Her Survivor: A Black Eagle Ops Novel Read online

  It wasn’t often one could rile the Old Man, so Dustin was quite pleased with himself and his decision. “The doctors gave me the word. I’m out of here tomorrow at oh-nine-hundred. If your invitation is still open…”

  “It is. I’ll be there. Have your comic books and pretty nightgowns packed.”

  Dustin stretched out on the bed, relieved he’d have someplace to go where people understood his moods. “Kiss my ass.”

  “Seriously, what size jeans or shorts do you want? I know you’ve lost weight and you didn’t exactly arrive there with a suitcase of clothes. Oh, and Dust?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Make sure you call your mom. Tell her where you’ll be.”

  “I will as soon as I hang up. I’ve been warming her up to the idea of my staying with friends for a while. She’s relieved to have a phone number to reach me.”

  True to his word, the next morning ZQ was standing in the doorway of Dustin’s ward at oh-eight-thirty with a bag of clothes. Even in his chambray shirt and jeans, ZQ’s haircut and military bearing gave away his past status as officer in charge. That and the Trident pin he wore over the pocket of his shirt. The Old Man was still a mass of hardened muscle, only now he had some silver at his temples. Fit, cool, and intelligent as hell, the retired commander had always been a case in point that brawn without brains would never cut it. He’d earned Dustin’s respect years ago.

  The day ZQ made him LPO, leading petty officer, of Alpha squad, Dustin knew he’d earned the Old Man’s respect as well.

  He strode over to Dustin and handed him the bag. “You’re looking good, kid, and I mean that.” A few of the men in the ward recognized ZQ and called his name. One by one, he strutted over to them, shook the patient’s hand if he still had one, exchanged a few words of encouragement, or made a joke if the patient seemed up to it. Meanwhile, Dustin got dressed. Boxers and jeans felt odd after months in hospital gowns.

  Two admirals entered the ward and waited. As soon as ZQ saw them, he trooped over and snapped a salute. They led him away from the patients to a corner for a private chat. Even though he was officially a civilian, the admirals seemed interested in hearing what he had to say, nodding and gesturing. Why? ZQ had been retired for a year. Asking questions in return, one admiral handed ZQ a manila envelope. What the hell is going on here? Is that “Confidential” stamped in red on the side?

  Dustin was officially discharged from the hospital and, after being handed a ball cap with the word “SEAL” and the Trident above the bill, was told to wear it outside to keep the sun’s rays from damaging the new skin growth around his eye. He was wheeled out to the curb where a black SUV, with ZQ behind the wheel, waited. The orderly tried to help Dustin out of the wheelchair, but he waved him away. He stood with the aid of a cane and opened the door himself.

  His crutches, both a running metal prosthesis and one for swimming, plus one tan boot were placed on the backseat by a nurse, who hugged him goodbye and wished him the best.

  The sun shone brightly now that a rainstorm had passed through the area early this morning. ZQ handed him a pair of sunglasses once he strapped himself in. “Let me know if you need to get out and move around or take a whiz. I don’t want your muscles cramping.”

  “I’ll be fine.” The last thing he wanted was to be babied. Just treat me like a man, a fuckin’ man—a whole man.

  “Yeah, your stubborn ass says so, now. An hour into our ride, you might need to stretch out, walk around the vehicle a time or two. Stopping is no big deal. We’ll hit Micky-D’s. Get a Coke.”

  Dustin gave ZQ a quick glance. “I’m not having a Coke without a freakin’ Big Mac, man, and an order of fries big enough to choke a rhino.” He hadn’t had fast food since right before the team left for Syria.

  “Not good for your health, kid.”

  “Like getting my foot blown off was?” Things grew quiet after he barked that sentiment, as the tires ate up the flat highway. He wanted to ask ZQ about the folder one of the admirals gave him. Wanted to ask in the worst kind of way, but he knew the man well enough that the only answer he’d get would be a cold stare. Serving under this commander, you soon learned his behavior patterns.

  “Were you offered a medical discharge?” ZQ’s glance shifted from the road to him.

