His Cowboy Heart

by Jennifer Ryan

  A crease formed between his brows as his eyes narrowed on her. “I’m concerned about my best friend, who won’t speak to me.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been . . .” She slid her fingers over her forehead, unable to put into words how lost she’d been until Ford. Yes, until Ford. Everything changed when he came back into her life and made it easy to breathe again.

  “Me, too,” Tobin answered, knowing what she wanted to say without her having to say all the words to describe what she’d been through. His gaze softened on her face and his mouth dipped into a forlorn frown. “That’s why I came. I don’t want you to go through this alone. You couldn’t help it. You froze. It happens.”

  That odd sense of dread and the feeling that she was missing a piece of the muddled puzzle in her mind flared to life, knotting her gut. “What are you saying?”

  “Don’t worry, Keller, I didn’t say anything in my debriefing. It’s war. Things happen that are out of our control. Maybe a few more of us would have survived if you’d acted, but you were out of your head with pain, barely able to think through the agony, let alone move and do what needed to be done. It’s okay. No one needs to know.”

  “I can’t remember . . .”

  “It’s better you never remember what happened.” The intensity in his words and body struck her. “You keep telling the Army that and you won’t get in trouble. Just keep it to yourself. Don’t tell anyone. It’s our secret. People like Ford, who have never been to war, seen the things we’ve seen, done what we’ve done in the name of freedom for them, won’t understand. They’ll condemn you, Jamie.” His voice softened. “But I’m here now. I’ll protect you. I’ll make sure no one ever finds out.”

  Jamie tried to put what Tobin said and the pieces of the nightmare together in her mind, but her brain shut down. She didn’t want to believe what Tobin said was true. She’d been responsible for some of her friends’ deaths. She’d frozen and they’d died.

  She hadn’t done what needed to be done to save them.

  Like the months home she’d spent not doing what she needed to do to be well. Because deep down she didn’t believe she deserved to live and be well again. And now she finally understood that nagging feeling inside of her. It wasn’t just survivor’s guilt. She really was responsible.

  Tobin stared at her. His eyes didn’t hold a bit of censure or hate. He genuinely believed it wasn’t her fault because she’d been in bad shape when it all went down. He forgave her because of that, but she couldn’t forgive herself.

  A man of action, one willing to sacrifice for his family the way he had when he sent her away, would Ford understand her weakness and inability to help her friends when they needed her most?

  Oh God. “I . . .”

  Tobin took her face into his hands again. “I’m here to help, Jamie. I’m here for you. I was there. Right beside you. You had my back, and I’ve got yours.” His gaze fell to his feet, then swept back up to meet hers. “I will keep your secret, but you’ve got to be careful what you say to Dr. Porter and Ford. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

  Red-rimmed and shadowed eyes held hers. Too much booze, not enough sleep. He’d lost some weight since she’d seen him. His ready smile didn’t come so easily, or at all as time passed and they reacquainted themselves with each other. His body remained tense and on edge. His gaze swept around the room and darted out the door more times than she could count.

  Yeah, she got that on guard behavior innate to someone who’d been to war, that feeling that a threat lay around every corner.

  She didn’t want to face her past with this new knowledge and the roiling anger, guilt, and agonizing pain in her gut for what she’d done—or hadn’t done that she should have to save her friends no matter what. But she needed to know the truth. Once she knew everything, maybe then she could find a way to live with it and herself.

  Tobin knew what happened. He’d give it to her straight. With a sick heart, she finally welcomed the one person who knew the worst about her, who hadn’t turned his back, but had come to protect her from herself.

  “Are you hungry?” She’d feed him and get the answers to those black spots in her mind.

  “Are you cooking?” His words held little enthusiasm.

  She gave him a mocking frown. She might not be a gourmet chef, but she could put together a decent meal. Or at least an edible one. “I won’t poison you.” She glanced at the clock, remembering they wouldn’t be alone long. She needed to get her answers fast. “Uh, Ford will be here soon. He’s a great cook.”

