Dawn's Early Light

by Jessica Scott

  He laughed as the kitten arched her back and pounced sideways at the blue and silver lure. It banged against the floor, scaring her. She dove behind the stairs, then immediately peeked out around the edge at her nemesis.

  Cam grinned. The damn thing was entertaining, that was for sure. She was so clumsy and adorably awkward.

  “We had a feral cat on our outpost,” he said. “We called her Meow-Meow. She had a new litter of kittens like every single month.”

  He popped the meatballs into the oven and set the time, feeling thankful that Aunt Ellen’s recipes had idiot-proof instructions.

  “But Meow-Meow was a good mama. We fed her enough to keep her around and she kept the rats and the lizards at bay.”

  He started peeling garlic. Whether or not this garlic bread came out edible remained to be seen, but his aunt swore it was the best thing since…well, garlic bread.

  “We hid her from the commander. He didn’t like animals.”

  The kitten pounced again, sending the lure across the floor once more.

  “I can’t really trust people who don’t like animals.” He glanced over at the little fuzz ball.

  There was a weird normalcy to talking to the kitten. Maybe it was a sad commentary on his social life, but he was enjoying the quiet solitude of his parents’ house while he attempted to cook dinner for a woman who was worried about leaving her pregnant dog alone.

  His life had certainly taken an odd turn these days. Slowly, he was starting to feel less like a stranger in his own home.

  The kitten punted the lure and skidded after it, sliding beneath the couch. She wouldn’t be able to do that once she got bigger. Right now, she could still fit.

  His phone vibrated and lit up. He glanced over at the text message then looked again. It was Tills, a friend from the Army.

  Cam punched back an answer:

  What’s up?

  Tills’s reply was immediate.

  I’m having a hard time right now. Can you call?

  Cam frowned and dialed the number.

  “What’s up?”

  There was silence on the other end that got Cam’s attention immediately.

  “Dude,” Cam said. “You nervous about chatting with a simple civilian like me or something?” He laughed, trying to make things light.

  Silence. Cam’s throat tightened. “Talk to me. You’re starting to freak me out.”

  A shuddering sigh. “Did you hear about Boots?”

  Cam froze. The skittering noise of the toy rattletrap against the floor faded away. Every one of Cam’s senses zeroed in on the sound of Tills’s ragged breath.

  “Last I heard, he was up at Fort Lewis.”

  Please don’t tell me something bad. Please tell me he did something stupid, like marry a stripper.

  “He died, man. He died last month.”

  Cam felt like his body was suddenly very far away, like he was watching someone else move to the fridge and crack open a beer. He didn’t feel the cold slide down his throat.

  “What happened?”

  “Pills. You know how his leg was all fucked up from that shit in Kuwait?”

  Cam made a rough noise into his palm, trying to keep Tills from hearing. “Hence the name Boots.” Benningham had been his real name, but after he fell into a bunker and tore all the major tendons in his leg, he’d worn a boot around the operations center for six months in Iraq while his leg healed.

  Which apparently, it never had.

  “He’s not the kind of guy who’d off himself, man.” Cam’s voice felt like it was far away from his body.

  All the pain rushed back in that moment. The tightness in his chest. The inability to draw a full breath. The feeling of suffocating beneath a wave of hurt and guilt. Once again, he was consumed by rage for the stupidity of a useless goddamned war.

  The second beer went down easier than the first.

  “Oh, God, do you think they called him Boots at his memorial?”

  Tills choked off a horrified laugh, mixed with a strangled sob. “I hope they did.”

  Cam sat for a long time. He didn’t hear the timer for the meatballs. He even forgot the kitten.

  All the pain. All the loss. Everything he’d been trying to pretend hadn’t become a normal part of his life was back, reclaiming its piece of his soul.

  Dragging him back into the darkness that he’d done everything to pretend did not exist.

  The beer ran out at six, so Cam switched to tequila. It went down smoothly, blocking out the hurt.

  Numbing the feelings he couldn’t ignore.

  Chapter 16

  IT WAS THE unending beep of the timer that first clued her in that something might be off.

  But when Cam didn’t answer the door she knew something was wrong.

  She pushed it open and just like that, she was seventeen years old once again.

  And her father wasn’t answering her.

  She paused, assessing the scene, looking at the smoke from the kitchen. Cam was nowhere to be found.

  The kitten bolted from beneath the couch, chasing a fishing lure. Desperately hoping it didn’t have a hook in it, she marveled at the mundane moment in the haze of panic threatening to drown her.

  She killed the timer and rescued the meatballs from the oven. They were a little crispy but salvageable.

  Where the hell was Cam?

  The kitten scooted in front of her and she reached down, snagging the lure. No hook. Good.

  Then she scooped up the kitten, who swatted Hayley’s face with her soft kitten paws. “Where’s your daddy?” she asked.

  She noticed movement on the porch and set the kitten down, treading cautiously outside. As she stepped onto the old planks, the evening air wrapped around her like a cool cloak.

  Cam was sitting on the back steps. The sun had long ago slid below the trees, allowing the shadows to creep out. The final remnants of daylight were in full-blown retreat.

  He didn’t acknowledge her approach.

