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Hers to Heal Page 2


  A poem from Aeschylus, a Greek tragic dramatist, came to mind. “He who learns must suffer, and, even in our sleep, pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us…”

  Since his freshman year of college, Reece had always been a sucker for Greek tragedy plays and poetry. Replaying the Aeschylus quote over in his mind, how much did Reece have to learn? For sure the rest of the man’s words were true. Night after night, the pain returned like a constant dripping of despair upon his heart. But wisdom? Where the fucking hell was his wisdom?

  Reece put on his sneakers and walked outside, trying to shake off the effects of the ghoulish dream. Nance appeared by his side and leaned her head against his leg. Still not ready to talk, Reece scratched behind the dog’s ear. She took a portion of his sleep pants in her mouth and led him toward a large log where JJ leaned against a tree.

  “Hey.” It took Reece great effort to force the greeting from his clenched jaws.

  JJ motioned. “Sit, man. Keep me company while I calm down from a night terror. I don’t have them as often as I used to, thank God. Counseling’s helped. But when they come, they really unsettle me.”

  “I have a couple each night.”

  “Fuck, man, that’s bad. At least I’ve got Nance to wake me up when I start thrashing and cussing. She brings an end to the nightmares.” JJ scratched his chest. “Some crazy shit, ain’t it? Daylight and I think about the present. Come nightfall and that bastard called ‘past’ creeps up on me.”

  Reece didn’t even have complete peace during the days. The hounds of war hell snarled and nipped at his ass night and day. “This shrink. Is he helping?”

  JJ nodded. “That he is. Doc Raymond is extremely good. He knows his shit. You should have Gina set you up with him.”

  That would mean he’d have to talk to her. Hell, he was about talked out now after what he considered a long conversation with JJ. “Not yet.” Reece stood. “Think I’ll walk for a while.”

  “Take Nance with you. She’s a good listener, even if you’re silent.” JJ stretched his legs over the length of the log. “Nance, go with Steelhead. Protect.”

  Nance barked once and took a position beside Reece. It looked as if he had a walking buddy, like it or not. Together they strode around the end of the new portion of ZQ’s house, past the original log cabin section, and another newer part containing ZQ’s big office and a few smaller rooms. Reece meandered under the row of ancient liveoak trees, thankful for his night vision, which years of SEAL training had enhanced.

  Once he and Nance were on the gravel road, he gave the command “Run.” He took off and the German shepherd kept up with him. She was a powerful dog. One JJ had trained from a pup to serve members of her team by sniffing out explosives and weapons.

  She also aided them emotionally with her calming and comedic personality. All the guys referred to her as their “baby girl” and she bestowed canine kisses with abandon. No one doubted her loyalty and gave it back to her as best they could. Nance was one of them, by God. She’d saved Reece’s sorry ass and he’d never forget it.

  —

  When ZQ knocked on his door, Reece was deep in another dream. This one was passion-filled with Gina’s long legs wrapped around his hips. She was urging him to go deeper, harder, faster. Damn, he was right with her—wild with need for release. He growled a response to ZQ and stumbled to the bathroom where he stroked himself to climax. He leaned his face against the shower wall and gasped for air. Gina. Gina with the brown bedroom eyes and sassy mouth.

  After breakfast, Reece sat in the rocking chair in his room, reading a modern retelling of Euripides’s Hippolytos. ZQ had brought it along when he came to visit him at the high-tech military hospital in San Antonio, BAMC. His commander knew about his love of Greek plays and literature. This was his third time reading it. A knock interrupted his solitude. “Yeah.”

  Gina opened the door and set her two duffel bags on the floor. “Sorry I’m late. Junebug needed extra therapy this morning after digging in her garden so long yesterday.” Gina planted her hands on her hips. “I don’t think that woman will ever slow down. Thank goodness it’s raining today. She’ll have to stay inside.” She gave him the once-over, obviously taking in that he wore his prosthesis, a tank, and sweatpants. He was barefoot and relaxed, determined not to let her get to him like she’d done the day before.

  “You’ve got your prosthesis on. I’m very pleased. What are you reading?” He showed her the front cover. “Awesome. I’m reading The Peloponnesian War right now.”

