Heart of a SEAL

by Dixie Lee Brown

  More unfamiliar faces appeared behind the first man, each yapping about something that seemed insignificant from Luke’s position. He wanted to shout at them to shut up, but apparently there was no longer a connection between his brain and his mouth. Not that there ever was much of one. Oh, great—now I get my sense of humor back.

  “Are you Petty Officer Second Class Luke Harding?” The man in battle gear knelt beside him.

  As hard as he tried, Luke couldn’t make a sound—or even nod his head. All he could do was stare until his eyes misted, and he squeezed his eyelids shut so he wouldn’t fucking humiliate himself.

  They know my name. Somebody knows who I am. Gratitude washed over him even as sorrow intruded into his momentary peace. Except for two short weeks, he could have celebrated with Ian.

  The warrior reached for Luke’s hand, gripping it firmly. “It’s okay, son. You stay with me. You hear me, sailor? That’s an order.” He leaned over Luke, and there was understanding in his eyes. “We’re here to get you home alive, and failure is not an option. You copy that?”

  Luke would have smiled if he could have. Did the guy know the phrase he uttered so effortlessly was the only thing holding Luke together?

  “Medic!” the man yelled over his shoulder, and two seconds later, another warrior stuck his head into Luke’s space.

  It was getting harder to breathe. His rasping and gurgling grew louder and filled his ears.

  “Chest wound.” The second man applied pressure, none too gently, to the hole in Luke’s torso.

  Jesus, you stupid SOB! Luke would have given anything for the strength to shove him away, while using every four-letter word he knew, but the most he could manage was a pained groan.

  “Hang in there.” The first man pulled Luke’s attention from the medic. “I know you’re in pain. The chopper will land any second, and we’ll get you onboard. Next stop—a nice, clean hospital and then…Stateside. We’re going to give you the good shit so you can sleep through this next part. You’re going to make it, sailor, so start planning your homecoming.”

  Sally. The image of the sweet brunette flashed in Luke’s mind. He barely felt the prick of the needle before his eyes fluttered closed on his last memory.

  * * * *

  This was definitely going down in history as one of the worst ideas she’d ever had. Sally pulled the door handle of Emmett’s Chevy Tahoe and jumped out before he’d even come to a full stop in front of her house.

  Dating her new boss—had she gone completely mad? Now that he’d proved to be a total dickhead, telling her exactly what he expected of his new office manager…outside of the office…she’d had no choice but to suggest he drop dead, using the f-word, which hadn’t crossed her lips since Jen was born. Of course, that meant she’d be pounding the pavement tomorrow, looking for a new job. Really? How could she have been so foolish? She needed that job too, especially after her old Explorer had finally died and she’d had to go into debt to get the needed repairs. If only she could have a do-over for…oh, say, the last year of her life.

  “We’re not done yet, Sally.” The SUV’s door slammed shut and hurried footsteps followed her up the path toward the lights that glowed from the windows of her rented home.

  Sally kept on walking. Her head throbbed as though someone had taken an electric drill to her temples. Please, God, don’t make me listen to anymore. She shivered and drew the lightweight pashmina tighter around her shoulders. What the hell was I thinking…wearing a short dress with no sleeves and strappy heels—at night in the middle of April—in the mountains—in Idaho? Strong fingers circled her arm and bit down as he tightened his grip, jerking her around, making her forget the chill in the air, and bringing her face-to-face with one irate man.

  She tried to shrug off his grasp, but he only pinched tighter. Sally swallowed an outraged cry, not willing to let him know he was hurting her. With composure she wasn’t exactly feeling, she met his angry gaze. “Look, you made me an offer—I refused. I have a daughter and she comes first. Even if I wanted to become your…slut…I’d never set that kind of example for Jen. Surely you can understand that.” Wary of the temper he’d exhibited on the way home, Sally refrained from telling him what a jackass she thought he was for pretending to be nice and normal until she agreed to go out with him. Then he’d hit her with a proposition that would have made a hooker blush.

