More than One Night

by Heatherly Bell

  He held out his hand. “Let’s get you back to your trailer.”

  As they hiked back, she enjoyed the quiet on the ridge. This protected land was known for the occasional wildfire, hence its name, but they hadn’t had one in years. They were officially out of the drought and vegetation was growing back, little sprigs of green coming up everywhere the eye could see.

  She’d achieved one of her goals. Turning this almost-forgotten ridge into something desirable again. Having a sunny and optimistic disposition hadn’t always endeared her to people, including the town council, but soon the residents of Fortune were going to see what she’d done here. They’d see that no one should ever give up on a place just because it had some tough times. Or a person. It occurred to her that maybe, just maybe she could help Sam and do some good there, too.

  He had issues with his parents, and no one knew better than she did how to navigate rough terrain with The Parentals. She had a black belt in the sport. But despite what she felt about her parent’s lack of belief in her abilities, she’d at least always had Ryan in her corner.

  When they reached her trailer, she turned to Sam. “Do you have a brother or a sister?”

  “Ask me tomorrow.” He grinned.

  “C’mon! You almost killed me in that lake.” She crossed her arms. “You owe me.”

  “No one forced you to follow me in.”

  “Sure, but you made it look fun.” She threw up her hands. “All right, never mind. I’ll ask you tomorrow.”

  She’d just put her key in the door and opened it when Sam spoke from behind her.

  “You’re going to give up that easy, Boots?”

  She turned. “Boots?”

  He rocked back on his heels. “Yeah. You’re like a new recruit. I’ll show you the ropes.”

  Show her the ropes? She was going to show him the ropes! Didn’t he realize how badly he needed her help?

  She went hands on hips. “If anything you’re my boot.”

  His blue eyes narrowed. “Who followed who into the lake?”

  Oh crap. She knew that would come back to haunt her. “Um...”

  “Exactly.”

  He looked so smug and self-assured. She yanked her door open, planning to make a big show of slamming it in his face. But it stuck against several boxes of deliveries she’d had earlier in the day. Instead, she wound up fighting with the damned door to simply close it.

  “Good night,” Sam said from outside. “Fifty jumping jacks before bed. Takes care of the...frustration.”

  “And you do a hundred!” she shouted through the door while peeling off her damp clothes.

  She heard him chuckle as he walked away.

  Screw him. He didn’t want to tell her anything about his life. Locked up tight.

  She was going to help him if it killed her.

  Chapter Eight

  It only took Sam one night to realize what a tool he’d been. He’d had his beautiful boss alone, wearing nothing but her underwear, wet and quite willing. If the very next day he questioned every single one of the choices he’d made in the past six months, surely no one would blame him.

  Point being, he’d done her a favor. She’d regret being with him, sooner rather than later. They’d both been caught up in each other, and in the raw and unplanned moment. He’d felt the pull, too. Felt the chemistry dig so deep that it took every ounce of his mental strength to turn her down. But turn her down he had.

  Idiot.

  He told himself it didn’t matter. With what he now knew about hardworking Jill, she’d have blamed the encounter on herself and a moment of weakness. Then she would have excelled at avoiding him. Proceeded to tiptoe around him the rest of the time he was here. Oh yeah, and that was another thing. He had no idea how long he’d be in Fortune. This was supposed to be a temporary stop for him. Nothing permanent.

  And, as if he needed another reason, she clearly deserved someone better than him.

  Because his environment may have changed but he still woke each day in a cold sweat. Sometimes, out of the blue, a certain smell or sound would trigger a memory and he’d be in the desert again. Unable to feel his legs. Helpless. Clear and unflagging certainty that he didn’t have the right to be alive and breathing oxygen wouldn’t seem to leave him. Even after a long and punishing hike, and a swim in painfully cold water, the nightmares returned that same night. And yeah, good thing she wasn’t lying next to him now. Good thing she wasn’t here when he woke up out of breath, gasping for air. Feeling weak. Useless.

