by Kat Cantrell
Now that they were here? Nothing like Caleb had envisioned. But that didn’t make it bad, did it? “What were you expecting, Marchande? A parade?”
“Non, mon frère.” Tristan slid a hand across the smooth strands of hair at his temple as if searching for strays that had dared escape from his careful topknot. He was definitely the only SEAL in existence who could pull off a stubby ponytail with such flair. “But maybe a little more of a hint that we made the right move. Otherwise, laissez le bon temps rouler.”
“Cut the French, Le Torch,” Hudson said, hauling out Tristan’s SEAL nickname because he knew the other man hated it, mostly due to the fact that it wasn’t intended as a homage to his skill with burning stuff. “It makes you sound like a pimp.”
“Yes, mother.” Tristan snickered. “You’re just jealous that you don’t speak it. Maybe you should find a French girlfriend to teach you some stuff, and then you’ll know what I’m saying.”
“Or use Google translate like the rest of us,” Isaiah offered helpfully, earning an elbow to his ribs courtesy of Hudson, who had obviously pulled his punch or Isaiah would have a lung puncture right about now.
“All of you shut it,” Caleb said mildly, long used to the bickering among the guys when they didn’t have enough to occupy their attention.
They instantly stopped talking, because they still followed him no matter what, for whatever reason. Sure, once upon a time he’d taken his platoon commander’s suggestion to build a small strike team—and they’d been light, fast, and efficient on countless ops—but that had been before. He’d lost the right to lead anyone much farther than to the bathroom.
Caleb hadn’t expected everyone to come with him to Texas when he’d dropped the idea on them. But they all had, despite the implied lunacy of driving cross-country to help the stranger who had been penning letters to the five SEALs regularly during their last deployment.
Except Serenity Force wasn’t a stranger. Maybe they’d never met in person, but he knew her well from her many colorful letters. They’d connected via the pages they’d exchanged. She was more like a surrogate mom, and in a lot of ways, Caleb owed her. She’d motivated him to get off his butt and fight for his future when the Navy had discharged all five SEALs without fanfare or apology.
He’d wanted to crawl in a hole, pretend he was still a SEAL, put off the rest of his life. Serenity had offered him an alternative, a place for his team to get back on their feet. Granted, she didn’t yet realize that her comments about threats toward the town she loved had spurred him to pack up and drive to her rescue. But still.
He aimed to earn his way back to the man he’d been before Syria. Before he’d learned he was capable of such enormous destruction and that the weight of it would feel so crushing some days. If he could find a way to make restitution for the sins he’d committed in the town of al-Sadidiq, his skin might fit right again.
He pointed to the one building that looked like it had been painted during this decade. The letters stenciled on the window spelled out Ruby’s in old-fashioned curlicue font, heavy on the gold leaf.
As the other four SEALs eyed the building, the silence stretched. Pointedly. So Caleb filled it. “That’s the place Serenity talked about in her letters. The diner. Ruby’s is where you can count on finding everyone in town at some point during the day. No time like the present to get started on this adventure.”
“It’s barely a town,” Hudson argued. “I don’t get what there is here worth saving.”
He’d jumped into the SUV readily enough when they rolled out of Coronado for the last time, but outside of that, he hadn’t offered much in the way of his opinion of the plan. They called him Stillwater for a reason. What was on the surface hid enormous depths, but it took an act of congress to disturb Hudson Rafferty’s passive exterior.
“That’s not for us to decide,” Caleb said with a curt slice of his hand. “It’s important to Serenity. So it’s important to us. Anyone who thinks different, here’s the keys to the Yukon.”
He dangled the key fob from two fingers, but no one grabbed it.
Caleb’s little brother, Rowe—little being relative; they’d been the same size since Rowe’s fifteenth birthday—bumped his elbow as he moved in closer as a show of solidarity. Still trying to make up for Syria, most likely. Caleb had told him over and over it wasn’t his fault that the intel on al-Sadidiq had been bad.
It was Caleb’s.
