by Ronie Kendig
Though her eyes slanted a bit, she looked half Asian. But she was all beautiful. Her skin—one word came to mind: alabaster.
Okay, now he was losing it. Who even used words like that anymore?
He extended his hand. “Heath Daniels.”
“Jia.”
Her fingers were cold and small in his, yet strong. “Nice handshake.” He liked that. A lot. “My uncle says you can tell a lot about a person by the strength of the handshake.”
A subtle tinge of pink hit her cheeks. Was she blushing? Man, when was the last time he’d done that to a woman? Maybe he hadn’t lost his touch.
“Yeah?” She folded her arms over her chest. “And what does mine say?”
“Confident.” Heath nodded, as if agreeing with his own assessment. Yeah, now that she shook off the shock of meeting Trinity close up and personal, this woman had confidence oozing out of her pores. “You aren’t afraid to try something new.”
“Interesting.” That wasn’t quite an affirmation, but the way her lips quirked told him she wanted to smile. But wouldn’t.
Why? Could she see his scar? He adjusted the black A Breed Apart ball cap, smoothing his hand down his shorn hair. She hadn’t seen the back of his skull, so she couldn’t have seen the scar. Right?
Shift gears. Don’t obsess or stress.
Laughter billowed on the cool wind as the sun set. Heath glanced toward the building guarded by sandbags at least six feet high and deep. Hogan, Aspen, and Jibril disappeared around the door. Chow time.
“We’re heading to the mess hall. Want to join us?” It seemed logical, and maybe it’d give him a chance to unwrap the mystery before him. She’d given almost all one-word answers. Was she always this stiff? Or had Trinity rattled her?
Nah. She wasn’t the type easily rattled.
Which meant something else was behind her standoffish behavior. The training in him made him want to find out what she was hiding. Or maybe it was the soft brown eyes against that fair skin that tricked him into inviting her to dinner.
Heath took a step toward the building and away from those thoughts.
“I …” She wet her lips.
“It’s a nice quiet dinner with … about five hundred grunts and bad food.” He chuckled, trying to ease her nerves. Heath coiled his hand around Trin’s lead, noting his partner full at ease so he didn’t have anything to be worried about. “I promise, Trinity won’t drool on your food tray”—he paused for a smile—“much.”
“Sorry, I’ve got to get to work.”
Yeah, should’ve known a pretty woman wouldn’t want to hang out with a washed-up wannabe when there were men around who had all their well-muscled pieces in the right places.
“No worries.” He tugged open the door and stepped into the mess hall. Why he even created that personal invitation to rejection he didn’t know. He rubbed the back of his neck and entered the cafeteria. Something about her … he couldn’t put his finger on it. But she seemed … familiar.
Six
The whumping of rotors had nothing on her pulse. Darci stalked back into the command building and down the hall. Did the general know? If he knew and hadn’t told her … How could this happen? Breathing hard, she hurried around the corner. And skidded to a stop.
No guard.
Meant no general.
Darci spun. What was she going to do? She darted her gaze around the narrow hall, as if the gray cement and walls would provide the solution.
The general would tell her if he’d known Daniels would be here, right? Had the Green Beret returned to duty? He had his dog. He looked fit. Into her mind flitted the image of his black performance shirt stretching over his chest and biceps—definitely fit.
Had he been cleared to return to duty?
Okay, this wasn’t a big deal. He was here. She was here. But they were on different missions. It wasn’t like she’d be working with him or anything.
Then again, little missteps could blow her entire cover.
“Why don’t you check out the entertainment tonight? I think it might do you some good.”
The general’s order pushed her back outside and to the activities building. Inside, she headed to the bulletin board where schedules were posted. A wave of heat rushed through Darci as she stared at an eleven-by-thirteen poster with a handler and his dog. The headline seemed lit in neon lights: FORMER GREEN BERET TO SHARE HIS STORY. There, along with the time and date was an image of Daniels and his Belgian Malinois.
