True Horizon

by Laurie Winter

  “No, ma’am.” Heath turned in his seat to face her. “I was heading to Dallas, but I’ve changed my mind about staying in a big city.”

  She pondered the fact he had no set plan for his journey. Her thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the front door and the arrival of two blonde girls running into the family room.

  “Papa!” they both yelled in unison and jumped onto Bruce’s wide lap.

  Heath scooted over to make room for the squirming little girls.

  “How are my favorite twins?” Bruce gave them each a kiss on the cheek.

  “We’re great,” Kara said while her sister, Lizzy, nodded.

  As Alex and Jenny came into the room, Grace stood to give her brother and sister-in-law a hug. “Hey, girls,” Grace said to the twins. “Granny’s in the kitchen. Go see if she needs help.” The girls, who never missed an opportunity for fun with Granny, jumped off the sofa and made a beeline for the kitchen.

  Alex sat and crossed his ankle over his knee. “You’re asking for trouble, Grace. Mom hates being called Granny, and the last thing she wants is a pair of six-year-old tornados helping her prepare dinner.”

  “I know.” Grace rubbed her hands together. “That’s why it’s so much fun.”

  A surprised cry came from the rear of the house. Everyone in the family room laughed.

  “Heath, this is my son Alex and his lovely wife, Jenny.” The lines around Bruce’s mouth deepened with his smile. “Those two dolls now in the kitchen helping with dinner are their daughters, Kara and Lizzy. And this young man here is Heath Carter.”

  Alex reached over to shake Heath’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Heath.”

  Alex and Jenny cuddled up on the small loveseat placed under a large picture window.

  Through the window, Grace could see her favorite mare grazing in the field by the stable. The sun’s strong rays bounced off the stable’s tin roof. Another beautiful summer day in God’s country.

  Bruce stood. “Guess I should go change.” The stairs creaked as he made his way to the second floor.

  “So, Heath.” Alex leaned forward and rested his forearms on his lap. “I heard you and my sister took a little swim in the Hickory River yesterday.” He turned to Grace and winked.

  Oh no. Grace shot her older brother a look that could have halted a stampeding bull. But of course on Alex, her efforts were useless.

  “Thanks for jumping in after her.” He kept charging on with his story. “Funny thing, though, that’s not the first time she’s been saved from drowning.”

  “Alex.” The heat of embarrassment colored Grace’s cheeks. “Don’t go there.”

  He avoided Grace’s stare. “In high school, she got a cramp while swimming in the community pool. She needed the lifeguard to save her. No doubt, she planned the stunt to get the attention of her crush, Tyler Ross. That time, he tossed her a ring buoy. Ten years later, she managed to get an engagement ring from the guy.”

  “My leg really did cramp that day.” Grace’s cheeks grew even warmer. Why did her big brother love to tease?

  “See those pictures on the mantel?” Alex pointed at the row of framed pictures. “The one on the far left is Grace, freshman year. Tyler was my best friend, and she used to follow him around like a puppy dog, but he had little interest in that version of my sister.”

  If she would have had a cow pie handy, she would have launched it at Alex’s head. Now that would have shut him up. She knew from experience. Good grief. Grace had been home for a few days and already slipped back into the role of country girl. But to be honest, the thought of a good ol’ cow pie fight did make her giddy.

  “Stop teasing your sister, Alex, or you’ll sleep on the couch tonight.” Jenny gave her husband a pinch on the arm.

  Heath studied her high school picture, while Grace fought the urge to grab it, and then run and hide. The combination of braces and glasses, along with blotchy skin and a bad hair style, made her look like someone’s cruel joke. For years, she’d begged her mother to replace that picture, but her dad insisted it stay.

  Heath caught her gaze. “You were beautiful. Don’t ever feel otherwise.”

  “Where were you when I was sixteen?” Grace murmured.

  Alex, mouth hung slack, was struck silent, and looked from Heath to Grace, and then back to Heath.

  Soon, her mother appeared in the room, followed by Kara and Lizzy, who were cool, calm, and under control. “Supper is ready. Y’all, go wash your hands and get ready to eat.”