  “Yeah, I refused it for now. I want to see how I am after more healing time and another round of PT. See if I can walk without my cane when I use the standard prosthesis. I can run fairly well with the sprinter style. Swimming’s still a little awkward with the amphibious one, but I’ll get the hang of it. Command gave me two months to make up my mind. Of course I’ll have to pass medical exams, too.”

  “We’re about halfway home and there’s a McDonald’s up ahead. Let’s make a stop. It won’t hurt you to move around for a little, give that cane a workout.”

  Inside, customers stared at Dustin’s scarred left side of his face. Murmurs scorched his ears and he tugged the bill down farther over his face. Damn, he felt like a freak and he didn’t like it. The doctors had talked about plastic surgery, but the VA wouldn’t compensate him for it if he took a medical discharge.

  Military medical had fixed his eye and the scars around it, but the skin was still pink with healing. What remained was a long scar from his cheek to his jaw and two smaller ones branching out toward his ear like tentacles. Although he wasn’t sure he wanted to use up his savings to pay for more pain of skin grafting, he didn’t know if he was emotionally prepared for the stares and pointing and whispers if he didn’t.

  ZQ paid for their food even with all his bitching about Dustin ordering two Big Macs, double order of extra-large fries, a chocolate shake, and large Coke. “You want to eat your snack in here or get our order to go?”

  For a minute, Dustin wanted to fold in on himself. Then he gathered some courage to glance around. “To go. I’m not ready for this shit.”

  Back in the vehicle and on the road, ZQ seemed bent on getting Dustin’s mind off what had happened in the fast-food joint. ZQ told him about hearing from Ashley, how close he felt she was to saying she’d come to the ranch to heal. Then he moved on to the story behind the name of the small settlement near Eagle Rock Ranch.

  Dustin crumpled his wrappers and shoved them in the bag. “That’s got to be an old Native tale. Rocks with medicinal properties? Injured Apache warriors standing under the waterfalls to get healed? Shit.” Much as he hated to admit it, his interest was piqued.

  “The town’s main street, called Waterfall Road, faces the falls and pond below them that flows into a stream. Its buildings are only on one side so as not to block the view of Warrior Falls. Other streets branch off the back of Waterfall Road.”

  “What’s the population of this place? Does it even have a traffic light?”

  “About six thousand.” ZQ chuckled. “And two traffic lights, smart-ass.”

  Six-freaking-thousand? So much for finding a physical therapist there. “How far away is the nearest town big enough to support a therapy center? I was released under the condition of getting a good workout five times a week with a certified therapist. I’ve got two months before the Navy tests me to see if I’m physically able to return to duty.” He was slowly trying to accept it wasn’t likely he’d be able to stay in, unless they gave him a desk job. That idea sure as hell didn’t appeal. He was a SEAL, dammit.

  ZQ shot him a glance. “Got that covered, Dust. I hired a PT person to come to the ranch to treat you. Gina’s been helping Mom and her arthritis for the past year, so I know she’s good.” He branched off the main highway. “I’ll drive you down Waterfall Road, show you the falls. I need to stop at Bookstore by the Falls to pick up a book for Mom.

  “The young lady running it just inherited the place and wants to rearrange things to maximize her small store. I told her you could probably give her some advice since you have a degree as an architect.” ZQ pulled into an angled, vertical parking spot in front of the quaint little shop.

  “Dammit, why did you volunteer
me for something like that?” Dustin’s temper rose. He just wanted to be left alone. He wouldn’t be ready to work for at least a month. What was the Old Man up to? Wasn’t walking into the fast-food joint enough pressure for one day? Now he was to encounter a woman and who knew how many customers? Really, all he wanted to do was go to bed and take a nap. The ride had exhausted him.

  “Meeting a few of the townsfolk won’t hurt.” ZQ slung his wrist over the steering wheel. “Besides, there’s something about Kelcee I can’t put my finger on.”

  Dustin turned his gaze to ZQ. “What do you mean?”

  “I think she’s in hiding. I sense wariness and fear in her. I thought if you met her and didn’t get the same vibe, then I’d chalk it up to too much time in the SEALs. Too much time spent constantly on the alert. You know?”

