by Lyz Kelley
During the past twenty-four hours, he’d grown unbearably restless. Ashley told him he reminded her of a Bullmastiff because his face had become permanently wrinkled and grumpy, and he’d begun to growl at people.
Everything in the civilian world had to be a production, made way too complicated by too many opinions. On tour, his life had been simple. Walk, fight, eat, and when necessary, sleep. He craved the simplicity of those days, even if he didn’t like the constant moving, dust, and bloodshed.
Being back in Elkridge released the strangling tension that had almost suffocated him the past three days.
Harold shoved his head inside Jack’s van to assess Chase in the far back seat, legs stretched forward where the middle seat would have been. “You okay there, buddy?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s my man.”
Claudia moved in. “Move back, old man. Let Rivers and Jack help him out.”
Jack poked his head in next. “Need help lifting that leg?”
Chase shoved his crutches toward the van’s sliding door and reversed the process of getting into the vehicle, which seemed twice as hard when applied to getting out. A little nudge here and a shove there shot pain up his spine. How he managed it without passing out, he didn’t know. He should have taken the offered pain meds, but too many of his friends had gotten hooked and were now going through withdrawal.
Good thing Ashley and Jack took Bobby’s truck back to the Hershams’ for him, ’cause he wasn’t likely to be driving anytime soon. Ashley still hadn’t mentioned Lillia, Bobby’s sister, and he wasn’t about to bring up the sore subject.
He made his way up the cobblestone path and through the door, where he found Ashley holding a wiggling, delighted dog and pointing at a bed. She’d given him her mom’s old room, and the haunted look in her expression gave him pause. He understood how old memories could still cause pain, and he gestured toward the family room.
“I can sleep on the couch.”
“Harold and Claudia worked hard staging this room for you,” she said, with a direct and revealing expression.
After being in the town for several weeks, he understood her message clearly. Don’t offend the natives. He hopped over to the bed and sat on the edge, lifting his leg to the mattress. He stared at what appeared like half the population of Elkridge and worked to find something to say. When he finally opened his mouth, a commotion at the door caused everyone to turn.
“Sorry I’m late.” Jenna came through the door. “Maggie says hello. She made everyone sandwiches. They’re in the kitchen.”
“Any roast beef?” Jack asked.
Jenna reached up and patted the scruffy man’s cheek. “Made ’specially for you, Mad Jack.”
The announcement of food emptied the room with the exception of Jenna and Ashley. The two women stood guard, one on either side of the bed. When he lay back, both women reached for the pillow. All three laughed, and Jenna relinquished her hold.
“I’m going to make sure everyone’s fed and leave you in peace. Want something to eat?”
“Naw, we’re fine.” Ashley laid her hand on Chase’s shoulder.
When the door clicked closed behind Jenna, Ashley slowly sank onto the mattress. He was troubled by the black circles under her eyes and the pale version of her normally vibrant skin.
He reached out and covered her fingers. “You should eat something.”
“I already did. Do you want something? Water? A pain pill?”
He patted the edge of the bed. “Having you here is all I need.”
Ashley stretched out beside him, careful to avoid his ribs. Her head heavy on his shoulder, she let out a long, deep sigh.
He kissed the top of her head. “I can’t believe half the town is here.”
A short burst of air from her nose landed on his neck. “They like you and care about you. You couldn’t keep them away if you wanted to.”
“They care about you, too.”
“I’ve come to realize that. I’m thankful Maggie’s letting me pay her for living in one of her rental cabins. At least now I have a place to stay for the short term.”
He drew a circle on her shoulder. “Sounds like you’ve been thinking again.”
“Guess I have. Elkridge is my home, and where I belong. I didn’t understand the essence of home before. I may have to leave for a little while to find a job, but I’ll always come back here.”
A twist of regret formed in his chest. “So coming with me is off the table?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I want to help people, but being a nurse isn’t for me. I’ll leave the life and death bit to others—if that makes any sense.”
“Yeah, I get it. I like working with my hands, but for something other than digging trenches.”
Ashley released a sigh. “My entire days were filled with washing and cleaning and cooking and medicating until I could barely move. Since I don’t have those things filling up my day, I feel anxious. Like I need to be doing something. But after I’ve finished packing and moving, I’m not sure what it will be.”
“That perfectly describes how I feel about the military. If I get out, what would I do? My whole adult life I’ve been trained to do one thing, defend this country with my mind and body. I don’t know anything else. And I didn’t like school the first time around, so the idea of going back for more makes me cringe.”
Ashley pushed to her elbow, scanning his face. “You don’t have to go back to school, and deep down, I think you know what you want to do. You fixed the shop’s staircase and repaired Maggie’s benches outside the café. Harold’s been mighty glad to have the help at the store.”
“You found out about me helping Harold, huh?”
“When that out-of-town drunk smashed Jack’s barstools, he was very glad you could glue them back together.”
Jack had gained Chase’s respect that day. The guy took down a drunk the size of a tank, but not before the oversized idiot had decided to smash a few things and taken a couple of swings at locals.
“All that’s little stuff.”