  Bruce came downstairs, dressed in clean clothes, and walked with Heath to the dining room. Jenny went with her daughters to the bathroom.

  Grabbing Grace’s arm, Alex pulled her back. “What’s up with him?” He pointed to Heath. “He’s a little odd, huh?”

  “No, he’s not odd. He has more going on than meets the eye.” She was so curious about his story. Where did he come from? What had brought him to Liberty Ridge? Why had he jumped into a cold river, and subsequently damaged his bike, to rescue a stranger?”

  “Pops took him into town today.” Alex tipped his head in Heath’s direction. “They must have stopped at the store to get him some new clothes. You can still see the store folds in his shirt.”

  She had noticed that but found it endearing rather than funny. Heath had made an effort to look nice for tonight. Tyler always looked polished and put together, but he showed extra attention to his appearance when negotiating business dealings. That’s when he pulled out the custom-tailored suit, highly polished leather shoes, and six-thousand-dollar watch. “I want Heath to feel welcome here. Okay?”

  Alex furrowed his light eyebrows, and a frown pulled down the corners of his mouth. “Do you think I was raised in a barn? Of course, I’ll make him feel welcome. He saved your life.”

  She laughed and tucked her hand into the crook of her brother’s arm. “We were both raised in a barn. Let’s go see if we remember our table manners.”

  ****

  Dinner tasted delicious, the best thing Heath had eaten in the past year and a half. The beef was tender and moist. The bread was freshly baked and still warm. And the apple pie that Grace brought to the table after dinner left him so full he could barely move. “The meal was wonderful, Mrs. Murray.”

  Joslyn’s smile beamed. “Thanks, Heath. I’m glad you could join us.”

  With the table cleared, the twins went off to play in another room. The adults lingered at the dining room table, recovering from overeating.

  Over dinner, Heath realized that in this family, the dining room was the heart of the home. Cream-and-blue-striped wallpaper covered the walls, and a long mahogany table anchored the room. Pictures, along with a painting of the ranch, filled the space. He could almost hear the whispers of the countless stories shared around the table.

  “Coffee anyone?” Grace stood to get the carafe on the sideboard. She poured the steaming liquid into white china cups before setting out the cream and sugar.

  No use in denying his growing attraction. His feelings were harmless enough, even if they strengthened by the minute. Every time he glanced her way, his pulse quickened, sending hot blood coursing through his veins. Grace was charming and pretty, but more than that, her heart was genuinely pure. Tomorrow, he would leave to continue on his journey. And soon she would be a married woman.

  The conversation flowed around the table, and Heath was content just to listen, only answering the occasional question thrown his way. Even though he was an outsider, they still made him feel like part of the family. That morning, when Bruce invited him to dinner, he’d first declined the offer. But he soon realized Bruce Murray would not take no for an answer. Now, he was glad Bruce had been so insistent.

  The last time he’d enjoyed a meal like this was with John and Julie Ellis. In his head, Heath saw their cozy home at Fort Bragg. He had been a frequent guest, stopping by regularly for a home-cooked meal. Julie, with her curly, red hair and caring heart, was a very good cook.

  Thoughts of his best friend tor
mented his already battered soul. They were his penance and reminded him of his failures, both professionally and personally. John would never eat another meal at home. John would never return to his wife and son. John would miss out on seeing his son grow up and become a man, strong and brave like his father.

  “What do you do for a living, Heath?” Joslyn asked.

  Heath’s dark thoughts were thankfully interrupted by her question. He unclenched his jaw and took a few deep breaths through his nose to help him relax. “My last job was on an oil rig, ma’am. Before that I worked construction.” He kept his answer as vague as possible. Even nice people judged him harshly once they realized he lived as a drifter. He’d been called many things—crazy, dangerous, deranged—but those words never stung, because he didn’t allow himself to care about the people saying them.

  “You revived Grace after you rescued her from the river,” Joslyn said. “Do you have any medical training?”

  He shifted in his seat and forced the words out of his mouth. “I served for twelve years in the Army, ma’am. Mostly as a medic.”