  “What’s he going to say about me staying here with you?”

  Presumptuous, but she couldn’t toss him out after he’d come all this way.

  Ford might object. Ford would definitely object. Shit. She had some explaining to do when he showed up.

  She needed more time.

  Would he see it in her face now that she knew why she’d fought so hard to forget her past? Would he leave her because of what she’d done?

  You can’t go back and fix what you did wrong. He forgave you for leaving, but will he forgive you for the lives you took, the ones you didn’t save?

  Bile rose to the back of her throat. She choked it back and tried to pull it together.

  “Ford left a couple of steaks in the fridge. I’ll make the salad and put the potatoes in the oven to bake.” Her stomach turned at the thought of food, but she needed to do something mundane, normal, or she’d go completely crazy with the thoughts and feelings swirling in her mind.

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Take a seat at the table. Fill in the blanks for me. What happened out there?”

  Tobin dropped into the chair. “It’s best to let it be, Jamie.”

  “I can’t.”

  She set Zoey on the floor. The puppy bounded over to Tobin’s big booted foot and pounced on it, growling at the black laces and biting them as she danced back, then went in for another attack.

  Tobin batted Zoey away with a swat of his big hand. “Beat it, Killer.”

  Jamie froze in place. Her heart dropped into her stomach and her throat seized on the scream rising up inside of her. A great black wave stole reality from her and dumped her on her back in the middle of that street, staring up at the dark man looking down on her.

  Chapter 23

  “Keller!” a man shouted from inside Jamie’s house.

  Ford ran up the steps and straight through Jamie’s front door, making it slam against the wall and bounce off it nearly hitting Ford’s arm, but he didn’t stop until he got between Jamie and the guy who must be Tobin. It took some effort to pull the guy’s hand off Jamie’s shoulder and step in front of her, backing the guy up with a cold glare. Ford’s insides turned to ice-cold rage at seeing Tobin with his hands on Jamie and the blank stare on her face that meant she’d blacked out and gone to another place. A place he hoped he could reach her once again.

  “Back off,” Ford bit out, hands fisted at his sides, holding his ground in front of Jamie.

  Tobin took two menacing steps toward him, his eyes narrowed with fury and lips drawn back in a threatening snarl. “Something’s wrong with her.”

  Jamie’s arms wrapped around Ford from behind. Her hands pressed to his chest and pulled him back against her. She buried her face in his spine between his shoulder blades. He quit glaring at the man in front of him and turned to take care of the woman he loved. His gut ached seeing her like this. Clinging to him, she pressed her forehead to his chest.

  He slid his hands up her arms to her neck and used his thumbs pressed to her chin to get her to look up at him. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. I—I’m fine.”

  “It’s not nothing. You’re not fine.”

  She turned to the half open door and his truck out in the driveway. “You’re early. When did you get here?”

  “While you were blacked out again. What triggered you this time?”

  “Jamie, are you okay?” Tobin asked, stepping up beside them.
/>   She pulled Ford close, turned her head away from her friend, and held Ford tight. “I’m sorry.”

  Ford kissed her on the head. “No sorries. Talk to me.”

  Her grip on his sides tightened. He didn’t mind the small pain.

  “I didn’t know. Now I do. It hurts so much. I don’t know what happened. I fell back in time. I have to live with it.”

  Ford didn’t understand that convoluted line of thinking. He’d get her to explain when she was calm again. He brushed his fingers through her hair to soothe her, then ran his hands down her neck and back, rubbing her tense muscles until he got to the gun in her waistband. He leaned back and stared down at her, though she didn’t meet his gaze.

  “Well, at least we’ve made some progress.” She hadn’t pulled the gun on Tobin, or shot anyone. “You didn’t—” She pressed her fingertips to his lips, cutting off his words.

  “I’m okay now.” She pulled his hands away from her back, the gun, and sidestepped so Tobin didn’t see what she’d tried to hide from both of them. He read the narrow-eyed look on her face. She didn’t want Tobin to know about the gun.

