Her Survivor: A Black Eagle Ops Novel Page 4

  Owen and Clint ambled onto the porch, glanced in the windows, and waved at her before sitting down at the checker barrel. She hiked her chin, her temper rising. This yahoo didn’t know a thing about her adopted town. “Well, I didn’t ask you.”

  His blue eyes turned stormy. “May I take this with me?” He folded her blueprint.

  “Yes, of course. Take this pad of graph paper to work on. I won’t have any need for it.” She handed it to him. “My number is on the back of the pad. Call when you want to come in to talk or do any work. No hurry. I’ve just finished cleaning out the upstairs apartment and repainting. Frank, the man who I worked for and willed me this place, wasn’t one for keeping things up-to-date. Although, when both his stove and refrigerator stopped working, he did have the kitchen remodeled last year. He even asked me to help pick out cabinets and appliances.”

  They’d had such fun. He’d teased her about turning a man’s kitchen into a girly room and she’d teased him about wanting every square inch of the room black. They’d compromised with cherry wood cabinets, matching wood flooring with black appliances, and black-and-white-speckled granite counters. To her surprise, he’d agreed to the white wallpaper decorated with baskets filled with bright red strawberries.

  Lord, she did miss that old man and his sweet, yet grumpy ways. Whoever he took under his wing was safe. Now that measure of protection was gone, and she’d have to put on her big-girl panties and deal.

  “I have people coming later today to remove some of his furniture. The worn bedding, for one. Plus, I sat on the sofa the other week and had to roll out of it, the springs were so shot.”

  He never smiled at her weak attempt at humor to lighten their discussion. Maybe the guy didn’t smile much anymore. Folks said war messed with people’s minds.

  “Do you have any books on the history of this town? Those falls, especially?”

  “Yes. Two, in fact. Want me to get them for you?”

  His dark eyebrows wrinkled like a caterpillar. “No, I don’t need your freakin’ help. I can get them myself. Just tell me where they’re shelved.”

  Well, wasn’t he a grumpy ass? Imagine having his sour mood around all the time. She jerked the papers from his hand. “Look, we’ve both been railroaded into this working-together business. If the idea of being around me doesn’t appeal to you, fine. Suit yourself. If you’re still interested in the books about the legends concerning Wounded Warrior Falls, they’re in the second row on the right, third shelf up.”

  He stormed off, his cane thumping louder. Well, he wasn’t getting any sympathy from her. She often got books for her customers. They liked a little special attention. All the stores in this town operated on the same “spoil the customer and he’ll be back” principle. This man would have to get used to the way things were done in Warrior Falls.

  ZQ sauntered over with a book in his hands, leafing through it. “I can hear Mom bitching now. Did I hear raised voices a second ago?”

  “Your buddy wants to do away with my front porch. You know how everyone loves it just the way it is.” She jerked her chin in Dustin’s direction. “He says I could increase my bottom line if I close it in and fill it with more books. Well, I’m not having it. I don’t know why you shoved the two of us together. He obviously isn’t interested in helping.”

  She placed a hand on ZQ’s arm. “I don’t mean to seem ungrateful, ZQ. You know how I love this place with the porch and all. It’s just I don’t have the money for a lot of expensive repairs. I’ll figure out a way to rearrange things myself as I get the time and the extra funds. I don’t need someone hanging around who doesn’t like me or my store.”

  “Now, Kelcee, don’t let that redheaded Irish temper get the best of you.” The corners of ZQ’s mouth twitched. She bet he had a way with women. All of them here in Warrior Falls sighed over his six-foot-six frame. Dustin was a couple inches shorter, probably six-four. She shook her head, jarring her thoughts back to ZQ. He probably had his momma wrapped around his little finger, baking him cookies and all his favorite dishes.

  The cane’s pounding grew closer and two books were slapped onto the counter. “Ring up my purchases, please. Do you take Visa here or aren’t you that far advanced yet?”

  ZQ’s head whipped in Dustin’s direction, and his jaw clenched as if he couldn’t believe his buddy had spoken to her like that.

  She heaved an irritated sigh. “Can’t you see there’s a customer in line ahead of you? A polite customer?” ZQ cuffed Dustin on the back of his head as she rang up the book for ZQ’s mom.

