Deacon Johns (Heartbreakers & Heroes Book 4)

by Ciana Stone

  “Well, what two people do?”

  “Good point. Okay, my turn. At the risk of being too nosey, what was that I saw that night in the Honky Tonk parking lot? I’ve been dying to ask.”

  Mica didn’t see any point in lying. “Just what it looked like.”

  “It looked like you were both into it.”

  “I can’t speak for him, but I most certainly was.”

  Etta angled to face Mica. “Okay, nosey me, but I’ve always been curious. There was a time I had a major crush on Deacon. Not that he’d ever give me the time of day in that respect and that’s okay because we became family and I needed that more than anything. But still, he’s fine in all capital letters and I’d be willing to bet that he’s pretty darn capable in the kissing department.”

  “Capable? No,” Mica said and then smiled. “Amazing? Oh my God, yes.”

  “Yeah?”

  Mica’s smile faded. “Yeah, really amazing. But he made it clear that wasn’t going to happen again.”

  “Oh? Why?”

  “Because I’m too young.”

  “Deacon has a thing about that.”

  “Age?”

  “Differences in age. He won’t go out with women who are young enough to be his daughter.”

  “Well, how old is he, anyway?”

  “Fifty-two.”

  “Then age can’t be the real issue.”

  “No?”

  “No. I’ll be forty next month.”

  Etta shrugged. “He probably thinks you’re younger than that. To be honest, I thought you were too when I first saw you. You can easily pass for someone in her late twenties or early thirties.”

  “It’s the Native blood.”

  “Are both of your parents Native American? I only ask because your coloring would suggest otherwise.”

  “No, my mother is one of the whitest women in America.”

  “Your tone suggests that you and your mother aren’t close.”

  “We’re not. She walked out on us when I was five and Matty was three.”

  “I’m sorry. That must have been hard for your father.”

  Mica loathed the rush of hatred the mention of her father provoked and tried to keep it from showing on her face. “No, nothing much mattered to him but where he was going to score his next bottle. I hated her for leaving, but then one day I grew up and understood. She was a silly, rich, white girl who fell for a handsome Native and thought it so romantic that they eloped a week after meeting.

  “Only it wasn’t so romantic anymore when her family cut her off right after Matty was born and she couldn’t get our father to hold down a steady job. She wasn’t a great mom back then, but she wasn’t a monster either. I guess she did the best she could until finally she couldn’t take it.

  “Her parents offered to let her come home. On one condition. She came alone.”

  “And she took it?”

  Mica nodded. “Indeed, she did. Without a backward glance. That’s when she graduated to monster. We never heard from her again.”

  “I’m sorry, Mica.”

  “Don’t be. Because of my parents, I learned to be strong and stand on my own. Maybe I wouldn’t have if things had been different.”

  “Still, it had to have been difficult for—”

  “We’re back.” JJ’s voice interrupted the conversation.

  Mica got up and gestured for JJ to sit beside Etta. Mathias took his customary seat in the recliner adjacent to the sofa that was angled toward the fireplace.

  “Mica, you and Matty have some amazing art,” JJ commented. “Matty’s ironwork is crazy good and Deacon was right about your blades. Not only are they works of art, but the quality is top notch. You have a couple I’d really like to talk to you about buying.”

  “Sure, but for now, how about you tell me your favorite and we’ll consider it a gift.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, in that case, the eight-inch hunting knife with the stag handle?”

  “Good choice.” Matty nodded. “I’ll go get it.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” JJ protested.

  “No, you don’t. I’ll run and get it,” Mica added.

  “I’ll do it,” Matty insisted, rose, and left the room.

  “He’s a lot quieter than I remember,” JJ said when the door closed. “What happened must have been bad.”

  Mica nodded. “I hate asking for help, but I really think he needs it. He won’t open up to me. I think he’s trying to protect me. But he needs someone he can trust and you all and Commander Johns are the only people I know that he does trust so, I guess I am asking.”

  “And we’re going to help him.” Etta said. “I’ve already spoken to Rear Admiral Angel and we’re going to work something out.”

  “Thank you.” Mica felt tears well up and quickly blinked them away. She didn’t cry and it shocked her that she now fought to keep from weeping.

  It had been a very long time since she’d experienced genuine human kindness from strangers. Her life had been one of maneuvering for power, profit, or both. Kindness was perceived as a weakness.

  Not, it appeared, by the people here and for the first in a very long time, she experienced a moment of real gratitude. If these people could help Matty, then coming here was worth it.

  Chapter Seven

  “Girl, you have it so bad,” Etta said with a bit of a winded voice as she and Mica sprinted the last set of their interval training run.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mica was just as out of breath and more than a bit disconcerted that Etta was able to read her so easily.

  “Sure you don’t. Like you haven’t looked toward that stable a dozen times since we started.”

  Mica slowed as they reached the start point and turned to make the return trip at a slower pace. “Okay, guilty as charged. But did it occur to you that I was thinking about Matty, rather than Deacon?”

  “It did, but you weren’t.” Etta grinned. “And it’s okay, you know. In fact, I’m hoping he’ll set aside that age thing for once.”

  “Yeah? Why?”

