Ghost's Treasure

by Cheyenne Meadows

  He wandered around outside, his mind in turmoil. How did she do this to him? Within two days' time, she found the express lane to his most hidden memories, yanked hard on the locked door to his emotions with a few soft words and one caress. Damn her. She worried about him. The fact threw a mist over the raging fire in his gut. No one had cared enough about him to worry about such a mundane thing as sleep in a long time.

  Too long.

  The words popped out of nowhere, earning a growl of annoyance. He lost the ability to give, to love years ago. Like a severed appendage, those emotions didn't simply grow back. Yet her concern over his lack of shut-eye touched him, even amused him to a certain degree. In all honesty, he liked how she fussed over him. And that could prove a danger to them both.

  Sucking in a breath, he focused on regaining his composure and control he prided himself on. Either he told her to back off under no uncertain terms, or he loaded her back up in the vehicle and delivered her straight back to Ryan.

  His conscience grimaced at the latter idea. Ryan wouldn't have drawn him in unless he truly thought these men were on a level with the most elite. Besides, he promised to stick by her, and he never went back on his word. Bottom line, he was stuck with Josie until the mission came to a conclusion. However long that took.

  Physical and mental fatigue began to set in. Sighing wearily, he glanced at the sky and changed course, heading in a circle around the house. The security system was top-notch, though not without faults. His mechanical eyes in the forest tested fine and simply waited for something to cross their path. They were as safe as he could make them with technology. The rest fell to his instincts and skills. Josie's life depended on them.

  Walking around the front of the house, he moved slowly enough his impromptu roommate could easily see and identify him as he headed toward the front door.

  The odds didn't favor an attack tonight. He'd bet the ones responsible were still rattled by his return fire. They'd need time to reorganize, formulate another plan, and bring in reinforcements to try to hit them with overpowering numbers. Most likely that took more than a few hours to complete, giving him time to get some much needed rest.

  Maybe he could escape those soft green eyes in his sleep.

  Chapter 19

  "Wow. I can't believe they're actually able to physically do that." Josie sat forward on the couch, leaning closer to the television.

  Intrigued, Ghost walked over, taking a seat on a foot stool nearby, his rifle still in hand.

  He slept deep for a few hours, nearly into the pre-dawn hours. Awake and alert now, he felt rested up enough to last another two or three days if needed. Blinking, he stared at the TV screen.

  Josie spared him a glance. "It's about the Navy SEALs and the training they go through. Talk about unbelievable."

  The clip showed men lifting large segments of trees over their heads, holding it for an extended period of time before changing gears to a swimming pool with a dozen men all bobbing up and down, their hands tied behind their backs with zip cord. The commentator droned on about the rigors of the toughest military training in the world.

  Ghost watched avidly, recalling that particular event in his life. SEAL training pushed each man to his very limits and some over. Most dropped out before the final phase. He refused to cry uncle and managed to survive through commencement a few years ago, but it seemed like another lifetime.

  He shook his head as the documentary showed tiny pieces of the entire ordeal, most probably banned due to security reasons. They did speak about the exercise with live ammo as they invaded a training compound and fired at dummies in an attempt to prepare the men for what they would face in a real world situation. Close. But Ghost knew for a fact their schooling proved only the tip of the iceberg for the various missions he'd completed and endless scenarios he found himself in.

  "That's impressive." Josie clicked the television off once the show ended, turning her attention to him.

  He saw her eyes narrow and prepared for an onslaught. She didn't disappoint. "You don't think it's amazing that they can go through such training and even survive?"

  He really didn't want to have this discussion with her. Unfortunately, like a dog with a bone, she didn't seem to deter easily.

  "Hmm. You don't appear surprised by anything they had to do. Why is that?" She tapped one finger over her lip. "You already know about it. Maybe even went through it yourself."

  She really was too smart for her own good. Ghost stared out the front window, trying valiantly to ignore her inquisitiveness.

  "You're a SEAL, aren't you?"

