Tempted by the Soldier Read online

  “Whenever you can get there,” Eve said.

  The devil danced in her friend’s eyes. Blast it. They had bonded over their aversion to marriage, although each had very different reasons for that aversion. She feared that since Eve had succumbed to the call of love, her friend had her sights on Stephanie. Hell, no.

  “Have to go,” Eve said. “We’re still looking for a police chief, and I have an interview this afternoon.”

  “Promising?”

  “Unfortunately, no. But Tony took the job temporarily and has already stayed longer than he wants.” Eve paid her bill and stood. “See you tomorrow night.”

  Stephanie rose with her. She had a heavy appointment schedule this afternoon, plus a meeting later with three people interested in search and rescue. She doubted they would be as enthusiastic after learning the particulars, but if she enlisted one, she would be happy. Training both handler and dog could take as long as two years, never mind the fact they were volunteers and incurred a lot of expense along the way. It was a calling, often without rewards when the result was bad. But those moments of success were worth every minute of time and every dollar spent.

  At the very least it would take her mind off the town’s newest resident and what would be a very awkward dinner tomorrow night. For her, anyway. She suspected Clint Morgan would enjoy every moment of her discomfort.

  Now Eve owed her.

  * * *

  AFTER JOSH DROVE him home, Clint sat on the porch, staring at the lake. He needed something. A purpose. A goal. Hell, a life. Rehabbing the cabin had helped his host. Maybe it would do the same for him.

  A dock couldn’t be too difficult.

  He walked painfully down to the lake and looked at the other docks along the lake. Two were rather elaborate with boathouses. The others just stretched out into the water. Several had fishing boats tied to them. Another had a canoe and a bench.

  The afternoon was warm, even hot, although his idea of hot had changed after years in Afghanistan.

  Clint could tell from the shoreline and the other docks that the water was lower than normal, maybe by a foot or more. Still, it was a rich blue, which meant depth, and he wondered whether it was fed by springs as well as snow from the mountains.

  He went inside and searched websites dedicated to building docks and lost himself in going from one to another, gathering ideas. It was not, he realized, as easy as he’d thought, which was a good thing. He needed a challenge.

  It was well past eight when he closed the laptop. He’d made several designs along with a list of needed materials for each. He would take them over to the Mannings’ the following evening.

  He stood and the floor swayed beneath him. He grabbed the chair, knowing what was going to happen. He tried to concentrate, but the room was moving now. He needed to get to the bedroom, find his medicine. Lie down before he fell. The dizzy spells were almost always followed by a thunderous headache. He had hoped...

  The hall swirled as he used the walls to steady himself. The foot, still sore as hell, didn’t help. He reached the bed. Medicine and a glass of water were on a table next to it. He always left it there.

  He lay down on the bed and some of the dizziness faded. Not all of it.

  The ceiling still moved. Then the pain started...

  CHAPTER SIX

  CLINT WOKE FEELING as if he had been in a ten-hour battle. His head throbbed, his body too weak to reach the bathroom for a shower.

  Light flooded into the cabin. Yesterday, before the dizziness came, he’d been feeling better about the cabin, about being here. He liked Josh. The man didn’t say much, but he didn’t have to.

  He thought about Stephanie and wondered if she would be at dinner tonight. He didn’t know why he was so attracted to her. She was far too serious for him, too cautious, too...unreceptive.

  Maybe it was the challenge. Or maybe it was the brain trauma. Whatever it was, she was back in his head this morning, crowding everything out but the residue of pain.

  He forced himself to get up and walk to the bathroom. There was some good news. Despite the doctor’s warning that his foot would be worse today, it was better. Or maybe he was just putting it into context with the rest of his body.

  He took a cold shower to wake up, then a hot one. He limped into the kitchen and poured a large glass of orange juice. He headed for the porch swing. The solitude was jarring. He recognized the irony of that, but since he was eight, he’d almost always been with others, first at boarding schools, followed by army training facilities and finally overseas. He was usually the center of things, something he’d learned in boarding school. To lead for fear of being left behind.