  Emmett yanked her closer, sliding his arms around her waist. “Well, slut’s a little harsh, darlin’, but whatever you think. This has nothing to do with your kid. I’ll find someone to watch her twenty-four/seven because that’s how much of your time I’ll need.”

  Anger sparked at his callous disrespect for Jen. Who the hell did he think he was? Of course, she already knew the answer. He was Emmett Purnell, owner of the biggest logging operation in Idaho. He was loaded and charismatic when he wanted to be and didn’t like taking no for an answer. He’d smiled, turned on the charm and played the part of a gentleman until he’d managed to break through her barriers and she’d finally agreed to go out with him. Idiot, idiot, idiot!

  Sally shook her head firmly. “Not interested.”

  Emmett’s hands slid down to cup her bottom and pull her against him roughly. His intentions quickly became apparent as the hard ridge of his erection pressed into her stomach. Shock gave way to fury. She drew her arm back and swung, and her fist met his jaw with a resounding wallop.

  Clearly taken by surprise, his head snapped back, but he recovered quickly. His lips thinned to the point of nearly disappearing, and his eyes darkened to glittering black orbs. “I like it rough, baby.” He backhanded her so fast and hard, Sally hit the ground before she’d even registered the blow. The ringing in her ears made it impossible to hear…or think. A thousand needles pricked her cheek as the pain and taste of blood sent her to her knees, tying her stomach in knots.

  She scrambled to stand, but dizziness and the pain in her still-fisted hand hindered her efforts. She refused to scream—that was sure to bring Jen and her babysitter, Tiffany, out of the house. Sally couldn’t take the chance they might get hurt. Besides, screaming wasn’t really her style. The best she could do at the moment was crawl out of the reach of the enraged lunatic and hope he came to his senses.

  “Go ahead. Touch her again and see what happens, you fucking coward.” The suggestion, coming from the darkness behind Emmett’s vehicle and delivered with steel-edged composure, took her completely by surprise.

  Sally swung toward the new player, forgetting Emmett for the moment. The voice was all too familiar, stirring unwelcome memories. Eyes watering from the blow, she squinted to see the man standing in the darkness just beyond her yard.

  “Luke?” Sally staggered to her feet, clenching her teeth against the sick feeling that swirled in her stomach.

  It couldn’t be him. Not the man she’d fallen hard for before he deployed with his SEAL unit over a year ago. Not the man who’d refused to see her when she hurried to the hospital in Bethesda after hearing he’d been rescued from a terrorist prison. Rushing to his side because she’d thought they meant something to each other, she’d quickly learned the truth of the matter. His disregard had let her know, in no uncertain terms, that the feelings had been one-sided. That man had no reason—or right—to show up at her door.

  Sally searched the shadows near the street, where the voice had originated. When she finally made out his silhouette, her breath caught in her throat.

  Luke didn’t spare her a glance.

  “Who the hell are you?” Emmett turned to face him.

  “Does it matter?” Luke’s words contained a dangerous warning that Sally had never heard before.

  As he stepped from the shadow of the SUV, his military fatigues and the duffel he carried reminded her of the homeless people who’d camped on Elk Creek last fall. A knife in a leather sheath hung at his side. His face was etched with lines of exhaustion, and
he might have carried himself stiffly, but otherwise he was the same man she remembered. Light brown hair, longer and a bit more disheveled than the last time she’d seen him, always tempted her to run her fingers through it…even now.

  “I’ll need your name to give to the undertaker,” Emmett sneered.

  A humorless smile bared Luke’s teeth as he let the duffel drop to the ground. He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over the bag. A black Navy T-shirt stretched across his obscenely well-muscled torso, just the way Sally remembered. Dog tags rested against the contour of his chest. His thick arms hung relaxed at his sides, his nonchalance chilling by itself.

  “Okay, hotshot, you’ve got about a second to get the hell out of here if you want to avoid the beating I’ve got for you.” Emmett started toward him at a brisk walk.

