Heart of a SEAL

by Dixie Lee Brown

  Luke and Jen laughed conspiratorially, and Sally wondered if she should have been paying attention. Oh well. Let them plan. She hadn’t completely wrapped her head around his declaration of love yet, but knowing how much he cared about her daughter made her heart go all soft and gooey. Though she might be unsure of many things, without a doubt Luke would protect Jen with his life.

  Signaling the end of the conversation, Luke swung his door open. “Ready? Oh, one more thing.” He looked directly at Sally this time. “So we don’t draw attention to ourselves inside by arguing, let’s get this settled right now. Pick out everything you need for two or three days. There’ll be a washer and dryer at my friend’s place.” He stopped abruptly.

  “Why would we argue about that?” Sally waited for the rest of his speech.

  “We wouldn’t. After you’ve got what you want, give it to me.” Luke tensed, apparently in anticipation of her argument, and suddenly she understood what he was trying to say.

  She wagged her head from side to side. “You’re not paying for our things, Luke. I have a credit card because you were kind enough to rescue my wallet. I’ve got it covered.” His offer was generous, but being in debt to someone was no way to maintain a relationship. She pulled the handle and opened her door.

  Luke’s hand landed on her knee, and his frown was stern as his intent gaze pinned her to the seat. “This isn’t about my possessive nature, although I admit I have one, and it’s not about your pride. If this Brennan guy happens to have connections, he may be able to trace your credit card activity. And for damn sure Lambert can. If you think it’s necessary, you can pay me back later any way you’d like, but for right now, I pay the bills.” He paused and the hint of a smile appeared. “Now, come on. This’ll be fun.” He stepped out, leaving Sally no one to hear her rebuttal.

  Okay. He’s probably right. And he did say I can pay him back…any way I want. Sally felt only a little guilty for the erotic ideas that popped into her head. Pushing the door open, she slid down, carefully holding the hem of her shirt, and turned to catch Jen as she jumped off the seat.

  Though Sally had been hoping for a Target or a Walmart, the mall held neither. It did, however, have everything they needed, as long as they were willing to pay the price. She and Jen had absolutely nothing except the clothes they’d been sleeping in when the fire broke out, so she was dismayed by the staggering amount of stuff they needed. Besides pants, shirts, underwear, a pair of shorts for Jen, and a bra for her, jackets, shampoo, a hairbrush, a new charger for her cell phone—everything right down to feminine hygiene products and toothbrushes. When they’d tried on their finds, at Luke’s insistence, replacing his oversized garments with jeans and long-sleeved pullovers, and piled their selections on the counter in front of an excited salesclerk, he made her go back for lotion and cologne.

  “Women like lotion,” he’d said, his easy smile assuaging her guilt somewhat. After a few minutes, they’d both returned to the counter at the same time. Glancing toward Jen, where she was peering into the jewelry case, Luke tossed down a couple of shirts, a pair of jeans and an extra-large package of condoms. Sally was sure her face turned candy-apple red even while trying to contain her laughter at his snarky grin.

  She was about to declare they were finished when he grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the apparel aisles, calling to her daughter over his shoulder. “Jen, come help us pick out something for your mom to wear out on a date.”

  Sally tried to extricate her hand, overly conscious of the cost of the articles already littering the counter. Luke was unrelenting, however, tugging her along until they reached a rack of skirts and dresses. He started sliding the hangers along the rack, looking at each new selection as it was revealed.

  Sally shook her head and stepped between him and the row of apparel. “I’ll take it from here, Harding.”

  He chuckled. “Whatever you say, sunshine.” A wink made his agreement seem suggestive—or was that just her overactive imagination? “Why don’t you try something on, and meanwhile, I’ll take Jen to the arcade next door. I’ll leave you my card and tell the clerk you’re authorized to use it, although something tells me she’s looking forward to a big commission and wouldn’t do anything to kill this sale.” Luke dug his credit card from his wallet and handed it to Sally. “Meet us at the arcade when you’re done. We’ll come back and get the bags later.”