  “Really?” He was shocked. She didn’t strike him as the type, but then she had been a Marine.

  The corners of her mouth rose. “Another word’s been added to your vocabulary.”

  Kee-ryst, is she goading me already? He leaned forward in the rocker. “A word a day keeps the chatty physical therapist away.”

  Her smile dimmed, hurt flashed in her beautiful eyes. Didn’t he feel like the ass? He dug deep for words to tell her he was sorry, but before he could push out an expression of remorse, she closed the door behind her and made one step toward him.

  “I gave you the chance to get rid of me yesterday. For reasons I can’t fathom, you chose to keep me on.” She narrowed her eyes, more angry now than hurt. “Last chance, Reece. Do you want me to find you another physical therapist?”

  Maybe he’d pushed back too far. “No. I want you.” He focused on her face, hoping she couldn’t read the raw need behind those words.

  “Look, I won’t talk except to give you instructions and to ask how you feel. You don’t want friendly chitchat from me? Fine. I’ll do my best to keep silent.” Her words were clipped.

  Fuckin’ A, she’s pissed all right.

  “We’ll start with our usual warm-up exercises.” She extended the ball for him to roll hand over prosthetic hand up and down the closet door in a stretching motion.

  Twenty damn minutes later, even with the rain pattering against the windows, the silence inside nearly gonged off the bedroom walls. He didn’t know how much more of this silent shit he could take. He really had grown accustomed to the sound of her voice. For the oddest of reasons, there was comfort in her constant talking while it drove him freaking nuts at the same time. Go figure.

  Gina’s cell rang as she was showing him how to use his fake thumb and index finger to pick up small items—prehensile movements, she called it. “Excuse me a moment.” She stood and his gaze followed her as she strode to the window.

  “Hello, Bill. How are you doing, you handsome devil?” She was silent for a few beats, smiling and nodding.

  Reece seethed. Who the hell was Bill? What right did this sombitch have to invade his time with her?

  “Sure, I can change the time. I’ll stop by an hour later tomorrow. I’m so excited!” She laughed at something the caller said. “You got that right, handsome. Bye, now.”

  “What man has you so excited?” Reece was damn near seeing green. And wasn’t that a freaking bitch?

  She sat across a small table from him, one eyebrow arched. “No one I’m sure you want to hear me chat about. Now, let’s work on picking up a dime.” She pulled three from her yellow daffodil scrubs top. “Use the same motion I’ve taught you. Just minimize the movements.”

  “Not until you freakin’ talk to me.” God, he made no sense. He knew it, but he couldn’t help himself. She was slowly driving him apeshit crazy.

  —

  Junebug looked up from washing carrots when Gina entered the kitchen. “How did it go?”

  “God, I think Reece is PMSing. One moment he wants me quiet. Another, he’s yelling at me to talk to him.” She blew out a breath, fluttering her bangs. “He wears me out. Although he did talk a little more today. One has to be grateful for any small improvement.”

  The older woman reached for a towel to dry her arthritic hands. “Do you have time for a cup of coffee? We could talk a little.” The silver-haired lady cast hopeful eyes o
n Gina.

  “Yes, I do. I’ll finish washing these carrots while you pour. You know I don’t like you having your hands in a lot of cold water, especially after how bad they were earlier this morning.” Gina glanced in the roaster. “Are you making pot roast? Looks yummy.” She added the carrots she’d just washed to the onions and celery surrounding the large chunk of beef. Reaching for the pile of potatoes, she continued scrubbing, hoping to finish the chore for her.

  “Want some cookies? I made snicker doodles. A double batch since they’re ZQ’s favorite.” Junebug set mugs on the oval table that took up a large portion of the kitchen.

  “Sounds fab. How do you like your redecorated kitchen? I’m saving up to redo mine one day. It’s stuck back in the fifties. Some single women dream of finding the right man. I dream of having a dishwasher.”

  Junebug stepped to the sink and hugged her. “You poor thing. I’ll have the ladies’ prayer circle start praying for a man and a dishwasher for you.”

  Gina shook her head, unease drying her throat. “No. No, that won’t be necessary. Really.”

