Her First Knight - The Beginning: Storm Lake (Under-Cover Knights Book 2)

by Livia Quinn

  With the passage of H.R. 6159 the new consortium group known as MiliCare will ease some of the financial stress on the VA’s already imploding budgetary problems and provide medical care, goods and services to a growing population of armed forces personnel covered by the VA.

  Ridge Romano is the architect of the proposal. He said, “Loss of limb, PTSD and Traumatic Brain Injury have increased dramatically in recent wars. Many servicemen and women are finding themselves without private insurance—and with government funds slashed repeatedly—disappointed to find the government doesn’t reimburse or expense for all their care and equipment, and not with the most advanced care supplied by independent firms such as Medtronics and CALmed.

  Add to this, postponed appointments, mountains of paperwork, lag times in diagnosis and treatment, and veterans face an enormous challenge overcoming the trauma and injuries of their service just to regain their health, a ‘normal life’, and a chance at happiness. They should not have to fight for their rightful treatment when they are fighting for their health and their very lives.”

  Cathy said. “That reporter from the Post didn’t slam him too badly…except for that caption. Listen to this:

  Romano quoted President Lincoln: “The mission for government is ‘To care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan.’ In his statement to the committee he said, “I ask you, can these values be accomplished by our current government system which is stretched beyond its founders’ imaginings? The consortium proposes to, and is fully prepared to share the burden, take on certain responsibilities and tasks including medical and mental health care, provision of prosthetics, rehabilitation and when necessary partner with the VA in providing housing, education and family support.

  The government is over burdened, and our veterans are paying the biggest price, with many taking out expensive private insurance to make sure their needs and those of their families are met. But private companies and professionals in every field are willing to step up and fill the gap. All that’s needed is the agreement to begin. H.R. 6159 will be a step toward better lives for our vets. They deserve it. We owe it to them. Don’t let them down.”

  “Wow,” Sonja said. “I can’t believe he was the man on that stage.”

  Buffy’s thoughts were on Ridge and what he was doing in the way of “damage control”. Worry about his reaction to the article was constant but the little nudge from her gut reminded her to believe she would hear from him.

  “What are you smiling at?” asked Cathy. “Hey, didn’t you have a meeting with him the other night? He didn’t tell you any of this?”

  “We discussed some of it but not in detail. You know, I run into this a lot with cover models. People have so many preconceptions. I hate that Ridge was just enjoying himself and he became a victim of what we’ve come to expect, but were hoping was improving—romance bias.”

  Sonya said, “Well, he’s got a big problem now. Who ever sent that picture to the reporter has effectively given that Congresswoman some live ammunition.”

  “Oh, no.” Deborah, who’d been looking at a text on her phone, suddenly grabbed her stomach and leaned over shaking her head, making frantic noises.

  “What is it? Deborah, are you okay?” Buffy asked. Sally patted Deborah on the back. Sonya, Diane and Cathy seemed at a loss for words.

  “It’s all my fault,” Deborah said, pulling a tissue from her purse, tears streaking down her plump cheeks. Her distress was genuine. “I thought I was doing a good thing. I had no idea. And now…”

  Sonya looked over at Buffy and shrugged. Deborah sniffled, “He’s such a nice man and he didn’t deserve to be trashed like that. I wish I could fix it somehow.”

  Buffy took in the woman’s complexion. She didn’t look well. “Why do you think this is your fault, Deborah?”

  Deborah’s hands twisted in her lap. Mouth turned down she said, “I sent that picture of him at the bingo game to a friend of mine, and she forwarded it to a woman she knows in the entertainment section of the Post without asking me. She said she was just thinking they’d use it in the coverage of the conference. You know how hard it is to get people to cover anything about the romance industry. Apparently someone at the Post who’s on the Capitol beat, recognized him and they came to all the wrong conclusions. I thought he was such a handsome man and he was so sweet to me.”

  She blew her nose. “He offered to pay me several thousand dollars for that shirt, you know. I knew he was just trying to give me a gift to help me pay for my new prosthesis without embarrassing me. I could just kill my friend. I wish there was something I could do to make it right.”

  They were all silent while the waiter left their checks.

  “I’ve got it.” Sally pulled her wallet out, grabbed their tickets and laid her American Express on the table. “He gave me this. It says, “Medtronics, R. Romano, CEO.”

  “That’s the same card he gave me,” Deborah said. “He said to call him if I had any problems getting my new prosthetic or with rehab.” She teared up again.

  Sally said, “I can’t tell you how many readers I’ve heard from who have loved ones that would benefit from the bill. I’ve been invited to do blog interviews and fundraisers for other charities besides the Wounded Warrior Project. One soldier asked if I could have a signing at their base and bring attention to the bill. Getting that bill passed is a top priority for many veterans groups right now.”

  Buffy wanted to hear more, but Diane stood up. “I’ve got to get over to Claranne Braxton’s workshop.” She looked at Sonya, “And I guess you’re having breakfast with a certain handsome tour guide.”

  Sonya just smiled, “That’s the only way I’d skip that workshop. Take good notes, okay? I’ll see you this afternoon.” She waved goodbye and followed Diane and Cathy out. Deborah steered her wheelchair out after Buffy assured her everything would work out. Then she turned to Sally.

