Serving Trouble

by Sara Jane Stone

  “I held it together on the plane,” she whispered. “I just sat there and hoped you would be OK. But then I realized that if you survive this, if you’re fine, no permanent damage—­you’ll go back. I know you will.”

  Because Dominic had never been afraid. Or if he had been, he’d hidden it well. She’d only seen this desire to take on injustice, to fight for those who couldn’t stand up for themselves. And his drive to be the best of the best. Her brother had his sights set on attending Ranger School from the beginning.

  “Oh, Dominic,” she said, raising her voice, hoping he’d hear her. But he hadn’t opened his eyes since she’d arrived at the hospital. The nurse said that was normal given the anesthesia.

  Normal.

  She’d laughed, the sound brittle and bordering on hysterical. The nurse had left her alone with Dominic, but made sure Josie knew she’d be nearby in case anyone needed her. And she had a feeling the staff thought the recently arrived sister would need them more than the injured soldier.

  But they didn’t understand. She’d spent the longest and most precious weeks of her life sitting beside a hospital bed. It had been much smaller—­technically an incubator—­but the machines were the same. Watching the blinking lights on the monitors, waiting, that had become her normal.

  And here she was again.

  So much had changed. This was Dominic, not Morgan. She wasn’t alone. Her father was asleep in the hotel room the army had arranged for their stay. But still, sitting here, watching someone she loved, a member of her family who owned a part of her heart that would shatter into tiny pieces if he didn’t make it through just like it had when Morgan stopped fighting, she wondered . . .

  What am I waiting for? Why am I pushing Noah away when I could be holding him close?

  Her gaze remained fixed on her brother, but her mind wandered back to her hometown. To be fair, she had held him very close before they left. But reaching through grief, holding on to the person nearby to feel something, anything other than the fear wound tight to pain, that wasn’t the same.

  Watching Dominic’s heartbeat on a computer monitor, she opened her eyes to the fact that she wanted Noah in her life. Yes, she was terrified that she couldn’t handle the heartbreak if he decided to walk away, if he heard the words “I love you” and fled.

  “The thing is,” she murmured to her brother, “I think I love him.”

  She had run to Noah Tager’s side when she’d needed someone. And this time, she hadn’t been looking for him to step in and save the day. He couldn’t do a damn thing for her brother. He wasn’t a doctor. But he could bear witness to her pain and hold her close.

  He’d changed over the past five years. She understood that, possibly better than anyone else in Forever. And she liked who he was now. He still possessed a body she wanted to explore, from his supersized muscles to his . . .

  She glanced at her brother. The anesthesia still had a hold on him. But she didn’t want him to wake up while she was thinking about Noah’s abs. No, she needed to focus on his other qualities. The fact that Noah helped his friends when they asked. Sure, he didn’t smile as much. But beneath his defensive scowl, she had a feeling he was still the same guy who’d driven his grandmother to the beach because she loved the feel of sand between her toes.

  “I meant it when I told him I loved him that night. In the barn. Five years ago,” she whispered. “I love him. Maybe I always have . . .”

  And suddenly the thought of not risking her heart on Noah seemed so much worse than the potential fallout.

  “HE’S GOING TO make a full recovery.”

  Noah heard those words, spoken over a crystal clear international connection, and he sank to his knees behind the bar. He’d been living in a fucking holding pattern for the past two weeks. Josie had called with updates, but never good news. He’d had to fight back tears after that first call, and he’d been working that time too.

  “Dominic’s here. I don’t know much yet, but he was shot in the chest. He’s in surgery.” Josie had paused for what felt like forever. “Again. But the nurse said most combat-­related deaths happen before they reach the hospital, so all least he’s here, right?”

  “Right,” he’d confirmed as the pit in his stomach had turning into a fucking crater. And God, he’d felt like he would lose it right there, one hand on the taps, his shoulder holding his phone pressed against his ear.