  He planned to spend the next day off avoiding Jill. Turned out that wouldn’t be much of a problem since he didn’t see her truck the next morning. Maybe she’d gone home for a change. Good. None of the guys were back, so he had the entire hill to himself. He took another long hike, knowing this time he wouldn’t run across a half-naked redhead by the lake. Near the end of the day he showered, then drove his motorcycle into town, finding himself in a saloon named the Silver Saddle. Interesting place. The bar was apparently run by a young married couple who loved country music, given the steady selection of music that piped through the speakers. There was a mechanical bull in the corner. Still, he managed only enough patience to sit still for thirty minutes nursing a beer before he had to leave. Far too noisy in there.

  Back on the ridge he welcomed the quiet of the black night and tried to turn in. But the air inside his trailer seemed oppressive and tight. Suffocating. He tossed and turned, fighting sleep. If only he could rest for a little while. But with sleep often came the nightmares. Worse was when they came before he even shut his eyes. Waking nightmares where he still heard the sounds of the explosion that hit their Humvee. Could almost smell burning flesh. Gasoline. The crushing inability to move his legs. Trapped. Unable to help. He’d had a mission and he’d failed. Nothing would ever change the fact that he’d been wrong. About everything. He folded his hands behind his neck and stared at the ceiling. Maybe what he needed was a woman. A distraction. Someone he could bury himself in. Someone he’d never see again. Someone who wouldn’t ask him any more damn questions about his personal life.

  Of course, he’d tried one night with Jill. Hadn’t worked so well for him, had it?

  He consoled himself with facts. He didn’t have to stay in Fortune if this job didn’t work out. There were plenty of cities all over California. If California didn’t work he could move farther east. Maybe Colorado. He’d heard it was beautiful there. Even though on an intellectual level he understood that physical miles wouldn’t do a damned thing to the shit going on in his head, it helped the anxiety to imagine it might work.

  What wasn’t going to work for him was talking about his parents to anyone, Jill included. He hadn’t spoken to them since shortly after he’d enlisted. He still received the occasional email from his mother, to which he replied briefly, only giving her enough information to know he was still among the living. She didn’t even know he was back in the Bay Area, and he wanted to keep it that way. William and Janet Hawker were both Berkeley University professors and conscientious war objectors. When he’d announced he’d enlisted as a US Marine, they hadn’t taken it well. That was an understatement.

  They’d both done everything in their power to stop him, staging an intervention with friends and some of their students. But in the end he was eighteen years old and they couldn’t do a damn thing but threaten to disown him if he joined.

  “Let me get this straight,” Sam had said. “You’re going to disown me if I serve my country?”

  “Whatever it takes, son,” his father had said. “I won’t have you fight an illegal war.”

  Sam had tried to explain, but it didn’t matter what his thoughts were on the subject. Didn’t matter how strongly he felt about the military and how long he’d been drawn to it. Didn’t matter that he’d never felt like he belonged to his two scholarly and political parents. This wasn’t about politics to
him, but about that fact that he and his friends had been forever changed by 9/11 and the aftermath.

  He’d been in eighth grade when it happened and still remembered the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Watching the news coverage of the Twin Towers falling, he’d witnessed his parents truly shaken for the first time. In the weeks that followed, every one of the houses on their residential street had a US flag flying, including his home. Much like the rest of the country.

  For the first time in his young life, Sam felt a connection in a way he’d never experienced before. He wanted to protect. Defend. He had a mission and a purpose that would only grow as the years passed and a sentiment that never waned.

  It was at odds with all the expectations his parents had for him, and it was the way he’d make his own path. Since he was an only child, he understood their fear more than they realized. But it was still his life to give as he saw fit.

  Eventually, two of his classmates, similarly driven, joined up before they were eighteen with their parents’ permission. Not Sam. He’d had to wait.

  In the end, his mother had wept openly after a big blowout fight that involved Sam’s father telling him that if he insisted on doing this, he shouldn’t bother to come back.

  And he hadn’t.

  * * *

  The next morning Sam went for an early run before the sun came up. He ran into Julian at the foot of the hill, stretching.

