Deacon Johns (Heartbreakers & Heroes Book 4)

by Ciana Stone

  “This is amazing.” Grady passed the knife to Charli who turned it over and over in her hand.

  “This really is a work of art. Just out of curiosity, how much does a knife like this go for?”

  “Around five thousand.”

  “Five thousand dollars?” Charli looked at her in obvious surprise.

  “It takes a lot of time and expensive materials.”

  “Wow. I’d be afraid to let it out of its box.”

  “Knives are tools, first and foremost,” Mica said. “They can be made to be beautiful, but they’re still tools.”

  “Or weapons,” Grady pointed out.

  “A killing tool is still a tool,” Mica replied. “But I don’t make them with any intended use in mind. I just love the way they look.”

  “You’re an unusual person.” Charli commented. “I’ve never known anyone who did this for a living.”

  “And I’ve never known a female Special Forces badass, so I’d say I’m coming out on top,” Mica replied.

  “Well, I don’t know about badass but thanks. I’m glad we finally met, and I’d love to meet your brother.”

  “And I’d like to see him again,” Grady added.

  “Then come with me to the Smithy.” Mica said and when Grady started to put the knife into the box, added. “And take that with you.”

  “Girl, I love it, but five K is a bit much for a knife.”

  “I didn’t say buy it. It’s a gift. For Charli.”

  “No. I can’t do that,” Charli protested. “You can’t just give away—”

  “Sure I can,” Mica replied. “And I’d like you to have it.”

  “Really?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  “Well, damn.” Charli looked at Grady and then at Mica. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Come on let me introduce you to Matty.”

  Charli and Grady accompanied her out of the back door and into the blacksmith shop. Matty was just taking off his heavy leather apron when they entered.

  “Matty? We have company.”

  Matty turned and at first, his face wore a scowl, but after a second of looking at Grady, he smiled. “Grady Judd.”

  “Mathias.” Grady walked over and the two men hugged in that manly fashion that seemed universal for the male of the species. Back-pounding embraces that ended with the two of them grinning at each other.

  “This is my wife, Charli.” Grady gestured for Charli and she hurried over to take Matty’s hand.

  “It’s a pleasure, Mathias.”

  “I’m honored, ma’am.” He released her hand and looked at Grady. “Never thought I’d see a ring on your finger.”

  “Neither did I.”

  “Congratulations, sir.”

  “Thanks, Mathias.”

  Mica looked up at everyone. “I feel like I suddenly walked into the land of the giants.”

  Everyone got a laugh out of that. “I’m going to get out of your way and let you catch up with Matty, but thank you for stopping by and I hope we’ll see you again.”

  “Maybe we could get together for dinner one night,” Grady suggested. “There’s a good steakhouse in town.”

  Mica saw the stricken look on Matty’s face and answered quickly, “Or you could come for dinner here. Well, at the house. We live just out back in the Dawsons’ place and I can’t cook gourmet, but I grill a mean steak with mushroom sauce.”

  “That sounds good,” Charli said and after a nod from Grady, added, “We’d love to. When?”

  “Tonight?”

  “Works for me,” Grady said and Charli agreed. “Me too, I get off at four. Oh, but we do have a little girl.”

  “I love children. Does she have any special dietary needs?”

  “Not at all. Josie loves just about anything. But what can I bring?”

  “Your appetite,” Mica said. “Thank you. I’m really looking forward to it.”

  “Me too,” Charli said.

  “Okay, I’ll leave you to visit. See you later. Say, seven?”

  “Perfect,” Charli answered.

  “Great. See you then.” Mica returned to the storefront, wondering if she’d done Matty a favor or disservice by leaving him alone. He needed to start being social again and how better to start than with someone he knew, like Grady.

  *****

  Mica stood looking at the packages of wrapped beef. She’d eaten her share of beef, but had no real clue how to select a good cut. Matty normally did that, but since they’d been in Cotton Creek he’d yet to venture out to a grocery store. So, here she stood, trying to decide what to buy.

