True Horizon

by Laurie Winter

  He pulled her into his arms, holding her tight against his damp chest. “I’d rather die than hurt you, which is why I can’t be with you.”

  She trembled against him. “I’m tougher than you think. Don’t push me away. Trust me enough to let me in. I promise to listen and not judge.”

  A flash of lightning brightened the sky, followed by a loud clap of thunder. Grace jumped but didn’t move out of Heath’s embrace. The threat of the storm was nothing compared to the danger of losing him.

  Heath dropped his arms and stepped back. “Get inside the car. You’re not safe out here in this storm.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not leaving?” The roar of her voice clashed with a crack of thunder.

  Standing before her, Heath visibly shook. With a surprising strength, he reached out to pull her against his body. His mouth descended in a rush of unyielding passion.

  He was not gentle, and she didn’t want him to be. She wrapped both arms around his neck and grabbed a fistful of his shirt. As she stood in the pouring rain with the wind whipping around them, Heath clung to her. She molded so perfectly into his body.

  Her fingers ran through his short, damp hair, and his deep groan sent her over the edge. She wanted a crazy kind of love like this—the kind that had you standing in the middle of the storm, feeling like the only two people on earth. Heath touched an exposed portion of skin on her back. The sensation sent her soaring. She never wanted to come down.

  “I love you.” His voice thickened. “Grace, I love you.” He nuzzled his face against her neck.

  The earthy smell of his cologne tickled her nose. “Trust me,” she said. “Let me be there for you. I want to be a part of your healing.”

  “Trusting you has never been a problem. I don’t trust myself.” Heath wrapped his body around her, protecting her from the rain. “Let’s go to the car. We can talk where it’s dry.”

  She ran hand in hand back to her car and climbed inside, caught between laughter and an attempt to catch her breath. Grace turned the key to start the engine and cranked the heat. Heath leaned over to kiss her, holding her face like a precious jewel.

  “You need to know the whole story.” He touched his cold nose to hers. “Once you hear everything, you may change your mind.”

  “Doubtful.” Lowering her gaze, she saw their hands wound together. She couldn’t tell where hers ended and his began.

  “Let’s go home and dry off. Then, I’ll tell you my story, but I’m warning you, it’s not PG. I won’t blame you if you never want to see me again.”

  She nodded in understanding and put the car into Drive. After performing a U-turn, she drove back to the missed turn-off and headed home. What if she couldn’t handle what he’d soon share? In reality, she was scared she’d fold under the ugly truth. War was something she was fundamentally opposed to, and Heath was a soldier and the man she loved. In her mind, she worked to reconcile the two.

  The bright beams of the car headlights cut through the darkness of the ranch and illuminated Heath’s bunkhouse. She parked, and then followed him to the front door. Once inside, Heath grabbed her, pressed her back against the door, and proceeded to kiss away her breath. Her lips parted at the onslaught. She lost all sense of time and place.

  After Heath pulled away, he walked into his bedroom and returned holding a pair of drawstring shorts and a very large T-shirt. “These are too big, but at least they’re dry.”

  She went into the bathroom, changed out of her wet clothes, and towel dried her hair. When she came out wearing his clothing, she was thankful to be warm.

  Heath had also changed and started brewing a pot of coffee. He poured her a mug of the steaming liquid, followed by a dash of creamer.

  “Thanks.” Her outstretched hands took the warm mug. The aromatic fragrance helped Grace regain her sense of calm.

  Heath put down his mug on the table and sat on an empty wooden chair. As he pulled the chair in toward the table, the legs scraped along the plank floor, and the sound reverberated through the otherwise-quiet house. Leaning his elbows on the table, he stared.

  She smiled in an attempt to reassure him. If she was nervous, she could only imagine how fearful he was of sharing terrible things from his past.