  Great. What the hell did he step into between these two?

  “Someone want to explain what just happened?” Tobin persisted.

  “I suffer flashbacks. I don’t remember everything that happened. You know that. But sometimes it comes back like a living nightmare.”

  Tobin eyed her. “Some things are better left buried.”

  Ford didn’t get the look Jamie and Tobin shared, or the deep grief that filled her eyes. He sure as hell didn’t like the way Jamie couldn’t even look at him.

  “Jamie loses time, her ability to see reality, and does things she shouldn’t without thinking.” Ford felt that strange undercurrent between Jamie and Tobin intensify.

  “What kinds of things?”

  “Those aren’t woodpecker holes in the doors and window.” The sarcasm in his voice belied the deep concern eating away at his insides that Jamie needed her gun close when she’d left it in her room this last week. Well, except for that incident after she lost time talking to Dr. Porter. And now this. He’d really thought she’d improved these last weeks. It just proved how tenuous her progress was and that every hard-won victory could be laid to waste with these setbacks.

  Tobin surveyed the front door, the bedroom door down the short hallway, then settled his worried gaze on Jamie behind him, her back against the wall, her eyes cast down to her feet.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were having this much trouble?”

  “I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this.”

  Ford leaned down and picked up Zoey to stop her from jumping on his legs. He turned and handed her to Jamie. “There you go, Firefly. Hang on to her.”

  Like always, Zoey’s puppy kisses and undying devotion and love eased Jamie. She took in a slow breath and let it out, hugging Zoey close. Ford rubbed Jamie’s arms up and down a few times to calm her even more. “Sit down. Breathe. I’ll make you something to eat.”

  She took the seat at the table closest to the kitchen and shared another of those knowing looks with Tobin across from her. Whatever he’d missed between those two before he arrived seemed to have driven a wedge between Ford and Jamie. He didn’t understand it or like it one bit.

  He definitely didn’t like this change in Jamie’s attitude. She’d been so positive and strong, yet today she’d slipped back into thinking she should have died over there. Not good. He wished he knew what to say or do to make her feel better.

  Tobin’s unannounced visit sure as hell hadn’t done her any good. He needed to go. Soon. Now would be better, but not Ford’s call.

  Tobin scrubbed a hand over his face. “Mind if I grab a beer?”

  “Help yourself,” Jamie offered.

  Tobin pulled two from the fridge, unscrewed the caps on both, and handed one to Jamie. Tobin downed half of his in one long gulp.

  Jamie took a sip of hers and didn’t look up from Zoey, probably because she didn’t want to see the surprise he couldn’t hide on his face. She hadn’t had a drink since she shot him. Nothing but a sip or two from his beer.

  This is going downhill fast.

  He didn’t want to put her on the spot in front of her company, so he snagged the beer from her hand and drank a long swig like she did from his all the time before setting it in front of her again.

  “I take it you’re staying for dinner,” Ford said to Tobin, trying to keep his anger in check and out of his voice.

  “I’m staying for a while,” Tobin shot back.

  Ford wanted to punch the smug smile right off his face.

  “You know, to make sure Jamie is okay and doing better.”

  She was until you showed up.

  Ford held his tongue for Jamie’s sake. He didn’t want her to think this incident meant anything more than the other ones. She’d gotten through those. She’d get through this one.

  He’d get that damn gun away from her again.

  “I guess the spare room has your name on it.” As in, don’t even think about moving in on my girl.

  Yep, Ford wanted to punch the smug smile right off Tobin’s face. This was not going down the way Tobin wanted it. He’d come for a reason, and Ford didn’t think it all had to do with Tobin checking in on his good friend.

  He wanted Jamie.

  Never going to happen.

  “You know, I owe you a debt of gratitude.”

  Suspicion filled Tobin’s eyes. “You do?”

  “Absolutely. Thanks to you saving Jamie, I got a second chance to build a life with her.”