  “Because I think you’d be good for him and because he isn’t interested in many women.”

  “You’re saying he’s interested in me?” Mica’s pace slowed but her heartrate accelerated considerably.

  “I didn’t say that. I just said—”

  “Yeah, I heard.” Mica felt a swell of excitement. Etta wouldn’t say that without knowing it to be true and it strengthened her resolve to make Deacon want her enough that he’d come after her.

  Etta slowed to a walk and Mica followed suit. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  “I suppose,” Mica hated when people asked that because nine times out of ten they wanted to know something she didn’t want to reveal. But Etta was different. Even though they’d known one another only a short time, Mica already trusted her.

  “Were you involved with someone before you came here?”

  “Yes.”

  “For a while?”

  “Yes. For more than twenty years.”

  When Etta stopped dead in her tracks and gawked at Mica, she held up both hands, palm up in a what gesture. “Is that so hard to believe?”

  “Well, yes. I mean you’re not even forty so that would mean—”

  “He was the man who took me off the reservation.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I am. I was sixteen and wanted desperately to escape. He was my way out and I took it. I didn’t expect him to care, but as it turned out, he did. He loved me and was loyal to me, so I was loyal to him.”

  “Until?”

  “Until the day it ended and then I walked away.” Mica tried to answer in a way that wasn’t a lie, and also didn’t give away any details of her parting from Tony.

  “Were you in love with him?”

  “No. I loved him because he took care of me but I wasn’t in love with him. He gave me a home, fed and
clothed me so I could finish high school, and then he put me through college and gave me a job. And through it all, he gave me money to send home to Matty. I owed him more than I could ever repay.”

  Etta nodded and continued walking. After a few moments, she spoke again. “Have you ever been in love?”

  “No.” Mica didn’t feel hesitant at all to answer that question. There was no shame in her relationship with Tony and she’d spoken the truth to Etta. But she’d never been in love.

  “Can I ask another personal question?”

  “Sure, go for it.”

  “How was the sex?”

  Mica shrugged. “It was what he wanted it to be.”

  “And for you?”

  “Gratitude. A way of saying thank you.”

  “That’s really sad, Mica. You haven’t ever had a sexual relationship with a man that you wanted? I mean, that you were passionate about?”

  “No, but I’m not dead yet so there’s still hope.”

  “Ahh.” Etta nodded.

  “Ahh what?”

  “Deacon. He’s the first, isn’t he? The first man you’ve ever been passionate about.”

  Mica almost lied, then changed her mind. “Yes.”

  Etta stopped walking and faced Mica. “So what’re you going to do about that?”

  “Make him passionate about me.”

  “You say that with a good deal of confidence. Not that I doubt it, mind you. Hell, if I swung that way I’d be after you, but what makes you think you’ll succeed? He’s pretty firm in his convictions.”

  There was a small part of Mica that wanted to just blurt out the truth to Etta, but even that miniscule portion knew better. Not only would she open herself up to potential danger, but worse, she’d put Matty at risk and she wasn’t about to do anything that would endanger him.

  Her family wasn’t populated by good people. Not her mother, her father, or even herself. Matty was the only good that had come from her family and she would protect him to her dying breath. He was the one among them all who needed to flourish, to find someone and have a family and produce more good people, because the world sorely needed them.

  So she just smiled. “I’m not really a conceited woman, so it’s not that I think so highly of myself, my looks, or my appeal. I’m just a student of desire. Watching and learning what makes people tick and what they want. Given enough time, I can normally discover anyone’s tick and then I know what to offer so that it won’t be turned down. It’s something of value in business situations, but can also apply to personal interactions.”

  “Damn, woman, you sound Machiavellian. What the hell did you do before you came here?”

  Mica shrugged. “I’ve been called worse. And I worked for a man who owned a lot of businesses.”

  Etta shook her head. “And just when I thought I had you figured out.”

  “Mica!”

  They both turned at the sound of a man’s voice. Mathias stood beside their old pickup Bad that was parked outside the barn. Deacon stood with him.

  With a wave, Mica headed in their direction with Etta beside her. “Good morning,” she greeted Deacon as she stopped beside the truck.

  “Good morning. Have a good run?”

  “We did.” Mica smiled as Etta spoke up.

  “She’s kicking my butt.”

  “Hardly,” Mica scoffed. “But it’s really nice to have a friend to work out with. I tried running with Matty and well—you can imagine how that went. I have to take four steps for every one of his.”

  Matty smiled and everyone else chuckled. “So, are you ready to go?” Mica asked her brother. “I thought it was going to take you several hours?”

  “I have to come back tomorrow. I need more shoes.”

  “Okay, great. Well…” She turned to Etta. “Thanks again. See you on Monday at the park in town?”

  “Seven a.m. sharp.”

  “Excellent.” Mica then looked at Deacon. “And we’ll see you on Sunday?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Okay, Matty, let’s hit the road. You all have a good day.”

  She and Matty got in the truck and left. Mica gave a parting wave to Etta and Deacon who stood watching the truck drive away. It wasn’t lost on her the way he’d looked at her when she and Etta walked up.