  “Can’t decide?” A high-pitched, almost childlike voice asked from beside her.

  A smile came immediately to her face when she beheld the woman beside her. It was the Rhinestone Queen from the Honky Tonk. Today, the woman’s hair was ratted out just as high with a mountain of cascading curls to frame a face that was artfully painted with pancake makeup, black arched brows, blue eyeshadow, two bright spots of blush on her cheeks, and lips as rosy as her matching jacket and pants.

  “Hi. And actually, I don’t really know how to choose. Any advice?”

  “Oh, you poor thing, have you never bought beef?”

  “My brother usually does this part of the shopping and I’m afraid I don’t know what’s good or bad.”

  “Well, let me help you, sugar.” The little old woman smiled sweetly and began pointing to the various packages, talking about the fat content, marbling, and such. Mica paid attention and with the woman’s help, selected steaks for dinner with the Judds and a roast for Sunday dinner.

  “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this,” Mica said. “Oh, I’m sorry, my manners are awful. I’m Mica Gray Horse. My brother and I just bought the blacksmith shop.”

  “You’re the Indian girl?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Mica had long ago gotten over taking offense at people referring to her as an Indian.

  “Well, I’m Nellie Mae Baker and honey, let me tell you, I don’t have a prejudiced bone in my body.”

  “I appreciate that, Mrs. Baker. You’re very kind to help me like this.”

  “Do you know how to cook that meat, sugar?”

  “Well, the steaks, yes. Mathias, my brother, will cook them on the grill. The roast I’ll just put in the oven, with maybe some potatoes and onions and carrots piled around it?”

  “Yes, you could do it that way. Or…” Nellie Mae smiled. “You could wow your dinner party with my secret recipe.”

  Mica almost wanted to hug the little woman. She seemed eager to be friendly. “Really? That would be fantastic.”

  “Well, do you have something to write with?”

  “No, but how about I treat you to breakfast in the morning at the diner and you can give it to me then?”

  “Oh, that’d be just peachy, sugar.”

  “Great, it’s a date. What time is good for you?”

  “Eight would be good.”

  “Then eight it is. And thank you again, Mrs. Baker. You’re a godsend.”

  “My pleasure, honey. And you call me Nellie Mae. See you tomorrow.”

  “Thank you. I look forward to it, Nellie Mae.”

  Mica smiled and headed for the checkout. As she stood in line, she spotted Nellie Mae with another older woman, a stunning blonde who had to have been a true knockout in her youth. Nellie Mae was talking a mile a minute and the blonde was nodding and smiling politely. Mica got the idea that Nellie Mae was the type who loved to talk and didn’t require anyone to say much else.

  That was fine with Mica. She’d rather listen than talk.

  She paid for her groceries, loaded them into the truck, and headed home. She was looking forward to the dinner with Charli and Grady and hoped Matty would be feeling sociable. It would be great if he could find it in himself to be a little less solitary.

  Her thoughts turned to Sunday. Just thinking about seeing Deacon brought an unaccustomed sense of excitement. Thanks to the life she’d led u
ntil she came here, she didn’t have experience with this kind of thing. Sure, she knew how to flirt, but she didn’t know how to manage the feelings he inspired and wondered if these feelings were common.

  Maybe one day she’d summon the courage to ask Etta. Or not. If she revealed her lack of experience in this kind of socialization, she’d have to reveal something about her past.

  And she wasn’t willing for anyone to know that.

  Chapter Nine

  She saw him the moment she rounded the corner of the block. Mica slowed her pace to enjoy the sight as long as possible. Deacon was walking in her direction, glancing into the store windows as he made his way down the sidewalk. She loved watching him, his steady pace, strong posture, and when he finally looked in her direction, those icy eyes that probably could freeze a man with their chill, but heated her to near boiling the moment his gaze zeroed in on her.

  Mica stopped as they reached one another and smiled up at him. “Hi.”

