Tempted by the Soldier

by Patricia Potter

  “You have a way with dogs,” she suggested.

  “One dog,” he corrected.

  “Sherry and Stryker like you, too, the traitors.”

  “Because they didn’t bite me? Maybe I’m just not tasty.”

  “Can’t be that. You’re very tasty.”

  “Why thank you, ma’am. I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me.”

  “Back to a future,” she said. “You seem to have a knack for computers and teaching.”

  “Nearly anyone can teach someone to turn on a computer,” he said.

  “Not so they want to open a computer. Of course, teaching seniors in a community center doesn’t pay much.”

  “I understand it doesn’t pay at all,” he joked. “But then if I cared about money, I wouldn’t have joined the army.”

  “There is that,” she said. Why was it she felt so comfortable with him?

  She had told him more than she’d told anyone else. Why did she instinctively trust him?

  “What do you care about?” she asked.

  “You. And I’m becoming rather fond of Covenant Falls, too. It has a unique personality.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “I was born in Chicago.”

  “And raised there?”

  “Kinda. I attended boarding schools.”

  She looked at him, sensing there was much more behind those words. Would he tell her? A few seconds passed.

  “Okay,” she said simply.

  Clint’s eyes found hers and he touched her cheek, then he sighed. She knew her acceptance had shattered his defenses.

  “My mother died of cancer when I was seven,” he said in a low, intense voice. “My father owned an investment firm in Chicago and was on the board of a half dozen companies. He was never home, and when he was, he didn’t want to be bothered with children, meaning me.

  “On the other hand, my mother was great, and she tried to make up for his absence. When she died, he hired a nanny for me and was gone even more.”

  Stephanie snuggled in his arms. “I’m so sorry,” she said.

  “Four months after my mother died, my father married a client who I’m pretty sure had been having an affair with my father before Mom died. Even at eight, I knew that something was off, and I wasn’t very welcoming to say the least. She disliked me immediately and intensely, probably because of my own attitude, but I was a grieving eight-year-old,” he said. “She quickly became pregnant, had a son and saw me as a threat to her own child. Not physically, but as a competitor for my father’s wealth. I was the firstborn, after all.”

  Stephanie kissed him. “I hurt for that eight-year-old boy.”

  Clint shrugged. “He grew up. Nora, my stepmother, convinced my father to send me to a boarding school where I would learn some ‘discipline.’ I was thrown out of there before landing in the last one. It was a military school, and I had a great instructor who got me interested me in flying. When I was sixteen, I joined the Civil Air Patrol and learned to fly, but what I really loved was helicopters. The instructor, a former pilot himself, told me about a special army program that accepted qualified high school graduates for helicopter training. I knew I had to have really good grades to qualify. I worked my ass off and graduated near the top of my class.”

  “Did you go home summers while at school?”

  “I never went home again, although my father visited several times a year. Stilted, duty calls. I stayed at the school during the holidays and summer vacations while my father and his new family went on skiing vacations and saw the world. After the first four years, I no longer cared, or told myself I didn’t. Like you, I decided to make my own way. When I graduated high school, my father offered a college education if I majored in business. I said no. I didn’t want anything from him then and I haven’t seen him since.”

  “And when you were injured?”

  “I asked that he not be notified. I doubt he would give a damn anyway.”

  “And your brother?”

  “Half brother,” he corrected.

  “Your half brother then?”

  He shook his head. “I haven’t seen him since I joined the army. We barely knew each other.” He tensed. “And I wasn’t wounded in battle. At least not the injury that put me out of the service.” He played with her hand that was still in his, rubbing his thumb against her skin. “I was on leave. I’d restored a Corvette and wanted to try it out before leaving on a new deployment. A buddy told me about a long empty stretch of road between two ghost towns, or almost ghost towns. Never any traffic, he said. I was reaching ninety miles an hour when an old truck turned out of a dirt road. I swerved to miss it and my car turned over. The bar probably saved me, kept me from being thrown out, but my head slammed against the side of the window.

  “I woke up about two weeks later. I’d been in an induced coma because of swelling on my brain. I had other injuries, but they were all relatively minor. My problem was continuing headaches and blackouts. I learned then the brain is still a mystery. The doctors couldn’t find the cause. Could be a brain bruise. Another said it was an insult to the brain. Could go away tomorrow or six months or six years. I was medically discharged because of it.”

  “And you miss flying?”

  “Every day. I wake up and I’m not where I’m supposed to be. I’m not there to help out my buddies or the soldiers that rely on us. I felt, still feel, like I let them down. I was the ‘old man’ in the group, the most experienced.” He ran his fingers through her hair, then continued, “It’s always hard to explain to nonmilitary people. It’s not that we want to go to war. Or like it. But the camaraderie built in places like Iraq and Afghanistan is strong. It’s an incredibly close bond. You live, eat, play and fight together. We’ve shared fear, even terror, and saved each other’s bacon more than once.”

  “You lost two families,” she said. “Three if you count the marriage.”

