by Susan Stoker
Bryn stayed silent as Dane left the room as quietly as he’d entered. Her mind was racing, trying to understand what in the world had just happened. She hadn’t heard from Dane in over a week, and she’d convinced herself that he wanted nothing to do with her…again. Then in the space of—she looked down at her watch—fifteen minutes, he’d not only promised to help her find out more information about bunkers, but he’d invited her to shop with him and eat another meal…at his house.
It was surreal, but the warm feeling in her chest felt good. Bryn shut the book in front of her and stood. As much as she wanted to sit and bask in the happiness she was feeling, she had to get back to work.
As she stocked books the rest of the afternoon, questions she wanted to ask Dane raced through her head. There was so much she’d like to know about him, his missing hand, his time in the military, why he’d picked Rathdrum to live, if he had a family, what he did for a living and, most importantly, what had changed his mind about her.
Smiling as she left work at five, Bryn knew the next two hours would drag by. She couldn’t wait to spend time with Dane. She had no idea why he was spending time with her, but she was going to try to enjoy it while it lasted.
And she knew it wouldn’t last. It never did. Anytime a man seemed interested, it was inevitable that he’d get frustrated with her. She wasn’t like most people, but for tonight, at least, Bryn wanted to pretend that she was.
Chapter Nine
Bryn pulled into the grocery store parking lot at exactly seven that night. She’d spent most of the time between when she got home a little after five and before she left trying to decide what to wear. She didn’t have a huge wardrobe to choose from, and finally settled on a pair of black jeans and a white blouse she hadn’t worn in ages. It was a silky camisole covered by a wispy overlay of lace flowers. It wasn’t something she wore often, but she wanted to look more feminine for the first time in a long while.
She didn’t own a pair of heels, and resigned herself to wearing her usual sneakers, but hoped the effort she put into choosing her shirt would counteract the lame shoes.
Pulling into the space next to Dane’s green pickup, she realized he’d obviously seen her car enter the lot and was standing in front of his truck waiting for her. She got out and pocketed her keys, suddenly shy.
“Hi.”
“Hi. You look nice.”
“My shoes don’t match my outfit.” Bryn wanted to smack herself in the forehead for bringing attention to her footwear, but since she’d already been thinking about how they didn’t go with her shirt, it was inevitable that it popped out.
“They’re fine. Smalls, you live in Idaho, not New York City. I’d be shocked if you were wearing heels. But you probably do need to get a pair of sturdy boots. They’re good for rain, snow, mud, or just for looking badass.”
Bryn laughed. “I don’t think I could look badass if I tried.”
Dane stepped closer and picked up her hand and started walking toward the front door of the building. “That’s what you’ve got me for.”
Bryn almost tripped over her feet. It was only the strong grip Dane had on her hand that kept her from falling flat on her face. Had him? What was he talking about? Before she could ask, they approached the door—and she gasped.
To the side of the automatic sliding doors was a man sitting on the ground. He had a small, scruffy dog with him and a cardboard sign that said: Homeless Veteran. Spare some change?
Bryn couldn’t take her eyes off the man. He had a long beard and was wearing a red beanie pulled low on his forehead. It was obvious he had on several layers of clothes, all of which looked dirty and ripped. His legs were crossed and he kept hold of a short leash with one hand and held the sign with the other. He looked up at them hopefully as they neared.
“Spare some change? I’m hungry, but I’m trying to feed Muppet here before I eat anything. He hasn’t eaten in two days.”
Bryn’s hand immediately went to her pocket. She always threw a handful of coins into her pockets before she left the house. It was a habit left over from when she was young and her mother had told her to always carry change for a pay phone, “just in case.” She had no idea what that meant, but it was a habit she’d started and hadn’t ever been able to break.
She pulled it all out and let go of Dane’s hand to walk over to the man and his dog. She leaned over and dropped it into the cup in front of the man. “I’m sorry it’s not more this time.” Bryn petted the extremely friendly dog, who tried to jump on her as she got close. She immediately backed away from him, closer to Dane. She felt him grab hold of her hand again as they went toward the entrance.
Finally, when they were inside, she looked up at him. “I can’t stand to see our veterans treated so badly. And his poor dog.” Bryn shook her head sadly. “I’m such a sucker for homeless people. I feel guilty that I have a safe, warm place to sleep and they don’t.”
Dane stopped in front of the carts and turned to face her. “Smalls, Oliver isn’t homeless.”
She looked up at him in shock. “Yes, he is,” she protested. “Why else would he be sitting out there with his poor dog, begging for a few coins?”
Dane smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He brought his hand up and brushed her hair behind her ear as he’d done earlier that day in the library. “How many times have you given him money?”
“Every time I’ve seen him. I feel so bad. He put his life on the line for our country and now doesn’t have anywhere to live. It’s a disgrace, and it’s up to people like us, who he spent part of his life protecting, to help him out now.”
Dane put his hands on her shoulders and leaned close to her. “I agree with you that homeless veterans are a societal problem that the government is still working on, but Smalls, I’m telling you straight up, that man is neither a veteran nor homeless.”