  “Good morning.” His smile was as inviting as his tone, which prompted several sexy imaginings.

  “Are you in town to shop?”

  “No. Meeting Mason and someone from the Navy for breakfast about the new facility.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, am I holding you up?”

  “Not at all. I’m early.”

  “How early?”

  “Half an hour.”

  “Well, color me lucky then. I’m early for a breakfast with a lady from town who helped me pick out meat at the grocery store. What do you say we walk over together?”

  To her delight, he offered his arm. No man had ever done that, and she was thrilled to take his arm. They crossed the street and walked slowly down the sidewalk.

  “How’s Mathias?” Deacon asked.

  “Doing well. At least I think so. He tries so hard to hide his pain from me.”

  “He wants to protect you.”

  “I know.” She looked up at him. “And I love him for it, but sometimes he needs to let me take care of him.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t know how.”

  “Is that the way of things with men? They can only be the protectors, but never the protected? Aren’t there times men need a shoulder to lean on or just arms to hold them close and lend comfort?”

  “I guess we want to be protectors. It’s how we prove our strength and I suppose our worthiness. But yes, there are times everyone needs comfort.”

  “Do you?” She looked up at him.

  He shrugged and looked away, and Mica remained silent. “What about you?” His question was unexpected and it was her turn to look away, pretending interest in a storefront window.

  “What about me?”

  Deacon stopped walking so she pretended to be interested in the display in the boutique window. “You and Mathias seem to be cut from the same cloth,” he said. “Each wanting to safeguard the other. Do you ever give in and allow someone to comfort you?”

  “I—well, I don’t guess there has been an offer.” It bothered her that she’d revealed something of herself, so she hurried to mask her confession. “Besides, I’m fine. I’ve been on my own for a long time.”

  “And you don’t get lonely?”

  “I’ve always been lonely.” Oh dear God, what’s wrong with you? She was horrified. What was it about Deacon that pulled truths from her?

  “A woman as beautiful as you should never be lonely.”

  Mica turned in toward him, still gripping his arm. “Why, Commander Johns, did you just flirt with me?”

  “Do you want me to flirt with you, Mica?”

  “More than you can imagine.”

  Deacon blew out his breath and raised his free hand to stroke his fingers gently down the side of her face. “As much as I’d like that, you’re too young.”

  “No, I’m not and before you argue, may I say that in a month I’ll be forty, so that can’t be too young.”

  “Twelve years’ difference is a lot.”

  “Only if you want it to be. Is that it?”

  “No.”

  “Then don’t let it be.”

  “Why?” His hand moved to cup the side of her face.

  “Because it just might be real.”

  “Or it just might be fantasy.”

  “Is fantasy so bad?”

  “I don’t know, what do you think?”

  Mica took a chance, stood on tiptoe, and brushed her lips against his before whispering, “I think I’d love to be your fantasy.”

  She stepped back and smiled. “Can we expect you for dinner tomorrow, Commander Johns?”

  “You can, Ms. Gray Horse.”

  “I’ll look forward to it. Have a nice day.”

  “And you.”

  She continued on to the diner and found Nellie Mae sitting on one of the wooden benches that flanked the entrance door. “Good morning, Nellie Mae. You look very pretty and sassy this morning.”

  Indeed, Nellie Mae did in her spring yellow pants and matching top with a yellow and green mingled sweater topping the shirt. Sunflower earrings with sparkling centers decorated her ears and matching hairpins peeked from the swirl of curls she had artfully spilling from an up-do.

  Mica opened the door for Nellie Mae and they went in and found a table. The diner wasn’t packed, but was certainly busy. After they’d placed their orders and had their coffee cups filled, Nellie Mae leaned forward, speaking over her cup that was held in both hands with her elbows propped on the table. “Were my eyes fooling me or did I see you out there on the sidewalk with that fella from the rehab center? Not one of the young ones, but that older man.”

  “Commander Johns? Yes, ma’am, you did.”

  “How do you know him?”