  Grace’s eyes widened. “You were in the Army? I would never have guessed.”

  Strands of panic tightened around Heath’s chest, causing him to strain for breath. He pushed back his chair. “Thank you for dinner, it was wonderful. I should be going.”

  As if on cue, the twins skipped into the dining room. One of them held a small box in her hand. “Papa, is it time to play?” She placed the box on the table.

  Bruce laughed and lifted the small, red box, waving it at Heath. “Sorry, young man, but you can’t leave just yet. We haven’t played SOLO.”

  He glanced around at the Murray family, all looking back at him with wide eyes and raised brows, and he returned to his seat. A quick card game, and then he’d leave. Even though Grace’s smile continually chipped away at his resolve.

  Since he’d never played SOLO before, the twins sat one on either side of him during the first round and fed him instructions. For the second game, he switched seats and was placed between Lizzy and Grace. After several rotations around the table, he noticed Grace held only two cards. Since she’d won the first game, his mission became preventing her from winning again.

  “Heath, it’s your turn.” Lizzy elbowed his side.

  He’d learned to tell the twins apart by the color of the ribbon tying their ponytails.

  “Draw Four.” He slapped down his card on top of the pile.

  Grace narrowed her eyes and picked four cards. “You will pay for that.”

  “Bring it on, sister.” He smiled, because luck was on his side. He had another Draw Four and a Skip card in his hand. The muscles in his cheeks actually hurt from overuse.

  “Nobody does that to Auntie Grace,” Lizzy whispered in his ear. “She hates to lose.”

  “She doesn’t scare me.” Heath sent Grace a challenging grin. “She’s going down.” His index finger pointed to the floor.

  Lizzy giggled and glanced at her cards.

  He noticed that Grace was intensely studying her cards, maybe working out a new strategy. What a surprise to learn under her sweet and innocent exterior lay a cutthroat card player. For his next turn, he used his Skip card.

  “That’s not fair.” Grace’s hand pounded the table. “He’s cheating.” She narrowed her eyes at the others around the table.

  The twins laughed. One of them gave Heath a high-five.

  Bruce laid down a card, leaving him with only three cards. “Seems to be working out well for me.”

  “Ugh.” She folded her arms. “You guys are a bunch of traitors.”

  Soon, Grace held ten cards, while Heath palmed his last card. She even tried to peek at his card in a last-ditch effort to cheat. The flushed glow of her cheeks looked hot to the touch. He fought the urge to reach over and trail a finger along her jaw line, stopping at her full bottom lip. The same lip that stuck out in an attractive pout.

  He pictured Grace wrapped in his arms, her head tipped back in ecstasy, as he ran passionate kisses down her neck and across her—Not the time, man. Not the place.

  Lizzy tapped his arm, shaking out the seductive image from his mind.

  “Your turn.” Her sing-song voice fluttered.

  When he placed his final card on the table, everyone cheered. Well, everyone except for Grace. Heath could almost see steam blowing out of her ears.

  “I think that’s enough SOLO for tonight.” Grace bit her lower lip and glanced over at Heath. A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. She collected the cards and put them back into the box. “You got lucky tonight, Carter. Next time, I won’t go so easy on you.”

  “Guess I’m looking at a rematch,” he said to Lizzy. His gaze followed Grace as she walked out of the room, her hips swaying under a loose black skirt.

  “You’re a brave man.” Alex reclined in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. “We usually just let her win. Easier that way.”

  Heath stood and shook hands with Bruce and Alex. “Then that’s my cue to leave.” He said goodbye and walked to the front door.

  “Are you leaving?” Grace materialized from the family room.

  Backlight spilled from the room and illuminated her dark hair. Heath forced himself to look at the engagement ring on her finger, which served as a visual reminder to his wavering heart. She was off limits. “I’m heading to the bunkhouse. Thanks for the friendly competition.”

  She set a hand on one hip. The other hand rested loosely at her side. “Okay, then…goodnight. See you tomorrow.”

  He longed to give her a goodnight kiss. Instead, he settled for a solitary night in his bunkhouse—and a cold shower.