  “You all right down there?” Josh called from the other side of the bar. It was Tuesday and they’d just opened Big Buck’s, otherwise Noah would have had a full audience to witness his weak-­kneed tumble. “Not going to faint on me, are you? Because I left my smelling salts in the car.”

  He drew his cell away from his ear and looked up at the redheaded Summers brother peering down at him. “Shouldn’t you be out somewhere chopping down trees and pissing off environmentalists?”

  Josh shook his head. “Day off.”

  “Then sit down and drink your beer.” Noah pushed himself off the ground.

  “Noah, are you there?” Josie said.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Dominic is going to be fine,” she said. “Well, he’ll probably never fight the bad guys again. The doctors said he did a number on his hand. And the pulmonary artery doesn’t exactly heal overnight . . . But he’s awake, breathing, and today he might get to eat something.”

  “I’m so fucking glad to hear that, Josie,” he said, glancing at Josh. He had questions for her, but none that he wanted to ask in front of an audience. “Hold on a sec,” he said to Josie. Then he covered the mic with one hand and spoke to Josh. “Mind going into the back to check on Caroline? She’s been jumpy lately. I try to check on her every so often.”

  “Is she armed?” Josh asked casually as he slid off his stool and picked up his pint glass.

  “No, her gun is still in my safe,” he said.

  Josh nodded. “Then it would be my pleasure.”

  Noah waited until the door to the back room swung closed, and then he removed his hand from the mic. “I’m back, Josie,” he said, rounding the end of the bar and heading for the door. It wasn’t anywhere near closing time yet. Hell, it wasn’t even one in the afternoon. But he flipped the sign on the front door to closed.

  “Everything all right there?” Josie asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Except my dishwasher thinks she’s being hunted and keeps asking for her gun back. Oh, and I miss you. The way you serve drinks like you own the place, the way you kiss, the way you feel beneath me, and hell, the way you call me a jerk.

  “We’re fine here,” he continued. “How are you?”

  “I’m glad that I flew over. Thank you for covering my bills. I’ll pay you back. I promise.”

  “Paid sick leave, family leave . . . it comes with the assistant manager gig,” he said.

  Family leave.

  She just might need that newly created benefit. He ran his hand over his face, closing his eyes. He’d spent the past two weeks coming to terms with the fact that part of him hoped she was pregnant. Shit, he’d put himself through fourteen straight days of pure hell, hoping that Josie would call him up and tell him they were having a baby. He wanted a reason to hold tight to her and not let go, an excuse to give Dominic now that his best friend was going to live—­thank God—­for wanting his little sister.

  But shit, he was a jerk. How could he hope for something that would tear her apart? After what she’d suffered through the last time, it felt fucking selfish.

  “Thank you,” she said. “But I think I’m pushing the limits of sick leave even for the assistant manager.”

  “We’ll talk about it when you get back,” he said. Please say you’re coming home soon.

  “OK. But, Noah, I’m staying here until they send Dominic back to the States. My dad’s leaving in a few days. He says he needs to get back to work. But I—
­”

  “Take as long as you need,” he said firmly.

  “Thank you,” she said, and this time her voice was soft and gentle. “When this is all over and Dominic is settled into a rehab hospital, then I’m coming home to you.”

  Noah opened his eyes and stared out into the empty bar. What the hell did that mean? Coming home to him or the bar, her job, and her debt?

  “Hey, Noah?” Josh called, peering around the edge of the door to the back room. “Sorry, man, I didn’t realize you were still on the phone.”

  “I’ll let you go,” Josie said.

  “Bye. And, Josie, take care of yourself.”

  He lowered the phone, ended the call, and slipped his cell into his pocket. Turning his attention to Josh, he said, “What’s up?”

  “Your dishwasher is having a panic attack back here,” Josh reported. “And it has nothing to do with the sparkling clean pint glasses.”

  Shit.