  “Well, I didn’t really until we moved here, but my brother Mathias served under him once.”

  “Your brother is one of those SEALs?”

  “He was, yes ma’am.”

  “They let Indians join up?”

  “Amazingly, yes.” Mica didn’t have it in her to be offended. She understood that Nellie Mae was from another generation, one that had been possessed of a lot of prejudice. The fact that the old lady would sit and break bread with an “Indian” said that she wasn’t as prejudiced as many of her generation. Of course, Mica suspected that were it not for her curiosity, Nellie Mae might be a tad more prejudiced.

  “Well, that old fella—Commander Johns, you said? I’ve seen him in town with that shrink lady. In fact, talk was when they first showed up was that they were an item. Then she took up with that other fella that was sent here for treatment.”

  Nellie Mae made a show of looking around before continuing. “And just between us, you know that doctor lady took up with that patient while he was under care. But you didn’t hear it from me.”

  “No, ma’am, I certainly did not.”

  “So back to this Commander Johns. I saw the way you were cozied up to him. What do you want with an old man like that?”

  “He’s not old. And he’s so handsome. Big and strong and oh dear Lord, those eyes.”

  Nellie Mae chuckled. “Well, I’ve give him that. He’s a looker. But old enough to be your daddy, sugar, and take it from someone who married a man twenty years her senior. That age difference seems like nothing at first, but over time it starts to tell and suddenly you’re a woman in your prime, taking care of a sick old man.”

  “Was your husband sickly in his final years?”

  “My first mister died of a heart attack. Right there in the driveway, changing the oil in his Ford. Broke my heart, it did. I didn’t think I’d ever get over it. But then I met Curtis Baker and he just swept me right off my feet. Took me to Nashville and proposed at the Grand Ole Opry. I should’ve said no, but I let that smooth talker woo me into it. He got sick with cancer.”

  “I’m sorry, but it seems like you found not one, but two great loves.”

  “I sure did.” A wistful expression came on Nellie Mae’s face. “I sure did.”

  “Then I guess the age difference didn’
t matter so much. I’d rather have that kind of love for however long it can last than never know what it’s like to have it at all.”

  “Well, that’s the truth, isn’t it? Still, I’m thinking you can do better than that man.”

  “And I’m thinking he’s the one for me.”

  “Oh? You’ve already set your mind on having him, have you?”

  “I have. Any suggestions on how to make progress on that?”

  “Well, aside from my pot roast recipe—and that reminds me, it’s right here in my purse.” Nellie Mae picked up the shoulder bag and rummaged around in it. “Ah, here it is.” She handed a lined card to Mica. The recipe was handwritten in tidy letters.

  “Thank you. So, aside from this…”

  “Oh yes. I have a coconut cream pie recipe that will make a man weak in the knees.”

  “Pie? Oh hell. I’m a nightmare when it comes to baking. As in no talent at all.”

  “Tell you what, sugar. After breakfast if you take me over to the store and get all the ingredients, I’ll whip you up one.”

  “You’d do that for me?” Mica was sincerely touched and reached over to take Nellie Mae’s hand. “You’re the kindest woman, Nellie Mae. I’m lucky to have met you.”

  “Oh, you don’t mention it sugar. Friends help friends. And I’m gonna help you land that man.”

  The object of Mica’s affection walked in the door just then and looked straight at her. She smiled and turned her attention back to Nellie Mae. “I sure hope no one finds out about my crush on the Commander. I’d be mortified.”

  “Don’t you worry, honey, it’s just between us.”

  Mica smiled and nodded, then wondered what kind of friend Nellie Mae would turn out to be. The one who couldn’t wait to share a friend’s secret, or the one who’d carry it to the grave. Not that it mattered. She knew when she sat down that the probability was high that as soon as breakfast ended, Nellie Mae would rush to tell her friends everything Mica said.

  What better for them to gossip about than her having a crush on Commander Johns? That was sure to take the focus away from where she’d come from and what she did before she came here.