  He cleared his throat. “You already know my Aunt Linda took me in after my mom died. My dad was in prison, and I was on the fast track to prison myself. Aunt Linda gave me the love and support I’d lacked in my life. I was not an easy teenager, but she was tough and fair. During one especially difficult spell, she drove me to the Army recruiting office and made me listen to their pitch. Afterward, I knew the Army was what I was meant to do. I took to the military like a duck to water.” He took a sip of coffee and smiled. “First, I was an infantry man, then Airborne, next I became a Ranger. Finally, after five years, I passed the Special Forces qualification and earned my Green Beret.”

  “It seems the Army saved you…put you on the straight and narrow.”

  “Without the strict discipline and guidance, I probably would’ve ended up in jail.” He shrugged, and his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “John and I were assigned to the same Special Forces team. We became fast friends. Brothers in every sense of the word. One day, we were called into our commander’s office and told we were tapped for Delta Force assessment. After weeks of grueling tests, John and I were both selected for Delta. We weren’t just running with the big dogs anymore…we’d joined a pack of Bullmastiffs.”

  While Heath talked, Grace remained quiet. She was stunned and impressed by his rise up the ranks. He’d worked hard to become elite in his field. So far, he’d only told her how he’d become an exceptional soldier, not a killer.

  “Delta Force is called in for the most difficult and secretive assignments. Only a few people know the details for any given mission. I raided lots of buildings and killed lots of bad guys, mostly under the cover of darkness.” A muscle twitched on his clenched jaw, and he scowled. “We were the angels of death.”

  She imagined Heath dressed in full gear, kicking down doors with a rifle in hand. A departure from the normally quiet-mannered man she knew.

  He reclined in his chair and wiped a hand down his face. “I was trained to provide medical trauma care in the field. Some soldiers were beyond saving. I watched several of my brothers die in combat. The loss of John was the most difficult to bear, and I still blame myself for his death.”

  Grace covered his hand with hers. As she gazed into his hazel eyes, which held a bottomless pool of sorrow, her heart ached.

  “My life in the Army was a crazy roller-coaster ride of deployments, with short bursts of time at home. If a crisis happened anywhere in the world, my team could be recalled at a moment’s notice. I loved every minute of it. But after John died, something inside me changed. I wanted revenge and didn’t care who or what got in my way.”

  “That’s understandable.” Her words were only partially true. She could never understand what he’d experienced. Grace cleared her throat in hopes of clearing the choking emotion that settled there.

  “When Operation Command sent my unit back to Afghanistan, I was out for blood. I hated everything the country represented. My commander had to reprimand me several times.” Heath’s eyes misted over.

  She took a calming breath. “Your best friend was taken from you. You were angry.”

  He took another drink of coffee, and then exhaled. “During my last month in Afghanistan, my unit was charged with the kill or capture of one of Afghan’s most wanted. When we finally located him, he was holed up in a rural compound. After a lengthy gun battle, we came to a stalemate. Two of our guys were shot and had to be medevaced out. I was so desperate to capture the guy, either dead or alive, I pushed for Close Air Support. The bombers would target the hostiles and clear them out.”

  “You wanted to drop a bomb?” Shock numbed her body. The muscles in his arm twitched, causing his tattoos to ripple like they’d come alive.

  “I worked with our TACP
, our Tactical Air Control Party, to secure coordinates for the drop. Afterward, we went to secure the scene and survey the damage.” He shifted in his chair and dropped his gaze to the table. “I discovered a hut of women and children hidden behind the main structure. We never knew civilians were in the area.”

  Grace’s stomach lurched at the image of innocent women and children, who’d been scared and hurt. “What happened to them, Heath?” Her voice quivered. “What did you do?”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  He wouldn’t blame Grace if she walked out the door and never spoke to him again. The incident had been three years ago, and he still couldn’t forgive himself. Seeing the horrified look on her face, as he told her about the bomb drops he’d helped coordinate nearly sent him fleeing in shame. Fat tears roll down Grace’s face as he explained how he’d found the destroyed hut, dead bodies strewn across the ground.