  Setting aside his rifle on the floor at his feet, he pulled his pistol out, checking it over for the tenth time, ensuring each part remained clean and ready for action. The task enabled him to focus on something besides nosey Josie.

  She continued to pelt him with questions. "If you're a SEAL, you've seen everything. Man, oh, man. Playing with all the rifles in the world. The obstacle courses." Spinning on the couch, she tucked one leg under her to stare at him fully. "I've never spoken to a special ops guy before. I have so many questions."

  He snorted. Like that was a big surprise.

  "Did you always want to be a SEAL?" she persisted.

  "Lady…" His tone carried the tiniest bit of warning.

  Josie blinked, then a small smile appeared. He couldn't help but notice how her whole face lit up and glowed with beauty with the addition of a simple grin. Why no man had snatched up the pretty librarian already, he didn't have a clue. She had a body that wouldn't quit, an upbeat spirit, and more spunk than most. Wrap everything into a single package, and she'd make for a damn good girlfriend.

  "Ever go skinny dipping?"

  Except for her unending questions and rampant curiosity. He sighed and flipped his gun over to check the other side.

  "I bet you have. Probably did that in your decadent teen years. Skinny dipping with the cheerleaders at the lake on summer break." She tilted her head and nibbled her bottom lip.

  The action made his long dormant libido sit up and take notice.

  "What are you doing?" He pinned her gaze.

  "Playing twenty questions." She lifted her chin almost defiantly.

  He shook his head. "I'm not playing with you."

  "That's okay." She shrugged. "I'll ask and if you don't answer, no biggie. I'll just make up the answers you don't provide."

  "Wonderful." He grumbled, even as a spark of amusement hit him square in the chest. Leave it to Josie to paint his life in brightness and wild escapades.

  Josie tapped her finger over her lips. "Let's see. I bet your favorite color is pink. You grew up wanting to be a stripper, love vanilla ice cream melting over a woman's hot belly as you lap it up." She looked at his feet, then back again. "Oh, and you stay in shape practicing ballet with size eighteen ballet slippers."

  He stared at her, dumbfounded. Where did she come up with this shit? Though he found her ramblings almost entertaining, he preferred not to find out where she went next.

  Tucking his gun back in the holster at his ankle, he walked over to his main duffle bag, sifted through until he found the item he wanted. He carried the book over to Josie and handed it over. "Here. Read this."

  Her face contorted in confusion. "What's this? Abe Lincoln?" Her gaze flicked from the cover to his face.

  "Stop bothering me with questions and do something beneficial. Read." He returned to his seat and plopped back down.

  "Why Abe Lincoln?"

  Ghost shrugged. "He's an interesting man. You can learn things from certain historical leaders."

  She seemed to ponder his words, then moved to curl up in the corner of the couch before opening the front cover.

  The house fell blissfully quiet as she started reading.

  Chapter 20

  Josie spent part of the morning watching flurries fall from the sky after reading Ghost's book and contemplated what made her bodyguard tick. A few puzzle pieces tantalized her already. Not enough to form
a solid picture, but certainly more than she had before. Slowly but surely, she made small progressive steps in her goal to figure the man out.

  Finished cleaning the kitchen, Josie wiped her hands on the damp towel, and flicked it at Ghost as he stood nearby finishing the last of his coffee. He arched an eyebrow at her, but remained mute.

  She grinned, flipping the improvised weapon at his rear once more.

  Setting his coffee mug back on the counter, Ghost pinned her with his steely gaze. "Don't bite off more than you can chew."

  She bit her lip to keep from giggling. Waking up this morning, she felt energetic and a bit playful, despite the increasing odds that they'd have deadly visitors soon. No boogey men showed up the night they'd arrived or all the next day. Today certainly could be the one, at least Ghost seemed to think so judging by his forest camouflage clothing choice instead of his typical black or even blue jeans, which she'd seen him wear before. Instead of wallowing in worry, she decided to embrace life, enjoy the hours while she could, just in case this proved to be her last day on earth. Gigging her bodyguard fell into her entertainment category, whether he wanted to be there or not.