  She didn’t miss the bottle of tequila between his feet. Or his head, resting in one hand. His phone dangled loosely in the other.

  As she sat, relief mixed with raw fear and created a stone in the pit of her belly. She didn’t touch him, deliberately keeping her distance.

  He set the phone down and lifted the bottle to his lips, taking a long pull that would have put her under the table. It clinked against the wooden step as he set it back down. “I think I’m going to have to cancel dinner.” His words were slow, thick, and laced with pain.

  Memories wrestled with reality. She saw her father, sitting on the couch in the weeks before he died, with a beer in his hands instead of the bottle of tequila. The ragged look in Cam’s eyes made it seem as if she were looking into her dad’s.

  Her dad would never laugh again. He’d never be around to tease her about being too good for Cam Warren.

  He’d never tell her how proud he was of her.

  All because she’d left him alone on a night like this. A night when he was hurting and she hadn’t known what to do.

  In all the years since her father’s death, she’d always wondered if she could have done something different. Would sitting with him have helped? Could she have stopped his slide into dark memories?

  Cam lifted the bottle again, and before she could stop herself she reached out, halting its ascent.

  “I think maybe you shouldn’t be alone?” It was a hesitant question.

  Last night, he’d been a little tipsy. Warm and welcoming and sexy.

  Tonight was different. He wasn’t a little in the bag. He was flat-out blasted.

  She didn’t know how much he’d had, but judging by the bottle, it was probably a miracle that he was still functioning.

  He didn’t fight her when she slipped the alcohol from his hand.

  He made a noise and turned his forehead into his palm. “I’m not really fit company tonight. I didn’t mean to…end up like this. You don’t have to stay.”

  “Maybe you can come h
ome with me?”

  It was an eternity before he turned his head to look at her through squinted eyes. “I can’t leave Jinx alone.”

  “Jinx?”

  He offered a slow smile. “Kitty Soft Paws with the fishing lure obsession.”

  “Your new roommate?” She asked. “She can come, too.”

  “Won’t your pregnant dog eat her?”

  If there wasn’t such a bleak sadness looking back at her, she might have smiled at their conversation. “Lilly doesn’t have weird pregnancy cravings, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  She reached out then, slipping her hand into his.

  Finally he moved, his fingers slowly curling into hers.

  “I’d really like it if you’d come home with me.” A quiet plea, whispered and soft.

  Please don’t make me leave you.

  She didn’t want to beg, but she had no idea what she’d do if he asked her to leave him alone.

  She had no claim on this man. No right to demand that he stay with her. He didn’t have to allow her into his life.

  But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try.

  Maybe that made her weak. Maybe it made her a sucker for caring about a man who’d just waltzed back into her life like he’d never left.

  He was not her father. She couldn’t save her dad.

  As much as this moment tugged her into her dark past and opened old wounds, she couldn’t look away from the hurt in Cam’s eyes.

  She didn’t know what had happened to him.

  She might never know.

  But she was here now. With him.

  “Spend the night with me, Cam?” she whispered again, stroking her thumb over his. “Please?”

  He closed his eyes and leaned his head on her shoulders. “You should be pissed at me. I promised you dinner.”

  She reached up, cupping his face and resting her cheek against the top of his head. “I’ll take a rain check.”

  His hurt was a physical thing. Her lungs were tight in the echo of her response.

  “I’m usually a lot more fun.” His words were slowing, getting thicker.

  “Hey. Don’t fall asleep on me yet.”

  He made a sleepy noise.

  “Oh, Cam.” She pressed her lips to his forehead and squeezed her eyes tight, willing the burn behind them to cease.

  But the tears fell anyway.

  Chapter 17

  IT TURNED OUT Jinx was a pain in the ass about riding in cars. She had a thing about diving under seats and trying to operate the gas, but once she was set free in Hayley’s house—after being shown the makeshift litter box—she made herself comfortable.

  Lilly took an immediate liking to the kitten.

  And damn, Jinx was completely fearless. She walked right up to Lilly and stuck her paw up to her snout. It was an odd vision, seeing a full-grown yellow lab nose to nose with a mottled gray kitten.

  If Hayley’s heart wasn’t hurting, she would have taken a picture. It would have made a great ad for the clinic.

  Lilly nuzzled the kitten and rolled her over, licking her bottom vigorously. Jinx enjoyed the attention, her tiny pink-and-white paws flailing happily in the air.

  Cam leaned on the doorframe next to her. “Does your dog always adopt stray kittens?”

  Hayley smiled. “Seeing that this is the first stray kitten I’ve brought home since I got Lilly, I can’t say whether it’s her habit or not.”

  Cam was watching the animals closely, his brow furrowed in concentration.

  “Is her belly moving?” he asked.

  “Puppies tend to do that when they’re still in the womb.”

  “I wasn’t sure if it was the puppies or the alcohol. That’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  He pushed off the door, taking one step and swaying dangerously. Hayley slid beneath his arm and propped him up, staggering beneath his weight as she guided him to the couch.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled, slurring again. His voice wavered between sounding sober…or completely trashed.