  “Do you have plans this morning?”

  Sally said, “I’m driving home this morning, why? What have you got in mind?”

  Buffy’s marketing brain had been firing on all cylinders since she’d read the rest of the article and she wanted Sally’s experienced feedback to see if her ideas held value. She briefed Sally on her idea and suggested they adjourn to her suite. Sally said she needed to stop by her room on the way and get her briefcase and then they could strategize.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Buffy walked into the foyer of her favorite place, the old farmhouse she’d purchased with her parents’ blessings, and guidance, since she’d been only seventeen. Even then, she’d known she wanted a house, a permanent place that tied her to Larue, something physical to serve as an anchor when she was a world away.

  She eased into the leather Claremore overstuffed chair in the living room and propped her feet on the ottoman. Every time she walked in the door she felt her world settle into place. There’d been many times in the last eight years when she’d felt the same, but none more so than today.

  Meeting Ridge had been… could be… would be life changing, but the way they’d left things Sunday had unsettled her. She needed to go see her grandmother as soon as she took care of some business.

  Buffy was close to her entire family, but there was a special connection between her and Grandmama Lillie. Every one in the family said she’d gotten her hair color from Lillie, since everyone else had dark hair. The toughness and strong sense of herself Buffy credited to years of being encouraged by a huge loving family, and teased about her hair—I’d rather be dead than red on the head—and freckles. The teasing hadn’t been mean, just kids—cousins, brother, and her older sister…

  She wanted to know more about this Calloway curl and she dare not mention it to her mother who would have her shopping for a wedding gown this weekend. The phone rang and the object of her thoughts asked, “Did you have a good trip, Sweetheart?”

  Buffy’s mother had a classic southern accent, pronouncing it, sweethaht. Love for her mother was like a
warm cloud in her chest. She’d been watching for her. “Hi, Mom. It was a great conference, mostly.” She couldn’t help but remember how it had ended.

  “Did you find that man you were looking for?”

  Buffy’s breath stalled. Did she know? How?

  “Buffy? Did you find the ‘face’ of your franchise? That was your main objective for going wasn’t it?”

  “Um, I found some possibilities. Four in fact.” One in particular. “I’m still interviewing.” She wasn’t sure what to do next. Her list was huge: order office furniture, equipment and supplies; hire staff, setup websites, and coordinate marketing. And name the business…

  “Lillie and I were wonderin’ if you wanted to come out for lunch.” I know you’re probly tired, but we’d love to see you—”

  “I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” Buffy said, swinging her feet to the floor. “I’m taking the rest of the day off.”

  “That’s great, honey. Go to your grandparents. I’ll meet’cha there. Love you.” She hung up.

  Buffy spoke into dead air, “Love you too, Mom.” She decided everything could wait until the next day. She dragged her suitcase into the laundry room then went to change into some shorts and a Saints tank top. There was one thing about clothing in Louisiana in August—less was better.

  She donned a wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses, grabbed her purse and jogged out to her car.

  The home where her grandparents and great grandparents lived was close to the southeastern shore of Storm Lake next to an inlet off the main shoreline which afforded a view of the wetlands between the house and the deeper waters beyond. Buffy never tired of it. In the evenings as the sun set in the West the clouds and foliage reflected off the water like a mirror and on lazy afternoons graceful blue heron and egrets glided through the shallow water, searching for a meal. It wasn’t unusual to see an alligator flounce its tail and capture some unlucky prey.

  The house was a pale, pale blue with white trim, but being so close to the water they’d opted for a screened in porch since the mosquitoes owned the outdoors near any water body for most of the year. Buffy’s great-grandmother Roberta contended that the light turquoise blue was a mosquito deterrent. Unfortunately, no one had told the mosquitoes.

  As Buffy let herself onto the porch she was surprised to see a mini gathering of family—her grandparents, great-grandparents, her brother Ted and her great-aunt Victoria.

  “Did I miss the RSVP?” She’d been expecting an intimate lunch with her mother and grandmother, not the full family council. And they’d even brought in the big gun, retired Cmdr. Victoria Larue. “Um… what’s going on?”

  She walked to the bar and poured a tall glass of Lillie’s renowned sweet tea, second only to chocolate on her list of thank God I can eat it now foods.

  Her father, a striking dark-haired man—if she did say so herself—-put his arms around her and gave her a fierce hug rocking her back and forth. “How’s my girl? Tired?”

  “Glad to be home,” Buffy sighed into his chest then lifted her head to receive the peck on her lips. She whispered, “Did I miss somebody’s birthday? Anniversary?” She had a special calendar for family events, complete with reminders and double alerts, which was why she was getting an uneasy feeling.

  His shoulders sagged and released her. Her mother gave her a hug next, and she made the rounds to her great-grands and Aunt Vic. Then she turned, planted her hands on her hips and said, “Okay, what is it? It’s got a be bad.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Her brother Ted, a real estate agent and her closest sibling, said, “The offer fell through, Buff. And we didn’t even get a chance to counter.”

