“Not bloody likely,” he muttered, using an expression he’d learned from British counterparts. It was, he felt, appropriate at the moment as he tried to tamp down that sexual electricity that still hovered in the air. She looked so damn...intriguing. He sensed there was fire under that proper facade. He saw flashes of it in her eyes.
He reminded himself that she was married. And, God help him, a mayor. He’d never liked authority of any kind. Even in the army, he’d been a maverick and probably wouldn’t have lasted long if an officer hadn’t seen his independence as something that could be useful in Special Forces.
Mayor Eve Douglas was the last thing he needed.
He turned and limped inside, leaving her standing there.
But despite himself, he watched her through the newly cleaned window as she walked, ramrod straight, toward an elderly pickup truck. She stepped gracefully into the truck, not an easy thing to do.
A mud-splattered pickup truck? The mayor? Of course, it was a small town, but...
None of his business. He turned away. He tried to channel the persisting need into anger. Anger came easily these days. Right now, it was all he had to hold on to.
He went into his bedroom, where Amos still lay under the bed. The dog hadn’t even moved to see who was outside. A year ago, he would have been at full alert, eager and ready to inspect the newcomer.
The two of them were aliens in this place. They were military castoffs, and neither of them knew how to adapt. Josh lowered himself to the floor and sat next to the dog. He put his hand on Amos’s back and rubbed it. He knew it would be plain hell getting up, but right now he figured they needed each other.
“What in the hell are we doing here?” he whispered.
* * *
AFTER LEAVING MR. Manning’s property, Eve sat in her pickup for a while. Waiting...for what? Then she saw movement inside the cabin. Drat, what was she doing? She started the truck and drove out onto Lake Road, resisting the temptation to look back. One thing for sure, Josh Manning was no squatter. From the look of him, and what little she’d seen of the cabin, he’d been working like a demon.
She wasn’t sure what else he was. Her hand still burned from his touch, and her heart was hammering. She couldn’t remember that ever happening before. She was just flustered, she assured herself. He’d been rude and abrupt and...overwhelming.
She saw him now as he’d stood whacking at weeds, the ridges of his muscles straining under the damp T-shirt that clung to him, his sandy hair uncombed. There had been something elemental about him, something untamed and restless, and yet she’d also sensed control when he went to the trouble to harness it.
His face, partially covered with a beard the color of gold, was hawklike with guarded emerald-green eyes that assessed her as if she was prey. She completely understood why June had been frightened. He had nearly apologized about June, but not quite. It was probably as much of an apology as anyone would receive.
But she hadn’t been frightened. Stunned at her body’s reactions to him, yes, but physically afraid? No.
And why did she still ache inside? She hadn’t been attracted to another man since Russ died four years earlier, nor even before that. And this man was the polar opposite of her husband. Russ had been her best friend as well as lover: warm and funny and very easy to love. He’d been everyone’s big brother, and his students adored him. This man was a hostile loner. And a rather unkempt one at that.
When she reached the road, she drove past a few houses, then stopped the truck. She tried to regain her composure. It wasn’t easy. She’d never been so affected by a man, and it didn’t make sense. It certainly wasn’t because she was lonely. Although she missed Russ with all her heart, she had a good life with her son, Nick, their small ranch and her job.
Still, she couldn’t deny the attraction that had streaked between them when he had taken her hand and steadied her. So much strength there.
Nonsense. She didn’t believe in looks across a crowded room...or a weed patch. And it wasn’t that she didn’t have enough problems already.
She realized she hadn’t seen the dog Marilyn had mentioned. And it was strange that a large dog would not have barked at a stranger’s presence. But Joshua Manning knew the law, had obviously checked into it, and she had no legal reason to demand anything. Especially with only Marilyn’s vivid imagination to go on.
Go. Just leave. She turned the key in the ignition, but her thoughts went back to when he’d mentioned Dave Hannity. There had been pain in his eyes. It had been there only for the briefest of seconds, but in that time she’d felt its impact.
He hadn’t said so, but she was sure he’d been in the service. That was probably why he limped. There was still pain in that leg. She’d seen that, too. She’d seen it in Russ when he’d been recovering from a football injury to his knee, the one that had ended his career as a college quarterback.
She wanted to look back, but she was too far away now. Her world had just been rocked, and she didn’t know why or how. She only knew she had to stay away from him. He aroused feelings she didn’t want or need. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel until they hurt. Then she drove toward the main road. Going to the office.
To a safe place.
CHAPTER THREE
WHEN EVE ARRIVED at the office, Tom was waiting for her. Although it was only midmorning, he looked tired.
His appearance worried her. “Should you be here?”
“I’m going crazy at home,” he said. “Maggie’s hovering around like I’m an invalid. Hell, Eve, I’m not ready for a rocking chair. Two days of doing nothing, and I’m going nuts. Besides, I’m still chief until you replace me.”
Eve was torn. Tom had been her father’s close friend for years, and as a detective with the county sheriff’s department had investigated his murder three years ago. A native of Covenant Falls, he had taken her father’s place as police chief after the funeral and hoped to find her father’s murderers, but he hadn’t. She knew he still fretted about that.