  “Care for some company?”

  “Why not.” Sam didn’t need company but he also didn’t want to be rude. Julian was a good egg.

  The first night when they’d all sat around the campfire, Julian seemed to be the one with the gift of gab. While none of them talked details, they all talked about their tours and where they’d been stationed. How many times deployed. Complained about the chow. Kept it light. That kind of thing. Turned out that Julian had been deployed to Iraq close to the time Sam had been on his last disastrous tour. Sam realized that meant Julian had also been in the thick of it.

  No need for words.

  They’d just started their run when Julian spoke. “Do anything on your downtime?”

  “Hung out.”

  “Bossy Lady around, too?”

  If he was prying, Julian wouldn’t get anywhere with Sam.

  “Nah, just me.”

  And the quiet. The memories. Nightmares. He’d ask Julian if it was ever the same for him, but there was always the chance that it wasn’t. And Sam refused to be the weak link. With that in mind, he upped his game and easily bested Julian to the summit. They took a minute to watch the sun crest over the ridge and enjoy the breathtaking view into the valley. Orange and red tinges circling the sun.

  Times like this, Sam thought he might actually beat this thing. Get on the other side of it.

  They jogged back down and Sam headed to his trailer and a date with his shower.

  “Hey,” Julian said, bending with a stitch in his side. “You ever need to talk? Know I’m here.”

  “Yeah,” Sam said, wiping sweat from his brow. “You bet.”

  * * *

  It was their trial weekend before opening day and, according to Jill, they expected some of her best friends; her brother, the Sheriff, who didn’t sound like a slouch; and a few former Air Force guys who operated a regional airport in town. Sam looked forward to the physical challenge the day would bring.

  From a distance, he spied Jill talking to a pretty brunette, her long hair in braids. Next to her sat a dog roughly the size of a Volkswagen. Both women appeared to be engaged in conversation. Smiling and laughing. They looked normal. He wondered if he looked normal to other people. Sometimes it felt as if he was turned inside out but others looked at him as though he were a perfectly average Joe. They didn’t stare and point, in other words.

  As he approached, he immediately began to feel the sensual and pulsing waves of Jill’s energy hitting him like tiny slices of light. Thanks to her, he was about to feel the same way on the inside as he must look on the outside. Normal.

  “Morning,” he said to both women.

  “Hi, Sam,” Jill said, no longer seeming irritated with him. “This is Zoey. Remember I told you about her?”

  “The dog lady.” He nodded.

  That sounded weird as soon as the words came out of his mouth, even though they both laughed easily. But it wasn’t the thing to say to a woman. His brain wasn’t so far gone he didn’t remember that.

  This is why he didn’t much like talking to people.

  “That’s me,” Zoey said, as if he hadn’t just insulted her. “I’m the dog lady.”

  She didn’t look anything like a dog. Pretty, with beautiful olive skin. Italian or Hispanic maybe.

  He pointed to the dog the size of a pony. “Your dog?”

  “This is Boo,” she said, patting the beast’s head. “He’s one of my rescues. Only it’s difficult to place him because he needs just the right family.”

  “I’m sure,” Sam said. “Someone with a lot of room. It must cost a lot to feed him. What does he eat? A poodle a day?”

  Jill laughed but Zoey blinked and looked from him to Jill and back again. Wrong thing to say again. Wasn’t he a winner these days, laying on the charm?

  Do not joke with this one about animals.

  “He’s kidding, Z,” Jill said, elbowing Zoey.

  “Oh right,” Zoey said with a snort. “For a minute, I didn’t get it. That’s funny.”

  It was not, but she was kind enough to pretend.

  “Jill said it was okay to bring Boo with me, because he doesn’t do too well when I leave him at home alone,” Zoey said.

  He could only imagine. Unless Zoey lived on a farm, Boo was probably feeling a little constrained. Normally Sam would squat to pet a dog. In this case, he merely bent slightly at the waist.

  “Hey, boy.” Sam gave him an ear scratch.

  Boo closed his eyes in apparent bliss and released a happy dog-sigh.

