The Marine's Road Home

by Brenda Harlen

  To Ashley, too, Sky realized now.

  “I can say that because I know he’s dealing with a lot of stuff right now—stuff that no one should have to deal with,” she said gently.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Ashley decided, but her tone told Sky that it mattered a lot.

  “Okay,” she agreed. “Just remember that I’m here if you ever want to talk.”

  “I know,” her sister said. And then, more hesitantly, she added, “I’m here for you, too, if you ever want to talk. I know you probably think I’m just a kid, but I’m a pretty good listener.”

  “You are a pretty good listener,” Sky said. “And a really great sister.”

  Ashley smiled at that.

  Sky put her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go celebrate our victory with a root beer.”

  * * *

  The championship trophy was three feet of polished plastic, as gaudy as it was tall, but it came with bragging rights—at least until the season ended, when a new champion might potentially be crowned. The victors passed it around with the same reverence afforded the World Series trophy, and after all the players had had the opportunity for a photo with the Champions Cup, Duke took it back to the bar to put on display.

  “What do you think?” the boss asked, as he pushed the liquor bottles on the top shelf to the sides, making space in the middle for the award.

  “It looks good,” Sky said approvingly from the other side of the counter. She glanced questioningly at Ashley, who nodded as she sipped her root beer.

  “It sure looks a helluva lot better than you do,” her boss remarked.

  Sky lifted a hand to her swollen cheek. “Those leg guards that catchers wear are hard.”

  “We were up by five runs at that point,” Duke pointed out as he wrapped some ice in a towel. “Why you felt the need to slide head-first into home plate instead of staying put on third—like I told you—is a mystery to me.”

  “I was safe at home,” she reminded him.

  “Yeah, you were safe,” he grudgingly acknowledged, handing the towel across the bar to her.

  She applied the ice to her cheek as Geena set two plates of burgers and fries in front of them. “Thanks.”

  “Are you girls going back to the park for the fireworks later?” Geena asked as Sky nibbled on a fry.

  She shook her head. “After this, I’m going home to soak my weary muscles in the hot tub.”

  “But it’s Heritage Day,” Geena reminded them. “A time to celebrate with friends and family and pyrotechnics in the sky.”

  Sky appreciated the sentiment, but she didn’t really feel up to celebrating—especially when the one person she’d planned to not celebrate with was gone.

  Each day, it will be a little bit easier, Katelyn had promised.

  And, after three weeks, Sky was finally starting to think it might be true.

  She still missed Jake. Every morning when she woke up, he was the first thought on her mind, and every night when she went to bed, he was the last. Wherever he was, she hoped he was doing okay, and that Molly was close by, watching over him.

  * * *

  It figured that just when Sky had finally stopped hoping Jake would walk through the door, he did so.

  More than five weeks after he’d left town, on a Wednesday night at just about 9:55 p.m., he came into Diggers’, took his usual seat at the bar and—casually, as if nothing had ever happened between them and he hadn’t been gone for more than a month—ordered a draft beer.

  Not a Sam Adams, though.

  This time, he asked for a pint of Icky.

  There were so many emotions warring inside her that Sky didn’t know what she was feeling. Joy. Anger. Relief. Frustration. Love.

  Taking her cue from him, Sky went through the motions, as if she was pouring a beer for any other customer on any other night. As if she hadn’t given him her heart—and had her offering summarily rejected.

  She shut off the tap and set the mug of beer on a paper coaster in front of him, pleased to note that her hands were steady though her insides were shaking like leaves in a hurricane-force gale. She had so many questions, about where he’d been—and about why he’d come back—but she didn’t let herself ask them. She didn’t let herself give him any hint of how much she’d missed him, though there was no denying that she had.

  Jake didn’t say anything, either, but he looked at her over the rim of the mug as he lifted it to his lips, and his gaze held hers for an endlessly long moment. She wished she could read his expression, but she’d never been able to guess what he was thinking and she didn’t dare let herself speculate.

  But she kept an eye on him while she continued to serve and chat with other customers at the bar. She didn’t want to look away, for fear that if she let him out of her sight for a second, he’d disappear again.

  Wherever he’d been and whatever he’d been doing for the past five weeks, he looked good. Really good.

  Almost as if he’d been on vacation.

  And maybe he had.

  Maybe while she’d been miserably unhappy without him, he’d been frolicking in the sand on a tropical island with Molly.

  Except that she didn’t really think he was the frolicking type.

  When he’d swallowed the last mouthful of beer, Jake pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and set a ten-dollar bill on the bar beside the empty mug.

  Her stomach tightened into painful knots as she braced herself to watch him push away from the bar and walk out the door.

  She wanted to say something, but her throat was tight.

  Her heart aching.

  Was this really how it was going to be?

  As if they were strangers all over again?

  Courtney set her tray on the corner of the bar and read off her order pad: “I need a pint of Icky, a pitcher of Wild Horse with three glasses, a vodka martini, dirty, with two olives, and a Coke.”

