Jane's Long March Home

by Susan Lute

  What reason could she give for not taking on the assignment Russell was so eager to give. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She was interrupted by the sound of a vehicle coming down the drive.

  In the dark, headlights bobbed. A road-weary Dodge truck parked next to her Jeep. Then, Sergeant Scott Boone unfolded his tall, lanky length from the rig.

  Russell pushed away from the porch rail. “Do you know him?”

  “Yes.” She moved to the bottom step and waited.

  “Gunny,” Boone greeted her, as serious as a lead pipe in the hands of a skilled fighter. His gaze flicked to Russell for a brief second, then zeroed in on her.

  “What are you doing here, Sergeant?”

  “You’re off the grid. The guys got worried. We decided someone had to come find you. I drew the short straw.”

  Jane folded her arms across her chest. The guys were her Friday night poker buddies in Madrid. Embarrassment flooded her. She’d shut them out. Disconnected entirely.

  “How did you find me?”

  “Your CO.”

  Jane’s self-imposed isolation unraveled a bit at the thought of Boone going out of his way to hunt her down.

  Russell shifted beside her, and she couldn’t help but compare the two men. The Doc won hands down.

  They were similar in many ways, height, good looks, but Boone’s military bearing had nothing on Russell’s honed physique. And, over late night beers, she’d discovered long ago, the Sergeant wasn’t the settling down type. Hell, none of them were.

  Russell on the other hand had responsible written all over his fine form. That was her problem. It was like putting nectar under the beak of a migrating humming bird.

  “Sergeant Scott Boone, this is Dr. Chase Russell.” She wasn’t ready to go into the details of her situation with Russell. “He owns this ranch.”

  The men eyed each other warily.

  Jane stepped between them. “How long can you stay?”

  “A few hours. I have to report in by eighteen-hundred tomorrow.”

  A stab of jealousy attacked her. While she was stuck here, Boone was heading to a new assignment. “How about some coffee?”

  “That would be great.”

  In the kitchen, Russell waved her off. “I’ll get the coffee. You go visit.”

  She flashed him a smile, then settled at the table across from the Sergeant. Boone lounged comfortably in the chair, his elbow hitched over the back rail. He studied her with a deceptively casual look. “What are you doing here?”

  Her gaze darted to Russell. He cocked his head sideways, waiting to see what she was going to tell her buddy.

  The long, awkward silence stretched out. What was she supposed to say? I’m a nut case, so I’ve been marooned here until I get better?

  Boone caught on without words, and quickly picked up the slack. The sympathy in his too knowing eyes made Jane want to strike out. Good thing she was past that kind of behavior, she sneered.

  “So, Friday night poker isn’t the same without you. Bear’s been on a roll. Can’t beat the dude.”

  Russell put steaming cups in front of them, then retreated to the other side of the island that separated the kitchen from the dining area. He leaned against the counter, his own cup in hand. Jane followed his movements before jerking her attention back to Boone.

  “How?” She swallowed at the amusement in her buddy’s eyes. She wanted to deny any perceived attraction to Russell, but she knew Boone, the player, wouldn’t believe it. She cleared her throat. “How are Bear and Lacey doing? Any more incidences after-”

  Boone shook his head. “No. It’s been quiet since you left. Took awhile to get things cleaned up, but we’ve kept security tight, and the dust has settled.”

  Jane divorced herself from her role in the bombing; let the warm memories of being with her comrades roll over her. The conversation shifted to safer ground.

  Three hours passed too quickly. Through it all, Russell hung out in the background. She was oddly comforted by his presence.

  Before she knew it, Boone was climbing back into his rig. He hesitated before strapping himself in. “Stop blaming yourself for what happened, Gunny. And, don’t stay out here too long. Lacey said to tell you she hasn’t had a decent game since you left. She wants to plan a weekend in Vegas as soon as she and Bear get stateside.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  He gave her his charmer's smile, the one he used on all potential girlfriends, but it did nothing more for Jane than make her think of the man in the house whose grin was a killer.

