by Tessa Layne
A chat with one of her sisters would be the perfect remedy to her mood. She buzzed Carolina first. Carrie deserved an explanation for her crazy behavior the other week. Smiling at the memory, she waited as the phone rang. By the second ring, she knew her sister wouldn’t be picking up.
“Hey sis, it’s Cass,” she spoke brightly when the voicemail beeped. “Had a spare minute and wanted to catch up.” A smile spread across her face. “I promise there are no boys around. Give a call soon! Love you.”
She hung up, mildly disappointed Carrie hadn’t answered.
Scrolling through her contacts, her finger hovered over Lexi’s name. But after glancing at the clock over the stove, she opted for a quick text. Lexi would be in court.
Lydia would be around though. If she wasn’t at her sewing machine surrounded by samples of leather and lace. Lydia could share the latest drama and intrigue in the shoe world. She glanced down at her worn boots. Lydia was routinely horrified by her choice of footwear, kept rattling on about shoes being sexy and functional. Cassie snorted at the memory of her last conversation with her sister. There was no way to make a combat boot sexy. She punched the button.
“Sis?” Lydia’s voice sounded breathless.
“It’s me. Where are you?”
“Not where you think I am,” she bubbled. “I’m in Paris.”
Cassie held the phone back from her ear. “No kidding?”
“Christian brought me with him to show my concepts to Chanel for a collaboration we’re working on.”
Pride swelled through Cassie. “Wow, from Prairie to Paris. Does Mom know yet?”
“No, it was spur of the moment, we just landed this morning, and have been running all day. Thank goodness my shoes can handle that,” she teased.
“I bet they look better than mine too.”
“Of course they do. Here,” she paused. “I just sent you a picture.”
A few seconds later, a picture of a purple clad foot with a swirly heel and gold flowers curving up over the ankle, popped up on Cassie’s screen. “Ooh la la, sis. You’ve outdone yourself.”
While she might have a weakness for lingerie, Cassie had little interest in typical girly things, especially impractical shoes. But it thrilled her to hear her sister so excited and… happy. A pang hooked deep inside her chest. She’d felt that excited once upon a time. When she’d first crawled inside the cockpit of a UH-60. The day she’d received her wings. Hell, even the first day she’d landed in Kandahar, so excited to finally be serving her country in combat. A part of something bigger than herself.
And now? Now she was happy if she got through a day without losing her shit. Or a night without violent dreams where she woke screaming or thrashing. What the hell had happened to her? Her hopes and dreams had collapsed with the force of a black hole. Reduced to a tiny fraction of what they’d been only a few years prior. A pinprick of light, barely visible, but enough to hang on.
“How’s home?” Lydia’s voice reached through her sudden funk.
“Let’s just say I never imagined coming home to my old room at the ripe old age of twenty-nine.”
Lydia’s voice filled with concern. “How’s Mama?”
“You know how she is. Soldiering on and keeping everyone’s spirits high.” Her mother’s relentlessly positive attitude was nothing short of an inspiration. Yeah, she might be overbearing and way too far in her business, but nobody doubted Dottie’s love for every single person in town.
Again, the pang hooked deep in her chest, tugging harder this time. Cassie’s hand started to tremble. “Hey. I don’t wanna keep you. Good luck with everything. Keep me posted, ’kay?”
“Sure thing, Sissy. Love you.” Lydia ended the call before Cassie could answer.
The empty house pressed in on her as her thoughts started to race. If she stayed here another second, she’d crawl the walls. Removing the ice-pack, she stood and braced herself through a few deep knee bends, gingerly feeling on either side of her knee. It was swollen, but nothing felt out of place. Just tender. More ice and aspirin and she’d be good as new before her next drill weekend.
*
Cassie woke with a start, covered in sweat and breathing sharply. The moonlight spilled through the open window, casting her room in an eerie glow. She clutched at the light blanket covering her, focusing on its rough feel in her palms, willing her breath to slow.