  Sky busied herself getting the drinks.

  She didn’t look at the stool where Jake had been sitting, because she didn’t want to watch him leave. Because she knew that it would rip her heart out of her chest again.

  When Courtney’s tray was loaded, she glanced down to the other end of the bar, to see if any of her other customers needed a refill.

  Jake was still there.

  Watching her.

  She took a couple of steps in his direction, even as she cursed herself for being unable to stay away. When she was standing in front of him again, he placed a square velvet box on top of the money.

  Sky just stared at it, her pulse racing.

  She made no move to reach for the box, so Jake opened the lid to reveal a square sapphire surrounded by diamonds and set on a platinum band.

  The murmur of voices faded as the bar’s other patrons abandoned their own conversations in favor of eavesdropping on the scene that was playing out before them.

  Sky swallowed and tucked her hands into the front pockets of her jeans, resisting the urge to reach for the ring. “That’s a heck of a tip.”

  “It’s not a tip,” Jake told her. “It’s a proposal.”

  She looked at him then. “Is it?”

  He nodded. “I know diamonds are traditional, but I thought the sapphire would suit you better.”

  “A proposal usually includes a question,” Ellis Hagen pointed out from the other end of the bar.

  “Sky knows I’m not good with words,” Jake said.

  And maybe she should snatch up the ring and the man, but after five weeks, she wanted more. She needed more. She needed to know that she mattered enough for him to make the effort.

  “I think I deserve the words,” she said to him now.

  He nodded again. “You’re right. You do. So how about if I start by telling you that I love you?”

  Sh
e felt her throat tighten. “That’s a pretty good start.”

  “A slow start, I’d say, if this is the first time you’re saying the words,” Gavin Virga chimed in.

  Jake looked at Sky, his expression chagrined. “I obviously didn’t think this through,” he acknowledged. “Or I might have chosen a less public venue.”

  “But you’re here now,” Sky said, mentally crossing her fingers that he wouldn’t walk out. “And the next round’s on me if everyone else can shut up for five minutes and at least pretend to mind their own business.”

  “But this is so much more interesting,” Doug Holland said.

  Sky shot him a withering glance.

  “Shutting up,” he promised.

  She turned back to Jake.

  “It’s true,” he said to her now. “I love you. I don’t know when or how it happened, but the more time I spent with you, the more I couldn’t imagine my life without you. I didn’t want to imagine a life without you in it.

  “But I needed some time to get my life together before I could ask you to share it—because more than anything, what I want is to share my life with you. Because I love you, Sky, and I hope you still love me, too.”

  “I do,” she confessed softly. “But I thought I’d freaked you out by telling you how I felt.”

  “What freaked me out was knowing how I felt,” he confided. “Because I watched you with your family at the wedding, and I saw the closeness between you and your siblings, the way you dote on your nieces and nephews. And I knew you needed to be with someone who could give you a family of your own.”

  “What I need is to be with someone who loves me. And if, at some point down the road, we can work kids into that arrangement, that would be great. But if not, at least we’d be together.”

  “I want to give you everything you want,” he said. “Everything you deserve. That’s why I left.”

  “I’m confused,” she admitted.

  “You’re not the only one,” Jerry Tate remarked.

  But Jake’s gaze didn’t shift from Sky’s face. “I completed a thirty-day residential PTSD treatment program in Reno,” he said, ignoring the other man’s remark. “I needed to know that I could tackle my issues, to be worthy of you.”

  “You don’t ever have to tackle anything on your own,” Sky told him, coming around from behind the counter to take a seat beside him, wanting to ensure that this part of their conversation couldn’t be overheard.

  Though she would have liked to know where he was and what he was doing, she understood now why he’d kept that information to himself. That he’d probably had doubts, not just about the effectiveness of the program but his ability to stick with it.

  And the realization that he’d not only sought treatment but completed a program brought on a whole new wave of emotions. Surprise. Gratitude. Happiness. Pride.

  “How was it?” she asked gently.

  “Brutal. Intense.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “Life-changing.”

  “In a good way?” she asked cautiously.

  “Yeah.” He leaned closer and brushed his lips over hers in a gentle kiss. “In a very good way.”

  She smiled. “I’m glad.”

  “But I’m still a work in progress,” he warned.

  She knew that was true. She knew that he would likely battle the demons that haunted him for the rest of his life. But hopefully now he knew that he didn’t have to battle alone. That if he let her, she’d gladly take up a sword and fight by his side—for Jake and their future together.

  “I understand that you might not want to rush into setting a date or anything like that,” he continued. “But I hope you’ll at least agree to wear my ring on your finger, so you can look at it every day and know how much I love you even if I’m not always good at telling or showing you.”

  “You’re doing just fine so far,” she said, and held out her left hand.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “That’s a very emphatic yes.”

  He removed the ring from the box and slid it on her third finger—to the accompaniment of cheers and applause around the room.

  “Now kiss her,” Ellis urged.

  “Like you mean it this time,” Gavin said.