  “Have no fear. I’ll call Clarice after you leave and have your name put on our list.” Gina’s hands stilled and she stared at Junebug. Clarice Small had been a domestic partner of Suzanne Westwood’s for as long as Gina had been in this area. “Don’t look at me like that. We’re an equal opportunity prayer group. Just because Clarice prefers Suzanne doesn’t mean she won’t pray for you to find your Tarzan.

  “Now, what were we talking about before you brought your lack of a sex life into the conversation?” Junebug’s eyes twinkled.

  Gina sputtered. “I…I…I most certainly did not bring—”

  “Right. My new kitchen.” The elderly woman looked around, joy in her eyes. “Oh, I love it. The white cabinets make it so much brighter in here. Dustin drew up floor plans that gave me more storage and counter space, yet made the room feel bigger. He’s a whiz as an architect. Kelcee suggested green-and-white-checked wallpaper to match the green speckled granite countertops. I love the look, especially with the white chair rail. So much better than the blood-splattered mess the boys left me. Fudge and buttermilk, what a helluva day that was.”

  Gina quartered the potatoes and added them to the baking pan, thankful the topic of conversation had moved on from her nonexistent sex life. “So I heard, but Kelcee will be safe now from her crazy brother. I really hope Dustin’s new architectural business takes off. I enjoyed working with him as a patient when he was here, watching him fall in love with Kelcee. There, veggies are all cut. All you have to do is add your spices and your pot roast is ready for the oven.”

  Junebug hip-bumped her over. “Thanks for the help. I’ll have this done in a jiffy and then we can relax.” She shook in spices and poured in some beef broth before plunking on the lid. “Open the oven door for me, would you?”

  Once they were seated, Junebug rested her gnarled hand over Gina’s. “Don’t let Reece get to you. He’s been through a lot. ZQ filled me in.” She shook her head and tsked a few times before taking a gulp of her coffee. She wiped her red lipstick mark off her mug with her thumb. The woman loved matching her lipstick to her tops and was a sight when she wore green—or black. “Still, he’s a nice man. Don’t think I didn’t notice the arc of attraction that jolted between you two yesterday when he was headed to the stables.” She waved the edge of her hand in front of her like a fan. “Whew! It almost melted my bloomers.”

  “Oh, Junebug, please. No men for me. I have a daughter to raise, a busy physical therapy practice, and a kitten who can’t decide if he’s a ninja warrior or a demolitions expert. I should never have allowed you to talk me into taking the last of Muffin’s litter.”

  “What did you name him?”

  “Whirlwind.” Gina sipped at her coffee and smirked. “He’s the devil incarnate in black-and-white fur.” She picked up another cookie. “How does Reece act around everyone else? Is he withdrawn with the guys?”

  “Well, he’s quiet at mealtimes. Oh, he’ll speak if spoken to; he just rarely initiates conversation. He’s never rude. I’m sure he knows Zane wouldn’t put up with it. At night, when the guys sit around the fire pit and talk about old times, I occasionally hear Reece’s voice. I’ve seen him groom horses, his lips moving, so I’m guessing he’s more comfortable talking to them.”

  Junebug shrugged. “You know me, I’m a hugger. He’ll allow me to embrace him, but when I do he’s stiff as that tree trunk out there.” She pointed to one of the wild black cherry trees in the large backyard. “My heart goes out to him.”

  “He’s afraid to allow himself to feel for anyone. I need to do some more research.” Gina brushed crumbs off her top. “Look, are you sure it’s okay if I bring Piper along with me next week?”

  “You just bring that bundle of sweetness here every day of her spring break.” Wistfulness bloomed on Junebug’s face. “I remember all of little Zane’s first grade. He was so thrilled to learn and full of excitement when he got home.” Her hand swept an arc through the air. “He’d follow me around the kitchen and tell me everything his teacher said and what he and his buddies did. What books they read. Little Zane loved to read.”

  Gina laughed. “Little Zane? He’s what? Six-foot-six and solid muscle?”

  “Oh, honey, you should have met his daddy.” Junebug sighed. “My Austin was a true hunk. His mother was full-blooded Apache, so he had a lot of Native characteristics and beliefs. He was a proud man, so he was. Why, he just swept me away. I just wish my son would find some woman to sweep away.” Her lips pursed. “I need grandchildren, so I do.”