  Pulling the door closed, he tossed her a jaunty two-fingered salute. “Stay in touch.”

  “Will do.” For the first time, she meant it.

  During Boone’s short stay, he’d reminded her she wasn’t as lost as she thought. She had good friends who weren’t blaming her for what happened.

  As the silence of the night closed around her, the constant anxiety she’d been carrying for so long eased just a little.

  *

  Over the next couple of days, Chase made sure he had no opportunity to be alone with the enticing Marine. It was an easy task since it seemed she’d didn’t want to be alone with him either.

  He couldn’t explain it. He’d wanted to kiss her. Despite his better judgment. And, to heck with the rules. If it hadn’t been for the arrival of her fellow Marine, he just might have given into the overwhelming desire to drag her close; take in her sweet scent; explore the soft skin right where her elegant neck met her shoulder.

  Lucky for them both, they’d been interrupted. He’d watched her with Sergeant Boone, and gotten a glimpse of what her life in the Marine Corps must have been like. She might have cut off all contact with those she’d served with in Spain, but contrary to what she thought, the woman wasn’t friendless. Scott, Lacey and the one called Bear, they all cared about her and were anxious to have her back.

  She’d visibly relaxed in Scott’s company, in a way he’d never gotten her to do. The green-eyed monster twisted into something dark in Chase’s gut, until he remembered there had been no physical contact between Jane and the other Marine. Not even when it was time for Boone to leave.

  Determined to get back to work, he threw on some workout clothes, then searched for the woman until he found her at the punching bag. No surprise there. He pulled on gloves and joined her.

  Hands dropping to her sides, she took a few dancing steps, her limp barely noticeable. Her heaving chest mocked his resolve to hang onto a measure of reasonable professional conduct. Sweat glistened on her tanned skin. Corn-silk hair stuck up in sexy matted spikes. Hastily, he promised himself he would not give into the attraction battering him like boiling rapids during a white water rafting trip on the nearby Deschutes River.

  “I want to try something new.”

  “Okay.” She eyed him suspiciously. He couldn’t blame her.

  “It’s called recreational therapy. A camping trip. You. Me. The boys.”

  As Jane considered his plan, she joined him in a punishing attach on the punching bag. Amidst the thud of their gloves against the swaying bag, they settled into a steady rhythm that had him admiring her grace under fire, and her complete devotion to the task at hand.

  “I know what you’re up to.” The pull of her brows together didn’t disguise the fragile vulnerability she was usually extremely good at hiding.

  That peek beyond her staunch defenses had him wishing he could hold her, offer comfort, without worrying about what kind of therapist that would make him. Which led to wondering what it would be like to have her looking at him with a lusty ambush on her mind.

  “What am I up to?”

  “You think by forcing me to spend time with the boys, it’ll initiate a major breakthrough. You’re hoping it will help me understand what I did wrong in Madrid.” She said that without a lick of emotion, as if she were an outside observer looking in, without the slightest internal attachment to the riotous feelings that had to be swirling in her chest. />
  “According to the report I read, you didn’t do anything wrong in Madrid.”

  Putting her whole weight behind the next jab, she snorted, making him almost miss his next punch. “How do you know?”

  “Know what?”

  “That I didn’t lie for the report. That I didn’t make a huge mistake that cost a kid his life.”

  He raised his brows. “Did you lie?”

  She paused for a moment before giving the bag another bone shattering hit. “No.”

  Having one chance to get this right, Chase leaned around the bag so he could capture her angry gaze. “You’re headstrong, arrogant, and stubborn.”

  Her chin hitched up. “Gee, thanks.”

  Behind the polite mask she wore as though hardly interested, he could see the vortex of unchained emotions churning in her beautiful eyes.

  “You’re also compassionate, courageous and dedicated. You love the Corps. You’d never do anything to jeopardize your standing there.”