  After Jen and Luke left, Sally found a skirt she liked and wandered the store searching for an appropriate top. He was spoiling her. What’s more, he seemed to be enjoying himself. Far be it from her not to let him. It might take her forever to repay him, but maybe there was merit to that idea. Only time would tell.

  Sally picked two silk blouses, draped them over her arm, and followed the short hallway toward the back until she came to the dressing rooms. She closed the door behind her and hung the articles carefully on pegs against the wall before she started to undo her belt.

  A sudden staccato knock startled her. “Occupied,” she said as she reached toward the button to lock the door. Not quickly enough, however. The door flew inward. Sally flung herself back to keep from being hit by the approaching plywood on hinges. She lost her balance and slammed into the wall behind her, headfirst with mind-numbing force. Dazed, her legs gave out, and she slid to the floor with a thump.

  Sally shook her head and tried to focus on the looming figure who appeared in the opening where the door had been, but her vision blurred with the stabbing pain behind her eyes. It was obviously not Luke, so that left few possibilities in her mind. Only one man she knew of was looking for her. Only one trying to kill her. How in the hell had he found her?

  She forced her gaze upward to where the huge apparition’s face should have been. “Who are you and why are you here?” Damn. She couldn’t keep her voice from shaking. A couple more blinks and her fuzzy vision began to clear.

  “Sally, darlin’, I’m here to thank you for the scintillating night you so graciously arranged for me.”

  She recognized that voice. Nothing about its scornful tone sounded grateful in the least. Squeezing her temples, she dragged her gaze back to his face, and this time she saw enough.

  It was ex-boss and lousy date, Emmett Purnell.

  Chapter Ten

  Sally leaned her head gingerly against the wall and squeezed her eyes closed. With her thoughts scattered in a dozen directions and her head throbbing with every beat of her runaway heart, she couldn’t come up with one good scenario for Emmett forcing his way into her dressing room. Like there could be a good reason.

  The man had slapped her around last night because she refused to become his whore. She sported black and blue bruises on her right jaw and cheekbone as proof he wasn’t a nice man. He’d obviously been hauled into the sheriff’s office in Huntington and grilled about the explosion that destroyed her house. That had to be what he meant by thanking her for the evening she’d arranged. This time his sarcasm wasn’t lost on her.

  He intended to thank her, all right, no doubt with bodily harm. If he’d gone to all the trouble of tracking her down hundreds of miles away from home, he was obviously determined to have his pound of flesh. She struggled to swallow around the lump in her throat. Was he going to kill her?

  Sally peeped through nearly closed eyelids when Emmett stepped farther into the tiny room and shoved the door closed.

  “I don’t appreciate being accused of arson, unlawful use of explosives and attempted murder by some Podunk sheriff,” he growled, pacing in a tight circle, clearly agitated.

  As unobtrusively as possible, she peered under the partial walls that separated her cubicle from the other dressing rooms. No other feet in sight. No sounds except muffled voices from the front of the store. It wouldn’t do any good to scream. The young salesclerk would be more hindrance than help. Luke would be next door by now. Even if he was out front, attracting his attention would probably also bring Jen, and
Sally would change her mind and gladly become Emmett Purnell’s sex slave rather than endanger her little girl.

  Though her head was spinning, she got the impression he was waiting for her to say something. What did he expect? An apology? An excuse? The pounding inside her skull precluded any formal speech. Her gaze drifted back to the gap between the floor and the cubicle wall. It had to be at least twelve inches. She could fit through—though probably not gracefully.

  Emmett pulled a short stool from the corner, positioned it in front of the door and dropped onto it, raking one hand across the back of his neck and then over his face. Unexpectedly, he sighed and fixed his gaze on her again.

  Blinking her blurry vision into focus, Sally got her first good look at his face and stared in astonishment. “What happened to you?” Yellowish purple bruises and cuts covered him from chin to forehead. His lips were torn in at least three places. Knotted bruises dotted his jaw. On closer inspection, she noticed he held his left arm tight to his side, and he bent slightly at the waist, the other arm cradling his ribs. The man had clearly been beaten unmercifully, and she had a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach it had something to do with her.