  “They all died?” Grace choked. She swiped away tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

  “Yes. We didn’t know they were there. The Taliban put those people there as hostages to use for their own escape, but I was the one who pushed for the bombs.” The last confession of a condemned man. “I see those people around me, in the faces of young children. I relive that day over and over in my dreams. My nightmares are violent. Anyone sleeping next to me would be in danger.” A warning. Loving him was unsafe.

  She scooted back in her chair. “Is your therapy helping with the nightmares and flashbacks?”

  “The process is slow. And I’ll never be totally free of the effects of war. Colleen is teaching me coping techniques. Plus, I have started an anti-anxiety medication. I spent a long time getting into this deep hole, and I’ll need some time to dig myself out.” He raised his gaze to the sight of Grace’s tear-reddened face. Her pain nearly tore him in two. He’d left a blood stain on pure white snow.

  “Your story is a lot to take in.” Grace crossed her arms over her chest. “I just don’t know what to say.”

  “I understand.” His heart squeezed with panic. Did she see him as an evil monster?

  Grace stood.

  Heath thought she was heading to the door.” His stomach lurched, but he wouldn’t stop her. Instead, she walked around the table and curled up on his lap like a small child, resting her head on his chest. For several minutes, all he heard was the beating of their synced hearts.

  She sighed. “My feelings haven’t changed. What happened was…horrible. But I know you were put into a difficult situation and under extreme stress. You are a good man.” Her finger tapped over his heart.

  She’s not giving up on me. A wave of calm washed over him.

  If only he could carry her away, to a world without need for soldiers or war. Only love. “You’re better than I deserve. The smartest thing I’ve ever done was jump into the river after you.” His arms tightened around her. “You are the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and I never in a million years thought I had any right to love you.”

  “Good thing I’m a klutz.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’ll need time to digest everything you shared with me.”

  He pressed his cheek to the top of her head. Her hair was still damp and smelled like flowers and rain. “I can live with that.”

  “I should get going.”

  Her mouth said one thing, but her eyes told him another story. Heath took her face gently in his hands and drew her into a long kiss. Feeling her caress inflamed his desire. He wanted more. Instead he pulled back, taking long, steadying breaths. “I’ve just told you some pretty awful things. Make sure a relationship with me is what you really want.”

  Grace passed the back of her hand across the scruff on his face. “Only good dreams tonight,” she whispered.

  As she ran across the dark yard, to her parents’ house, a bright star shot across the sky. What chance did his heart ever stand when even the stars couldn’t help but fall for her?

  ****

  The next morning, Grace found her mother in the kitchen, armed with a litany of questions. Cupboards slammed and dishes rattled in punctuation of Joslyn’s tirade.

  Yes, she had been in Heath’s bunkhouse last night. No, she wasn’t marrying Tyler. And yes, Heath was the man her heart had chosen.

  “I don’t believe it.” Joslyn spun to face Grace and threw her arms in the air. “You’ve pined for Tyler Ross since the day you got your first pimple.”

  She half expected the glassware to shatter from her mother’s shrill voice. “Please calm down. You’ll wake up Dad.” Grace paced in front of the kitchen counter. “Over the years, I made Tyler the perfect man, and I’ve realized he and I don’t see eye to eye on a lot of important things. Marrying him wouldn’t be fair to him or to me.”

  Joslyn arched her eyebrows, creasing her normally smooth-as-ivory forehead. “You want to talk about fair? You’re tossing aside Tyler, a man who adores you, for someone who’s only home is our bunkhouse.”

  “Leave Heath out of this.” Grace’s temper flared. “The reason I broke off the engagement has nothing to do with Heath.”

  “Really?” Her mother crossed her arms, and her foot tapped-tapped-tapped on the porcelain tile floor. “I think Heath has everything to do with the cancellation of your wedding. You changed the day you fell off the bridge.”

  Grace sighed in resignation. This repeated conversation had been as productive as a dog chasing its own tail. “I realize you only want what’s best for me, but please trust me, I wouldn’t be happy with the life Tyler wants. I don’t want to live in Dallas and become a neglected oil executive’s wife.”