Bryn looked up at Dane in shock, wondering if she’d been completely wrong about the kind of person he was. “Yes, he is,” she repeated forcefully. “I saw him yesterday outside the library, and earlier this week he was at the gas station. He has that camo jacket with all those patches on it that show his unit.”
“He lives a block from here. I saw him at Smokey’s Bar the other week, before I got drunk. He was talking with the waitress and they were making plans to get together later…at his place. Apparently he was using the money he’d panhandled to buy booze. He was already mostly shit-faced, and was bragging to the waitress about how much he makes by impersonating a veteran and how, since he’d adopted the dog, he was getting twice as much.”
Bryn could only stare at Dane in horror. “He’s lying?”
Dane’s lips quirked, but he didn’t smile. “Yeah, Smalls. He’s lying.”
“His name is Oliver?”
“Yeah. I heard him introduce himself to the waitress. Does it matter?”
“No, I guess not. But the name ‘Oliver’ doesn’t exactly scream con artist.”
Dane didn’t say a word, just stared at her with a compassionate look on his face and his eyebrows raised.
Bryn didn’t think, she simply leaned forward and put her head on Dane’s chest, letting her arms dangle at her sides. “I’m an idiot.”
“No, you’re not,” Dane reassured her, running his hand from her head to the middle of her back then up again. His other arm went around her waist to pull her closer.
Bryn brought her hands up and rested them hesitantly on his waist and looked up at him. “I literally can’t walk by any homeless people without giving them some money. I feel so awful that they don’t have a safe or warm place to sleep that I feel obligated to do what I can for them. I’m fortunate in so many ways, and it hurts to think about what they might be going through. When I lived in Seattle, I had to start taking the bus to my job because there were so many lined up on the route I normally walked to work.”
“It’s not a bad thing that you’re tenderhearted.”
“They aren’t all lying, are they?”
“
No, Smalls. You just have to learn better ways to help them out, other than giving them your money.”
“How?”
“How about we talk about it later. Can we get this shopping thing done first?”
At that, Bryn straightened up and took a step away from Dane. “Of course. Sorry! Yes, come on. You don’t like it here, so we have to get what we need and get out of here.”
“Hang on a sec, Bryn.”
She shivered at her name on his lips. He usually called her Smalls, which she loved, but there was something about her name said in his deep, sexy voice that made her want to do whatever it was he asked of her. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For your support of veterans. For caring about them…us. It means a lot.”
She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Dane without thought. Her head barely reached his chin, but she held on tightly for just a moment, then pulled back. “You’re welcome. Now come on. What are you making me for dinner?”
* * *
The trip through the store was relatively quick and Dane was thankful for Bryn’s presence as they made their way up and down the aisles. He probably could’ve handled it without her, but watching her do her best to make him feel at ease was one hell of a distraction.
She positioned herself on his left side and wrapped her arm around his. He hadn’t worn his prosthetic, deciding that Bryn had seen his stump more than once anyway, and hopefully they’d be back at his house before too long. She didn’t seem to care at all that he hadn’t worn it either.
As they went through the store, she kept up a steady stream of conversation, keeping his mind on what she was saying rather than who else was in the aisles with them. Bryn couldn’t reach the groceries on the upper shelves, and grumped and bitched about the layout of the items. Even though she’d only worked there for a short time, she’d obviously taken pride in making sure the layout was “shopper friendly,” and the changes that had been made after she left weren’t sitting well with her.
She chose the checkout line with the most people, telling him that since there were more people in line, it would mean there would be fewer behind them. When someone did get in their line, Bryn hadn’t said anything, just shifted until she was facing his side and could keep her eye on them.
Shopping with her was an amazing experience. From watching her mumble about the number of carbohydrates that were in the dish he was buying the supplies to make for her, to seeing her run interference with other shoppers for him, to the satisfaction deep down that she was doing everything she could to make him more comfortable in the crowded store…it all added up to a sensation of contentment and satisfaction that Dane hadn’t ever felt before.
The kicker was that he somehow knew if he pointed it out to her, she’d deflect, saying it wasn’t a big deal, or that she was doing it to make her own life easier. Not once had she even mentioned his missing hand or acted like it in any way repulsed her. He had no idea how he’d managed to get so lucky, but Dane had a sudden epiphany that he needed to do whatever it took to make sure Bryn didn’t slip through his fingers.
“Thank you.”
She looked up at him as they walked back through the parking lot with the groceries. “For what?”
“For not treating me differently. For having my back. For agreeing to come over for dinner. For all of it.”
She looked confused, but nodded anyway.
Dane clicked the locks on his truck and they put the bags on the floor of the backseat. He shut the door and turned to Bryn once more. “Ride with me?”
She bit her lip and looked away from him.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Dane asked.
“It’s not that I don’t want to, but it’s not logical. My apartment is that way,” she pointed back into town, “and your house is that way,” she pointed the other direction, “so you driving me now means that when we’re done eating, you’ll have to bring me back here so I can get my car and go home. It makes more sense for me to take my car to your place so when we’re done, only one of us needs to make the trip back into town.”
