Tempted by the Soldier

by Patricia Potter

  He stayed with her and showed her how to use the desk computer, as well. Then he introduced her to Google. After a few minutes, she was lost in information.

  She was smiling when they finished.

  “You can come here anytime you want to use a computer,” he said. “Maybe you’ll want one of those, too.”

  “Cody told me you were a nice man,” she said. “That I could trust you. Thank you.” She pulled out a tissue-covered package. “I know you won’t take money, but I hope you will accept this.” He unwrapped it and found a soft wool blue-and-gray scarf.

  “I made it,” she said. “I know it’s too early to use it, but our winters are cold, and I thought...” Her voice was uncertain and trailed off.

  “It’s one of the best presents I’ve ever received,” he said. “Thank you. It’s very handsome.” He wasn’t lying. It was second only to the guitar. Not that he hadn’t received gifts, but not ones handmade like the scarf and not one as meaningful as the guitar. He handed her a file card with his name and number on it. “You call me if you have any problems.”

  “I certainly hope you stay in Covenant Falls, young man,” she said, then clutching her knit bag with her reader in it, she left.

  He looked at the scarf again. It really was very, very nice.

  “One of Mrs. Terrell’s famous scarves,” came a voice from behind him. “You really do rate.”

  He turned at the sound of the voice, and couldn’t stop a grin from spreading across his face.

  “I thought I would check and see if that eye was as bad as it was yesterday,” Stephanie said. “It’s worse.”

  “You have a lot of experience with black eyes?”

  “Enough,” she said. “I saw Cody this morning at Maude’s. He said you were seeing his grandmother this morning.”

  “I like her.”

  “I could tell she likes you. She doesn’t give those scarves to everyone. They’re considered a badge of honor. She sends most of them to a gift store in Denver. You are fast becoming the most talked about man in Covenant Falls.”

  “Probably because I keep getting wounded.”

  “Consensus is they like you. You’ve made a hit with your computer assistance.”

  He shrugged. “Hell, it’s not difficult to help a few people for an hour or so in return for using the cabin. It certainly doesn’t make me a saint.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” she agreed, “but it’s the way you do it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was watching for a few minutes. I ducked out when Mrs. Terrell left. They’re frightened, you know. They are scared of being old and left behind and most of all being a burden on their children. You were very good with her.”

  He didn’t know what to say. He was too astounded. Her blue eyes were softer than he’d ever seen.

  “You weren’t acting,” she added.

  It wasn’t exactly a question. But she seemed to be waiting for an answer.

  “No,” he finally said.

  “You really like helping them.”

  “I didn’t know my grandparents. I like to think they would have been like Mrs. Terrell or Mr. Stiles or Mrs. Aubry, and I hope someone would help them.”

  She tipped her head. “You keep surprising me.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know too many guys who have the patience to work with our older citizens and enjoy doing it.”

  “And you didn’t believe I did it because I wanted to?”

  “Did you?”

  He grinned. “No. I didn’t think I would be any good at it, but I felt I owed Josh and Eve. I didn’t know that many senior citizens, not up close and personal. I surprised myself at how much I enjoy them and how much they want people to respect them for what they do know.”

  She sighed. “I’m not very trusting.”

  “I got that. I also understand why.” He wasn’t going to say anything about the blackout.

  Her gaze held his, then she nodded. “I have to get back. A client canceled an appointment, and I knew you were going to be here. I did want to thank you and, well, apologize.”

  “Why?”

  “I haven’t been exactly welcoming.”

  “I haven’t noticed,” he said, not trying to keep a grin from his face.

  “Anyway, thanks for tackling that PI and being understanding about everything.”

  “Why shouldn’t I be?”

  “Because I was incredibly stupid with Mark. To marry him. To stay with him.”

  “I was married once, too,” he said. “To this day, I don’t understand why except I probably got too drunk one night and maybe I thought I wanted a home to return to. First deployment after the marriage, she bedded a number of other chopper pilots, all of which got back to me. Problem was I really didn’t feel that bad about it. Indignant, yes. My pride was wounded, but my heart wasn’t that unhappy. We divorced when I returned. We both knew it was a mistake. No contest. No alimony. No child. I was lucky. It could just as well have been a personal disaster for both us.”

  She nodded and bit her lip.

  He really wanted to hit the hell out of that slime in Boston. She was still so damned vulnerable for what he’d done. He touched her cheek. “You are one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. Don’t let someone like Mark make you doubt that. You left him. You succeeded. You defeated him by doing that. He’s the loser, not you.”

  The outside door opened and she moved away from him. “I have to get back to the office.”

  “I’m going to Josh’s tonight for dinner. Maybe tomorrow you can come over to the cabin and I’ll cook for you.”

  “You cook?”

  “Omelets. I was famous for them on base.”

  “I like omelets,” she replied.

  “Good. Around six.”

  She nodded and left. Stunned that she had actually accepted, Clint watched her go, her back straight and determined, her stride long and swift. There was the slightest lingering floral scent.

  Grinning like a fool, he sat and waited for his next client.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  STEPHANIE DASHED OUT of the community center with his touch still burning a brand on her cheek and her emotions in turmoil.