“All that little stuff adds up and creates a big pile of work. Work that people need help with and are willing to pay for.”
“Then we’d both be in the same place. No place to live. Starting a business. Trying to heal a broken leg. With this leg, I won’t be fixing things for quite a while. Besides, the government dictates the next several months.”
Disappointment over not being able to convince her to come with him sank in. He didn’t need her help with rehabilitation—the military would help—but he’d come to rely on Ashley, her unending devotion, her giving nature, and her hundred-degree temper.
“I might take you up on the offer of food and a pain pill.”
“You got it.” Ashley rolled from the bed. “The doctor said you could take up to two.”
“One will be fine.”
A knock at the door drew their attention. Sheriff Joe’s head appeared through the crack in the door. “I was hoping to get a quick word with Chase.”
“Great timing. Another fifteen minutes, and one of those pain pills would have knocked me loopy.” Chase tried to shift higher in the bed, but ceased all movement when excruciating pain called a halt to his efforts.
Joe walked closer to the end of the bed while Ashley left the room. Chase loved the sexy swing of her hips, and he got a full view while she disappeared through the doorway. “What can I do for you, Sheriff?”
“I came to check on you and to confirm some information. Rivers said you were mumbling about hearing automatic fire up on the ridge.”
Uneasiness made his chest tighten. “The thing is, Sheriff, I’ve been in a combat zone for a while. I’ve seen some horrific things, if you know what I mean. And lately I’ve been having flashbacks. They seem so real. Post-trauma type stuff.” Chase clutched the sheets, bunching them in his hand. “At the time, I could have sworn I heard machine gun fire, but the truth is, I can’t be sure.”
Admitting his failing out loud tri
ggered both shame and guilt, along with a taste of relief and freedom. He took a long, deep, unrestrained breath.
Sheriff Joe took a step closer to the head of the bed and reached inside his coat to an inner pocket. He extended his arm, holding an evidence bag containing a dozen or so metal shell casings along with yellow disposable ear plugs. “Found these up on the ridge about three hundred yards from your snowmobile tracks. Rivers also found a couple of bullets lodged in some pine trees. Based on the evidence, I’m thinking you hitting that rock might have saved your life.”
Chase locked onto the bag in the sheriff’s hand. “You got a problem on your hands.”
“S’pose so.” The sheriff gave him a direct and pointed stare. “I’d appreciate if you’d keep this conversation between us. I don’t want to scare the townsfolk or get them all riled up.”
Chase extended a hand to the man. “You have my word.”
The sheriff gripped and then released his hand, then shoved the bag back inside his jacket. “Take care of yourself, Gunny.” He gave Chase a nod and left.
Ashley passed the sheriff on his way out of the room. “What did he want?”
“It was a friendly visit to check on me,” he said, not wanting to stir her fears.
He’d protect her. Any way he could.
His body reacted. He couldn’t help needing her.
Every time he woke up in the hospital, she’d been there, watching his back, silently supporting him. She didn’t fuss or add a burden. The constant longing to touch her filled his lungs and pushed the air aside. His hands clenched, wanting to feel the strands of her hair falling through his fingers, or the soft curves of her body brush against his.
He had to go back, but how could he leave her behind?
He reached out, and her fingers so perfectly folded into his that he pulled her hand to his lips. And just like that, his body eased. Bobby’s voice echoed in the far back reaches of his mind. But you love her. Come on, admit it.
Chase’s response reverberated. Yeah, I love her. But she doesn’t need me—I need her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Colorado night had a nip in the air. She craved a moonlight walk, but with the fresh snow, Chase couldn’t have made it to the end of the driveway even if he’d tried. New Year’s Eve was supposed to be romantic, filled with parties, and drinks, and kisses at midnight. But somehow she didn’t feel like celebrating.
He was leaving tomorrow.
Chase had received word from his administration office. He’d been ordered to Buckley Air Force Base, where he’d take a medevac repositioning flight to Walter Reed for his continued therapy.
The last two days had been magical. The love fairy must have been dropping extra dust because Ashley had fallen completely in love, hard and fast, faster than her more conservative values had time to translate into modern-day terms. She’d gotten the feeling Chase understood time was short because he didn’t want to sleep.
Adjusting her position, she cringed when her elbow landed wrong on his ribs, but he held tight, refusing to let go. She wished the night would last forever so she wouldn’t have to say good-bye in the morning.
Chase reclined on the overstuffed leather couch. The twinkle of the white Christmas lights she’d hung on the mantel, the music playing in the background, and the soft glow of the fire gave the room a cozy feel. In his arms, she tried forcing impending reality to fade away.
“What are you thinking?” His breath caressed the skin below her ear, sending tingles to her toes.
“Do you think anyone’s ever figured out how to make time stop?”
He chuckled. “Don’t know, but stopping time would be pretty cool.”
She liked the playful tone of his voice, and lifted her head from his shoulder to be sure of his mood. Her brow lifted in question. “What would you do with that time?”
His hand lowered, cupping her bottom, and pulled, rubbing her against his growing need. His need matched hers, and she wished he wasn’t enveloped in head-to-toe bandages. She’d been about to make the suggestion they turn in early when an agitated voice stalled her thoughts.
