?”
“He wouldn’t be happy. You do not want to run into an unhappy Amos.”
“He’s a handsome dog.”
Josh plopped down on a chair, and the dog sat next to him. “He’s ex-military.” He changed the topic. “How’s your foot?”
“Did you have to remind me?” Clint grinned. “It’s an experience I would rather forget.”
“Good luck,” Josh said. “This town is a gossip mill. I imagine that rancher has probably told the story far and wide.”
Clint shrugged. “I won’t be here long.”
Josh raised an eyebrow. “Would you like to go for a beer?”
“Sure.”
“Good. I’ll introduce you to the town’s best bar. The Rusty Nail. It also has the best burgers.”
“Sounds good. And Amos?”
“Amos is allowed inside. He’s considered a hero around here.”
“Why?”
Josh shrugged. “He saved my life a couple of times overseas, and here in town he saved the mayor’s son. Twice.”
“How?” Clint asked.
“He took a rattler bite meant for Nick, then later found Nick after he was kidnapped. It’s a long story, probably better told by my wife and Nick.” He stood. “Let’s go.”
Clint hesitated. “Don’t you have something else to do? I don’t want to interfere.” He didn’t want to be someone’s cause, but he damned well wanted that beer. He also wanted to know a hell of a lot more about Stephanie.
“You’re not. Nate, my partner, has everything under control.”
“What do you do?”
“We’re starting a construction business. We’re doing some remodeling, and we’re talking to the bank about buying and rehabbing a run-down motel here. Our goal is to bring new business and residents into Covenant Falls. The town desperately needs jobs.”
“What did you do in the army?”
“Ranger. Staff sergeant. Learned a lot about building things, as well as exploding them.”
Clint stood, balanced on the bad foot, then ignored the pain as he followed Josh to the Jeep. Amos jumped into the backseat, and Clint climbed into the passenger seat in front.
“Miss it?” he asked. He knew he didn’t have to say what.
“Parts of it,” Josh admitted.
“You were a lifer?”
Josh started the Jeep. “I thought I would be. This leg sorta ruined that.”
“And now?”
“Things are good. You’ll know why when you meet Eve and Nick.”
“Nick?”
“Eve’s son. Really bright kid. Full of curiosity. Pretty good baseball player, too.”
“Stephanie said you had several dogs.”
“Five, to be exact. I went from being a loner to a husband with a stepson, five dogs, two horses and a cat. Talk about adjustment. I still think I’ll wake up and it will all be a dream.”
“You seem happy.”
“I am. But not without a hell of a lot of mistakes, miscues and doubts. Sometimes, I need to escape, and thank God Eve understands that. You ever been married?”
“For a very short time. Turned out absence didn’t make the heart grow fonder. Got home from a deployment and found she had moved in with someone else, and there had been several other someones.”
“Rough. I saw a lot of that in the service.”
Clint nodded. “After the initial feeling of betrayal, I was relieved. We’d married too fast, and for all the wrong reasons. I thought I wanted a home to return to, but I really didn’t know what a home was. She thought she was marrying someone who would party all night, every night. It was not an unrealistic expectation since that’s what we did in the two months before we married.” Why in the hell was he telling a stranger so much? But he had immediately liked Josh Manning, had felt a kinship with him. “But that wasn’t what I wanted in a home. Hell, I didn’t know what I wanted.”
He looked ahead and saw a sprawling building with a sign that read The Rusty Nail in big letters. The gravel parking lot was about a quarter full.
Josh parked, and they both limped inside. Sawdust covered the floor and a long bar lined one side of the room. The rest of the bar was filled with mismatched tables and chairs with maybe a third of the seats occupied. A bandstand stood out in one corner.