  Why had she agreed to have dinner with him Saturday night? Because when she was with him, she lost all reason. She didn’t want to like him as much as she did. She didn’t want him to stir emotions she thought under control. She didn’t want to be vulnerable again.

  But, dammit, her heart thundered when he was near. Her breath came shorter. She experienced a longing so strong she could barely contain it. And she couldn’t stay away.

  Which was why this morning she found herself stopping by the community center. She’d made up an excuse to justify it. She was going to thank him for his actions Wednesday night. In truth, she was appalled at her behavior with Eve yesterday. She had said way too much in protesting any idea that would keep Clint Morgan in town. She was reminded of the Shakespeare quote. Something like “The lady doth protest too much.”

  She knew she’d been transparent with Eve, but Stephanie was terrified of falling in love again. Not just scared. Not just afraid. Terrified. No matter how nice or kind or terrific or good-looking Clint might be, she would be giving up a part of herself again. She wasn’t willing to do that again, not for anyone.

  She’d decided after the divorce she was meant to be single and she was happily so.

  She reached her office just in time for her next appointment: a dog with an ear infection. Once finished, she headed out of town to vaccinate eight horses at a ranch thirty miles away. She liked driving. Nothing soothed her more than the plains framed by the mountains. A visual pleasure.

  She drummed the steering wheel. What was Mark plotting with his p
hone calls and photos? His call had been a warning not to interfere. She knew things about him, about his relationships and methods. She was sure he was hiding money overseas, but he’d kept all his papers at the office. She just didn’t know if another voice—Susan’s—was sufficient to break through the legal wall he had built around himself.

  Maybe Susan knew more than she thought she knew. Maybe she should have urged David and Susan to spend more time delving into Mark’s business affairs. He donated lavishly to political campaigns and other causes, but he didn’t make that much with the bank. True, he was a senior vice president, but still...

  He always said the contributions brought him bank business, but it also bought him prestige and friendships that might be important someday. She hadn’t wanted to step in the mire years ago. All she wanted was out, but maybe it was time...

  She would call Susan’s attorney later tonight.

  Maybe she could get some satisfaction that she hadn’t had after the divorce. Lack of closure had hobbled her life. She had always been protective of herself, the residue of an abusive childhood. She’d always heard that abused daughters often married abusive husbands. She often questioned if somewhere deep inside, she believed she didn’t deserve more, and whether that was the reason she had let Mark’s abuse go on for as long as she did.

  It was also why she was distrustful of all men. It wasn’t the men she feared as much as herself. That she unconsciously picked bad guys because that was who she deserved, that was what her father had always told her.

  And now there was Clint who, on the surface, seemed to be one of the world’s good guys, and she was running away because she didn’t believe in good guys. At least not for her.

  She arrived at the ranch and greeted the owner. He had just purchased the new horses.

  “Hey, Steph,” he said. “I have some beauts.”

  She grabbed the bag from the van and grinned. She loved horses, and keeping them healthy was her favorite part of her job.

  Maybe she would ride Shadow this afternoon and clear her head.

  Sounded like the best idea all week.

  * * *

  THE REST OF the day went rapidly for Clint. After his last appointment, or lesson, he headed back home. To the cabin. He had to keep reminding himself it wasn’t his home, although it was beginning to feel like it.

  He was going to Josh’s tonight. He worried about taking too much of his host’s time, but spaghetti sounded mighty good and he would see Bart.

  He hoped the pit bull was happy to be back in his home. Clint showered and pulled on the polo shirt he’d washed in the sink. He seriously needed new clothes. The general store carried a limited amount of items: jeans, work shirts, T-shirts and some pullovers. There was also some Western-style shirts and pants, but he hadn’t gone the cowboy route yet. Basically, the selection was limited. Maybe he would go online and see what he could find.

  He sat down and turned on his laptop. In thirty minutes, he’d ordered three casual long-sleeve shirts, a sweater and a pair of slacks along with more jeans since that was what most of the people in town wore. When he checked out, he realized he was buying clothes for Covenant Falls.

  He reminded himself he was here temporarily, and yet, he had quickly fallen into the fabric of the town. He had debated whether he wanted to live near an army base, but that, he realized, would be too painful. Getting his degree had been an option, the most sensible course, but he kept putting off doing anything about it. Admit it, he told himself. Leaving Covenant Falls, and Stephanie, was more than depressing. He liked the weather. He liked the view. He liked the people. He liked the relaxed mood. But how could he make a living here? He saw no raging need for a chopper pilot with blackouts.

  He looked at his watch. Josh would arrive soon.

  He grabbed his guitar and went out on the porch to wait. He played with chords, then a melody emerged. Intrigued, he developed it to see where it went. He was lost in the music when a knock on the screen door startled him. He hadn’t noticed Josh’s approach.

  “I like that,” Josh said when Clint gestured for him to come inside. “What is it?”

  “Just something I’m playing with.”

  Josh looked surprised. “You composed it? It’s damn good. You didn’t tell us you played.”

  “I play at it. It’s relaxing.”

  “Thought about doing it professionally?”