  Now he was more alone than he had ever been and none of his mental tricks helped. Not the charm he’d developed, nor a nurtured optimism, nor an immediate goal. He had difficulty seeing anything but emptiness ahead.

  He finished the orange juice, limped down the drive and crossed the road that ended in a little roundabout just beyond the cabin. He eyed the path up the steep slope of the mountain. Maybe tomorrow.

  He went back inside, and for lack of anything else to do, he started checking out universities to finish his degree. His interest was in aeronautic electronics, but he didn’t find a program that he liked. Maybe his heart wasn’t in it. The thought of spending the rest of his working life in an office was deeply depressing. Although he had a natural curiosity about nearly everything and was a good student, the classroom had been the means of getting to where he wanted to be, and that was in the sky. He liked the outdoors, playing sports and testing himself physically. All that was at risk now.

  He found one of Josh’s books and took it to the porch. Maybe it would keep his mind from the future. And Stephanie Phillips.

  * * *

  STEPHANIE STARED AT the email from one of the few friends she had from the past. Her ex-husband was getting another divorce. That marriage had lasted two years longer than her own. The friend also said he’d made queries about her whereabouts.

  A shiver of apprehension ran through her.

  Mark Townsend didn’t like rejection. He had practically destroyed her during their marriage and after the divorce. He had stolen her money, destroyed her reputation, made it impossible to practice in the Northeast. Wherever she went, he found a way of preventing her from being hired.

  She’d found the position in Covenant Falls when a close friend from vet school told her of an older veterinarian in Colorado who was looking for someone to take over his practice. He’d inherited his family ranch and wanted to go back to full-time ranching, but didn’t want to leave the community without a vet. He was willing to finance the sale for the right person.

  She’d told Dr. Langford about Mark during their initial interview. One of the vet’s daughters had experienced a similar problem, and he had recommended that Stephanie take her mother’s maiden name legally. He’d cleared it through the state board and after working together for six months, he agreed to sell her the practice. He’d also suggested she retain the name of Langford Animal Practice. In today’s electronic world, a dedicated searcher could find her, but she’d hoped Mark’s new marriage would dim his vindictiveness toward her.

  Now that his latest marriage was ending, she worried he might come after her again. Or would he concentrate his ire on his newest ex-wife?

  How could she have been such a fool to marry him?

  Maybe he couldn’t find her. Or if he did, his power wouldn’t be as great in Covenant Falls as it was in Boston. True, she wasn’t a lifetime resident of Covenant Falls, but she was actively involved in search and rescue and was a member of the volunteer fire department. She also volunteered in causes that interested her, especially the community center.

  Except for Eve, though, she’d avoided close relationships.

  She closed the computer and glanced a
t her watch. She was running late for Eve’s dinner, although she was glad she had conducted her weekly search. It was best to be prepared.

  She regretted letting herself be talked into the dinner. She wasn’t in the mood to be sociable. Especially not after reading the email about Mark.

  But she had promised Eve.

  She changed into a clean shirt but left on the blue jeans she’d worn all day. Darn if she was going to dress up for Clint Morgan. She did add a touch of lipstick. Just a bit. She brushed her hair and braided it back into a long plait. Ready to go.

  Or not.

  She almost wished for an emergency, and she felt guilty as hell about that. No! It was just that damned email about Mark. It reminded her of her own helplessness, her own sorry judgment. She hated the reminder.

  Stephanie tried to look on the bright side. She would see her horse, Shadow, that she boarded at Eve’s ranch, and Nick and the other two people she liked most in Covenant Falls.

  “Stay,” she told the two dogs as she grabbed her car keys.

  Sherry whined, sensing she was ready to go. Styrker sat and held out his paw in entreaty. “Sorry, guys,” she said. “You haven’t been invited. There will be enough commotion without you.”