“It’s a long drive back to Coronado,” Rowe reminded the others in his gravelly voice—lingering effects of having half a building fall on him during the raid. “And there’s nothing there for us.”
Rowe had gotten better. He had. One day, Caleb wouldn’t have to work so hard to convince himself of that. The sight of his brother’s broken and mangled body after they’d dug him out still flashed across the movie screen in his head at odd times, usually right when he was feeling like it was going to be okay.
As always, Rowe was all in with Caleb, which wasn’t so much of a plus lately. Like a lemming, the elder Hardy had led his brother right off a cliff. He hadn’t taken care of his brother like he should have. Superstition Springs would fix that too. Somehow. Caleb was counting on the town to heal all the wounds that the team had amassed, even the invisible ones.
“No one’s going anywhere,” Isaiah piped up, which was not a surprise. “We’re in this together. Right?”
Isaiah never quit making sure they all stuck together. The team needed his optimism and enthusiastic kicks to the rear now more than ever.
Hudson fielded Isaiah’s pointed glance with a shrug and crossed his arms to slump down in a deliberate not-going-anywhere pose. With a long-suffering sigh, Tristan scrubbed at his three-day-old beard.
“Sure, whatever,” he said loftily. “This place is bound to be loaded with backwoods farmer types who’ll make me look like a GQ cover model in comparison. I can’t miss with the chicks here.”
Caleb had to laugh. “I have no doubt. Can’t have you losing your ladies’ man gold club status in the midst of your undying altruism toward Serenity’s town.”
“Make no mistake. We’re here because we need something else too,” Tristan said quietly, his voice flickering with things unspoken, things they’d shared and couldn’t erase. “I’m willing to give it a chance.”
“Me too,” Isaiah threw in, which was echoed by Rowe. Hudson’s agreement took the form of a nod, but from him, that was like signing his name in blood on the dotted line.
And that’s why Isaiah had earned the nickname Elmer over and over. He was their glue and always would be, corralling tough nuts like Tristan and Hudson with ease.
Good. Caleb tried to swallow and found it difficult again. “Let’s meet our future head-on then.”
The guys followed him down the street to Ruby’s, where if he’d interpreted Serenity’s letters correctly, they’d find their pen pal. Probably they should have started there, but Caleb had needed Doritos for fortification. Not that they’d helped settle his nerves.
They were here. In Superstition Springs. The long journey was over, and yet it was only beginning. What if he’d made another mistake?
Caleb could see shadows moving around behind the tinted glass, which meant either ghosts were inside or live people. At this point, he was prepared for either, and standing around on the street wasn’t getting them any closer to the goal. He opened the door, which had one of those old-fashioned ringers that trilled to announce their presence. Five former SEALs spilled over the threshold.
It would have been fitting somehow if all the conversation in the place ceased as curious faces turned to see the strangers invading their peaceful existence. Maybe there would be some whispers among the patrons about who these larger-than-life men were, speculation as to whether they were lost. One pretty waitress would come forward with a smile to welcome them, her uniform crisp and neat but doing little to hide the spectacular, farm-raised body beneath it.
That’s not what happened.
Three
An attractive woman who could be forty or a well-preserved fifty-five stood behind the long, worn counter dotted with upside-down coffee cups, who eyed them all like she’d been rooting around in her freezer for hamburger meat and stumbled over prime rib. She was the only soul in the entire diner.
“You boys missed the exit for Austin,” she called in a surprisingly honeyed voice that could have easily segued her into a career doing commercials or radio instead of landing her in a Podunk town in Nowhere, Texas. “By about sixty miles. My coffee eats Starbucks for breakfast, but I doubt you’d think so. Want some anyway? I don’t have to-go cups, so you’ll have to sit like civilized humans or do without.”
“Ah, we… will have coffee,” Caleb agreed with a glance at the others for confirmation. “And we’re here on purpose. Are you Ruby? From the sign?”