  “I’m nowhere near that good. You haven’t heard my voice.” He stood and placed the guitar inside, then locked the door. He followed Josh out to the Jeep. Amos sat proudly in the backseat.

  “You didn’t have the guitar when you first came here,” Josh said as they stepped into the Jeep. “I remember you had damned little.”

  “Some guys at the base sent it to me. Mine was destroyed in the car crash.”

  “You miss driving, don’t you?”

  “Every day. I don’t let myself think about it. I learned a long time ago that what is done is done, and you’ll drive yourself crazy with what-ifs.”

  “Smart man. It took me a lot longer to figure it out.”

  “How is it for you?” Clint asked. “Small town. Family. Herd of dogs. You were a lifer like me.”

  “After I recovered from a severe case of cultural shock, fine. As I said the other night, sometimes I have to go up in the mountains. You might like to go fishing with me up there. Terrific trout streams, and a quiet and peace that puts everything in perspective.”

  “Are all small towns like Covenant Falls?”

  “In what way?”

  “Everyone knows everyone’s business. Friendly. Accepting. The police department’s actually helpful.”

  Josh chuckled. “Evidently, you know some that are not.”

  Clint grinned. “A few.”

  “Back to your question, I don’t know. I was never around small towns before. But I do know that what’s happening here now is due in much part to Eve and Stephanie. They spearheaded raising funds for the community center, and it’s really brought the town together. Lots of activities, learning experiences. Damn, I sound just like my wife.”

  Clint didn’t have time to answer as they reached the Mannings’ ranch house. He heard the barking inside. Nick barreled out followed by the strange assortment of dogs. Déjà vu. Bart was last until he saw Clint step out of the Jeep, then his stub of a tail wagged madly. He raced toward Clint and put his front paws on his legs, trying to reach his face.

  Clint bent down and he knew he must have a ridiculous grin on his face. He’d never before been greeted with such undiluted joy. His arms circled the dog and he rubbed his hands in Bart’s fur as the animal frantically licked his face.

  “He’s Clint’s dog, all right,” Josh said from the side.

  Clint straightened. Bart wasn’t his dog. He was Nick’s, and maybe this greeting wasn’t the best thing.

  “Nick has something to tell you,” Eve said.

  Clint looked at Nick who had a sad expression on his face. Sad but determined.

  “Braveheart...Bart...wants to be your dog,” he said. “He’s barely eaten since he came back and he doesn’t take his eyes from the window. He’s been waiting for you to come and get him.”

  “But he’s yours.”

  “No, and it’s okay.” Nick swallowed. “Stephanie has another dog for me, one that needs us. Bart needs you.”

  Clint didn’t know what to say. It was too sudden. What would he do with a dog? But Bart stretched up and delivered a big wet, sloppy kiss, and Clint knew he would do whatever it took to keep him. “Thank you,” he said. “I received a present today, a really nice scarf from a really nice lady. I thought it was one of the best presents ever because she made it, but nothing can top the one you just gave me.” He reached out his hand, and Nick took it, giving him a strong handshake.

  “I
think it’s time to go inside,” Eve said, and Clint spotted tears hovering in her eyes. “Dinner is ready.”

  “Mom makes great spaghetti,” Nick said, his glance going back to Bart. “I can come and see him?”

  “You betcha. Any time you want. I think he’s going to miss you.”

  Nick smiled. “Josh says some dogs are like that. They pick their person. Amos is Josh’s dog. And he says Amos was his friend’s dog before that. He really grieved when his first person died. Others like Fancy and Miss Marple and Captain Hook, they’re happy with everyone who feeds them and loves them.”

  “You are going to have to tell me more about canine likes and dislikes,” Clint said gently. “You’ll have to tell me all about Bart and what he likes and doesn’t like. Will you do that?”

  “Yes. I would like to.”

  Eve ushered them inside and she introduced him to a large, older man who sat in the living room with a beer in his hand. “This is Tom McGuire. He was the police chief here for nine years. Before that, he was with the state police and sheriff’s department over in Pueblo. He was my father’s best friend and he’s like an uncle to Nick.”

  Eve headed to the kitchen and the man stood and shook Clint’s hand. It was a hardy shake. “Heard a lot about you. Okay if I call you Clint?”

  “Everyone does,” he said. “Good to meet you, sir.”

  “Heard you did a damn good job in taking down that suspect the other night.”

  Clint touched his face. “It was close. If your patrolman hadn’t been alert...”

  “According to him, you were hanging on for dear life. Not about ready to let him go.”

  “I didn’t like his attitude.”

  McGuire laughed. “My guys didn’t, either. He’s not having a happy time in jail. The food sorta depends on attitude. Maude’s if you behave yourself, and beans and tasteless oatmeal if you don’t.”

  Clint laughed. “I’ll have to remember that if I ever inhabit it.”

  “You don’t look like a fella that would.”

  “I’ve had my moments.”

  Eve poked her head into the living room and announced supper was ready. They followed her into the dining room. A bottle of red wine and a big salad sat on the table. In another minute, Eve served a steaming plate of spaghetti and a bowl of red sauce with meatballs. The spicy aroma filled the air.