  “I don’t,” he said.

  “You can have a new one in Covenant Falls. You already do. Bart. Josh. Eve. Nate and the other veterans.”

  “But no job. I can’t keep living off Josh.”

  “I think he believes you’re earning your keep.”

  “Hell, everyone and his brother is helping with the dock.”

  “But not helping people with computers. That was one of Eve’s pet projects, one of the reasons for the community center.”

  “There has to be others who can do better. Surely there are teachers at the school...”

  “Eve tried. But there’s a shortage of qualified volunteers. The biggest obstacle had been a reluctance among our seniors to learn from someone they knew well. For some odd reason, they connect with you. They like you. You don’t make them feel stupid because they haven’t learned on their own.”

  “No one learns on their own.”

  “They don’t know that. To them, everyone knows how but them. It makes them feel lacking.” She tickled his bare chest. “Are you ticklish?” she said.

  He chuckled. “No.”

  She licked his chest.

  “Well, maybe,” he admitted.

  She traced the scars on his chest. “Were these from the accident?”

  “No, my chopper was hit by gunfire. We crashed.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “Another chopper picked me up.”

  “Any other injuries?

  He winked. “Just a cow stomp.”

  “It’s not nice to remind me.”

  “It was worth it. It broke the ice. Kinda.”

  “I did feel bad about it.”

  “I couldn’t tell.”

  “I didn’t mean for you to. I knew you were dangerous to my world the minute I saw you.”

  He played with one of her curls. “Do you stil
l feel that way?”

  “Oh, yes. Definitely. Quite assuredly.”

  “Do you have to be so indecisive?” he asked before he leaned over and kissed her.

  * * *

  SHE TASTED SO damn good. She felt even better. Her eyes sparkled with life. They had always been breathtakingly blue, but they’d been cautious. Tonight there was no caution.

  Her fingers touched his face, exploring its planes and he caught her hand. He brought it to his mouth and kissed it. He liked her hands. Long, strong and callous, but he also knew how gentle they could be.

  He stroked her face, then her neck as their bodies came together again, his body fitting her long lean one as if she was made for him. Then he kissed her with a fierceness that was equaled by hers. His mouth touched her breast, teasing and inciting and her body trembled beneath his.

  He rose above her, his body teasing hers until she arched upward to meet him. She was ready this time. Ready and eager and ever so responsive. Her arms went around him, pulling him closer, her need clearly as great as his own. He entered slowly, tantalizingly slow, although it took every bit of his willpower. She cried out and wrapped her legs around him, drawing him in deeper.

  Her body moved in concert with his in a sensuous dance that gave him a pleasure he’d never experienced before. His tempo increased and then there was an explosion of sensations. He fell on her and they rolled over to lie side by side. Neither said anything, but he took her hand in his and clutched it tightly.

  He wanted to say something, but he had no words. He could make no promises. He knew she didn’t want any. He could only let her know that this had been extraordinary. He’d never felt like this before. He thought he never would again...with another woman.

  The timing was all wrong. He had barely anything to offer. But at this moment, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the warm intimacy that wrapped around them.

  “Come take a shower with me,” he said.

  She nodded. She took his hand and stood.

  He opened the door and Sherry and Bart looked at them with reproach.

  “I think they disapprove,” she said.

  “Only because they weren’t invited inside,” he replied and led her to the shower.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THERE WERE TWO calls on her office phone when Stephanie reached home. She was mellow. Sated and happy. Really happy. She took Lulu and Stryker outside. This would be Lulu’s final night with her. She’d had the last of her shots and tests and she would be going home to Eve and Nick tomorrow.

  It was late—nearly midnight—when she checked the messages. One was from the number Mark had used to call her. The second wasn’t familiar. She listened to that one first.

  “Hi, it’s David Matthews. I’m calling on a private cell outside the office. Sorry to bother you on Saturday night, but call me when you can. Townsend is on a rampage. He stormed into my office and demanded to know why we were in contact with you. He called you every name in the book. Happily my voice recorder was on. Maybe some people won’t think he’s a saint once they hear it. But I have to warn you. I think he’s dangerous.”

  That was the end of the message. She would call him first thing in the morning. Then, bracing herself, she listened to the other message. “It’s not a good idea to get involved in something that’s not your business.” Then an abrupt hang up. The tone was icy cold, and she knew it well. Although not a direct threat, she knew him well enough to know it was a real one. She saved both messages.

  She poured a glass of wine. She’d just gone from the sublime to the pits. She didn’t want to deal with Mark again, but she wasn’t going to sit back and let him do to Susan what he had done to her. Tomorrow—no, today—was Sunday. No appointments.

  She had a few questions she wanted to ask David. And a few suggestions, too. After their call, she would ride Shadow. Riding always cleared her head, and her head really needed a good clearing right now.

  Clint said he would like to ride.

  Tempting. Everything about him was tempting. His smile. His humor. His gentleness. More important, he understood her. Not many people did. Eve, yes. Josh, yes. A few others. And it was her fault. She’d allowed only a few people to get close to her. She’d been wary. Part of it was her distrust of people, another part was what she considered her own bad judgment.