They were never the same, but they were all vividly violent, and abjectly terrifying. Had she screamed? She lay still, waiting for footfalls outside her door. After an interminable minute, she relaxed her grip on the sheets. Night sounds of crickets and frogs filtered through the open window. The house was as peaceful as always.
Too bad her brain wasn’t.
She swung her feet over the edge and reached for her robe. A glass of milk would help. She padded down the hall, then gingerly down the stairs, taking care to skip the third stair from the bottom – the one with the squeaky floorboard that made it impossible to sneak into or out of the house. Rounding the corner into the kitchen, Cassie stopped short.
Her mother sat at the kitchen table, hands warming around a mug of something, bathed in the soft glow of a single votive candle.
“Mama?”
Dottie flashed her a sad smile and lifted the mug. “Peppermint and chamomile. Water’s on the stove.”
Cassie rooted in the cupboard for her favorite mug. After pouring hot water over the two tea bags, she pulled out a chair across from her mother.
“Can’t sleep.”
“Another nightmare?” Her mother pinned her with a steely look over her mug.
Cassie shifted uncomfortably. She was a grown woman, and yet her mother could reduce her to a little girl with just a look. Every. Single. Time. “I’m fine.”
“I saw you were out in the playhouse today.”
Oh man. Nothing got past her mom. It never ceased to amaze her how her mother knew about anything her children did or felt. Had Dottie seen the bike? This felt like the interrogations she’d endured as a teenager when her mother basically led the witness to confess. She was a master. No wonder her sister Lexi did so well in the courtroom. They’d learned from a pro.
But Cassie was older now. She’d made it through SERE training, and cut her teeth on the politics of the military. Her mother wouldn’t extract a confession from her so easily this time. “Thought I’d clean it up.”
“Your dad and I were talking after dinner. If you’d like, he’ll install a fan or a window AC unit. You could move out there if you like. Have more privacy.” Her gaze drifted to her mug. “I know it’s got to be hard for you being at home after living so long on your own.”
She was used to no privacy in the military, but appreciated her mom’s effort. She’d have to sneak out and cover up her bike though. Her parents would freak if they saw the damage. “I- I’d like that.”
Her mother raised an eyebrow. Uh-oh. She was moving in for the kill. “I had a conversation with Travis at the food truck today.”
Boom.
Cassie went cold, then hot. He wouldn’t have ratted her out to her mom, would he? Judging from the murderous expression on his face the day before, maybe he had. She scrambled for an explanation, and in the end decided to play it cool. “Oh?”
Her mother narrowed her eyes, mouth tightening. Cassie’s stomach made a sickening flip. That was the I know what you did, and it’s gonna be ten times worse if you deny it face. That was the face, that when she was a kid, got her grounded for a week. With extra chores. “Don’t you think it’s time to come clean?”
Oh, God. Had her mother seen her bike in pieces? Cassie focused on the rim of her mug, heat licking at her neck.
“I know what’s going on, Cass. Travis told me to tell you not to be late tomorrow.”
Goddammit. He had gone and ratted her out to her mom. She seethed. They’d had a deal. That you broke, her conscience supplied.
Dottie reached across the table, palm open. She automatically slipped her hand int
o her mom’s. For a moment they sat quietly, hands linked. Then Dottie spoke. “We don’t much talk about your father’s military service. It’s his choice whether he wants to open up. But I’ll tell you this much. He had a hard time at first. You were small, and it was tough coming home to a family.”
She could relate.
“Have you talked to anyone at the VA?”
“Mom, I don’t want to sit in a circle with a bunch of Vietnam Vets and sing Kumbaya.”
“Have you talked to anyone else?”
A bitter laugh ripped from her throat. “Ha. So they can put that on my record? Or ground me because they’ve doped me up on God knows what? I am an aviator, and you know all the crap they give people to sleep is grounding. I love flying more than anything.” She shook her head vehemently. “No thank you.”
Dottie squeezed her hand, her face a mixture of sadness and worry. God, she hated that look. It was even worse coming from her mother. “I want my daughter back.”