“Is there a reason you have your hand on my daughter’s ass?”
Ashley rolled so fast she landed on the floor. Chase grabbed his leg, gasping.
“Dad?”
Chase’s head snapped toward her Dad who stood, hands on hips, on the living room landing. The light from the kitchen framed his body, sharpening his outline.
Her dad’s disposition hadn’t changed. “I asked you a question, soldier.”
Soldier? Her dad knew Chase was a soldier? Odd. Then again, military could always spot military in a weird, spy-sense kind of way.
“Yes, sir,” Chase responded.
“And that would be?”
“I love your daughter, sir.”
Ashley’s jaw dropped and her head snapped back. “That’s just great. My dad shows up, and in less than three seconds you tell him what you’ve never told me? Marines. Can’t communicate worth a damn, but you end up loving them anyway. I’m so screwed.”
“Ashley.” Her dad’s menacing tone meant her word choice was inappropriate.
“Here we go.” She rolled her eyes. “No double standards. You haven’t been here. You don’t get to judge me anymore. That privilege was forfeited a long time ago.”
“Ashley, I’d like to have a discussion with you in the kitchen. Please.”
If her dad hadn’t stumbled over the word please, she might have refused. She hadn’t known that particular phonic existed in his vocabulary, and could easily imagine how difficult it had been to get it past his lips.
She tilted her head back and studied his steel-rod posture. He looked stunning in his pressed uniform. His medals and ribbons were precisely positioned and displayed in a rainbow of colors. But his face was so sad.
She wanted to turn back the clock to a time she once stood on her tippy-toes in patent leather shoes, cupped his face, and told him she would get him well and make the boogeyman go away. But those times were in the past. Anger and resentment had worn away her store of compassion.
“Fine.” She pushed from the floor. “Will you be all right?” she asked Chase.
“Not going anywhere.”
A nauseous tension filled her as she walked to the kitchen. Why was her dad here? What did he want? Either way, he wouldn’t stay. The earlier she found out what he expected from her, the sooner he’d leave.
She ambled to the kitchen island, biding her time, then turned and crossed her arms. “Why are you here?”
His shoulders lifted in a simple yet defeated shrug. “This is my home. Or at least it was.”
The last sentence created an understatement. “Funny you say that because you haven’t lived in it much, and the bank’s about to repo it.”
“I didn’t come here to fight with you, Ashley.”
“No? Then why?”
“I wanted to see you.” The sharp edge of his tone had softened. “To make sure you’re okay. To ask your forgiveness.”
Her mouth fell open again. Her mind was so busy processing what he said, she couldn’t find muscles to close the gaping hole. Her dad had aged. Peppery gray hair covered both sides of his head, and the kitchen light shone off the top. More than the deep crevices etched across his face, she saw a man whose heart had been shattered. She’d read his letters. He’d lost the love of his life, and only sorrow remained.
“I read the letters, Dad. For most of my life, I was convinced you didn’t come home because you didn’t want me.”
“Ash.” He took a step, then stopped when she waved him off. The emotions in his eyes kept coming after her, pummeling her defenses.
“I get it now. You should know there’s nothing to forgive. Your letters helped me understand, but I wish you and Mom would have talked to me. I made some assumptions. Wrong assumptions. But I’ve corrected them now.”
A flicker of relief crossed his face. “Your mother made me promise not to swoop in and help, but
I can’t help it. I love you. You’re all I have left.”
He held out his large, callused hand. She reached out, accepting his as a peace offering, unwilling to allow the past to dictate the future.
“Dance with me, Ashtray?”
“You don’t like this music.”
“We can make our type of music, as long as you’re willing to dance with me.” His voice still had that gruff tone, but his intentions blasted away at the stone hardening her heart.
“Do I still get to stand on your toes?”
A small, glistening ray of hope poked through the layer of formality on his face, and his shoulders eased. It had been a long time since she’d seen the softer side of her daddy, and the expression filled her with wonder. “Why are you here? I mean…”
“My Ashtray, always so curious.”
Her heart squeezed. She’d waited so long. She leaned in and rested her cheek on his pressed pocket while he moved to a beat he created. They circled around and around, and she listed to the beat of his heart, waiting like she always had.
“Why are you wearing a formal uniform?”
“When you called, I got the impression you needed me. Arranging my schedule and flights home took several days, but I came as soon as I could, which happened to be straight from an important meeting.”
She arched back in his arms. “But I didn’t call.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. His thumb moved over the pad in a practiced manner, then he turned the phone.
Her distant voice floated out of the speaker. “Oh, Daddy. What am I supposed to do now? I’m so lost.”
She dropped her head to his solid chest.
Her dad cleared his throat. “Answer a question for me.” Ashley tilted her chin up to listen. “What are your plans? I need to figure out what to do with this house.”
Her stomach clenched into a giant bundle of disappointment. Of course. He wasn’t here for her. He’d come to close the house. Her head fell forward, and she worked to shove the tender childhood memories she’d been reliving back into the discarded toy box where they belonged. He hadn’t come home to her. She stepped out of his arms.