Dane smiled. He’d never get tired of how her brain worked. “Smalls, it’s not that far. Besides, if you drove your car, I’d follow you back into town anyway, so you’d be saving gas if you let me drive us both now.”
“Why would you do that? Now that really isn’t logical.”
Dane leaned into her and slid his hand behind the nape of her neck and said, “Because I wouldn’t be much of a man if I let you drive home in the dark in that piece of crap and didn’t make sure you got home safely. It’s my responsibility to make sure nothing happens to you.”
She looked confused. “I’m not your responsibility, Dane. I’m an adult. As you said, it’s not that far from your place to town, and I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time now. I don’t understand.”
He licked his lips and leaned into her before answering. “I like you, Bryn Hartwell. I’d like the opportunity to talk to you for several hours tonight. It’s going to be late when you leave. I’m not comfortable sending you off into the dark night by yourself. You could get a flat tire, or your transmission could die. A serial killer could be waiting for a lone woman driving on the back roads of Idaho to kidnap and bring to his lair deep in the mountains.” When she opened her mouth to speak, he quickly continued, not giving her the chance.
“I know, it’s illogical and the odds are extremely low of it occurring. But I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you when you were leaving my house.” He shrugged. “Call it a weird Dane quirk. Or a result of being a soldier. I don’t care. But it is what it is. Now…do you want to ride with me or drive your car to my place?”
“If I promised to call when I got home, would you let me drive and not follow me home?”
Dane shook his head, but stayed silent.
She sighed hugely and pursed her lips, mumbling, “I don’t understand you.” Then she raised her voice, and her eyes went back to his. “I’ll go with you.”
Dane leaned forward and brushed his lips over her forehead. “Thank you, Smalls.”
Neither of them said another word as he helped her into the passenger side of his truck then walked around the front to the driver’s side. They stayed silent as he drove down the winding roads to his house. It was a comfortable silence, however, and Dane smiled to himself. He loved how comfortable he felt with Bryn and couldn’t wait to learn more about her. Tonight would change their relationship from almost strangers to hopefully something more.
Dane knew he had to go slowly with Bryn. In some ways, she was like an untried virgin, and in others she was an old soul. It was a fascinating contradiction and he was excited to learn what made her tick and what her hopes and dreams were.
For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t worrying about his missing hand and what a woman might think about it…he was wholly focused on learning as much as he could about Bryn, and when he could convince her to see him again.
Chapter Ten
“There was a Roman general who lost his hand in one of the Punic Wars and had a new one made out of iron. He did it so he could hold his shield and returned to battle to continue fighting. About fifteen years ago, researchers in Cairo unearthed what they think is the oldest documented prosthetic. It’s a toe made out of leather and wood. And believe it or not, it was found on the three-thousand-year-old foot of a mummy believed to have been a noblewoman.”
“Really?” Dane murmured the word, knowing Bryn was too lost in her recollections of ancient prosthetics to really hear him.
“Yeah. It’s amazing how little prosthetic limbs have advanced over the years. I mean, doctors are still using leather to hold them to people’s bodies. And in the Dark Ages, two thousand years after the age of that Egyptian woman with the missing toe and the Roman general, the knights were using metal limbs made by the same people who made their armor and weapons.
“Oh, then the pirates came along. Everyone knows about their hooks and peg legs. The first major break in the design of functional arms and legs wasn’t until the sixteenth century. A French doctor…shoot, I can’t remember his name, I’ll get back to you on that, anyway, he was the first person to make a hinged mechanized hand.
“Did you know that the National Academy of Sciences established the Artificial Limb Program in 1945 because of how many veterans there were who came home from World War Two with a missing limb? Their purpose was to try to make advances in what they’re made of, how they work, and surgical techniques to make it easier for the person to use a prosthetic when the limb was removed.”
They were sitting on the couch after eating the chicken parmesan Dane had made for dinner. They’d been talking as if they’d known each other for years rather than only a week or so. Dane had thought for a moment that Bryn would be reluctant to open up to him, to talk about herself, but he’d been completely wrong.
It was as if she had no concept of what might be the socially right or wrong thing to say on what was basically a first date. They’d talked about all the normal things two people getting to know each other would discuss, things like family, jobs, and when and why they’d moved to Idaho, but the conversation had eventually taken an odd turn…but Dane didn’t mind.
He’d known she was fascinated by his stump and prosthetic, but hadn’t known exactly how much. When, at her request, he’d shown her the prosthetic he was currently using, she’d gone off on her most recent soliloquy.
“Does your arm still hurt? Do you feel phantom pains? I think that would be weird, to have your hand hurt and look down and realize that it’s not even there. I mean, how does that work, anyway? And you said that your friend had your brachial artery clamped in his fingers and that’s how you didn’t bleed out? How could he walk and do that? Did it hurt? Duh, of course it did. Your prosthetic is pretty good, even though it’s essentially just a step up from a pirate hook, but I bet you could get on a list to get a bionic one with all the bells and whistles, so to speak. Those companies are suckers for a good veteran story…and you’re good looking to boot, so they’d love to show you off, I’m sure.”