Dottie’s words knifed straight to her soul. She was supposed to be home helping her mom, not the other way around. “I’m sorry, Mama. I’ll be fine.” She pushed back from the table. “I’ve gotta take a walk.”
She shoved her bare feet into her work boots by the back door and stumbled out into the darkness.
CHAPTER 18
The smell of hay and horse sunk into Cassie’s bones as she stepped into the barn. She breathed deeply letting the scent permeate her pores. There was something about being alone with the animals that calmed her. She felt her way through the dark, counting the stalls until she came to the second from the end.
“Hey, Winny,” she called out quietly.
The horse nickered back and snuffed, sticking her head over the gate, obviously looking for a treat. Cassie opened the latch and slipped in next to her big baby and buried her face in Winny’s mane. Winny had been a thirteenth birthday gift from her parents, although the horse had to be close to twenty now. Cassie had only ridden her a few times since coming home, mostly out of concern for the horse, but Winny still enjoyed getting out.
“C’mon, girl. Let’s go for a walk.” Giving the horse a pat on the neck, she tugged on the mane and led her out to the aisle. Cassie left the halter on its hook outside the stall. Tonight, it just needed to be the two of them. Once outside, she heaved herself on the back of the horse, and grabbing a fistful of mane, nudged Winny forward, giving her the lead.
Winny walked out of the barnyard and turned for the pasture where their other horses usually grazed.
The night was quiet, only punctuated by the occasional call of a Barred owl. The wind whispered gently, rustling through the tall grass as they headed up a low rise, then down to a copse of trees on the banks of Liberty Creek. Like many of the rivers in the area, Liberty Creek was the dividing line between two properties, in this case, the Graces and Kincaids. Winny paused to take a drink, and Cassie nudged her along. Being all alone in the trees this way spooked her. She knew it was irrational, but she couldn’t help it.
As soon as they cleared the trees, Cassie’s heartbeat slowed. They followed the fence line between the two properties, and when they reached the top of the next rise, Cassie tugged on the horse’s mane and brought her to a stop. She slid off the horse, and buried her face in Winny’s neck, letting the soft coat tickle her cheek. Shutting her eyes, she stood there quietly, basking in the horse’s calm presence. Horses could size you up in a heartbeat. They knew who you were on the inside. Broken pieces and all.
Cassie rubbed her cheek against Winny, stroking the horse absently. Maybe spending more time with horses was a good idea. It couldn’t hurt. She turned and looked out across the landscape. The three-quarter moon hung like a beacon in the sky, blotting out all but the brightest stars, and casting a silvery light on the hills for miles in any direction.
“It’s the same moon over Kandahar,” Travis’s voice called out behind her. “But the stars are brighter there.”
Cassie yelped, nearly jumping out of her skin, heart slamming into her ribs. “Jesus, Travis, you scared the shit out of me.” Winny nickered her agreement and flicked her ears. “You scared Winny too. How in the hell do you do that?”
“Walk silently? How do you think?” The hard edge had returned to his voice.
She peered at him, head cocked. He was dressed much like her, feet jammed into work boots, pushing up the bottom of his pajamas. His shirt was unbuttoned, as if he’d hastily thrown it on as he’d left his house. “You okay?”
He smiled sardonically. “I think I’m supposed to be asking you that.”
“Turn about’s fair play.”
“Let’s just say it’s nothing that a moonlit walk won’t cure.”
“Why’d you rat me out to my mom?”
Travis cocked his head. “Who says I ratted?”
“Mom said she’d talked to you. Said you’d told her to tell me not to be late tomorrow.”
Travis’s dry laugh carried across the fence. “Your ma’s no dummy. But I didn’t rat you out.” His teeth shone white in the darkness. “I might have applied a little tactical pressure though.”
“Hmph.”
His voice turned steely. “You blew me off today.”
“About that…” A cow lowed in the distance. If she were smart, she’d throw herself at his mercy.
Travis placed his hands on his hips and studied the stars. “I’m waiting,” he muttered after a long silence.