  “Oh, stop being so overdramatic.” Joslyn’s face softened, and she opened her arms. “Honey, I love you. I’m worried you’re making a hasty decision based on feelings for a man who could potentially ruin your life.”

  Stepping into her mother’s embrace, she groaned. “Why won’t you give Heath a chance?” How could her mother not see what a kind and nurturing man Heath was? He spent hours in the fields, caring for their herd of cattle. Or how perfect he and Grace were together?

  “Your dad and I gave him a place to live and a job, even after he was thrown in jail. Yes, we know all about the bar fight. We live in a small town, and people talk. Don’t ask me to entrust that kind of man with my daughter.”

  Grace turned toward the window which overlooked the meadow behind the house. “Just because Tyler has money, comes from the right family, and dresses well doesn’t mean he’s perfect. He left on a month-long business trip right before our wedding. His career has always taken precedence over me.”

  “Tyler will be here tomorrow,” her mother said. “Promise you’ll talk with him and give him a chance to work things out.”

  “I already agreed to talk with Tyler tomorrow, but right now, I need some space. I’ll be at Molly’s place.” She walked out of the kitchen and headed up the stairs.

  “Grace,” her mother called. “Please think of your father. Seeing you throw away a secure marriage to run off with the hired hand will break his heart.”

  Those were the last words she heard before she fled into her room. Twenty minutes later, she was driving to Molly’s.

  When she arrived, her friend waited at the door.

  Grace entered Molly’s townhouse and set her bag on the floor. “My mother will be the death of me.” Her best friend had been there for many of Grace’s disagreements with her mother. She knew better than anyone about Grace’s frustrations and heartaches. “Can I move in with you until I find a place in town to rent?”

  “You’re always welcome here, but I don’t think moving here will solve the problem. Tell me what’s going on.” Molly led her to a cream-colored sofa. Both women sat, legs tucked underneath and faced each other. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together.”

  As she told Molly everything that had happened in the past week, Molly’s face stayed neutral.

  To her friend’s credit, she didn’t criticize her decision to jump into a relationship with Heat
h. Once the heavy stuff was out of the way, they spent the rest of the day binge-watching an entire season of Zombie Survivor and eating junk food. For a little while, Grace forgot about her troubled love life.

  As the sun set, Molly cracked open a bucket of frozen margarita. By two a.m., Grace was very tipsy and reluctantly called it a night. Crawling into the bed in the guest room, she became infected with a case of the giggles. Maybe her silliness was a release of stress or too much alcohol. She lay under the purple blanket and laughed until tears streamed from her eyes.

  Molly opened the door and poked in her head. “What’s so funny?”

  “I don’t know.” Grace hiccupped. Clearly, she was overtired. “I was remembering when you threw Heath in jail. He looked a mess, and his beard and face were covered in blood. Now, I’m in love with him. My mother’s right.” She sat up, and the room tipped to one side. “I’ve lost my mind.” A burst of laughter followed her statement.

  Molly sat on the edge of the bed. “That night, I saw a spark between the two of you. Heath was working off a buzz, and you were playing Florence Nightingale. The way he responded to you was special. Tyler screwed up big time by leaving you for so long.”

  Instantly sobering, Grace’s goofy smile turned serious. “I know you don’t approve of Heath, but thank you for your support. You’re a good friend, Molly Hernandez.”

  Molly rose to her feet. “Someday, when I find the man of my dreams, you can return the favor.” She stood barefoot, wearing pink bunny fleece pants and a Liberty Ridge PD T-shirt.

  Last year, Molly had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. Grace was by her side through treatment. Now, Molly contemplated life outside their small town as a Federal Drug Enforcement Agent.

  Grace had never loved her friend more than she did at that moment. “I promise.” She scooted back underneath the blanket. “Good night.”

  “Night.” Molly closed the door.

  Grace turned off the bedside light. In the darkness, she replayed Heath’s story from the night before. Her body sickened with raw grief for the innocent women and children who died. The man who’d witnessed such horrible things was the same one whose kiss melted her core. Two sides of the same coin.