Field Stripped: 15 Steamy Military Romances

by Marissa Dobson

  cjpinard.com

  cjpinardauthor@gmail.com

  Healing Love

  by Tamara Hoffa

  Physical therapy can heal her shattered body, but will love heal her shattered soul? A Sniper’s bullet shattered Army Medic Sandra O’Donnell’s shoulder and her sunny outlook on life. Plagued with nightmares and PTSD she is back home and attending rehab, but unsure where her career in the Army will lead. With the help of her Physical therapist, Caleb Brooks, she is recovering from her physical trauma. Can Caleb’s best friend, Zach Winters help heal her emotional scars? The sexy corpsman with the heart of gold may be just the medicine she needs.

  Prologue

  Sandra O’Donnell adjusted her helmet to try and shield her face from the blistering sun. She pulled the bandana up from her neck to cover her nose and mouth. People thought the women in Afghanistan wore burkhas for religious reasons only, but they were wrong. In the swirling desert sands, the head coverings kept you from inhaling half the desert with every breath.

  The truck bounced over what passed for a road, back home it wouldn’t even be a cow path, and Sandy clung to her spot at the front of the truck bed. She pulled out the letter from her mom and read it for the third time. God, how she missed her family.

  Hi Honey,

  All is well here at home. Suzie is getting ready to graduate. Wish you could be here, but we will take lots of pictures for you, and maybe some video, if Daddy can figure out how to work the dad-blam camera. You know that has always been your job, and he is clueless about electronic things. (Don’t tell him I said that.)

  Sammy and your dad just finished a build on a new cycle and it’s a beauty. I swear your brother gets better with every paint job he does. He’s the virtual Michelangelo of motorcycles. We’re getting calls from all over the country for custom requests.

  I’m sending you a care package when I send this letter, but I know packages take a lot longer to arrive. I hope it makes it mostly intact. I wish I could send you some sweet tea, as I’m sure you are missing it there, but I’m afraid that just wouldn’t ship. I did send your favorite no-bake chocolate oatmeal cookies though, and lots of boiled peanuts. So at least that will give you a little taste of home.

  I am already planning for Christmas, your deployment will still be ending in November, right? No extensions? Please tell me there are no extensions, I need you to come home. I miss you so much!

  I’m sorry, I know I promised not to nag. I love you more than life. Be careful and take care of yourself.

  All my love

  Momma

  Denny elbowed her in the ribs, not that she could much tell the difference from the normal jostling of the ride.

  “Hey, sugar, what’s that smile for?” he shouted over the noise.

  She waved the letter in her hand. “Just news from home.”

  “That’s always something to smile about, as long as it’s not a Dear John letter.” He laughed.

  She punched him in the shoulder. “It’s from my Momma.”

  “You’re safe then.”

  “Yeah, a big ten-four on that. How much farther is this village, my ass is falling asleep.”

  Denny checked his map. “I think we’re only about three klicks out.”

  Sandra sighed. “Thank you, Jesus. How many people in this village?”

  “Only about four-hundred.”

  “Still, that’s a lot of vaccinations.”

  “Yeah, but we’re warriors. Between the two of us we’ll get it done in a couple hours and be on our way back to base.”

  “From your mouth to God’s ear.”

  The convoy began to slow and turned off onto a side road, really little more than ruts in the dirt. The bouncing worsened and Sandra changed position, moving to her knees and bracing herself in the corner of the truck. After what seemed forever, in reality only a few minutes, they pulled to a stop and began unloading.

  Sandra’s legs wobbled like she’d been at sea for weeks. She needed time to adjust, but the Army didn’t give you time to adjust to anything, you hit the ground running or got run over. So, she sucked it up, grabbed her rucksack and headed for the center of the village with her team.

  They quickly set up a table, a few chairs and that was their makeshift clinic. Primitive didn’t even begin to describe the conditions here, more like practicing medicine in the twilight zone, but Sandra took pride in her calling. If it wasn’t for teams like hers, the children in these villages would never receive vaccinations, and that could easily be a death sentence with the constant danger of Hepatitis A and typhoid fever in this area. Plus, the regular childhood diseases like measles, mumps and polio. Many of the adults had never been vaccinated either.