  Just when she thought she’d managed to dodge a catastrophe, he tripped against the table and they tumbled onto the couch. Somehow she landed on top of him. He slipped his arms around her.

  It felt good. Despite the drinking and the sadness in his eyes—that scared her more than she’d admit—it felt good to lie there and pretend this was a normal embrace. She imagined she could lie there, her cheek pressed to his heartbeat, absorbing the warmth from his body, and simply be.

  It was such a simple fantasy. Such a quiet, needful thing that she’d craved more than anything as the years slipped by and her bed remained largely empty, her heart filled with other people’s pets.

  She had a good life. She had friends and family. Her work mattered in this small slice of the county that she called home. But this…this fantasy, was something she couldn’t pretend she didn’t crave.

  He shifted and his palm was flat on her back, stroking slowly beneath her shirt. A lazy slide of skin against skin.

  He pressed his lips to her head. “Thank you.” His voice was a ragged whisper.

  I’m a good listener, she wanted to say, but didn’t speak the words. She couldn’t. It would have been too close to begging him to open up and share his burden with her.

  “I don’t know if I can sleep tonight,” he said after the silence dragged on.

  His hand didn’t stop moving. It was almost as though he needed the contact more than she did.

  And she needed it. Terribly.

  “The alcohol won’t put you under?”

  He made a noise deep in his chest that told her everything. At least tonight, he would sleep. It wouldn’t be good sleep but he wouldn’t be awake, staring into the dark, his heart fractured and hurting.

  “I usually have to drink to fall asleep.” His voice was a low rumble beneath her ear.

  “When did that start?”

  They had spent the entire summer before he left for the Army together, sleeping curled up in the back of his pickup or sneaking into one of their bedrooms.

  “After my first deployment.” His voice was a murmur, just above a whisper. “I got wired on stress and adrenaline. Turns out, brains can get hooked on that shit.”

  “Did you ever talk to anyone about it?”

  He moved a little in what felt like a shrug. “Why bother? Talking about it doesn’t help anything. It only lets someone know you’re messed up.”

  She breathed out slowly. “I saw a counselor when I was in college.” It was a difficult admission. She’d never told her mom, her friends. No one. She wasn’t ashamed of it, but she didn’t want to be judged. She didn’t want anyone to give her that sympathetic look.

  “Did it help?” It was a simple, straightforward question. No judgment.

  Relief unfurled in her chest.

  “I think so. Dr. Malone helped me get a handle on the anxiety that was shutting me down my junior year.”

  His hand kept up the slow slide over her skin. “What were you anxious about?”

  She didn’t want to go down that particular divergence off Memory Lane, but he was asking and she had no reason to hide it.

  She wasn’t ashamed of the fact that life had kicked her down and for a brief period, she hadn’t been able to get back up.

  Still, she hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “A couple unhappy events and unhappy anniversaries piled on all at once.”

  The slide of his hand slowed, almost to a stop. He shifted, drawing her into the crease between his body and the back of her sofa. She lifted her head to glance at her dog and wasn’t the least bit surprised that the kitten was curled up between Lilly’s paws. The dog was panting but appeared to be okay.

  Hayley lowered her head to Cam’s shoulder, content that for once, they were each taking care of someone who needed them.

  Chapter 18

  A LOW WHINE pulled him from sleep. He frowned as he woke; he couldn’t remember where he was. Lying still, he took in the silence and the scents, zer
oing in on the warm mass pressed to his side.

  Hayley.

  The whine came again, drawing him away from the pleasant feeling of Hayley’s breath against his skin.

  He vaguely remembered coming with her to her house last night.

  He eased himself off the couch carefully, so as not to dislodge Hayley or the kitten he discovered nestled between his thighs.

  Apparently, the women in his life liked to cuddle.

  He managed to extract himself from the couch and glanced over at the source of the noise that had drawn him from sleep.

  Lilly was panting heavily.

  A small movement caught his eye. A tiny shape was starting to emerge near her tail.

  “Oh shit.”

  He leaned back and nudged Hayley awake. “Hey, looks like you’ve got puppies coming.”

  She was instantly awake and at Lilly’s side. She slid a basket filled with supplies and blankets out from beneath one of the side tables and grabbed a soft cloth, delivering the puppy and moving it close to Lilly’s head. “It’s okay, sweet girl,” she whispered. The dog immediately started cleaning the small pup, who was the size of the palm of Cam’s hand.

  Cam felt useless as he watched, listening to Hayley murmur soothing nothings to the whelping mother.

  “Here comes another one,” Cam said. “Do I need to do anything?”

  “Just watch and if the pup doesn’t come out on its own, you may need to pull gently.” Hayley glanced over her shoulder. “Can you grab that heating pad?”

  “Sure. This basket is super handy. All the puppy birthing supplies a girl could want.”

  Hayley grinned. “Well, we’ve done this a few times. Lilly’s a pro at it.” She nodded toward the dog with her chin. “Put the heating pad beneath this old towel, where the puppies are. A little extra warmth won’t hurt.”

  Another puppy came out and Cam handed it to Hayley, who let Lilly do her thing.

  “Looks like we’ve got a visitor,” Hayley said, motioning to the kitten, who sat perched on the fireplace above the fray.