  Her father had limited her friends when she had been young. After her marriage to Rick, she did nothing but study and work for more than nine years, then she worked long hours at her practice. In her final stupidity, she had married Mark who had done everything he could to limit her relationships. Other than a few friends in vet school, she’d never had time to develop friendships or circles of friends. She’d always trusted animals more.

  In the past five years, Eve had pushed her kicking and screaming all the way into the community life, challenging her into the search-and-rescue program. The volunteer fire fighting had been her own idea. But she suspected Eve had a lot to do with pushing Clint in her direction.

  “Okay, dogs,” she said. “Time for bed.” Sherry and Stryker dashed for the bedroom, Lulu following behind. Stephanie slipped into a large T-shirt and climbed into bed. Sherry jumped up beside her. Stryker was happy in his dog bed. Right now, Lulu was sharing it.

  She closed her eyes, hoping her sleep would be filled with Clint and not with Mark.

  * * *

  CLINT ROSE EARLY Sunday morning. He took coffee up the mountain path and watched the sunrise. Bart was at his side.

  It was a glorious morning in more ways than one. No headache, and he felt hopeful and alive for the first time since the accident. He and Stephanie had not exchanged promises. It was far too early. They both were wary of commitments, Stephanie far more than he.

  But he could wait. Take it slowly. It meant finding a job in town. No easy task, from what he understood. Nate had mentioned what a problem he’d had to make a living in Covenant Falls before he and Josh decided to partner. Even then, it had been Josh who had the starting capital.

  But nothing could dim this morning. They might not have talked of love, but he knew he was in love, and she was reluctantly leaning in that direction. She’d looked beautiful last night with her face flushed and her eyes sparkling with lovemaking.

  Would he see her today? He knew Eve, Josh and Nick went to church, but he didn’t know about Stephanie. Should he call her? He was like a schoolboy hungering after the prettiest girl in class. Just as uncertain as to how to proceed.

  He looked down at the town below him. A pretty town. Four church steeples punctuated the neat streets and rows of houses. He thought most of them would be filled today. Covenant Falls was a church-going town. How would he fit in? He’d been a warrior.

  But there were other warriors here. Brothers. And he loved the mountains behind him. He would like to spend time in them.

  Clint started the trek down the mountain. He would grab something to eat and start work on the dock. The cement should be hard enough to lay the framing timber. It would keep his mind off Stephanie. Or not.

  He was making more coffee and frying a couple of eggs when the phone rang. He recognized the number and his heart cartwheeled. He clicked the answer button. “Hi,” he said for lack of a better reply.

  “Hi,” Stephanie replied. “I received two phone calls. One from the attorney who was here with Mark’s wife, and the other from Mark. I would like you to listen to them.”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  “And Clint, I’m going riding today. You said you would like to learn. Want to go with me?”

  Hell, yes, even if I fall off the horse. “Sure,” he said instead. “Sounds good.” I hope. “I can walk over there.” The dock could wait.

  “I have some eggs if you’ll fix another omelet.”

  “I’ll be delighted.”

&nb
sp; “Wear a long-sleeve shirt, the heaviest pair of jeans you have and sturdy shoes. There might be branches.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  A pause, then she said, “Did I sound that authoritative?”

  “In a very sexy way,” he said.

  A silence. “Is that good?”

  “Everything about you is good.”

  “I’ll expect you in, what, twenty minutes?”

  “That sounds reasonable. Can I bring Bart?”

  “Of course. He’s always been my favorite of Eve’s dogs. She found him on a road half-dead. Someone just dumped him. Probably dogfight organizers. He wasn’t any use to them anymore.”

  “I guessed at something like that because of the scars.”

  “I’m glad you have him,” Stephanie said. “He needed more attention than he could get with all the other animals at Eve’s. Nick understood that, too. I’ll have coffee ready.” The phone clicked off.

  He gathered a few spices. “Come on, Bart,” he said. “We’re going to see Stephanie.” The dog wagged his rear end. Clint leaned down and rubbed his ears. Sadness flooded him as he thought of how the dog had suffered, and yet had so much love to give. “I’m going to take very good care of you,” he promised. “No one is going to hurt you again. Ever.”

  He and Bart reached Stephanie’s office eighteen minutes later. He tried the door. It was open. He went to the counter and rang the bell.

  She came out wearing riding clothes: the same worn riding pants she had on the night of their first kiss, boots and a long-sleeve blue plaid shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a long braid, but curls escaped and framed her face.

  He held out his arms and she came into them. He held her for a minute. She felt so incredibly good there, as if she belonged next to him.

  She broke away first. “I want you to hear the messages.”

  She reached for a phone on the counter, picked it up and clicked the message button.

  He took the phone, listened to the attorney’s voice. Then she clicked it again. Clint could barely keep his anger under control at the sound of her ex-husband’s voice.