  Tobin cocked his chin at Jamie and the scars peeking out from under her shirt, crawling up her neck. “They look a hell of a lot better.”

  “They’re not as bad as Jamie thinks they are,” Ford added, reassuring her once again that they didn’t bother him.

  “Pretty damn bad when it happened. After she got shot, I thought she was a goner, but Jamie’s tough. She made it.” Tobin’s eyes unfocused and stared into the past just as Jamie’s eyes too often did.

  “Where were you when Jamie got shot?”

  Tobin didn’t miss a beat. “Pinned down by gunfire like everyone else. I barely got out of there alive.”

  “From what Jamie remembered, it doesn’t sound like anyone but you and her made it.”

  Tobin and Jamie shared another of those strange looks. “We were lucky.”

  Ford brushed his hand over her soft hair. “You need to eat. It’s time for your meds.” He took another swig from her beer, nearly draining it for her. The more he drank, the less she did.

  He went to the fridge and pulled out the steaks. Too late to bake the potatoes, so he set them on the cutting board, then chopped them into cubes, dumping the whole lot into a cast iron fry pan on the stove.

  Jamie got up and served herself and Tobin a second round of beers, anything to break the silence between them. Ford let it go. For now. He’d keep an eye on her, and especially Tobin. The guy tried to pull off being relaxed and just here to see a friend, but Ford caught the edge to his words, the way he couldn’t stop staring at Jamie, and the not-so-subtle glares he darted at Ford while Jamie stared at her lap or fussed with Zoey.

  Maybe Ford had it all wrong and the guy was just looking out for his friend’s best interests. Ford could relate, because he too wanted only the best for Jamie. Then why didn’t Tobin see the worry and hesitation in Jamie’s eyes, understand that drinking and taking her meds wasn’t a good idea, talk to her about something that didn’t bring all the nightmares back?

  He cooked and gave them some space, hoping Jamie would settle down. Tobin drew her out of her head, talking about old friends. The stories and shared memories seemed to ease Jamie and make her sad all at the same time.

  Ford left the potatoes frying on the stove and went to her, sliding his hand over her shoulder and neck and settling it over the scar on her chest.

  Tobin glared at the intima
cy between them. “So, you really don’t remember anything about being shot.” Tobin leaned back in his chair, his head bowed, but his gaze sharp on Jamie’s face.

  “No.” Jamie picked at the label on her beer bottle. “It pushes at my mind, but I can’t see it. I thought I wanted to remember, but now . . .” Jamie shook her head.

  Ford leaned down close to her ear and whispered, “You did everything you could under the circumstances. Living your life, being happy, honors your friends, Firefly. Live for them.”

  Jamie clasped her hand around his forearm and kissed the healing burns on the back of his hand. “I should have done more.”

  Tobin pointed his beer at Jamie. “He’s right. Dwelling on the past won’t change what happened. They’d want us to move on.”

  Jamie flinched under his hand. A tremble rippled through her. He squeezed her shoulder to let her know he was there, to anchor her in the here and now, but he didn’t understand her reaction.

  Weary, Jamie stared into space. “Every time I think I have a hold on my mental state, something takes me back there. You should know that I tend to hurt people when I’m lost in the past. I lash out when I get angry.”

  “You didn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat.” Tobin seemed so sure of himself, but his eyes narrowed with concern.

  “What she’s trying to tell you is that she can’t help herself. She’s not really there sometimes. In those moments, she doesn’t see the person in front of her. She isn’t in the moment, she’s in her head battling what you can’t see but she remembers so clearly and wants to stop.”

  “I can’t stop it,” she snapped. “It’s done. I didn’t do what needed to be done, and they’re gone.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that at all. Ford crouched beside her and slipped his hand behind her neck. He massaged the tight muscles and pulled her forehead to his. He stared into her eyes, telling her with just a look how much he loved her, hoping his presence helped her get through this.

  For a second the connection they shared pulsed strong and true, then Jamie retreated into her head with a look so filled with regret and sadness he felt the weight of it in his chest, too.