  Their work served an important purpose. Not only in preventing the spread of disease, but in spreading goodwill for the American government, and the armed forces. It allowed the locals to see the Army as an aiding force instead of an invading force, something they tried hard to establish; building schools and hospitals, training local fighters, and performing services like they were doing today.

  Sandra took off her bandana and mopped her sweating forehead. She took a swig of water from her canteen, sat in one of the chairs. It only took a few minutes to get everything set up and ready to go. A line had already formed and their interpreter stood between her and Denny to explain the procedure to the Afghanis.

  Unfortunately, it had taken most of the morning to reach the village and the mid-day sun beat down so hard Sandra felt like she was caught in an Easy-Bake oven. There wasn’t a spot of shade to be had anywhere. God, what she wouldn’t give for a nice Magnolia tree to sit under like back home in Tennessee.

  Her desert camo stuck to her like a second skin and twenty-one pounds of bullet proof vest allowed her to move, but restricted the meager breeze from penetrating the protective shield. Swabbing and inoculating every ten seconds, the repetitive motions allowed her thoughts to drift to her Momma’s letter and Christmas at home. Ice hanging off the Dogwoods, a light layer of snow on the ground, the pine trees all green and welcoming. At least she could think cool thoughts.

  Glancing at her watch, she saw an hour had passed, but it didn’t seem the line had shortened at all. Damn, it was going to be a long day. She cupped the arm of a little girl and prepared to give her an injection when her right shoulder exploded in fire. Before she had time to look down, a baseball bat hit her in the chest and knocked her backwards. She and the chair both fell to the ground. More burning pain in her leg, and now she could hear gunfire rat-a-tat-tatting all around.

  The sun, an orange ball in the sky, she looked to her left and Denny crawled toward her. He said something, but she couldn’t hear him over the ringing in her ears. Something warm crawled up her neck. She reached to swipe it away with her left hand, her right arm wasn’t working for some reason. When she pulled her hand away, blood covered it. Oh, crap. That wasn’t good. She tried to look down, but she couldn’t seem to lift her head. Turning back to Denny she tried to make out his speech.

  At her side now, he pushed on her shoulder. Damn, that hurt.

  “I’ve got you girl. Hold on. Evac’s on the way.”

  Good. She’d just close her eyes for a few minutes, and then everything went black.

  Sandra woke for the first time in an Army field hospital. They told her the bad news. The first bullet had shattered her rotator cuff, and she would most likely need shoulder replacement surgery. The second bullet had fractured her femur, a bad fracture that would require a metal plate to repair the break. The good news, she had earned a ticket home.

  They sedated her, and she didn’t wake again until she reached the Army hospital in Germany. During the week spent at that facility, she had the shoulder replacement surgery and her leg repaired. Sandra contacted her family and made arrangements to rehab at home. The surgeon said she would be good as new in six months to a year. She could play tennis and baseball, and rejoin her unit. At this point, that revelation met with mixed feelings. She definitely nee
ded some counselling when she got home too, because, damn, this shit had really thrown her for a loop.

  She was going home! She might not be able to hug her Momma tight with her arm in this stupid sling, but she knew Momma would hold her tight enough for the both of them, and Daddy…Daddy would be there to keep her safe. Yeah, her head was really fucked, since when did she need anyone to keep her safe? I’m a God damn United States Army Sergeant for the love of all things holy!

  Closing her eyes, she sent up a quick prayer. Dear Lord, while I fix my body, will you fix my head?

  Chapter One

  Three weeks, Sandra had been home for three weeks, hanging out like a hair in a biscuit. She’d been so excited to come home, and the first week had been wonderful, Momma made all her favorite foods, chicken and dumplin’s, homemade mashed potatoes, chess pie. She’d probably gained ten pounds.