“I had a nightmare after I fell asleep while on call the other night. I thought Parker was a Taliban fighter when he tried to wake me up.” It came out so quietly that she wasn’t even sure she’d spoken. Only Travis’s quick intake of breath told her she had.
“That sucks.”
“Yeah.” She leaned her forehead into Winny, stroking the mare’s shoulder. “Surprised Parker, too. He landed on the floor. Woke up the whole unit.” An embarrassed chuckle leaked from her throat.
“You know, he may not have said it, but it doesn’t take an idiot to see that Parker’s crazy about you.”
Parker.
Her body warmed at the thought of him. Big, strong, capable Parker. The one who rescued everyone. Except her. Even she was too much for Parker.
“I don’t see why. I’m a fucked-up hot mess who can’t make it through the day without freaking out.” Despair fanned at the edges of her conscious, threatening at any second to become an inferno. She clutched Winny’s mane hoping to steady the shaking in her hands.
“You don’t have to be,” Travis practically shouted. “You get to decide if your combat experiences are just a part of your story, or if they’re your only story.” After a long while, he spoke softly. “No one ever goes on a mission solo. You’re part of a team, Cassie. And a smart warrior knows when to ask for help.”
She fought the tide of emotion that rose through her body. “You know as well as I do, they’ll think I can’t hack it anymore, or they’ll try and medicate me.” Panic began to spin up her through her belly. “I don’t know who I am when I’m not in the thick of it.”
Her confession hung between them like a great neon sign.
Travis, pulled his gaze from the sky, leveling the full force of it on her. “So when you come home, you get a job as a firefighter and take unnecessary risks on the back of your bike. And you keep searching for that adrenaline high because that’s what you know.”
God, when he laid it out like that, she sounded pathetic. Like an addict. It reminded her of the warnings they received in the reintegration briefs each time she’d returned from Afghanistan. She was above that, wasn’t she? That happened to those who were weak.
“But I love what I do.”
He nodded. “I know, I know.” He fisted his hands at his hips and looked up at the sky again. “Look at me. I’m no better. I went from killing machine to community protector.”
“At least you keep people safe.”
“Do I?” he asked harshly and shook his head. “Ask Parker’s uncle Warren how well I did that
, or the others that died in the tornado.”
She got it. Every day, she went over the details in her mind that led to losing Murphy. Turning it over like a Rubik’s Cube, looking for some clue as to how she could have done things differently. And how had she responded to Travis’s outstretched hand and offer of help? With a slap in the face.
Unease prickled up Cassie’s neck. Her behavior today had been shameful. Not worthy of her rank or her profession, for sure. She scraped a hand over her face, nodding. “I was a coward today for blowing you off. I’m sorry. I’ll be there this afternoon.”
He grinned at her, teeth glowing in the moonlight. “Admission is the first step to recovery. And this time, I’ll bring you myself.”
“Screw you, Travis.”
“I think the correct answer is hooya.”
“That’s hooah, navy boy.”
CHAPTER 19
Parker paced impatiently in front of the new pens. He hadn’t seen Cassie since she’d stormed out of the fire station, and she’d gone radio silent.
“You tryin’ to shine rocks with your boots?” Gunnar asked with a laugh. “She’ll be here. Travis called to say he was picking her up.”
A flash of jealousy snaked through Parker. He should be picking her up. He was her boyfriend. But Travis lives next door, the voice of reason spoke in his head.
Parker grumbled. He didn’t care what kind of walls Cassie threw up, he was determined to show her he could be there for her through anything. Even nightmares where she mistook him for the enemy.
Hope sauntered up, sipping a mug of coffee, a knowing look in her eye. “Don’t worry, Park, she’ll show today. But do me a favor? Let me call the shots?” She swung her gaze over to Gunnar, who stood leaning against the fencing. “That goes for you too, hotshot. Today isn’t the time to go all Alpha cowboy, understand? It’s bad for the horses. And the humans.”
“Fine, sis,” Gunnar answered. “You got it.”