  “What if I didn’t know what I was doing?” The question was a whisper. She wanted to believe him. He could see it in the desperate, still way she held herself.

  His vow to stay professional slipped a notch.

  “You knew what you were doing. You were leading with your heart, giving aid to a homeless kid.”

  She began to pull off her gloves. “Which was my first mistake, and brings us right back to where we started. It was my fault Linus got killed.”

  “No, it doesn’t. Sometimes bad things just happen.”

  Pressing her lips together, she dropped the gloves to the ground, lobbed a jerky nod in his direction. With her back ramrod straight, she stalked toward the barn.

  Okay then, clearly this session is over.

  Chase gave the bag a hard jab that reverberated up his arm.

  Patience Russell. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

  CHAPTER

  VIII

  Jane twisted the last bolt tight. After her session with Russell that morning, she’d come to the barn and deliberately put it all out of her mind.

  A large part of her wanted to understand what had gone wrong in Madrid. Another, just as demanding part, was plain tired of herself, and exhausted from rumbling over the same old ground.

  Just once, she’d like to be a normal person who wasn’t falling apart. Your average twenty-something, taking a well-deserved vacation. For the first time in her life, she wanted to be one of those silly women who had nothing better to do than pursue a ridiculous, scintillating crush on her therapist.

  Only she’d never been normal. Thinking she could start now was a hysterically bad joke.

  Russell believed she had all this courage and dedication - two things she’d be lucky to have when she went back to on duty. She wished she could prove his belief in her was warranted. But how?

  The only way she knew was to do everything he asked of her, no matter how childish and irrelevant it seemed. She had nothing to loose, and everything to gain by playing this campaign his way.

  But what if all her hard work didn’t make a lick of difference? What if after putting her trust in him, he couldn’t fix her and she had to return to base with her tail between her legs, her re-enlistment denied despite all her efforts?

  Jane swept the disabling doubt from her mind. She refused to march down that road.

  “Don’t touch anything, guys. I’ll be right back. I have some spare oil in my rig.” She wiped the grime off her hands, using a rag she’d found in the tack room, then tossed it to Pete, who squatted in the straw by the rear wheel of the motorcycle. Bobby, hands poked in his pants’ pockets, leaned against a nearby wall.

  Jane kept the oil on hand for the Indian motorcycle she’d left back at the base. She’d acquired it second hand, and over many months, lovingly rebuilt the engine.

  She missed being able to ride; hadn’t been able to since her injury. That was about to change.

  Stepping out of the barn into bright sunlight, by instinct alone, she just missed running straight into the man taking over her life.

  “Lunch is ready. How’s it going out here?” The gruff concern in his voice scuttled her thin control.

  “We’re about to crank her over. Just getting oil from my Jeep.” She clamped her tongue between her teeth to stop babbling. He did that to her. Made her lose track of why she was here.

  When she returned with the oil, he followed her, a little too closely for comfort, into the barn. “Show me.”

  Her steps slowed. Bobby was crouched beside his brother. Both had their backs to her.

  Someday, Bobby whoever-he-was, would grow into a handsome man. His love and protectiveness for his little brother would draw the girls like bees to honey. Jane wondered if things would have turned out different for her if she’d had a big bother to worry over her.

  Pete scrubbed his hands on the rag she’d tossed him earlier.

  Bobby watched indulgently, then shook his head. “You’re such a girl, Abby.”

  Pete shot a look at Bobby. “You said we’re not supposed to say.”

  Jane pulled Chase quickly into the nearest stall. When Bobby glanced over his shoulder, he didn’t see them. “That’s right, but there’s no one around.”

  Stunned by the secret the kids had hid so well, she glanced at Russell, got caught up in the self-mockery shifting across his face, and started to fall.

  “This is an unexpected development,” she managed to whisper around the firecrackers going off in her chest, and meaning the way the counselor was taking over her senses, not that one little boy had turned out to be a girl.

  Strong hands found her waist, massaging surprisingly greedy flesh.