  Another person might have taken one glimpse of his fierce expression, tucked tail, and ran. Not her. She knew him well enough to stand in the trenches and push his buttons a few times. Josie eagerly stepped up to the challenge. Taking time to aim, she smacked his rear, the popping sound cracked across the room. She squealed when he lunged for her.

  Deceptively quick, Ghost grabbed her around the middle, lifted her with ease, and deposited her over his shoulder, her rear sticking up in the air. His strong arm wrapped around her thighs effectively stilling her halfhearted bid for freedom, while he snared the towel, yanked, and gave the material a toss on the kitchen cabinet.

  She assessed her new position, draped over his shoulder, hanging upside down, and staring straight at the man's rear. "Speaking of biting… A bird's eye view of the world's most perfect rear. I wonder…" She planted her hands on his cheeks and squeezed. "Oh, yeah. Definitely squeezable. And delicious. Just one little nip." Leaning in, she opened her mouth wide only to end up grunting as he tapped her rear, pushed her up, then returned her to her feet. His hands remained clamped on her waist.

  Josie laughed in glee, then gasped when she saw his face, her heart stuttering at the relaxation spread across his features, the tiny flicker of amusement in his eyes.

  "What?" His gruff voice carried easily to her as she stood flush against his body.

  She reached out, absently resting her hands on his broad chest, unable to take her gaze from his face. "You're breathtaking."

  He snorted, the familiar flatness returned as quickly as it receded. "Lady, you need your eyes checked." Releasing her, he stepped back a couple of paces.

  "It's true. Not just your physical appearance, although you top the scale on that particular matter. But, inside, too."

  "Stop painting me in flattering colors. Or have you forgotten who I am and what I do?" His eyes narrowed.

  "I've forgotten nothing, just chosen to look a little deeper."

  He shook his head. "Blind as a fruit bat."

  Running with her instincts, she pursued the topic. She decided to test her theory about him by throwing out a couple of pitches. "You've got principles and courage. The military sharpened your skills, taught you new ones."

  "I never said I was in the military."

  She grinned, remembering the television show from last night on the Navy SEALs. Ghost simply looked like he fit in the bunch. "I've seen the swagger before. Career soldier, I'm sure. More than happy to leave the training base behind and fly anywhere to rid the world of evil. In your case, I'd bet special ops. High up in the food chain. The unsung heroes who go behind the scenes and perform great feats without the world having a clue."

  "I'm not anyone's hero." He walked over, picked up his rifle and a cleaning cloth. Sitting down, he began to clean the weapon with practiced ease.

  "Hey, anyone who walks into battle is a hero in my book."

  When he remained mute, she rambled on. "You've put up with me so far and haven't strangled me yet. That probably qualifies you for sainthood."

  He snorted. His shoulders eased as he wiped the metal down with a soft cloth. For all intents and purposes, he appeared bored with her observations, yet the sound bordered on amusement. Maybe he found her entertaining after all.

  "Doing what I'm paid to do."

  Josie tilted her head. "I don't think it's the money that motivates you."

  Ghost lifted his gaze.

  "I think you do it for more noble reasons. A man like you could easily live off the land, probably doesn't need a lot of cash to keep him happy. Just give him a gun, point out something that needs done, and the monetary payment is a trivial detail."

  "Don't go painting any pastel pretty pictures of me, lady. I'm a hired killer, or did you forget that already?"

  "You're still a man. Hard at times, soft at others."

  He stared blandly at her. "I assure you there's no softness left inside me."

  "Yes, there is. It's just been so long since you let that part of yourself free, you don't recognize you still possess the ability. But I see it."

  Ghost shrugged and continued with the task of cleaning his rifle. "Maybe at one time. Not any longer."