  Dustin kept glancing around as if he hadn’t a clue how rude he’d been. Then he spotted Owen and Clint while she bagged ZQ’s purchase. “I see you’ve got two freeloaders on your charming porch.”

  She rang up Dustin’s books and swiped his card. “Yes, and as soon as you leave, I’m taking them some iced tea and homemade cookies. And I just dare your sour-ass disposition to say one word about it. Normally I’m one of the nicest people you’d ever want to meet…”

  “You mean like a copperhead snake?” He punched in the PIN for his card while she jammed his books into a bag. Then he scooped up the floor plans she’d snatched from him earlier.

  “You can’t have those!” She extended her hands to grab them back.

  He leaned over the counter so they were almost nose-to-nose. “And why not? You drew them for me, didn’t you?”

  Sweet Jesus, those eyes of his. She’d have to work hard at ignoring them. Because of her unwanted attraction, she pointed to the door. “Out! Something about you grates on my nerves.”

  “What? My scars?”

  “Oh, get over yourself. So you have scars. BFD.” She fisted a hand at her waist. “I have a teacup ass. ZQ has big feet. None of us is perfect.”

  ZQ looked down at his boots.

  Dustin grabbed her upper arm and forced her partway around as he barked a laugh. “A…a teacup ass? Hell, woman, there’s no way you could get all that delightful rear end into a teacup.”

  Heat burned her cheeks and her fingers curled into fists. How much time would I get in jail for belting an injured SEAL? “Really? Really! Oh, you don’t even want to go there with me.” She exhaled a sigh that implied he was a freaking idiot. “Look, it’s an old saying. My Irish grandmama Fiona, who also had a teacup ass, used to brag on mine. It’s when a woman’s behind juts out so suddenly it makes a little shelf or table one could set a tiny teacup on and it wouldn’t slide off or the tea wouldn’t spill. Now I suggest you hit the road and don’t let my door slam your feel-sorry-for-me ass on the way out. Whatever scars you’ve got, you earned honorably. Wear them with pride.”

  Dustin pivoted, bags and papers in hand, and marched for the door.

  “Gee, that went well, all things considered.” ZQ looked over his shoulder, shot her a wide smile, and winked.

  Dustin scowled at ZQ. “Kiss my ass, you big-footed bastard.”

  Kelcee was never so glad to see a customer leave, even if he did have broad, solid shoulders and eyes a woman could dip her soul into.

  —

  Beneath the jovial façade, ZQ was boiling mad. He had half a notion to toss Dust into the pond and watch him take his temper out on the geese. What the hell had gotten into him? Had the stresses of the day triggered his PTSD? ZQ stepped out onto the porch and stopped to say hi to Clint and Owen. He’d planned on introducing Dust to the men, but the kid stomped his way to the SUV. He didn’t even bother to acknowledge the two seniors. ZQ made his apologies and told them his traveling buddy was due for pain medicine. He asked after their health and bid them a good day.

  As he approached the driver’s side of the SUV, he tried his best to cool down. Hell, he’d given his parents fits when he first left the SEALs. There were many PTSD outbursts until his mother cornered him, waving a frying pan at him as she ranted. Hell, she’d called him everything but a horse’s ass. He snorted a quiet laugh. If he remembered correctly, that expression might have tumbled from her angry lips, too. It was
a day he’d never forget. He started the vehicle. Hell, there were so many bad days crowding his brain.

  He backed the SUV out of the parking space before he glanced at Dust. “You wanna tell me what all that fuckin’ attitude with Kelcee was about? I didn’t hear you say one kind word to that sweet woman about the bookstore or her. Termites? Mold, for God’s sake? And a decent guy never insults a woman’s ass. What the hell, man?”

  “Now I get it. You’re trying to fix us up, aren’t you? This has nothing to do with that ramshackle building.”

  ZQ braked at the traffic light and took a deep breath. “Maybe it was in the beginning, but I can see now you’re not good enough for her. You leave her the hell alone. As for that building, it’s as sound as sound can be. All the kid wants is some advice on how to best utilize her space and freshen up the appearance. You seemed the most logical with your degree. Now, I don’t want you near the place. JJ and I will help her. My fault. I hit you with a possible job too early after your discharge. I was only thinking of you being out in public a couple hours a day. It’s too easy to hide and lick your wounds.”