  “Ah, yeah. That’s the spot,” Sam said.

  “Oh, he really likes you,” Zoey said.

  Sam didn’t miss that she went brows up, looking a little surprised. Probably because of the poodle joke. Admittedly, he was terrible at trying to be funny and he wasn’t sure why Jill had laughed. He should stick to grunts.

  “Sam likes Labradors,” Jill said, also bending to pet Boo. “Maybe you can find him one.”

  “I like all dogs,” Sam corrected. “But Boo here definitely needs a much bigger place than a trailer.”

  “Don’t worry,” Zoey said. “I’ll find you the perfect dog. You’ve heard of matchmaking services for couples, right?”

  He nodded, wondering where the hell she was going with this.

  “That’s what I do for people. Match them up with the perfect pet.”

  “It’s a gift,” Jill said. “She’s our version of the dog whisperer.”

  “More like a pet whisperer,” Zoey said. “You never know if your kindred animal could be a dog or a cat. Or maybe a parakeet. Remember, Jill, when Mrs. Robinson thought she wanted a cat? But she was totally a parakeet person.”

  “Oh yeah.” Jill tossed that wild mane of hair. “And they’re so happy together.”

  “Totally.” Zoey cocked her head and moved her hands in front of Sam in a circular motion. “But I’m sensing more of a feline energy from you.”

  Okay, so Jill’s friend was a little odd. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to be, er, matched up.”

  “Right,” Zoey said. “These things can’t be rushed.”

  Michael, Ty and Julian joined them and introductions were made all around. Sam didn’t miss that all three of them were checking out Zoey with more than a little interest. But she didn’t pay much attention to anyone but the rangy-looking dude coming up the ridge. Due to his air of confidence and authority, even in plainclothes, Sam had to assume t
he man was Jill’s brother. Though not a redhead, he definitely looked similar enough to be related.

  “Ryan! You’re here.” Jill ran up to him. “I want you to meet the guys.”

  If Sam were Jill’s brother, he would also want to meet all the dudes spending their days and nights with her. And then he’d want to run background checks on all of them, had the agency not already done that.

  Introductions were made all around, Ryan shaking Sam’s hand with impressive strength. This guy might give Sam a run for his money out here.

  “Zoey.” He nodded in her direction, looking at her as briefly as one might stare at the sun.

  “Ryan,” Zoey said, studying the ground.

  Interesting.

  In the next few minutes, more people arrived. The same couple who owned the Silver Saddle, Jimmy and Trish Hopkins. A couple of off-duty firefighters who were friends of Ryan. The pilots Jill had mentioned. Stone Mcallister and his wife, Emily. Matt Conner and his wife, Sarah and son Hunter. Levi Lambert, who he learned was married to one of Jill’s best friends.

  “Carly stayed home with Grace,” he explained.

  “Makes sense,” Jill said. “This isn’t really a place for a baby.”

  “I’m not sure it’s a place for me,” Sarah added. “But I’m here because I’m a trouper. Just ask Matt.”

  Her husband pulled her into a hug. “Aw. You’re gonna love it.”

  “This gives me an opportunity to kick your ass,” Stone said to Levi. “And you know I will.”

  “Just try it, big guy,” Levi said.

  Jill proceeded to welcome everyone with the speech she would give to all prospective customers. It involved her greeting, safety first and all the usual. She introduced the guides. According to her, all customers signed a release that would limit the company’s liability. Probably similar to the one they’d signed as guides releasing them from liability if they broke their safety rules.

  Damn. She was beautiful, sexy and smart. Lethal combo.

  Everyone but Ryan, Levi and the two firefighters were coupled up, which for some odd reason filled him with a sense of relief. That relief didn’t last long when he noticed one of the firefighters deeply engaged in conversation with Jill. Sam told himself they were discussing a controlled burn on a hill known for wildfires, but when the dude leaned in close and whispered something in Jill’s ear that made her smile, Sam felt his gut tighten in a way he did not welcome. Only one thought flooded through him: mine.