  At least she hadn’t been asked to drive Clint to Eve’s house.

  Her cell rang. Her heart dropped. She knew. She just knew.

  She looked at the name of the caller. Eve.

  The phone continued to ring. She could ignore it, but Eve knew she always answered the phone in case it was an emergency. If she didn’t answer, Eve would know why.

  She answered. “I’m on the way.”

  “Can you run by the cabin and pick up Clint? Josh is anointing steaks with his usual care, and my budget meeting ran late.”

  Stephanie sighed. There was no out. Not without making an idiot out of herself. “Okay. I’m leaving now.”

  She clicked off and went to the back of the clinic where she kept the van. She pulled up in front of Josh’s cabin several minutes later.

  Clint was on the swing on the front porch. He stood when he saw the van and ambled down the steps to the passenger side with only the slightest of limps, though she knew his foot must still hurt. She tried to deny the flutter in her stomach as he approached. He gave her a slow easy smile that would be devastating if she didn’t know better. “Hi,” he said. “I wouldn’t be presumptuous in thinking you’re my ride...?”

  “Nope. Afraid not.” Then she realized how that sounded. “Not presumptuous, I mean,” she added halfheartedly.

  His smile widened as he opened the door. “I’m happy to see you again, too.”

  She had no comeback for that.

  “Josh said his house was chaos,” he continued. It was more question than a statement.

  “It is,” she said more cheerfully. “It will probably drive you crazy.” She hoped.

  “After two wars, nothing drives me crazy.”

  “Watch out for the beagle. She’s a kleptomaniac.”

  “I have nothing I wouldn’t willingly surrender to a beagle.”

  “Don’t sit on Fancy.”

  “I appreciate the lesson in etiquette, but who is Fancy and why would I sit on her?”

  “Fancy is a small dog, and she sometimes sneaks up on the sofa just when someone is sitting down.”

  “I’ll try to sit in a chair.” He looked thoroughly amused. She wanted to slap him.

  She decided to take another tack. “You’re not limping.” She realized the moment she said it that it was almost an accusation.

  “Well, I still hurt if that’s what you’re wondering. Like the doc said...a couple of days.” He shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

  She was being petty. Ridiculous. He was just a man passing through town. A wounded man. A soldier like Josh. She owed him. The town owed him for his military service. It was the email; it had hit her like a sledgehammer.

  She surrendered and described what would confront him at the Manning household. “Braveheart is a shy pit bull. He’ll probably hide from you. Miss Marple is the larcenous beagle. Fancy is the homeliest dog you will ever see, but she thinks she’s beautiful, and Captain Hook is a crotchety three-legged chihuahua who just might take a bite out of your leg.”

  “I think I was safer in Afghanistan,” Clint said wryly.

  “There’s more,” she said, unable to hide the slightest of smiles. “There’s Josh’s dog, Amos, who’s a very disciplined ex-military dog unless he thinks someone is threatening Josh. There’s also Dizzy, a cat with balance problems. And lord of the house is ten-year-old Nick.”

  “Tell me about Nick.”

  “He’s a perfectly normal ten-year-old boy.”

  “You’re not telling me something.”

  “Nothing more to tell.” She would let him learn about Nick’s endless curiosity himself.

  He nodded, and she couldn’t tell what he was really thinking. But a house full of animals probably didn’t hold much fear for a guy who had been involved in wars for a number of years.

  “How is the cabin?” she asked, struggling to be more sociable. For Eve and Josh.

  “It’s great. I had a visitor today.”

  “Who?”

  “A Mrs. Byars, I think.”

  “Brownies?”

  “How did you know?”

  “She’s famous for them. Her son died in Vietnam. She has a special place in her heart for veterans.”

  She turned into a driveway that led to a sprawling ranch house with a big porch. A barn stood next to it, and three horses grazed in a pasture. As they drove up to the door, a tow-headed boy ran out of the house followed by a troop of dogs. Only one remained at the door.