In those three years, he’d become even more a member of her family, rooting for Nick at Little League games, serving as her sounding board and being part of every family celebration. He was someone she didn’t want to lose. Couldn’t lose. But she also knew him well enough to realize he would not do well sitting at home.
“You look a bit flushed yourself,” he said. “Are you and Nick all right?”
She feared the flush was deepening. “Guess it’s from running around this morning. And Nick is fine. Only two more weeks of school, then I’ll be worrying all day long. I can’t keep him off that bike.”
“Your dad used to say the same about you.”
She didn’t have an answer for that.
He changed the subject. “I hear you couldn’t agree on a replacement for me.”
She sighed. The meeting yesterday had been contentious. One of the deputies vying for the job was the nephew of the council president. “In the first place, no one could replace you. But then Al, Ed and Nancy want Sam. I don’t think he’s ready. He’s a little too fast to assume the worst.” She didn’t add that her husband had coached Sam Clark on the Covenant Falls High football team and thought him a bully.
“I agree,” Tom said. “He has seniority over the other officers, but I purposely didn’t promote him to sergeant because I question his judgment.” He sighed heavily. “I think your father hired him for the same reason you have to keep him. You need Al’s support for your budget, and he controls three of the five votes on the council. Or, I should say, owns them. I could keep Sam under control, but if we can’t find someone too strong for the council to ignore, you’ll have a fight on your hands.”
Eve knew he was right. “You just have to find me that person at a salary we can pay. We couldn’t afford you if you didn’t have the county retirement.”
&n
bsp; Tom shrugged. “You don’t get paid nearly enough for all the work you do. Grady Dillard just sat in that chair and drank with his cronies. You’ve put life back in Covenant Falls.”
“Our newest resident isn’t very impressed.” The words escaped before she could stop them. Why did Joshua Manning linger in her head?
Linger? No, dominate. It was annoying. Confounding. Maddening.
Tom raised an eyebrow and nearly looked like the man he’d been before all the heart attacks. “The guy at the Hannity place?”
“You’ve heard?”
“Marilyn called me, too. I don’t take her too seriously.” His face hardened. “Also had a burglary call this morning. That’s why I came in.”
“Where?”
“Maude’s. Someone broke into her diner last night. Took the late-night cash. About three hundred dollars or so, she said.”
Eve groaned. If she hadn’t stopped at the Hannity place, she would have heard the news sooner. The amount wasn’t much to a lot of people, but it was to Maude. And it was the first burglary in months. There had been vandalism in some of the cabins around the lake, but nothing more than that. Not in the past year.
“Could be teenagers,” Tom said, “but most of the locals are good kids.”
She suddenly knew who would be blamed. “Any suspects?”
He shrugged. “Not yet, but rumors are circulating, probably helped by Sam. He wants to talk to the new guy. I said no. I wanted to talk to you first.”
“His name is Joshua Manning, and I talked to him this morning. He didn’t say much, except he inherited the cabin from David Hannity, and that David had been in the army. I had the impression he’s ex-military, too, although he didn’t say so. He’s fixing up the place. I can’t see him breaking into a restaurant for a few hundred dollars.”
“You have good instincts, Eve, but if you want, I’ll quietly check him out.”
Eve hesitated. She was reluctant to invade the man’s privacy, and if it wasn’t for the burglary, she would have said no. But she knew how rumors spread in town. Too many would put together the arrival of an unfriendly and admittedly scruffy-looking resident with the first major crime of the year. Better to quash them fast.
“You said you thought he was former military. Why?” Tom was a Vietnam veteran, and she knew he had a soft spot for other present and former servicemen.
She shrugged. Casually, she hoped. “He’s not very talkative. In fact, he avoided saying much of anything about himself. Said it was none of my business, but everything points to it.”
Tom looked quizzical. “He said that to you, and you didn’t bash him?”
“Well, he was right. It really wasn’t my business, and bashing wouldn’t be very becoming of a mayor, would it?” She decided to change the subject. “But he does have a pronounced limp and a fairly recent scar on his face. It follows that he served with David.”
“Or he’s a relative,” Tom said. “Didn’t I tell you not to take things for granted?”
Something else she had learned as mayor. She nodded. “That could be.” She winced at the memory of how Joshua Manning had controlled the conversation and how completely inept she’d felt. She hated that.
Not to mention that she still felt all tingly inside when she thought about him. That was unacceptable.
“Want me to pay a visit?”
“I think he’s had enough of visits. Why don’t you just check with the attorney who handled the probate? You know everyone in this county. And run a quick background check. That should satisfy Sam.” She didn’t like the idea of having to satisfy Sam, but she knew him well enough to realize he might go snooping on his own. Especially if Tom wasn’t around to control him.
Tom nodded. “I’ll do that.”
“I don’t want you to do too much.”
“Just a few phone calls. I swear.”
“If you feel...”
“I’ll call the doc,” he replied.
She hesitated, worried about burdening him more, then said, “And while you’re at it, could you find out what happened to Dave Hannity? Russ used to run with him, and I would like to know. His disappearance was one of the town’s big mysteries after his uncle drowned.”