  Momma waited on her hand and foot, a good thing, because she couldn’t do shit, literally. Do you know how hard it is to wipe yourself with your left hand when you’re right handed? Just going to the bathroom was an ordeal, especially when she couldn’t really use crutches with her arm in a sling. Sandy was relegated to a wheelchair, having her mother push her around like a baby in a carriage, and that’s what she felt like...a big, bawling, whiny baby.

  Today, her first appointment with the physical therapist, and they had to drive all the way to Clarksville, an hour away. Of course she couldn’t drive, so once again, dependent on her mom. Daddy and Sammy were too busy with the shop to get away, and Suzie was in class, so she couldn’t take her.

  Once she started therapy the immobilization of her arm would end, but she didn’t know how long it would be before she had enough mobility to drive. God, she hoped it wouldn’t be long, the trips to Clarksville would be three times a week. She hated inconveniencing he mother like that. However, she knew her mom would never let her drive until the immobilizer come off her leg and that wasn’t scheduled for another three weeks. Oh, well, in the meantime at least she would be getting some exercise and seeing something besides the inside of the house for a few hours.

  Donna O’Donnell knocked on the side of the doorframe as she walked into her daughter’s bedroom and Sandra pushed down her irritation. Her mother had come to help her dress. Not to be able to do the simplest tasks for herself; put on a shirt, put her hair in a ponytail, tie her friggin’ shoes…humiliating.

  Yet, every time she got mad over the inconvenience and embarrassment, she felt guilty too. She was one of the lucky ones! She still had all her limbs, and she would be good as new in a few months. What about the men who lost their lives and weren’t coming home? What about the ones who came home without an arm or a leg? How dare she gripe about a little inconvenience that would be over in a few months? Survivor’s guilt, her counselor called it, and she understood it, but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

  “Good morning, baby. You ready for today?” her mother asked.

  Sandra pasted a smile on her face. Fake it until you make it. “You bet. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  “So, what are we wearing today?”

  “Well, I don’t know about we, but I’m not sure if I should be in ACUs or APFUs. I guess for today let’s go with the ACUs.”

  Donna arched a brow. “Daughter of mine, are you speaking English? What in the Sam hill is an ACU?”

  Sandra laughed a true laugh. “Sorry, Momma, I forget you’re not Army, ACUs are Army Combat Uniform, and APFUs are Physical Training Uniforms.”

  “Okay, that tells me what they are, still doesn’t tell me what they look like.” Donna laughed.

  “The camo uniform for today,” Sandra said.

  “Now that I can understand,” her mother replied. She pulled the cargo type pants and button up shirt from the closet.

  “Get me a green T-shirt to go under the shirt.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Her mother saluted.

  “Don’t salute me, soldier, I work for a living.” Sandra laughed.

  Her mother just shook her head. “I will never understand you, will I?”

  “Probably not, Momma, probably not.”

  Dressing, an arduous process between the leg immobilizer and the arm in a sling, however they got it done and her mother secured her hair in the request bun at the back of her head. For the first time in a month, Sandra felt almost like a squared away soldier.

  As her mother wheeled her out of the bedroom she said, “How about we stop at Dunkin Donuts and pick up a Dunkachino and some donuts to eat on the way?”

  “Oh, Momma, you are really spoiling me, but that sounds fabulous. I’m going to have to do extra P.T. to work off all the calories you’re feeding me though.”

  “Oh, pooh, men like curves to hold onto, baby. No man wants to go to bed with a stick, just ask your Daddy.”

  “TMI, Momma! You and Daddy don’t have sex. You know that. It’s in the box of things you’re not allowed to talk about.”

  “Yeah right, I found you and your brother and sister under a cabbage leaf in the garden, right?”

  “Exactly!”

  “You keep on thinking that, and we better buy you some ear plugs at the Dollar General while we’re out.”

  Sandra laughed. “Too late for that one, Momma. You got some lungs on you!”

  “What can I say, your Daddy is a stud muffin.”

  “Momma! I told you—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know—cabbage leaf.” The two of them laughed like loons and it felt good.

  After a quick trip to the drive thru, they were on their way to Clarksville. Nothing had really changed in the year Sandra had been away. They drove through the countryside and a few small towns. A pleasant hour’s drive had them reaching Fort Campbell.