No no no. Darci stepped back, mouth dry. This couldn’t be happening.
Okay, calm down. He doesn’t remember. According to the doctors and experts, he should have no recollection of her or the first few days after that incident. So, there wasn’t a problem. Right? She wet her lips and trudged back into the darkening evening.
But what if he did remember?
“One way to find out,” Darci mumbled as she pivoted and entered the mess. Then stopped. If he was in there, he was with friends. She wouldn’t be able to direct the conversation.
Okay, so … then what?
Maybe if she showed up at the activities arena ahead of the scheduled time, she’d catch him before he went onstage. Waiting around wouldn’t work because they were flying out first thing in the morning to dig in for the next week for more work. And her only chance to get back to the site and figure out what those striations meant. If her instincts were right …
Two hours. She’d have to kill two hours. And she knew just how to do it. In the activities building, she snatched the poster and went to her cot. There she retrieved her laptop, powered up, and while she waited, let her gaze sweep the poster again. He was good-looking, but that wasn’t why she had to know about his background.
She typed in the organization A Breed Apart. The first page of results provided a link to the website. After scanning the mission statement, she clicked on TEAMS and found a close-up of Heath and Trinity at the very top with a link to his bio. Energy surged through her. This was what she wanted.
A highly decorated Green Beret, Heath Daniels and his military war dog, Trinity, served several tours in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Somalia. Two weeks before returning home for some R&R, Heath and Trinity were involved in a mission that received bad intel. Trinity hit on explosives and stopped Heath, leaving him with permanent scarring on his right hand, but the soldier who tripped the bomb died in the blast.
Never one to give up, Heath fought his way out of the hospital. Diagnosed with traumatic brain injury, he battled excruciating headaches and occasional blackouts. As a result, Heath was medically discharged.
Darci stared at the words, choked up. He’d been discharged. She’d heard the men on his team saying he’d rather be dead than not serve. Is that why he’d joined the private contracting dog team?
She scanned down a little more and read about their journey toward a civilian partnership. Impressive that the dog had become too attached to be reassigned to another handler.
He was a hero. One of the real ones. And even though she had more information on him now, she still didn’t know what he remembered of the incident or the days after.
A distant noise—no, barking! Darci punched to her feet. Outside, she spotted Heath and his dog crossing the compound. Heath flung a ball down the road, and Trinity bolted after it.
Back at her cot, Darci powered down and stowed her laptop. She snatched a clean shirt and stuffed it on, then brushed out her hair. As she checked her teeth, she stopped. What’re you doing? It’s not a date.
True, but maybe if she was a little refreshed, she’d be more on her toes.
Yeah, go with it.
Within minutes, she entered the outdoor “theater,” if one could call it that. It amounted to a field where chairs had been set up and a black stage that stretched the width of the front. The two times she’d been here before had been for celebrities. Once with country crooner Craig Morgan, and the next time she had the privilege of witnessing the genius that was the Lt. Dan Band with cofounder Gary Sini
se.
Darci edged around the fenced-in area, careful to cling to the shadows at first.
Onstage, Heath walked back and forth with Trinity on a lead. They made it to stage right, and he released her lead. Though he said something to the dog, Darci couldn’t make it out. Then he walked to the middle and lay down.
Trinity watched him, 100 percent focused on her handler. In the spotlights of the stage, the amber shading of her coat seemed more vibrant than usual. Her black nose all but vanished against the black curtain.
Trinity launched forward and raced to Heath’s side in what looked like two large bounds and heeled at his side. Incredible. What signal had he given? Darci hadn’t noticed one.
Heath sat up and rubbed her ears. She licked his face.
“Daniels!”
Darci flinched as someone came up on her six, glanced at her, then continued toward the stage.
Heath squinted at them, apparently blinded by the glare of the lights.
“They’re moving your show up,” the man announced. “You’ve got thirty. You good with that?”