  “Easy for you to say, you’ve got both feet.”

  ZQ set his jaw, peeled onto the highway, and drove a mile before turning onto a narrow road with more twists and turns, each one as familiar as the lines on the palm of his hand. He slowed and eased onto a gravel-covered lane between two Texas Red Buckeye trees. Just beyond were two tall wooden poles with a large sign hanging between them, proclaiming this as home—“Eagle Ridge Ranch.” Below in smaller lettering was “Owned by the Quinlan Family for generations, past and future.”

  “If you don’t soon get married and have a kid, there won’t be any future generations.” It was the first time Dust had spoken since the incident at the traffic light. “Maybe you ought to be the one going after Ms. Teacup-ass, instead of me.”

  “Watch your language when you talk about her; maybe I just will. ʼCause for damn sure, you don’t know how to pour on the charm when it comes to the fairer sex.” Maybe if he kept egging Dust on, he’d get pissed and start paying Kelcee some attention. She was a helluva nice woman. Not ZQ’s type, but endearing just the same. Everyone in town spoke well of her, except for Wanda, but she was an impossible woman to please. Still, she took care of his many physical needs.

  “I don’t usually behave like that. I don’t know what the hell came over me. I looked into her eyes. They’re the wildest shade of green, almost golden depending on her mood. The last thing I want…the very last thing I want, after Hailey, is to be attracted to a woman.” Dust had his nose to the passenger-side glass. “Hell, how big is twenty-two thousand acres? I come from the city. I have no frame of reference. Not even after our time in Iraq and Afghanistan with miles and miles of sand or rocky mountains, to say nothing of our mission in Syria.”

  “I’ll get you on a horse in a month or so, and we’ll ride over part of the range. I’ll show you my Longhorns. I’ve got a few hundred Herefords, too.” He eased the SUV into the garage behind a combination historical log and modern brick house, and both got out. ZQ pointed to the chairs at the fire pit. “Grab a seat. JJ and Nance will soon be here to greet you.”

  Dust glanced at him with a questioning expression. “I don’t know if I can handle Nance’s weight.”

  “And you won’t know until you try. She’s trained. Give a grunt and she’ll get down.” ZQ hadn’t expected this change in Dust’s outgoing nature, but it was one of the signs of PTSD. Once ZQ allowed his parents to help him through the different layers of hell he’d brought home, change slowly began in his life. Now, it looked like he’d have to be this kid’s dad for a while.

  Dust settled into a chair. ZQ put his thumb and index finger in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle before he took a seat himself. “Nance! JJ, Dust is here.”

  Nance charged out of the stable, halted, and watched Dustin. JJ ambled through the open door, leading a horse. The dog’s owner told him to go get Dust.

  “How’s my baby girl? Dance for me, Nance.”

  The dog barked as she cleared the wooden fence in one leap. She whined and wiggled her behind so badly she could barely run to reach him.

  “Looks like she hasn’t forgotten you.” ZQ hoped to encourage Dust and put him in a better mood.

  A visual change came over the belligerent SEAL. “Nance! Dance for me, Nance. Aren’t you the prettiest thing?”

  The dog squatted to pee and then leaped onto Dustin’s lap. If the dog could have eaten him whole in pure delight, she would have. Doggie kisses were bestowed everywhere and Dustin returned several himself as he petted her fur. Eventually, she jumped down, smelled his amputee foot, and laid her head on it.

  JJ clasped Dustin’s shoulder. “Good to see you, man. Bet your ass is tired from the ride here.”

  “Hell, it’s more sore from the chewing-out the commander gave it when I didn’t fall for the girl he was trying to fix me up with. Claimed he was taking me to some bookstore under the guise of working on helping her organize the building.”

  “You should have heard him, JJ. He showed his ass like a sissy.” ZQ crossed a foot over his other knee.

  “Nance, I’m being picked on.”

  The dog leaped onto Dustin’s lap and bared her teeth at ZQ.