  With a sigh, Buffy sank into the nearest chair. She’d made a very decent offer on a vacant grocery store and while she’d been traveling down the highway toward home she’d fleshed out how she would renovate and make it suit her purposes without busting her budget. “Damn.”

  The faces staring back at her said plainly, they felt her pain. Of course they did. They always had. She looked at her brother. Ted looked so much like their father, Theodore, they’d been accused of being brothers, which wasn’t surprising to her since Theo was a health nut and running enthusiast.

  “Options?” she asked.

  He shook his head, “The same ones you rejected before, unless you want to reconsider. And Mrs. O’Rourke called to say her offer would stand until someone pays the price she’s been asking for that warehouse, which isn’t likely. Are you sure you don’t want to take her up on it?”

  Buffy shook her head. “Not unless I absolutely have to and… I’d probably turn my house into a studio first.”

  Her mother asked, “Have you been thinking about that?”

  Ted wondered, “Would that even work, Sis?”

  Buffy sighed. “If it was a good option, I’d be open now; my house is paid for.” But the truth was, the house was her refuge and she didn’t want to turn it into a business location. She turned to Ted. “What about over in the industrial center? No one has a large space they want to rent? What about a big house outside of town with some land?”

  She could picture the variety of shots she could get right in the backyard of a place like that. It might come down to using her house temporarily even though it was too small for the needs of the business, but her ultimate goal was to move in to the right location permanently. Second to that would be a temporary place that would suit for three to five years.

  She frowned at Ted, “What’s happening with the market around here? Are prices running higher? Is there a sudden influx of buyers on the local market? I thought that was a good offer.”

  “It was, but you’re going to be renting, and you don’t want to compete with the big name hardware store on rent. They’re moving the old hardware into it. I’ll keep looking, expand out a little further.”

  “As long as it’s still considered Larue,” said Buffy, adamantly.

  Victoria stood and walked over to Buffy while the others went inside to get ready for dinner. She hugged her and said, “It’ll work out, hon. We just bought the old gym downtown for Luc. You know, he’s wanted to open a teen center for a long time. The place was in deplorable condition. Luckily it doesn’t have to be fixed up all at once. I wish it did, because that would mean my son…” she sighed, choosing not to put words to her fear. “Luc insists he’s going to re-up for two more years.”

  “He probably thinks you want him to retire from the service, like you did.”

  She groaned, “Probably. But between you and me, Buffy, my baby boy can’t come home soon enough. Samantha will be home in less than two years, you know.” Her smile faded just a little, “I worry about both of my serving family members. I want them home.”

  Buffy smiled. “You know you might be able to help me with a project I’m working on. Do you mind if I call you in a couple days? I need someone with more current military perspective.”

  “Well, I don’t know how current my perspective is, hon. I retired a long time ago.”

  “Oh, Aunt Vic, you’re up on all the latest issues on veterans.”

  That aristocratic brow lifted and Buffy wondered how many soldiers she’d intimidated with that look. She smiled, “Well, you just come on over and we can talk, anytime.” She kissed Buffy on the cheek and said, “See you! I’ll keep my eyes open.”

  After lunch Buffy decided to wait on her conversation with Lillie since she now had to adjust her plans. She’d have to postpone all the appointments she’d made, call the printer and put a hold on her orders. Might as well take the help wanted ad out of the paper, too.

  Sighing, she leaned back against her seat. She’d been so ready to move ahead, but she couldn’t do anything without a place to locate her business. She made a note as she passed a large barn to call Ted and tell him to expand his search to all workable available spaces, even barns.

  She’d been willing to sign a long-term lease, but didn’t have the funds to actually purchase a building. A tiny nugget of an id
ea struck but it made her nauseous to contemplate it. She could sell her home, use it for a down payment on the ideal location.

  Again, she resisted the idea. She would not give in until she was out of options, not wanting to imagine her life without her beautiful restored farmhouse. She’d hoped it would be her future, where she would raise her children, grow old with her husband…

  Her thoughts strayed to Ridge. She wondered what he was doing. Had he met up with “Belinda”? How was the damage control going? She checked the Internet to see if there was any follow-up on the story but Congress had gone home for the end of session.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  In the weeks that followed there was plenty to do but Ridge was never far from Buffy’s mind. He hadn’t called and she wondered how he was progressing. The networks were full of coverage about the successful optioning of World Bionics, which apparently concentrated on non-medical uses for the products they developed—as Sonya had speculated, military applications for robotics.

  There was much speculation about what he’d do now that’s he was a multi-billionaire. And of course, Congresswoman Vork was making snide remarks that amounted to, “I told you so.”

  The papers went on to describe his contracts with the government in security and mentioned that he had “stepped aside” to allow his partner to take over as CEO. They made it sound like it was the result of the incident in D.C. but she figured insiders knew that was part of his plan.

  Ted called early one morning to tell her about three properties he wanted her to see. He drove up in his shiny black Ford F-250 Super cab and honked.

  “I’m sure you don’t do your regular clients this way,” she teased as she opened her own door and heaved herself into the truck.

  “I drive the Lexus when I have ‘paying’ clients,” he said, grinning, pulling out of her driveway toward town.