  What could have happened since they arrived at the bar? They hadn’t heard from Dustin since he sent that picture. Noah was close to convinced their former commanding officer wasn’t hiding in his woods. So much so that he’d stopped searching the property after he closed the bar. Not that he was getting any more sleep. Most nights he lay awake thinking about Josie.

  But he knew Caroline felt as if the threat was still imminent—­from Dustin, from the police, who would arrest her if they found out she was AWOL. And while Noah was all for keeping her identity and the fact that she’d served alongside him in the marines out of the Forever gossip mill, he was starting to question if Dustin still posed a danger. Maybe their former commanding officer had given up. It wasn’t much fun to torment someone who didn’t respond. And the guy did have a family in California even if his wife had kicked him out.

  “I’ll talk to her,” he said.

  Josh stepped through the door and looked around the empty room. “Want me to man the bar? I think I can handle a crowd this size.”

  Noah raised an eyebrow as he lowered the wooden section dividing the back of the bar from the customer area. “We’re closed. I already flipped the sign.”

  “Good.” Josh’s easy-­going manner vanished. “You might want to keep it closed. That guy who’s after her?”

  Noah nodded, hearing the edge in Josh’s voice. It sounded like the logger was taking Dustin’s pursuit personally.

  “He dropped off another picture,” Josh continued. “A printout this time. He must have slipped it under the door while she was unloading the clean dishes out front. Caroline didn’t see or hear anything. And she’s on her guard every damn second.”

  “Is the photo recent?” Noah demanded, his hand on the door, ready to push through and do whatever he needed to keep Caroline safe.

  Maybe I can’t do a damn thing for Josie or Dominic, but this I can handle.

  “Yes,” Josh said. “But the thing is, I’m not sure it is Caroline in the shot.”

  “What do you mean you’re not sure?” he demanded.

  “It looks a helluva lot like Josie.”

  A shiver ran down his spine, something he hadn’t felt since he’d shouldered his weapon and headed out to face the bad guys.

  “The picture was taken from a distance,” Josh continued. “And they have the same long dark hair. Whoever took the shot could have made a mistake and thought it was Caroline.”

  “Where was it taken?” Noah asked. Please don’t say Big Buck’s parking lot.

  “Caroline, Josie, whoever it is, she’s standing outside your barn holding one of your kittens,” Josh said, his tone grim.

  Ah hell.

  And just like that, Noah knew—­his dishwasher had every right to be paranoid. Because this threat defined imminent danger. Dustin was out there. And he was close enough to see Noah’s barn.

  “We’re keeping the bar closed,” Noah said as he pushed through the door. “And we’re going to find him.”

  THE SUN WAS slipping behind the clouds and Noah didn’t have a clue where Dustin was hiding. He’d driven through Forever’s quiet downtown with Josh and Caroline in his truck, scanning the streets. Josh had volunteered to pop into The Three Sisters Café and ask a few questions, and Noah had given him the go-­ahead. The Forever town gossips didn’t keep tabs on ­people who lived an hour or so away and were less likely to respond to Josh’s questions with their own interrogation.

  But Elvira hadn’t seen a lone man fitting Dustin’s description. No one had.

  And their former commanding officer wasn’t roaming the university campus. Noah had driven back and forth through the campus twice hoping to find Dustin hiding in plain sight.

  Now they were walking through the woods between his property and the neighbor’s land.

  “We’re losing the light,” Noah said.

  “We are,” Josh acknowledged, stopping beside a fir tree. He stared up at it.

  Noah turned to Caroline. Her lips were pressed together, her eyes darting to the blackberry vines and briar they’d been picking their way through for the past hour.

  “You can admire my trees another time,” Noah said. “But let’s keep moving through this section. I’m pretty damn sure I’m the only one who has been crazy enough to walk through this overgrown area recently.”

  “Were you limbing last time you came through?” Josh asked, running his hand up the trunk.