  What if she was hiding something? Hell, it was her business, not ZQ’s and certainly not his. Still, the Old Man would have no rest in his ass until Dustin did what he wanted. “Okay. Five minutes, and then I’m out of here.”

  He opened the door and used his cane to exit the vehicle. The rumble of the falls drew his attention. Leaning his arms and cane over the hood of the SUV, he surveyed the vista before him. Damn, it nearly took his breath away—a drop of rocks he judged to be fifteen feet wide and twenty feet high, a variety of trees, including weeping willows with branches bending as if to kiss the natural pool of water. Thick, green ferns, colorful flowers he didn’t recognize, and the peaceful sound of continual water movement brought its own sense of tranquility. Mist from the falls cooled the hot air a few degrees. Gray geese honked as they lazily paddled over the surface. No wonder this area birthed myths with its mystical quality.

  There were three steps to the porch in front of the store, so he made a slow lap around the vehicle to loosen up before attempting the little climb. His hospital-supplied sneakers were made to fit his titanium foot and his natural one. ZQ had bought him baggy carpenter jeans that didn’t rub his leg in the still-tender areas. Dustin wasn’t exactly wild about the Longhorn T-shirt, but he guessed it was ZQ’s way of making sure he’d fit in right away.

  ZQ held the door open for Dustin, who felt like he stepped back in time when he entered. The place was ancient, its walls held up by shelves of books, cordoned off by rows of what looked to be handmade shelves. In the back corner sat the counter and register. A door obviously led to a stairway, and an archway led to a storage area with another door to a restroom. How strong were the foundation and the walls?

  A woman with strawberry blond hair pulled back in a bun, with curls that had escaped to grace her cheeks and neck, greeted them. She wore a green short-sleeve sweater over a yellow and green flowered skirt that nearly reached her ankles and showcased her hourglass figure. On her feet were green sequined ballet slippers. Everything inside this place was old, including the new owner’s mid-’20s soul.

  He removed the sunglasses ZQ had given him to peer deeper into her vibrant green eyes. Oh yeah. This beauty definitely had a story.

  Chapter 3

  Kelcee didn’t know what to expect when ZQ spoke to her about his friend who was just getting out of the hospital. She anticipated someone frail. This man, with one earpiece of his sunglasses clamped between his teeth, towered over her and had broad muscled shoulders built for hugging. Even though one large bicep bore three jagged scars, she imagined they would deliver strong hugs in return. His face was scarred on one side and no doubt he had more scars elsewhere, especially since he used a cane.

  Being scarred like that would probably take some getting used to, particularly on the face where everyone could see them. She extended her hand. “Hello, welcome to my little book nook. My name is Kelcee Todd.”

  The man with short, wavy, dark hair removed the shades from his mouth and tucked one temple bar under the neckline of his T-shirt. He flicked his hat back, which allowed her to take in blue eyes so serious, they seemed to read the secrets of her soul. She nearly gasped as his hand encased hers and a tingle zigzagged up her arm. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Dustin Franks. ZQ said you wanted to rearrange your place.” His voice was dark and dangerous like a thunderstorm at midnight.

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat and waved her open hand between the old shelving and the cramped checkout counter. “The original owner had things to suit him. I’d like to give the shop a fresher appeal without losing any of its charm.”

  “Charm?” His gaze swept over the interior as if he were getting ready to condemn the building.

  Suddenly she wasn’t so sure she liked this guy and his square jaw with the cute indentation in it. Still, she kept talking. “The layout the previous owner had isn’t the most efficient, plus I want to be able to see people as they come in.” She paused and worried her lower lip with her upper teeth for a minute. “So I can greet them as they enter.” Or see if it’s my brother or one of his men.

  “You two talk. I have a book to pick up for Mom.” ZQ tugged a slip of paper from his shirt pocket. “It’s for that book club she belongs to, the one Wanda runs. Mom claims she picks the worst books to talk about.” He chuckled. “Too highbrow for her tastes. ‘Literary snobbery’ she calls it. I practically force her to go or she’d hide out on the ranch with Dad gone. She needs some social interaction.”