  “Don’t look at me when you make that statement. ZQ and I are just friends and we like it that way. Don’t you dare mention to this prayer group you’ve got this wild idea you want ZQ and me to fall in love. He’s too masterful for me.

  “I’ll try my best to get here a little early on the days I bring Piper to get her settled in before I start working with the silent warrior.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to get my ass in gear. Owen Pohl is next on my list.”

  “How’s he doing since his stroke?”

  Gina gathered her things and stood. “He’s doing better. Thank goodness he was at Bookstore by the Falls when it hit him. Kelcee knew to give him an aspirin right away. Owen and I take longer walks every time I go. He’s coming out of the depression, so common in stroke victims. I do his laundry and some light housework for him while I’m there. Fran Silver brings his meals by, while her husband, Clint, plays checkers with Owen or watches old cowboy movies with him.”

  “They’ve always been close—Owen Pohl and the Silvers.”

  Gina grinned. “Today, we’re going to slow-dance, start to get him used to stepping backwards and turning while he’s having fun at the same time.” She kissed Junebug on the cheek. “Thanks for the cookies and coffee. Behave yourself.”

  A giggle burst forth. “Lots of luck with that idea.”

  Chapter 3

  Reece observed the strange-as-hell dinner preparations, just as he had every night since he’d rolled in after his trip from New Mexico, his horse trailer hauling his palomino stallion, Cochise.

  Reece didn’t mind helping Junebug set bowls of food on the table. Not when he was thankful for her excellent cooking.

  He had no qualms about eating breakfast and supper with Nance. She’d been the team’s service dog for over two years, had been beloved by everyone in SEAL Team 5. JJ had her well trained.

  Seeing she had her own chair at the foot of the table, though, made Reece’s eyebrows rise his first night here. He damn near smiled when Junebug tied a friggin’ bib around Nance’s furry neck before setting a chrome bowl of dry dog food and another of water with ice cubes in front of the one-eared vet.

  But when they all held hands, so ZQ could say grace before they ate, and Nance outstretched her paws to Junebug on one side and JJ on the other, Reece had to pinch his eyes shut and bite the inside of his cheek. Kee-ryst a-mighty!

  ZQ
fucking loved to push buttons. As the team’s commander, he’d made it his business to learn everyone’s flash point. He was a hard taskmaster. When he was in a mischievous mood or wanted to drive a man to his limits, he’d push that person’s buttons—or dog’s. Here at the house, some evenings, he’d pray longer than his usual three sentences and Nance would whine, hoping she could get him to shut up so she could eat. If ZQ was particularly enjoying himself, he’d keep on praying until a low warning growl originated at the opposite end of the table and the dog bared her teeth. God, it was comical as hell.

  Nance’s sole purpose in life was to please JJ. She knew he’d be upset if she started eating her kibble while they were all holding hands and ZQ was talking. Even so, she wasn’t above telling him in her own way that he’d talked long enough. Tonight had been one of those teeth-baring nights. ZQ was still chuckling under his breath. A true SEAL sombitch.

  “Good pot roast, Momma Junebug. Beef’s so tender you can cut it with a fork.” JJ was busy feeding his face.

  Nance woofed in agreement.

  “Well, thank you, JJ.” The silver-haired woman smiled. “Is your kibble tender, too, Nance?”

  ZQ reached for another biscuit and so did Reece. Man, Junebug knew how to make the flakiest rolls in the world.

  “Momma, what has you in such a chipper mood tonight?” ZQ regarded her as he buttered his biscuit.

  “Gina’s bringing little Piper along with her most of next week while school’s closed for spring break. You know how I love spending time with that child.”

  “My little sprite is coming? When was the last time she was here on the ranch? Christmas?”

  Junebug nodded and bit into a carrot. “If you’d ever get your romancin’ stick in gear and make me some grandchildren—”

  ZQ’s eyebrows furrowed and dipped like they used to before he gave his men hell. “There’s not a thing wrong with my ‘romancin’ stick,’ as you call it. Don’t start riding down that worn path, Momma. My life is fine.”