  Despite the pain that had long since festered into bitterness, she couldn’t stand by and let Luke get hurt. He’d been wounded, seriously. He looked strong enough, but what if he wasn’t fully recovered? She glanced around for something to use as a weapon, but Jen had cleaned the yard last weekend and put all the garden tools away. Sally backed toward the house, unable to take her eyes off the disaster unfolding in her yard.

  Luke’s expression didn’t change. He remained motionless as Emmett approached.

  Her boss took a swing as soon as he was within arm’s length. Luke ducked, evading the blow effortlessly, then shoved Emmett against the front of his Tahoe. He held him there in some kind of a headlock until Emmett’s legs folded and he slid to the ground, apparently out cold. Luke opened the SUV’s door, yanked Emmett off the ground, as though the man who’d towered over her weighed nothing, and stuffed him into the front seat before slamming the door shut.

  Luke didn’t look at her until he’d retrieved his jacket. As he threaded his arms into the sleeves, he turned to run his gaze over her, his expression dark and brooding.

  “What are you doing here, Luke?” Sally’s leftover concern gave her voice a trace of impatience.

  “It’s good to see you too, sunshine.” He bent to retrieve his duffel before walking toward her. “Let’s go in the house. He’ll be out for a few minutes. I’m staying until he wakes up and takes off without causing any more trouble.” A gentle hand stroked her cheek, where Emmet’s blow had landed, and Luke’s piercing gaze dared her to argue. He turned her toward the house and fell in beside her, pressing his hand to the small of her back. “What the hell are you doing, hanging out with a guy like that anyway?”

  It wasn’t like she didn’t already know she’d screwed up. She didn’t need a lecture from this man, who’d picked today to show up on her doorstep after he’d cast her away like so much trash. Sally’s annoyance grew to irrational irritation. The nerve of him, even if he did rescue her from an uncomfortable, possibly dangerous situation. He had no right to judge her, despite his scent of freshly mown hay with a touch of cinnamon that teased her senses. She didn’t have to defend her actions to him…and yet she couldn’t keep from doing just that.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but he seemed like a decent-enough guy until he’d had a couple of drinks. This is Huntington—not LA or New York. The dating pool here includes anyone single, employed and under fifty.” Besides, who would have thought she couldn’t trust her boss—a respected local businessman? Well, he’s not my boss anymore. Did one have to give notice in situations like this?

  Luke stopped and turned to face her, his brow shooting upward toward the hair that cascaded over his forehead. Rich brown eyes held her gaze, and she was powerless to turn away. Finally, a smile broke free that reminded her of the man she’d known before he’d gone through hell. “Well…it’s good I’m here, then.” He winked before opening the door and pushing inside, leaving her standing on the steps with her mouth open.

  An instant later, the sound of Jen squealing and shouting Luke’s name was followed by small feet running across the room. The wonderfully deep and warm male laughter that spilled through the doorway brought Sally images of Luke catching her daughter in his arms and twirling her around, exactly as he’d done a year ago. Jen had gotten attached to Luke too, and it’d taken her a long time to accept the fact he wasn’t coming back. Now, her childish giggles, mixing with his masculine voice, meant trouble and heartache.

  Damned if I’ll let him hurt my daughter again.

  Hands shaking slightly, she covered her face and tried to get her head back in the game. Part of her struggled to understand the toll Luke’s ordeal as a POW had taken on him, and she wanted to weep for the man he’d been. Another part wanted nothing more than to hold him and let him know it didn’t matter—not to her. But the sting and humiliation of his rejection when he’d refused her entry to his hospital room hadn’t yet faded. Maybe she could have forgiven him if it had only affected her. Fortunately, Jen had remained in Huntington with friends, thereby spared the debacle at the hospital, but Luke’s actions had hurt her too. Neither of them were up for a repeat performance.

  Straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders, she took a moment to compose her expression. The coming confrontation would likely make her extremely unpopular with all parties concerned…but it couldn’t be helped.

  The sooner Luke left, the better for all of them.