  Stand down, Gunny. Instead, inside her belly something very feminine stood at attention, taking notice.

  “It sure is.” Russell’s voice was deep, jagged like the Rocky Mountains she’d driven through to get to the ranch.

  She groaned, not knowing which sucked more. Finding out one of the boys was a girl and she hadn’t noticed? Or, discovering that no matter how much she tried not to be, she could no longer deny she was taking more than a passing, flirty interest in her therapist.

  God, the man should wear a sign. Danger Jane, danger.

  If she really had the courage Russell claimed she did, she’d tell him right then and there what he did to her equilibrium, and what, if given half a chance, she wanted to do about it. But, she lost the opportunity when he released her and moved them out of the stall.

  It was crazy thinking anyway. All she had to do was hold it together long enough for him to clear her to go home. Once she got back to base, she’d dive back into her life, maybe go on a date or two, and forget all about the handsome, sexy Doc resurrecting ideas she’d given up a long time ago.

  Taking a fortifying breath, she held up the container she’d retrieved from her Jeep. “Okay, I’ll add the oil, then we can start this puppy up.”

  Bobby stood and greeted her pronouncement with a hesitant smile. Her heart jerked. If she were at the base right now, on a Tuesday morning she’d be doing paperwork at her desk, or meeting with staff. Maybe exercising the hitch out of her hip at the gym. She wouldn’t, all of a sudden, be wondering what it would be like to be part of a family that included two brave kids and one seductive man.

  Uncapping the oil container, she poured some of the thick, black fluid into the corresponding opening. Sorting out her priorities would be smart, but she couldn't get past the discovery that Pete was a girl. Little more than a baby, who had only her teenage brother to protect her from a world that could be really bad.

  Where the hell were her parents?

  Did she have a mother who was worried sick about where her daughter was?

  Linus’ face crowded into the mix. The orphaned street urchin had reminded her too much of herself and she hadn’t been able to turn her back on him. Now, here were these two kids, just as alone in the world, except for her and Russell.

  Jane swore under her breath.

  Pete,
or rather Abby, jumped up with an excited hop. “Can I go for a ride?”

  She told herself, this wasn’t Madrid. She hadn’t befriended a motherless kid who would later strike at the only family she had. And, she wasn’t at the orphanage anymore, in charge of kids who, as soon as she got used to having them around, found families of their own in adoption or permanent foster care.

  It didn’t help. A loathsome, familiar slide into panic crept in on her. She sucked in a breath to catch it before it caught hold, but the edges of her vision began to turn dark.

  The Colonel was right. She had lost her edge.

  “Please, can I go first? Can I?”

  The girl's sweet voice pierced the fog engulfing Jane. She locked her jaw in a futile attempt to slow her tumble. She had to get out. Fast. Before she made a fool of herself by losing it in front of these strangers she’d somehow come to care about.

  “Please?”

  “Not this time. I have to take the bike for a test drive before you go for a ride.”

  Abby’s shoulders slumped in disappointment.

  Hands shaking, Jane jammed one of the helmets she’d cleaned up, then hung from the handlebars, on her head. The other she tossed blindly to the ground.

  Breathing becoming impossible in the confines of the barn, she pushed the heavy bike out into the open and quickly climbed aboard. Gripping the handlebars until her knuckles ached, she focused on one thing and one thing only. Getting away before the panic won.

  Russell, carrying the helmet she’d thrown down, slipped onto the Harley behind her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Going with you.” He strapped on the helmet.

  “The kids-”

  ”Will be fine with Gus.”

  On the edge of her numbed vision, she saw the old man leaning against the corral, one foot perched on the lower rail.

  “Suit yourself.” She gunned the gas; had the satisfaction of feeling the front tire come off the ground.

  Dirt spewed behind them in a cloud of dust. Instead of sliding off and landing on his hot butt, Russell pressed into her back, holding on, fingers digging into her hips.

  The warmth from his body only flamed the panic closing in.