  “What happened?” she repeated, more forcefully this time.

  Of all things…Emmett laughed, sounding almost embarrassed. “As pissed off as I was at you, that’s nothing compared to the whoop-ass I’m gonna give the old geezer who ambushed me outside the sheriff’s office this morning.”

  Wait a minute. Was pissed off? Did that mean he was over being upset with her?

  Sally was grasping at straws. “You were mugged?” She couldn’t help but wince at the ugly bruises and welts distorting his face.

  “Not exactly. This was personal. The old man had a couple of thugs with him so he didn’t have to get his hands dirty.” Emmett’s swollen lips gave him a lisp, but his anger and scorn came through loud and clear.

  Sally shifted nervously, trying to gauge whether she could roll out of her cubicle into the next, jump to her feet and escape before Emmett moved his stool from in front of the door, caught up to her and choked her to death in a fit of rage. The odds weren’t in her favor. Glancing in his direction, she saw that he was watching her intently…expectantly.

  “Why are you here? You don’t think I had anything to do with the attack, do you?” She recoiled at the idea.

  “I came to find you, but damned if I know why I bothered.” Emmett stared accusingly, then huffed a breath as though he couldn’t believe he was sitting across from her in a tiny women’s dressing room.

  Join the club, buddy.

  His gaze locked on hers. “The man that did this was looking for you, darlin’. I guess he thought I’d know where you were. Apparently, he doesn’t know about your boyfriend with the dog tags…yet, but you might want to give—Harding, is it?—a heads-up.”

  Oh God. Clive Brennan wouldn’t think twice about doing that kind of damage to another human being if he thought it would gain him the answers he wanted. Instinctively, she shuttered her expression and feigned ignorance. “Looking for me? Who was he?”

  Emmett slammed his knuckles against the wall, and Sally jumped. “Don’t test my patience, woman. I took this beating because the old man didn’t believe me when I told him I knew nothing about a fire or where you’d disappeared to, but he made it crystal clear it was very important he find you. Call me suspicious, but I didn’t get a good vibe for why he wanted you.” He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “I might have had too much to drink last night and I might have acted like a jerk. I’m not apologizing, mind you. It is what it is, but if he’s looking for you…well, I decided I’d find you first.”

  Surprise cracked the walls she’d erected around herself. “You came to warn me?”

  “Don’t look so shocked. I have my moments. Are you going to tell me who the son of a bitch is?”

  A ghost of a smile threatened, and Sally ducked her head until she wiped it away. Under the cubicle door, she spotted a pair of military boots two or three feet away. Motionless and silent, Luke waited, no doubt listening to every word. She should have known. Relief surged through her, and she turned her gaze back to Emmett so he wouldn’t become curious about why she was staring.

  “What did he look like?”

  “Late sixties, gray hair, glasses, five-ten or so, thin, wore a dark trench coat. The two ballbusters he had with him were hard-core. Spoke with heavy accents. Russian, I think.”

  Sally nodded once. There didn’t seem to be any reason to lie. This would be the second time in a matter of hours she’d spoken aloud the truth she’d kept buried for over ten years, and the words still came hard. “His name is Clive Brennan. It’s possible he’s a spy—I’m not sure. What I know is, he murdered a family in Mississippi years ago, and I testified against him. He went to prison and the feds put me in my own glass cage—witness protection. Clive was released three months ago. I’d hoped he would get on with his life and forget about me.” She hadn’t been totally honest with Luke when she told him, and she wasn’t about to confide her most shameful secret to Emmett—that Clive was her father and not likely to ever forget her betrayal.

  Emmett grunted. “Apparently, he still wants something from you—damn bad. Like I said…it seems personal. My advice is to leave the state. Get as far away as you can. Go somewhere he’d never think to look for you. Maybe he’ll give up.”