“I’m Ruby,” she established as she fetched a carafe from the warmer behind her and dumped it all out in the sink while they watched as if they’d never seen coffee made before. “From Austin and glad to see it in my rearview mirror. I came first. The sign came second. I’ll make you a fresh pot while you tell me why on God’s green earth you’d come here on purpose.”
Isaiah slid into a seat at the end of the counter and flipped his worn mug over in anticipation of the coffee to come. You could always count on him to be first in line, especially if he sensed the others needed the path greased. “We’re friends of Serenity’s. Do you know Serenity Force?”
Ruby paused in the midst of measuring coffee grounds, her plucked brows raised as she pointed at him with her spoon. “Everyone knows everyone here. No place to hide. The real mystery is how you know her. If she’s left town once in the past ten years, I’ll dance on this counter for you.”
Tristan grinned at her with a once-over that would have been smarmy coming from someone who didn’t have his charm. “I’d pay for that privilege. That would be something to see.”
“No doubt,” she advised him with a wink as she flicked on the coffee maker. “It’s been a while since I’ve practiced my moves, so I’m a bit rusty, but you get your dollars ready just in case.”
Without missing a beat, Tristan’s smile grew warmer. “You look all practiced up to me.”
“Aren’t you sweet?” she said, and her laugh had that pleased tinge to it as if she hadn’t been flirted with nearly enough lately. “But seriously. I know everyone Serenity knows. And I would have heard if she’d befriended a bunch of strapping boys like y’all.”
Boys. That made every one of them grin. Ruby was something else. A fitting next stop on the quirky express that made up this interesting town.
But Caleb had an agenda, and flirting with older women wasn’t on it. He made a mental note to remind Tristan that the women here weren’t used to his kind of attention, especially not the ones twice his age. Unless he had a serious interest in the much older woman, which Caleb doubted was the case, he needed to tone it done. Flirting was like breathing to a guy like Marchande—he did it without a first, let alone second, thought.
But that was later. Serenity was now. “She wrote to us while we were deployed. So we’re here to um… meet her.”
If that sounded as lame out loud as it had in his head, they were done before they’d started. Calling ahead might have been a better plan. But why beat around the bush? They had nothing else to do except wallow in the reality of an honorable discharge. As if tacking honorable to the concept might lessen the sting of the involuntary part.
Ruby took the whole thing in stride though, like a champ. “Well, she’ll be along in a minute.”
“Really?” Caleb glanced around. They’d been talking to Ruby since they walked in the door, and she hadn’t moved other than to start the pot of coffee. He’d been about to ask her directions to Serenity’s house or if she could call her or something since the woman in question hadn’t been present in the diner after all. “Because you set off a secret bat signal?”
Ruby patted his hand patiently. “Because this is Superstition Springs, honey. We don’t need bat signals in order for everyone in town to know your business before you do. Either someone will mention it to her or she’ll sense it. Serenity’s pretty tapped in to the universe.”
On cue, the door chimed, announcing the presence of someone new. Caleb swung around.
Serenity.
It had to be her. How else could he explain the sudden sense of recognition despite never having seen a picture of his pen pal? Her flowing gray hair moved with her as she streamed into the diner, her careworn face beaming. She wore a long, multicolor dress pieced together like a quilt and earrings that dripped with sparkles. One by one she let her gaze rest on each of them.
“Which one of you is Caleb?” she asked, her voice as warm as the smile she treated him to when he stepped forward to shake her hand.
She was having none of that. Pulling him into her embrace, she hugged him fiercely, wrapping him up in a circle of tenderness the likes of which he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Hi, Serenity,” he said gruffly, mystified why he was so emotional all at once.
It was just… well, he hadn’t expected her to be so welcoming, so motherly, right off the bat. Why this surprised him, he couldn’t say. She’d been exactly like this in her letters, open, caring, never too busy to write. Caleb and Rowe had been on their own for a long time since their parents had been killed in a car accident during their first deployment to Iraq a million years ago. Who could blame him for seeking a mom figure?
You never got too old to want someone in your life who remembered your birthday and loved you just because. Honestly that might have been at least a quarter of his motivation for coming to meet her.