  “No, I haven’t had a lot of spare time to remove branches and care for the damn trees. I was doing the same thing we’re doing now only in the dead of night,” he said. “Trust me, it’s easier with the light. So why don’t we keep walking while you lecture me on how to take care of my forest.” He took a step toward Caroline.

  “Someone’s been climbing this tree with spiked boots.” Josh continued to run his hand over the bark as he lifted his gaze to the tree’s top. “And if you weren’t limbing . . .”

  “Hell.” Noah marched over and stared at the tree trunk. He could see the marks from the spiked boots loggers wore to climb up and cut off the lower branches.

  “Wait, he’s been hiding in the trees?” Caroline said, scrambling to join them and turning her gaze skyward.

  “He’s not there now,” Noah said. “We’d see him hanging from—­”

  Boom!

  Noah grabbed Caroline and pulled her to the ground at the base of the tree. And Josh joined them, his movements lacking the all-­hell’s-­breaking-­loose panic Noah and Caroline carried with them like a souvenir of their last deployment.

  “Not exactly hunting season right now,” Josh said softly even though Noah had a feeling the shot had been fired from a distance.

  “No, but someone’s borrowing my neighbor’s deer stand. The same damn one my dad fell from and broke his leg,” Noah said, sitting up with his back against the tree Dustin had probably climbed at some point in the last few weeks. “I checked it out about a week ago. It was empty then.”

  “Not anymore,” Caroline said. But she didn’t appear nearly as shaken by the shot as the pictures. If Noah had to guess, he’d say she felt more comfortable with the certainty. Dustin was out there, in a stand positioned in a tree, and he was shooting at them. And it was a damn good thing the stand was far from their position. Noah only knew one marksman who could make that shot. Lena. But still, he wasn’t willing to stand up.

  “If we know where he is, let’s go get him,” Caroline said, pushing off the ground.

  Noah pulled her back. “I don’t think we should move closer. Most ­people can’t make a shot at this distance, but Dustin’s stupid enough to try.”

  “Or it was a warning,” Caroline said, sinking back to the ground.

  “Why would he reveal himself?” Josh asked.

  “He wouldn’t,” Noah said flatly. “But if we approach the stand, we’ll be within range. I think he’s hoping we’ll come closer.”

 
“So what’s the plan?” Josh patted the ground. “Camp here?”

  Noah shook his head. “We’ll go back the way we came. After dark.” Because if they went the other way—­toward the man hunting them—­Noah couldn’t guarantee Caroline’s safety.

  He stared out into the approaching darkness. For the first time in weeks, he was glad Josie was in Germany. But when she returned, how the hell was he going to keep her away from the insane ex-­marine with the hunting rifle?

  Chapter Twenty

  “HOW ARE THE kittens?”

  Josie had spent the last leg of her journey imagining what she would say when she walked through security at the Portland airport and into Noah’s arms. I’ve missed you. I want you. I think I’m falling in love with you. But she’d taken one look at his tired face, the way he’d crossed his arms in front of his chest, and she’d gone with Plan B—­how are the freaking kittens.

  “Getting bigger every day. Caroline has been feeding them,” Noah said, turning away from her and leading the way into the terminal. “Did you check a bag?”

  She nodded and followed him onto the escalator leading down to the carousels. “How is Big Buck’s best dishwasher?”

  “She’s on edge,” he said flatly. “We had a scare a ­couple of weeks ago. The guy who’s after her made it damn hard to ignore his presence.”

  She listened as he explained about the shot in the woods and the fact that the man who’d raped Caroline had vanished again after that.

  “You should go to the police,” she said. “My dad could help. We could explain about Caroline.”

  “Trust me, I’ve thought about it. But your dad wouldn’t be doing his job if he didn’t turn her in, Josie. And I can’t send her back. She’ll either end up in a cell or forced to work alongside men who blame her for ending Dustin’s career. They’ll harass her or worse.” He opened the passenger side door and waited for her to climb in. “So please don’t say anything to your father.”

  “I won’t,” she promised once he’d joined her in the cab of the truck.