  Josie eyed him carefully, trying to read his expressionless face. "A woman." Her breath caught as his normally flat, emotionless eyes flashed momentarily with pain. Whatever ate at him still lived and desperately needed an avenue out. She played her hand, pushed for more, hoping to make a small dent in the steel wall around his soul. "A woman is responsible for this."

  His lips thinned out. Setting aside his rifle, he stood, pressed into her personal space. "Fine. You want to know?"

  "Yes." She lifted her chin, refusing to back down or cow.

  "My wife was four months pregnant when a drunk driver, a repeat offender, hit her head-on and killed them both."

  Josie gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth.

  "I was on a mission halfway across the world. By protocol, I didn't learn what happened until she'd been buried for weeks. The grass had already grown over by the time I actually made it to her grave."

  "Oh my god. What about the man responsible?" She whispered the question, needing to know the full story, her heart breaking for what he must have suffered needlessly.

  "The bastard had the audacity to die in the resulting car fire. He was mine to hunt, to torture, to put to death." His eyes flashed as he bit off every word. Rage and unbridled pain carried in his abrupt tone.

  "I'm so sorry." The phrase sounded so inadequate even though she spoke with utmost respect and sincerity.

  Turning, he paced across the kitchen floor. "That's the man I am. Willing to kill for a living. Hell, I'll kill for free when the assignment suits me."

  She moved behind him, lightly resting her hand on his shoulder. He tensed but didn't jerk away. A small victory in her book. "You do what you have to, what the country needs you to do. But you're selling yourself short about the man underneath."

  "Bullshit."

  Pausing a moment, she changed tactics and prayed she chose the right direction. "There's nothing you could have done. Like you said, you were half a world away."

  "I should have been there. With her. Protected her. I promised Lindsay I'd take care for her. Always."

  "Died with her?"

  "Yes." He put more emphasis on that one word than Josie had ever heard before, as if the word had been dragged from the very depths of his innermost being.

  She nodded. Survivor's guilt weighed heavily on Ghost. That explained so much. "Lindsay sounds like a woman who loved spring and laughter."

  "Flowers and children."

  "Enjoyed people and found joy in everyday life." She thought a moment. "What about your parents?"

  His lips thinned. "My father was a fly-by-night bastard. Never knew him. My mother died when a construction beam fell on her at
work. She was an architect, worked so hard to get her degree and provide for us."

  "Everyone you loved died before their time." She didn't realize she vocalized the words until he stared at her with such a look of misery, her heart clenched.

  He looked away, but not before she glimpsed resounding suffering. The first sign of sadness from him in their short time together. Maybe, just maybe, he could let some of his pent-up emotions go. She didn't fool herself into thinking he'd put the past behind him with one simple conversation. Yet if she could build enough rapport, pave the way for future discussions, perhaps she could rediscover the humanity inside him.

  She tried a different angle. "What would Lindsay have done if you didn't return from war?"

  His thumb rubbed across the stock of his gun. "We talked about it before my last tour. I told her I wanted her to be happy again, to move on, find another man to love who would raise our child as his own." His voice faded to a bare whisper.

  Tears pooled in her eyes at his pain, extreme heartache, and the tragic loss he endured each day. "Wouldn't she want the same for you?"

  He mulled the question over for a long moment.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Her eyes widened as she recognized the first alert mechanical eyes sounding off.

  Ghost's expression turned deadly serious. Quickly, he gathered up his rifle, slung it over his shoulder by the long strap, then handed her the spare. "You can handle a bolt action, right?"

  She nodded. "I trained on single bolt action until I switched to the Fortner." Reaching out, she took the rifle with steady hands.

  "Good. It's loaded with a full clip. Stay here and don't let anyone in. If he flushes you, go out the secret exit and head east to the stream at the bottom of the hill and hide in the brush. I'll find you there." He met her gaze, gave a brief nod, then slipped out the back door as quiet as a mouse.

  Chapter 21

  The low murmur of a car engine crept closer until ceasing entirely.