“What are you boys doing here?” she asked as she finally released him and then shook her head with a laugh before he could ask why she hadn’t predicted it. “Never mind. I don’t care! I’m happy to see you. You must be Rowe.”
She moved down the line to give his brother the same engulfing hug, remarking how much he looked like Caleb, a falsehood that Rowe took with good grace. The scar down the side of his left cheek wasn’t completely covered by his full beard, but she seemed not to notice it. His brother had never mentioned what kinds of things he wrote to Serenity in his own letters, so Caleb had no idea if she knew he’d lost most of the hearing in his left ear. Rowe didn’t talk about it, so neither did Caleb.
Serenity moved on like a whirlwind determined to scoop up all five men in record time.
“I’d know you anywhere, Tristan,” she said and pulled him down into her arms, a trick and a half since he topped out at six four and Serenity was nearly a foot shorter. “That ponytail is a dead giveaway.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tristan intoned, clearly amused as he hugged her back, then let her go. “I wasn’t kidding in my letters when I said I was growing it out.”
“Hi, Serenity, it’s me, Isaiah.” He grinned as she squealed over him, and he nearly picked her up off the ground with his enthusiastic hug. “We’ve come a long way to meet you.”
“I don’t doubt that,” she said, pushing her gray hair back behind her ears as she focused on the last man in the line, her eyes softening. “I won’t make you hug me, Hudson Rafferty. But welcome to you the same.”
He nodded and shook her hand without comment, but Caleb knew she’d scored major points with him by not making a big deal out of the fact that he didn’t like to be touched. And that she’d realized that about him in the first place.
“Now listen here,” she said briskly. “Ruby, why don’t you pour me a cup of that coffee and let me sit with my boys for a bit.”
So that was it then. They were boys in this neck of the woods. Caleb couldn’t hate it though; it was kind of nice to have these ladies think of them as young, when in reality, they were a bunch of battle-hardened warriors who had blood on their hands. So much blood it weighed down Caleb’s shoulders. He felt every minute of his thirty-one years, and every breath aged him in his soul where it co
uldn’t be undone by a sweet mom type calling him a boy.
The other woman hummed her agreement. “Only if I get to join you. First I’ve heard of you having boys, so there’s no way I’m missing a second of this.”
Ruby didn’t wait for anyone’s permission. She hustled them all to a large booth in the corner that might seat a bunch of normal people comfortably but couldn’t begin to accommodate five solidly built ex-SEALs and two fascinated women.
Always eager to maintain his lone-wolf status, Hudson did his part to make room by grabbing a chair from one of the other tables and swinging it around backward to sit in it astride. Old habit. If the back of the chair shielded your torso, less of a chance of being torn up in the event either shrapnel or shots came your direction.
Even in Superstition Springs, you couldn’t take the SEAL out of the man. Discharged against his will or not.
Ruby fetched the coffeepot and filled seven steaming cups with the contents, then untied the old-fashioned half apron she wore around a simple blue dress, dropping it on the counter. She slid into the already crowded booth, nudging Tristan good-naturedly with her hip. Winking, Tristan stretched his arm across the back of the booth behind her shoulders to accommodate her, his charm out in full force as she cozied up to him, all smiles.
Granted, the seating was already cozy. But still. Caleb hadn’t had a chance to warn Marchande off his game. Hopefully Ruby had some defenses in place against a smooth dog gone wild in a small town.
“Tell me what brings you all this way,” Serenity demanded and poured sugar into her coffee without looking at it, her attention so focused on Caleb that she seemed to miss Tristan’s shenanigans. “When Mavis told Augusta Moon that a bunch of hot Navy guys had come through her store, I knew it was you. And you better be planning to stay for at least a few days so I can get to know you in person.”
Hot Navy guys. That was one he’d never heard before, at least not to his face. Marchande wasn’t too ugly if you squinted a lot, and Isaiah had weird eyes, one blue and one brown, that women fawned over for some reason. But the rest of them… Mavis was being kind.