  Chapter Two

  Holding that little girl while she squeezed his neck, giggled and repeated his name over and over, was just about the best feeling Luke had experienced in damn near forever. Close on the heels of that came the familiar guilt for sending Sally away when he’d returned to the States, wounded and broken, and for not making contact even after his health had stabilized…until now. He’d had his reasons, and they were good ones at the time, but the longer he stayed away, the harder it became to face her. He probably wouldn’t have mustered the courage to walk up to the door tonight either, if shitface out there hadn’t assaulted her in the front yard. Luke’s vision had blurred to red, his rage taking over when that lousy piece of garbage backhanded her. The dirtbag was lucky to be alive.

  No doubt Sally would run Luke off as soon as this crisis was over. He had no right to be here. As though he wouldn’t have been able to figure that out on his own, his brother had pressed the point home in their last phone conversation. Sally hadn’t been the only one pissed off by the way Luke had treated her. In addition, he was almost positive Sally wouldn’t appreciate him turning into a damn stalker in the last week since he’d been here, driving past her house, parking down the street, wanting to go back in time and somehow become good enough for her again.

  He hadn’t begun his journey with that intention. Leaving Dad’s house in Los Angeles ten days ago, his destination had been the home of Ian Mathias’s brother, Daniel, a few miles north of Sandpoint, Idaho. Daniel had come to the hospital in Bethesda four days in a row, just to sit and talk about his brother with the last man to see him alive. Luke felt a kinship with Daniel, identified with the honest grief he expressed for Ian. He reminded Luke of his own brother. Before he left, Daniel extracted a promise from Luke to visit him and his family—also a promise way overdue. Somehow, the route he’d chosen to travel took him close to Huntington and Sally’s home, and he’d lost sight of his goal, replaced by the need to make sure she was okay…and, if possible, make things right with her.

  Luke spun Jen around fast, the way she liked, then set her on her feet. Kneeling in front of her, he lifted one hand, inviting a high five. She obliged with a decisive smack.

  Sally entered the house quietly, closing the door and leaning against it, rather than moving farther into the room. A second later, she dropped her purse, keys and cell phone onto the top of a cabinet that rested along the wall to the right of the door.

  Tiffany, the teenage girl from next door, who he’d met a year ago, when she babysat for Sally, unfolded her legs from the couch and stood. She strode toward him, obviously with a purpose, and stuck out her hand. “Thank you for everything you did o
ver there, Mr. Harding.”

  Aw hell. He never knew what to do or say when good-intentioned civilians verbally expressed their gratitude. In most cases, they had no idea what he’d done—what he’d seen over there—or that he’d never again be the same person he’d been. Months with a shrink had brought him to the place he was now, knowing he might as well live with his memories because he sure as hell couldn’t change them.

  He grasped Tiffany’s hand, because that was what was expected of him, met her somber gray gaze and nodded. Thankfully, she turned away quickly, as they almost always did. Apparently, some sixth sense warned them they really didn’t want to know what went on in his head after the lights went out at night. Not that he didn’t appreciate Tiffany’s gesture, but the military had been his job, and he didn’t want or need accolades. After his captivity, everything had changed. His job had become staying alive—failure was not an option. Their image of a hero returning from war was all a lie, and it stuck in his craw.

  He forced his attention back to Jen, and the welcome in her eyes soothed his turmoil. “Hey, midget. How old are you now? You’re getting too big for me to twirl around like that.” Luke teased her with the nickname he’d tagged her with a year ago.

  As expected, she pointed her spindly finger at him and gave an exaggerated sigh. “I’m nine…too old for that name. Besides, it’s not PC.”

  Luke threw back his head and laughed. “PC, huh? I guess you have grown up since I’ve been gone. When I was your age, I didn’t know what politically correct meant.”

  The grin faded slowly, replaced with a tilt of her chin. “You were gone a long time, Luke. Were you mad at us?”

  His guilt mushroomed at the uncertainty in her small voice. He leaned toward her, moving his face close to hers. “No. Never. I was just detained longer than I’d planned. I came to see my two favorite girls as soon as I could.” Luke wasn’t sure how much to tell her. Apparently, Sally hadn’t discussed with her his time in captivity. And probably not about being turned away at the door to his hospital room either.