  Chapter Five

  A strong wind forced back Heath, and he grabbed onto the rappelling rope to steady himself.

  “Thirty seconds to target.” A voice crackled through his earpiece.

  He was seated and strapped to a bench, which was secured to the outside of the chopper. Looking down past his dangling feet into the black abyss below, he ran the upcoming mission through his mind. The MH-6 Little Bird helicopter would hover over the target building, and the team would have a minute to fast rope to the roof. Next, they would secure the building and the surrounding courtyard. Taliban fighters would most likely be in the area, so they needed to be prepared. Their goal was simple—collect the target and get the hell out.

  Moments later, when his feet hit the roof, he unhooked the rope, got into a kneeling position, and then provided cover for the second chopper. The beat of rotating rudders drowned out all other sounds. The smell of rotting waste made bile rise in his throat.

  He entered the building through a hole in the roof. His heart pounded hard in his chest. As the team began sweeping and securing each room, the straps of his pack dug into his shoulders. He followed John down the hall, until John disappeared from view like he was swallowed whole by the dark mouth of the corridor. From outside, a series of loud blasts sounded. The monster had awakened and he was ready to play.

  Heath sprinted outside into the courtyard and saw bodies strewn across the ground. Approaching the nearest victim, he took off his pack and opened his medical supply bag. The soldier’s face was turned away. Blood poured out of his mangled leg.

  Around him sounded more screams and cries for help. He was surrounded by the dying and every time he refocused his vision, the victims multiplied.

  “Heath, help me!”

  Screams pierced his ears. He tasted smoke in the air, sour on his tongue. The coppery smell of blood filled his nose.

  “Heath!” John’s voice sliced through the chaos.

  He crawled across the ground and found John slumped over with his back resting against the wall. Blood flowed from his mouth.

  Bile rose in Heath’s throat. I won’t let you die on my watch.

  “Leave! Get out of here now. Run!” John yelled, spitting blood.

  Heath bolted upright in bed with a scream dying on his lips. Sweat dripped from his body, which hummed
with delayed terror. After several deep breaths, he remembered where he was. Reality took hold. His body trembled, burning off the remaining adrenaline. Very slowly, his vision cleared.

  Silver moonlight shone through the bedroom window, highlighting the bed. The sheets and blanket lay in a heap on the floor.

  Every night, the same nightmare visited him, and each time, he woke up screaming. He never saved any of the soldiers who’d called out for help. Too much blood. Too much death. John’s grimacing face was always the last image he saw. A reflection of anguish burned into his mind. His best friend who’d never returned home from Afghanistan alive.

  Not wanting to slip back into the torment of sleep, he paced the cool floor of the small bunkhouse until the sun started its ascent over the field. The beautiful sunrise ignited a fire, which chased away the long, dark shadows. The golden light lifted his mood.

  After a quick shower, he poured a bowl of cereal from the sparsely stocked kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee. He took his breakfast and sat out on the small front porch of the bunkhouse.

  The screen door of the main house creaked, and he looked across the long stretch of lawn to see Grace step outside. She held her laptop in one hand and a large mug in the other. Taking a seat on one of the many rocking chairs that decorated the porch, she placed her mug on a side table and flipped open her laptop. Every once in a while, she’d take a break from typing to grab her mug, take a drink, and then set it down without looking.

  He watched as she slid a rubber band from her wrist and drew her long hair into a ponytail. She was effortlessly beautiful, in white cut-off shorts and a red tank top. Her bare feet were propped on the porch railing. The large, white farmhouse surrounded her in a loving embrace. The Murray home was an old, rambling house, which looked like it had been added onto over the years. A wooden deck and multiple flower gardens filled the back yard. He wondered how many generations had called it home.

  Home—a concept lost to him over the years. Aunt Linda had given him a loving home when he was younger, to make up for the fact that both his parents were complete failures. With a dad in prison and a mom who’d died from an overdose, he felt a deep gratitude for his aunt. His rebellious adolescence had forced the only person who’d ever shown him love to give an ultimatum—join the military or end up in jail, just like your dad.