  Sally’s gaze flicked over his mutilated face. “I’m sorry you got caught up in this, Emmett. Sorry you had to come all this way. How did you find us anyway?”

  “Once I found out your friend Luke was Garrett Harding’s brother and that Garrett’s Jeep wasn’t anywhere around Cougar Ridge, I contacted a few friends of mine and put out the word. Didn’t take them long to spot the vehicle, and I flew one of the company helos up. Then I just waited for Harding to leave you alone. I was beginning to think he’d never let loose of you.”

  “It won’t happen again.” Luke’s sudden addition to the conversation from outside the dressing room startled Sally, even though she’d known he was close by.

  The anger seemed to have left Emmett’s face as they’d talked, but now that Luke stood outside the door, Sally studied Emmett carefully for any sign of the short fuse she’d come to know.

  “Well, Harding, I was wondering how long you’d leave us unattended.” Emmett seemed to enjoy trying to rile him.

  Luke’s boots moved closer to the door, and he tapped on the wall with something hard. “You want to step out here, or should I come in?”

  “Put your gun away, Harding. I’m not armed.” Emmett unfolded his tall frame, shoved the stool out of the way and offered his hand to Sally.

  She hesitated before shrugging and allowing him to help her up. She still didn’t trust him completely—probably never would—but she could believe he was single-minded enough to chase her down and warn her if he thought doing so would somehow exact revenge from the man responsible for beating the tar out of him. Mostly, though, if Emmett’s intention had been to harm her, he’d had ample opportunity. He moved aside, and she pulled the door open and stepped out.

  Luke caught her hand and tugged her to the side, bringing his firearm to bear on Emmett. “Are you all right, babe?” Luke’s tortured eyes swept over her, worry, impatience and relief cascading across his face.

  “I’m fine, mostly.” She rubbed the tender spot on the back of her head. “Not his fault,” she quickly added when Luke scowled. “Just my own clumsiness.”

  Luke squeezed her hand and then focused on Emmett. “Turn around and put your hands against the wall.”

  Emmett smiled coldly. “I told you I wasn’t armed.”

  “Humor me.”

  Emmett stared at Luke as the seconds stretched, then suddenly laughed. “I knew I liked you, Harding. You remind me of me.” He turned, leaned his hands against the wall and spread his legs.

>   “High praise indeed.” Luke tucked his weapon in his belt and quickly searched the man.

  “Luke, where’s Jen?” Sally’s voice was a strained whisper, unable to believe it’d taken her so long to miss her daughter’s presence.

  “Don’t worry. She’s out front with Maryanne, the salesclerk. I promised to double her commission if she kept Jen occupied for a few minutes.”

  Emmett swung around and glanced from Luke to Sally. “Satisfied?”

  “More like surprised. You don’t strike me as the type who travels without a bodyguard or a weapon.” Luke pushed Sally toward the front of the store. “Go find Jen. I want a word with your friend here.”

  Emmett’s grin was cocky. “This should be good.”

  Sally paused, looking between the two belligerent men. “Luke, you heard why he came, right? To warn us?”

  Luke nodded, without taking his eyes off Emmett. “That’s why he’s still alive.”

  A gruff chuckle rumbled from Emmett’s throat. “Darlin’, go get your kid. We knights have some jousting to do.”

  Sally snorted scornfully. Have at it, then. She was too emotionally exhausted to care at the moment. Men with their wannabe balls of steel and their delicate egos—it would serve them right if their words dissolved into a free-for-all. As long as she…or Jen…didn’t have to watch. Leaving the skirt and blouses hanging in the dressing room, she turned abruptly and marched toward the front of the store.

  * * * *

  That was the third time in the last twenty minutes Sally had glanced into the back of the Jeep, obviously checking on Jen. Luke couldn’t decipher whether she was worried about Jen or just life in general. Every time he looked toward the little girl in the rearview mirror, she was intent on the new book Sally had bought for her after they’d left the department store.