“Will do. I’m kinda interested myself.”
“Maggie’s not going to be happy about you sticking around here,” Eve said, stating the obvious.
“I’ll take it easy. I’ll also put out the word to some of my friends across the state that we’re looking for a police chief. Maybe someone who wants a second career in a nice quiet town will turn up. Having a good mayor is another benefit.”
“I’ll miss you around here,” Eve said, hugging him.
“I’ll be around. I don’t plan to kick the bucket yet. I sent Sam out to Maude’s. Maybe he can find something. At least it will keep him busy and out of Manning’s way.” He didn’t sound hopeful as he rose slowly from the chair and walked out without his usual bounce.
She closed her eyes for a moment. She wasn’t sure she should have encouraged him to make a few calls or delay his retirement even for a short time. But Tom was like an old warhorse, and she couldn’t help but think he would live longer if he had a purpose.
She looked at the pile of papers on her desk. She had to work on the budget for the next fiscal year. Too little money. Too many needs. And in the current economy, a tax increase was out of the question. Her people were all struggling. A little juggling here, a small cut there. She just wished that Joshua Manning’s face didn’t keep intruding on the pages.
* * *
AFTER THE MAYOR left, Josh refreshed his coffee and fixed a bowl of cereal for both Amos and himself.
He had an appointment in an hour with the only veterinarian in the area. She’d already been contacted by the Lackland AFB veterinarian and had been faxed Amos’s records, but Josh wanted to see her, take her measure. Hopefully, she might have some suggestions to help Amos.
He took a shower to cool the heat that still bedeviled him after his encounter with the mayor. A cold one. Then a hot one. After some repairs, the hot water heater was one of the few things that actually worked in the cabin. Then he dressed in a clean pair of jeans and soft cotton shirt.
He thought about shaving, then decided against it. He coaxed Amos out to his Jeep, but once in the passenger side the dog hopped back out and huddled next to the door. His entire body trembled, and Josh ached looking at him.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll try to talk her into coming out here.” He opened the front door and Amos headed for the bedroom and safety under the bed.
It was just as well. He had other errands to run. He needed paint for the walls and boards for the porch, as well as nails, screws and more large trash bags.
His first stop was to the vet. When he walked in, a bell jingled and a feminine voice from the back told him to take a seat.
He was too restless to sit. He walked around the office and peered at the bulletin board. Horses for sale. A lost dog. Puppies up for adoption. Advertisements for tick and flea medicine. After several minutes, an elderly woman holding an equally elderly poodle came out of the back.
He opened the door for her, got a “thank you, young man” for his effort.
“Hi,” said a voice behind him. He turned around and faced an attractive woman in jeans and a white coat. “I’m Stephanie Phillips. Just call me Stephanie. You must be Mr. Manning.” She looked around. “Where’s Amos?”
“He objected,” Josh said. “He started shaking, and I...wondered whether you could come out to the cabin.” He hesitated, then added, “He was a basket case when I picked him up at Lackland and during the drive here. The only place he seems to feel even a little safe is the cabin. I understand the vets at the dog training center at Lackland sent you his records.”
“They did. Extreme anxiet
y,” she said. “Physically healthy, but Amos wouldn’t respond to any trainers. Practically goes over the fence when there’s lightning. Rest of the time huddles in the safest place he can find.”
He nodded. “That’s about it. I can take him for short walks at night when there’s no traffic. Most of the time he stays under my bed.”
“Appetite?”
“He eats enough to stay alive and that’s about it. This from a dog who used to gobble food like it was his last meal.”
“You knew him before...?”
He nodded. “His handler was in my unit.”
“Was?”
“He was killed ten months ago.” It hurt like hell to talk about it, but talk he must. For Amos. “He was...close to his handler. Because we were often on the move and there weren’t always kennels, Amos usually slept near him. Even when there were kennels, Dave found a way to keep Amos at his side.”
She waited for him to say more. He was reluctant, but he knew he had to explain everything. That’s all that matters now. The promise. “I was wounded, and Amos’s handler was killed in the same engagement. I was sent to a hospital, but I heard from other members of the team that Amos had been sent to Lackland. Nearly starved to death.”
“But he does respond to you?”
“Barely. Sometimes.”
“After Lackland contacted me,” she said, “I did some research on canine PTSD. It’s not uncommon. I imagine it’s worse when the handler is killed. Dogs grieve, too.” She paused, then said, “I can come over in the morning. I have a mare about to foal this afternoon, and I’m not sure how long it will take.”
He nodded. “I’ll be at the cabin all day.” He gave her his cell number, only the third person to have it. His shrink at the military hospital was one—he’d promised—and the other was Dave’s attorney.
“I look forward to meeting Amos. I’ve never treated a military dog.”
“One other thing. I would appreciate you not speaking to anyone in town about Amos’s condition. People might think he’s dangerous. He’s not. I think it’s more that he’s missing his...handler. Amos wasn’t with us the day Dave died. As far as he knows, he was abandoned.”
The Soldier's Promise Page 3