“Sounds like the choice was made for me.”
The man laughed. “You got it.” He spun and stalked away.
Darci eased out of sight.
“Jia?” With one hand on the ledge, Heath hopped down from the stage and Trinity with him. The guy’s muscles rippled and stretched his shirt taut.
Those were things she should notice as a part of her job. Because it told her he had the muscle power to take her down. Of course, it shouldn’t elicit a traitorous, involuntary reaction from her body. But it did. How crazy was that?
She stepped into the open. “Hi.”
His cockeyed grin made her heart skip a beat. Grow up, Darci! “
You checkin’ up on me?” “
Actually, yes.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” Why did he seem so pleased? It was meant to put him on the defensive, not make him happy.
“Saw the poster in the activities building, so I looked up A Breed Apart.” She walked with him to the side of the outdoor theater. “And your bio.”
“Ah.” Heath’s smile faded as he looked down.
“I’m glad Trinity came home to you.”
He shot a sidelong glance to her, then to Trinity. “Yeah, I was lost without her. When they called and said she was declared ‘excess,’ I flew into action. Paid to bring her back and picked her up after the vet cleared her.”
“You’re a good team.” Thank goodness, her mistake in the field hadn’t created a permanent separation.
From his pocket, he produced a ball. Trinity pranced, turned, scurried a few feet, then glanced back. Heath flung it down the aisle of the seats. Trinity tore off after it.
He leaned against the platform that formed the soundstage. Hands resting on the wood on either side of him, he looked at her. “So, you know my story—”
“Not all of it.”
He cracked another smile, then tossed his chin at her. “What’s your story?” He slumped back and folded his arms over his chest. “What’re you doing out here on a military base? I mean, I have yet to see you in ACUs or battle dress, and you don’t salute the officers.”
Wow, he hadn’t missed much. Although she did salute General Burnett. But him alone.
“Geology. I’m with a geological survey team.” Why did that lie feel like a mouthful of the rocks they’d been studying? “We’ve been here a few weeks already, and we head out first thing in the morning.”
Soldiers trickled into the arena as Trinity trotted back with her ball. Heath retrieved it and tucked it in his pocket. Trinity paced, then sat back on her haunches at Heath’s side.
“What are you surveying?”
“Rocks.”
“Wow, I never would’ve guessed.”
Darci laughed and relented with the information. “There are reports of lithium up in the mountains, so we’re trying to determine if mining will be lucrative or a waste of time and resources.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but the Chinese are stealing all our gigs. Why do the work for them again?”
Darci eyed him. He’d paid attention to what was happening here. She couldn’t say the same for many of the soldiers or most people she knew. “Thankfully, my job is just to determine if the deposits are large enough to warrant mining. I’ll let the politicians argue out their differences.”
He nodded, watching the men and women filter in.
“But I would hope that no matter who mines the lithium, Afghanistan can become a stable, formidable country.” “Amen.”
“Religion?” She kept the curiosity from her tone.
His smile twisted to the side. “Sort of bred into me. Grew up in church, my uncle dragging my angry teen butt in every Sunday.” He glanced at his watch. “Hey, I need to head backstage.” He took a step away, his gaze on hers. “Are you staying for the show?”
Darci saw it all over his face. Expectation. Hope. What was even stranger was she felt it. A hunger within her to be wanted, to have someone who cared, gnawed at her defenses. “I wouldn’t miss Trinity in action for the world.”
Amusement twinkled in his pale gray eyes. “Good. Would you …?” He checked the crowds again, then hauled his attention back to her. “Up for a walk afterward?”
Her chest squeezed. “I …” She had to get some sleep. They were heading out early. “Sure.”
“Great.” He looked down at the lead in his hand, then peeked at her again. “I know this will sound crazy since we just met, but I like hearing you talk. Your voice sounds familiar.”