  “This month’s selection is around the corner of this row of shelves, the middle one.” She pointed to the row and ZQ meandered off. She returned her attention to Dustin, who was giving the shop some close scrutiny. His nose was scrunched as if he smelled something foul, which further ruffled her feathers. She worked hard to keep the store clean.

  “This place ever been checked for termites, being so close to the water?”

  “Of course! Every year.” She was more than ready to defend her shop.

  “Well, that’s one thing in its favor. The building’s substructure should be evaluated for stability. What about mold?”

  A haze of red lowered over her vision and her hands slapped on her hips. “Mold?”

  ZQ peeked around the corner, his eyebrows raised to his hairline.

  “Yeah, being so close to all that constantly flowing water would make it an ideal place for mold to grow. How old is this…?” He waved his fingers around as if he was searching for the right words.

  “Bookstore, Dustin,” she forced through clenched jaws. “There’s not a damn thing wrong with this building that some updating wouldn’t take care of. I drew up rough floor plans of the store. They’re to scale as best I could do. I measured the place and its windows. I’ve got it over here.”

  He followed her as she stepped behind the counter at the far side of the building. “Is this where you want to keep your register and computer?”

  She removed her drawing and a pad of graph paper from the shelf beneath the computer. “No. I’d like my computer where I won’t keep bumping my knees on this stupid shelf. But that would mean rewiring for the register and everything. And that sounds costly to me.”

  Two weeks earlier, she’d found an envelope containing some money in a drawer under Frank’s worn stockings. Her quick call to the lawyer told her anything she found was hers.

  Choosing whether to spend it on her living quarters or in the store had been a tough decision. She’d bought paint, curtains, a new mattress and box spring, and a sofa. Enough to make her new place livable and clean. Now she wished she’d saved the monetary windfall for the store. The money Frank had in the bank and her savings, she’d earmarked for future taxes and a car.

  “Here’s my drawing. I had to tape four sheets of paper together.” She opened it for him to see.

  Dustin stepped behind her and she noticed a slight limp and the gentle tapping of his cane. The fragrance of male soap overwhelmed her. He leaned over her and studied her version of a blueprint. “Not a bad drawing. I graduated as an architect before I joined the Navy. I couldn’t handle sitting inside in a cubicle all day. No view of the outside.”

  “I know what you mean. I love those large windows that al
low me to see the falls. It’s almost like being outdoors.”

  “Do you want your work counter over there?” He jerked his thumb in that direction.

  “Yes, but wouldn’t that make me more vulnerable to someone passing by?” Cripes, why did I say that? Now he’ll wonder. She twisted her neck to check his reaction to her careless remark and met his blue eyes. Oh, they were something.

  “Vulnerable to whom? Are there a lot of troublemakers in this little town?” His gaze had locked hard on her and his hand closed gently around her elbow. The warmth of his touch made her want to sigh, which was so silly she got a shade or two pissed with herself.

  She shook her head. “I can’t say. It’s nothing, really.” She’d never have said what she did if the man touching her hadn’t rattled her so by invading her space.

  “Okay, if you say so.” He removed his hand and she missed his gentle, yet almost sensual touch. “I take it these little ovals are the windows since you’ve noted their size.” He kept staring at her, or so it seemed.

  She swallowed and forced her gaze to stay focused on his eyes and not drift to his scars. “Yes. And these little parenthesis thingies indicate doors. The little x’s are outlets.” She pointed to indicate what she meant.

  “Well, you’re certainly thorough. I don’t see the front porch on the drawing.”

  “No. It stays as is. Men come here every day to play checkers or chess. Women like the wooden rocking chairs to sit and rest a spell, listen to the falls, and gossip.”

  “Do these people bring you any income? If they don’t, you could close off the porch and increase your floor space and bottom line.”

  Was the man deaf? She adored her front porch, and when business was slow, she sat on one of the rockers, too. Her potted flowers and hanging plants were her pride and joy. “No! The porch stays as is. I love it.”

  He shifted his shoulders and looked down his nose at her. “Okay, but it’s a bad business decision, if you ask me.”