  “Hey, baby girl, he made me mad.”

  She jumped off Dustin’s lap and onto ZQ’s and bared her teeth at Dust. All three men laughed at the German shepherd’s fickle allegiance. She’d always protected everyone on the team.

  ZQ petted her head as he spoke to JJ. “Kelcee does need a couple days’ worth of help. Think you feel up to doing some rewiring for her computer and cash register, so she can move her checkout counter from the back of the store to where she can keep an eye on the door? See who’s coming in and going out?”

  “Sure.”

  “Dust, where’s that blueprint Kelcee drew up? Hand it here so we can go over it.”

  ZQ beckoned with his hand and Dustin’s jaw hardened. Would he comply or refuse his command? After a minute of hard glaring, Dust reached for the paper on the ground beside his chair, and leaned forward to hand it to ZQ.

  “There, one less thing for you to deal with.” ZQ could have sworn Dust narrowed his eyes.

  “JJ, why don’t you look it over while I show Dust his quarters. He’s probably due for some meds and rest. Breaking out of the hospital was hard on all of us.”

  Dustin stood and grabbed his cane. “JJ, good seeing you. I’m glad you’re here. You and Nance both. Two of my favorites. ZQ, even though you have a knack for pissing me off, man it’s good spending time with you again. I mean, how else can I get under your tough old hide?”

  Chapter 4

  Dustin swallowed some pain and antidepressant medicines. He removed his sneakers, shucked his jeans, and unhooked his prosthetic lower leg and foot. Today was the longest he’d worn the apparatus, and after removing the protective covering for his stump, he was almost glad to have the air from the ceiling fan hit it. He tugged on the shrinker, or elastic sock, to aid in circulation while his pain meds worked and he slept.

  The room ZQ assigned him was thankfully on the ground floor with a private bathroom. Two exits—one to the rest of the house and one leading outside—were designed for making life easier. There was a king-sized bed, nightstand, chest of drawers, and closet. Nothing fancy, but adequate, and Dustin suspected things were set up that way to encourage men to leave their rooms and interact with others. The Old Man always had a reason for doing things—like taking him to that decrepit bookstore today.

  A large wad of shame niggled at his gut as he replayed the scene in his mind. He couldn’t deny he’d acted like an ass. The experience at the McDonald’s earlier still had him in a foul mood when he stomped into the bookstore, and he’d taken it out on someone who’d tried to be kind. Kelcee had never once stared at his scars or treated him different in any way.

  Even though they’d exchanged heated words, there were some things about her he found
intriguing, but in his condition it was best not to go there. He wouldn’t wonder how long or soft her strawberry blond hair was when it was free from the tight bun she wore it in today. Nor would he think about how the golden flecks in her green eyes, ignited with anger, made him want to provoke her more, just to see the beautiful phenomenon again. And for damn sure, he didn’t want to consider how her plush curves would feel against his body.

  For the first time since the explosion, he hardened at the thought of a woman. Nice to know that part of his anatomy still worked. Too bad it would take a special kind of woman to want him now—scars, stump, and mood swings.

  What he really wanted to know was why she carried a load of wariness on her soft shoulders. As usual, ZQ was right. She was hiding from someone.

  Moving her checkout counter with an extension for her computer to one of the windows would be ideal. With this setup, she’d be near the door to greet her customers. He could imagine a comfortable upholstered chair in the corner for her to sit on and read when business was slow.

  Why was she worried about being easily seen from the street? She mentioned sitting on the front porch when business was slow. What was the difference? The difference was fear. Fear made you think in a skewed way. Normal things didn’t make sense when you were frightened out of your wits. Maybe he needed to sketch the idea out and present it to her again. She might open up about why she didn’t want to be stationed in front of the windows.

  He rolled to his side and reached for the pad of graph paper Kelcee had given him and then snatched his cellphone off the nightstand. Time to man up. He dialed the number she’d written on the back of the tablet in neat penmanship using purple ink, with flowers doodled around it, scrolls and all. She was a whimsical person, hiding something behind it. He could sense it in her eyes and hear it in her voice when she protested moving the register to the window.

  “Bookstore by the Falls. How can I help you today?”