“The men and women beside you are your friends, your partners. You’re on the same team,” Heath said at the close of his presentation as he stepped off the stage, walking the center aisle, pleased that he hadn’t fainted, blacked out, or choked up. “You hang out, you grab rec and rack time together—well, no coed, or you’ll have officers breathing down your neck.”
Laughter rippled through the packed-out area.
“But you’re there for each other. You’ve got each other’s backs.”
Beside him, Jibril—dressed in full practice gear—stood and lunged at him.
He heard the collective gasp and knew the plan had worked. Turning, he saw Trinity sail off the stage, over the heads of a half dozen soldiers and right into Jibril’s back. Which shoved Heath—and his head—straight into a chair.
Whack. His teeth vibrated against his skull. Pain speared his head and neck.
But he regrouped. Shoved aside the pain. Focused on Jibril, who’d gone down beneath the weight of Trinity, who’d chomped on the heavily padded arm.
Heath hauled himself upright. “Trinity, out!”
Disengaging, she shook her head to release her teeth from the fabric, then trotted to his side.
The crowd erupted in applause as he helped Jibril to his feet and out of the suit. Concern clouded Jibril’s eyes as he whispered, “You okay? Your head hit—”
Heath winked, about all he could do with the searing fire in his neck and back. Afterward, he’d down a few ibuprofen and be fine.
He returned to the stage as the applause died down. “As you can see, Trinity is trained to protect me with or without commands, with or without a lead. She’s got my back. The funny thing is—that fateful day, she warned me.” Man, he hated to admit that. “Told me there was something bad, and I didn’t listen—that day, I broke behavior. Another guy on my team hadn’t noticed Trinity’s warning. He lost his life, and I almost did, too.”
Heath looked down, remembering Tiller. “Sometimes, we do that to God.” The words served as a gong against his conscience. “He prods us, gives us warnings, and we just ignore it. Do life our way.” The truth clogged in his throat.
Heath swallowed and went on. “Then when things go bad, we blame Him. Get angry.” Oh yeah. Definitely. “In fact, I’d bet someone in this crowd is ticked at me right now for even bringing this up.” He held up his hand with the scars from Trinity. “Don’t put God in a position w
here He has to scar your sorry carcass. I did that. Then I was ticked. Beyond ticked!” Still am! “I hated God, hated life. Laid up with TBI and discharged from the one thing I wanted in life—being a Green Beret—I blamed God for everything.”
Shame gripped him, thinking of Jia listening to him. What would she think? He had this overwhelming need to see her reaction, yet as he scanned the crowd, he couldn’t see her. Or worse, what if she learned he still felt that way? Not as much … but the aftereffects lingered.
He shared how he’d begged God for a miracle—to heal him. When it was obvious that wouldn’t happen, he sunk even lower. In his darkest hour, he’d begged God for one good thing to happen. When nothing happened, he vowed his days of begging were over. Never again. But then a ray of sunlight struck his storm-riddled world—he got the call that the Army had decided to retire Trinity.
“God has your back.” Toes dangling off the edge of the stage, Heath stared out at the faces of those who put their lives on the line. “You aren’t alone. He’s there. Always. And I pray you find the strength to reach out to Him.” He drew in a long breath and smiled. “Just because things don’t go the way you planned, doesn’t mean God left you. He may have just put you on a new course. Follow the adventure!” He held up a hand. “Thanks for listening to me tonight. I’ll be around to talk if you have questions.”
Jibril took the stage to explain A Breed Apart a little more, then turned over the stage and night to one of the soldiers, who dismissed everyone.
A steady stream of admirers walked by Trinity, but—thank goodness—they remembered he’d warned them not to mistake her for a domestic dog they could pet. Trinity was working. Always.
He shook hands, signed some miniature scrapbooks, and took pictures with others. All the while, he searched the crowds for Jia. Where had she gone? Heath hoped he hadn’t said something from the stage that scared her off. Being brutal-honest with the audience opened himself up to ridicule. But … the thought of her thinking worse of him rankled.