  “I’m Nick,” the boy said as he reached the van and Clint stepped out. “Josh told me to bring you inside. He’s at the grill.”

  “I’m delighted to meet you, Nick,” he said formally. “And your friends.”

  “I knew you would,” Nick said. “Mom suggested I leave them inside, but they wanted to meet you, too.”

  “I’m very glad they did,” he said solemnly.

  Nick beamed.

  Stephanie followed man and boy inside and watched Clint charm the shoes off Nick, which wasn’t hard to do. Nick already worshiped his new stepfather and that was going to carry over to anyone who served in the military. To her chagrin, Clint sounded totally sincere as he talked to Nick and then bent down to let the dogs sniff his hand. Only Braveheart stood back.

  It was hard to fool children and dogs. Mark had never even pretended to like dogs. That should have been a very loud warning bell, but when she’d asked him whether he had pets, he’d said he’d been too busy and it wouldn’t be fair to an animal. That had sounded logical and even animal-friendly. Get him out of your head.

  Eve met them at the door, a broad smile on her face. “Welcome,” she said as the dogs sidled in alongside Clint. “I see you’ve met my motley crew.”

  “I have, and I’ve had a warning about the larcenous one.”

  “Just don’t take off a shoe,” Eve warned. “Would you like something to drink? A beer? Or something else.”

  “A beer sounds great.”

  Eve’s smile grew broader. “I’ve been anxious to meet you since Josh told me about your ‘encounter of a bovine kind’ with one of Steph’s patients. I decided then and there that I was going to like you. What do you think about the cabin?”

  “It’s terrific. Far more than I expected. Your husband did a great job.”

  Eve beamed, and Stephanie sighed. No ally there.

  “You sit here and get off that foot,” Eve said. “Stephanie will bring you a beer. Nick, you go out and help Josh.”

  Clint did as instructed, and Stephanie gritted her teeth as she followed Eve to the ki
tchen. It was going to be a very long evening.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CLINT WAS BEMUSED. It was chaos here, but a comfortable kind of chaos. He enjoyed Stephanie’s discomfort, as well. He was attracted to her. No question about that. His body alerted him to the fact every time he saw her.

  Instinctively, he knew she felt the attraction, too, and was fighting it with everything in her. He didn’t know why, but then, he had his own reasons to avoid any romantic entanglements. Last night’s headache reminded him of his limitations. No blackout, but it had been a near thing. A month from now, he might still have them. Maybe a year, or forever, and what kind of job can you get when you can’t drive or might pass out at any time?

  For now, he would enjoy jousting with Stephanie and watching the fire in her pretty eyes.

  She arrived with a bottle of ice-cold beer and handed it to him. “I’m helping Eve in the kitchen,” she said. “Why don’t you get acquainted with the dogs?”

  He sat on the couch and three of the four dogs surrounded him. He suspected Stephanie thought it would unhinge him. He held out his hand to the dogs. The beagle came to him immediately, followed by the one called Fancy. In two more minutes, the Chihuahua hopped up into his lap. Only Braveheart sat at a distance, eyeing him as if he were an ax murderer. Maybe he channeled Stephanie.

  The pit bull had scars, and one ear was half torn off. “Hey, Braveheart,” he said softly. He held out his hand again. Miss Marple, the beagle, licked it. The Mexican Hairless nibbled at it. Braveheart looked unmoved.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “I’m a stranger, and strangers are scary. I must be scary, but I like you. We both have some scars.” Braveheart didn’t move. Neither did he. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

  Miss Marple rolled onto her back, and he rubbed her stomach. Then, to his surprise, Braveheart took a step toward him. Then another. Hesitantly. Very hesitantly. He was close enough to touch. Clint reached out to him. Braveheart shied away, came back still obviously poised to escape. Clint slowly leaned toward him and as gently as he could, rubbed the dog’s ears. Braveheart inched closer. “Good boy,” Clint said in a low, reassuring voice.