  Jake heeded their advice.

  “What if I do want to rush into setting a date?” she asked, when he’d finally eased his lips from hers.

  “You’d make me the happiest man in the world,” he assured her.

  “That’s good,” she said. “Because I don’t want to wait to start the rest of my life with you. But there is one thing you might have to do first.”

  “Ask your father’s permission?” he guessed.

  “More like my sister’s forgiveness,” she said.

  “I’ve already spoken to both of them,” he told her.

  Her brows lifted. “Before you came to see me?”

  “I needed them in my corner in case I had to go to Plan B.”

  “What was Plan B?”

  “Begging you to give me a second chance.”

  “I don’t want you to beg,” she said. “I just want you to love me.”

  “And I always will,” he promised.

  * * *

  Look for Haylee Gilmore’s story, Meet Me Under the Mistletoe, the next book in award-winning author Brenda Harlen’s miniseries Match Made in Haven.

  Coming in November 2020, wherever Harlequin Special Edition books and ebooks are sold.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Her Man Behind the Badge by Stella Bagwell.

  WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM

  Believe in love. Overcome obstacles. Find happiness.

  Relate to finding comfort and strength in the support of loved ones and enjoy the journey no matter what life throws your way.

  6 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!

  Her Man Behind the Badge

  by Stella Bagwell

  Chapter One

  Connor Murphy fastened the seat belt across his broad chest and darted a glance at the dark landscape whizzing by the passenger window of the truck.

  “In case you’ve forgotten, Joe, the sheriff’s office is in the opposite direction. And there’s no sense in you getting the idea that we’re a two-man posse tonight,” he added with weary sarcasm. “The thieves who burgled the Wallace house are probably over in California by now.”

  “Wrong. We’ll find the rats right around Wickenburg. And soon,” Joseph Hollister replied. “Right now I want to make another stop. Jazelle, the woman who works as the housekeeper for my family on Three Rivers Ranch, lives right over this next rise. I want to make sure her place wasn’t hit by the same thieves.”

  Connor groaned. “Damn, Joe, don’t you think she would’ve already called the sheriff’s office and reported it? We’re not riding horses down the main street in Tombstone and you’re not Wyatt Earp.” He jabbed a finger in the direction of the radio built into the dash of the truck. “These days we have instant communication and transportation.”

  “So we do,” Joseph said, unaffected by Connor’s grumbling. “But Jazelle often has to work late at Three Rivers. She might not even be home yet. At least we can look around and make sure the doors and windows are all intact.”

  The two men had already pulled a sixteen-hour shift and Connor was dog tired. He wanted to go home, drink a beer and fall into bed. But he wasn’t going to argue with Joe. The man wasn’t just his work partner, he’d been a close friend since childhood and Connor had learned long ago that it was next to impossible to win an argument with the man.

  Scowling, Connor asked, “Doesn’t this woman have a husband to see after things?”

  “No. And she’s always too busy taking care of everyone at Three Rivers to have time to do much at her own place.”

  Connor sighed. “Okay. But let’s make this safety check snappy. I’
m about to fall flat on my face.”

  “Right.” Joseph glanced at him and chuckled. “What you need, Connor, is two kids and a wife to go home to. They’d make you forget all about being tired.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at Joseph then snorted. “Sure, Joe. If I thought I had to go home to a nagging wife and a pair of screaming kids, you’d have to send the law out looking for me.”

  Joseph grinned. “Tessa doesn’t nag. And my kids don’t scream—well, only when they’re mad about something.”

  Connor didn’t bother to reply. He couldn’t dispute a man who was deeply in love with his wife and doted on the son and daughter she’d given him. And that was well and good, Connor thought. He was glad for his friend. But that kind of life wasn’t for him. No way in hell.

  Joseph flipped on the turn signal and steered the truck to a stop behind a ten-year-old Ford truck with faded red paint. “Looks like Jazelle is home. If we’re lucky, she might have noticed something as she drove by the Wallace place.”

  On a small planked porch flanked by two gnarled juniper trees, Joseph knocked on the door of the little stucco house. Connor stood to one side and peered around the dark yard.

  “The woman needs a yard light,” Connor observed. “You couldn’t see a prowler around here if he walked two feet in front of you.”

  Joseph frowned. “Yeah. I’ll talk to Mom. She’ll send a couple of the ranch hands out to put one up for her.”

  Since the Hollisters owned and operated Three Rivers Ranch—one of the biggest cattle and horse ranches in the entire state of Arizona—they didn’t lack for money. Erecting a yard light would be penny ante stuff for them.

  With no sound coming from inside the house, Joseph knocked again.

  “I don’t think she’s going to come to the door, Joe. It’s after ten. She’s probably already gone to bed.”

  Connor had barely gotten the words out of his mouth when a light suddenly flooded the porch, followed by the rattle of the latch. As the wooden door finally creaked open, Connor peered around Joseph’s right shoulder to see a very young woman with long blond hair standing on the threshold.