  His eyes took in her appearance and then his gaze met hers. She knew in that moment that no matter what else might be happening, he was attracted to her. Whether she’d find a way to break through his barriers on the age thing was still undecided, but she was going to give it her best try to destroy that wall.

  “Commander Johns wants me to go into therapy with Doc Whitestone.” Matty interrupted her thoughts.

  “And?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think what’s important is how you feel about it. Do you think it might help you feel better if you talked with her?”

  “I don’t know. It did once. But that was different.” He looked over at her. “That was when I was still a good man.”

  That broke Mica’s heart and brought a wash of tears that flowed down her face. “Oh, Matty, don’t say that. You’re the best person I’ve ever known. You can’t blame yourself for following orders.”

  “Yes, I can. Until I find a way to make recompense for what I did, my soul is stained, Mica. Stained with the blood of innocents.”

  “I’m sorry, I just don’t agree, but what I feel isn’t important. So maybe you should talk with Etta. Maybe she can help you find a way to remove that stain. I want to help but I don’t know how. Maybe it’s because I never was a good person like you. Maybe I shouldn’t have left you all those years ago. If I’d made you go with me—”

  “That’s an old path, sister. We’ve already walked it. You tried to talk me into leaving. I wouldn’t go. That’s the end of it. You did what you thought you had to do and because you did, I always had clothes and food and a roof over my head.

  “I know you did it for love. For me. And I’ll always love you. But you’re right. You can’t help with this. It’s my pain and my guilt and I need someone besides you to help me find my way through.”

  “Then talk to Etta. Spend time with Deacon or JJ or do whatever you need to do. Just find your way home, Matty.”

  He looked at her with a smile so sad that fresh tears erupted. “And where would that be, sister?”

  “With me, little brother. At least for now. But one day—well, one day it will be with a woman who loves you.”

  He made a derisive sound. “Dream on, sister.”

  “You wait and see,” Mica argued, then turned to look out of the side window. She and Matty were, in some ways, as different as night and day, but in others, they were very much alike. Neither believed they were worthy of love.

  Mica didn’t think she’d ever lose that opinion of herself. But then, her unworthiness stemmed from the choices she’d made for her life. Deliberate and sometimes well thought out choices.

  It wasn’t the same for Matty. He was guilty only of following the orders of those he’d sworn to obey, in service to his country.

  Their sins weren’t the same at all. Not even close.

  Chapter Eight

  Mica didn’t expect to find people standing on the sidewalk outside of the shop when she opened the door, but sure enough, two people stood there, a man and a woman. She was as shocked by their appearance as their presence.

  The man was tall, almost as tall as Matty, and with the kind of looks and build that are typically only found in a woman’s fantasy. The woman with him was just as impressive, tall and seriously built.

  “Hi,” Mica greeted them. “Come in.”

  “Thanks,” the woman said as she entered. “I’m Charli Judd and this is my husband, Grady.”

  “Grady Judd the SEAL, right?” Mica had heard about Grady from Matty.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “My brother, Matty, has mentioned you several times. And Dr. Whitestone tells me that you served as well, Mrs. Judd. Delta, I belie
ve?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s an honor to meet you both and thank you for your service.”

  Both of them smiled, and nodded and Mica continued. “What can I help you with today?”

  “Deacon—Commander Johns mentioned that you have a good selection of knives.”

  “A few. Please, have a look around,” Mica offered.

  “Thanks.” Grady began perusing the knives, but Charli stayed in place.

  “I hear you’ve been putting Etta through her paces,” Charli said.

  “Oh, I don’t know. That woman’s a natural runner.”

  “She is.” Charli smiled. “She and Deacon speak highly of your brother, as does her fiancé JJ.”

  “Thank you. Matty is a good man. He’s just going through a difficult time.”

  “Etta can help with that.” Charli put her hand on Mica’s arm and gave it a slight squeeze. “So can Deacon and JJ and Grady, too. You know SEALs are family, right? They take care of their own, so if there’s something you and Matty need…”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that. Everyone has been so kind.”

  Charli looked around. “Etta said you did amazing work. How did you learn to do this?”

  Mica smiled. This was a question she could answer with complete honesty. “When Matty and I were growing up on the reservation, the local blacksmith was one of our favorites. We hung out at the smith more than we did at home and he taught us. Matty was attracted to the forge, shaping metal, but I liked creating blades.

  “So, I kept doing it and made it a hobby until we decided to buy this place and now I guess it’s no longer a hobby.”

  “Do you take special orders?” Grady asked.

  “Sure, if there’s something special you want, and I can handle the job.”

  “Boot knives.”

  “Boot knives?” Mica grinned. “You just hit my happy button. Let me show you a set I recently completed.”

  She went behind the counter, took a small wooden box from the shelf, and placed it on the countertop. Grady walked over, opened the box, and picked up one of the knives inside and slid it from its sheath. “This is gorgeous. Stainless steel?”

  “High chromium martensitic stainless steel, hardened and tempered to a mirror finish. The handle is high nickel, high chromium stainless steel for the bolsters and fittings and Carnival crazy lace agate gemstone. The sheath is ostrich skin with hand-carved leather inserts.”