  Showing I.D. at the guard gate, they were directed to the proper building. The Army base was the size of a small town in itself. They pulled up to the hospital and found a handicapped parking place. Sandra hated the fact that her mother had to muscle the wheelchair out of the trunk and around the side of the car by herself. Her mother always said “O’Donnell women are made of good stock,” good thing, her mother’s strength served as an asset, as did her boisterous spirit.

  The automatic doors swished open as they walked up to the front of the building and a convenient map told them the physical therapy department was on the fourth floor. A quick elevator ride upstairs and they found the department entrance. A corpsman sat at the reception desk as they entered the outer office.

  “How can I help you, Sergeant?”

  “I have an Appointment with Lieutenant Brooks.”

  She glanced at her computer. “You are Sergeant O’Donnell?”

  “Yes, Corporal.”

  “He’ll be right with you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Her mother wheeled her over to the side and took a seat in one of the waiting room chairs. Five minutes later one the most gorgeous men Sandra had ever laid eyes on emerged from the door beside the reception desk and called her name. Holy shit! She was supposed to answer, say words, right?

  Six foot four inches of sculpted muscle filled the doorway. He had twinkling green eyes, black, buzz cut hair, chiseled features, eyelashes she would kill for, and he smiled at her. Holy crap, I’m in trouble!

  He stepped forward and extended his hand. “Sergeant O’Donnell? I’m Lieutenant Caleb Brooks. I’ll be your physical therapist. If you’ll follow me into my office, we can go over your rehabilitation program and maybe even get started today. If you’re up to it.”

  Sandra blinked up at him and swallowed hard. She could not be crushing on her physical therapist. That just would not work. Pull it together girl! “Yes, sir.”

  He turned on his heel and Sandra and her mother followed him down the hall. Damn, the back side is better than the front, I bet you can bounce a quarter off that ass. Her mother smacked her in the back of the head and she looked over her shoulder at her and mouthed what?

  Knock it off! Her mother mouthed back.

&n
bsp; Sandra had the good grace to look sheepish.

  Yes, ma’am, she mouthed back, with a laugh.

  The lieutenant looked back at them and Sandra schooled her features and nodded at him to continue. He gave her an odd look but turned back around, leading them into a small office to the right of the corridor.

  “Here we are. Come on in and make yourselves comfortable. Can I get you some coffee?”

  “Thank you, but we’re fine,” her mother answered.

  Sandra, thankful her mother took charge, sat back and observed.

  Lieutenant Brooks sat behind his desk and folded his hands. “So, do you know much about the rehab process?”

  Sandra answered this time, “I Googled it, but that’s the only information I have so far. It said six months to a year of rehab, depending on the extent of the injury. Nothing really specific.”

  Those green eyes racked her body from top to bottom in a slow perusal and for once, Sandra thanked God for the thickness of the drab Army jacket she wore, because her nipples were standing at attention thanks to the lieutenant’s scrutiny. And despite the dampness seeping between her thighs, she was not going to give into the need to shift in her chair.

  “Judging by the level of fitness I note in your body, I’m sure we’ll have you back to tip top shape in six months without a problem. Today I’d like to start by assessing your level of mobility. The first thing I want to stress to you is, do not lie to me. I know soldiers. They want to push. Therapy is the one area where this is not advantageous, it is actually detrimental. If you overdo it, and overstress the muscles, you can put our treatment back by weeks, or sometimes even months if you really screw something up. Don’t misunderstand me, the exercises will be painful, to an extent, but be honest with me about the pain level. Do we understand each other?” he leveled a hard gaze at her with those emerald eyes, hard pressed to speak, she only nodded.

  “Good. Our first goal will be regaining the mobility in your arm. Getting it back to full motion. That will be the hardest part of the therapy. From there, we will move on to strengthening. Normally we would also do some general strength exercises also, like riding a stationary bike, but with your leg immobilized, obviously that won’t be happening until you are able to use it again. We’ll work on that when the immobilizer is removed. You’ll need that leg strengthened anyway, after all the time of disuse.”