Hers to Heal Page 6

  He watched his fingertips float across her forehead and trail over the downy softness of her cheek. Her hitched breathing stirred him even more. “This isn’t the only way I think of touching you.”

  “How, then?” Her eyes searched his face.

  He inclined his head, his tongue circling her ear. She trembled in his arms. “I dream of touching you every way possible. Yet I fear how I might hurt you. Why the hell do you think I act like a block of ice around you? It’s getting harder to be the silent ass when deep down I want to be someone important to you, just as you are to me.” His lips crushed hers in total frustration.

  Nance stuck her nose between them, licking both faces. Reece pushed her away and told her to stay on her side of the bed.

  “You’ve grown important to me. Too important.” Gina bit his earlobe and tugged on it. “It drives me crazy that you won’t talk to me. Dammit, Reece, a month and not even a ‘Hi, how are you today?’ or ‘Thanks for helping me.’ Never mind a smile.”

  Reece uttered against Gina’s mouth. “You’ve had me at the edge of reason with your constant talking. For once, I’m going to shut you up, because damn if I don’t want you in the worst kind of way.”

  His lips captured hers again. Dominating. Punishing. Demanding. Tasting. Devouring. He bit her lower lip and eased it with his tongue. He sipped at her mouth, gentler now, more concerned with pleasing her than exacting revenge. Hell, what kind of a man had he become to want reprisal on a woman, especially this one in his arms? The one he’d been dwelling on for weeks, knowing she was out of his reach.

  He kissed her below her ear and she shuddered. “Baby, I’m sorry I was so damn rough. The old me would never hurt you. The new me, the person I loathe, I’m not so sure.” His lips touched hers again, gentle and yet full of fire. Because this time, she was responding. And damn, it felt so good. She tasted like heaven and peach nectar.

  She pulled back enough to growl, “Do you think I’m enjoying my attraction to you? Well, I’m not. I don’t like this at all. Not because of the loss of your arm or your snarly attitude, but because of my own issues.” She latched onto his lips again and dipped inside with her tongue, touching every part of his mouth, teeth, and tongue.

  Oh, sweet Jesus, she damn near had him ready to burst through the zipper of his jeans. He couldn’t recall being kissed like this, especially by a woman who didn’t like her attraction to him. Hell, imagine how she’d be if he fucking turned her on?

  His hand swept under the top of her scrubs, searching for skin. He groaned when his fingertips feathered over the softness of her. She arched into him and damn near purred. His cock grew harder, if that was possible. A few inches more and his hand discovered lace. He cupped her breast and a nipple rose to kiss his palm. He’d never felt anything so damn inviting. She moaned his name and he hung on to restraint by a thin sensual string.

  Dear God, he wanted to make love to her. Wanted to plunge into her heat. But what about afterward when his PTSD reared its ugly head? Damned if he’d hurt this sweet, sweet woman. He cared too much. With more regret than he could analyze at this moment, he removed his hand.

  “Are my whiskers bothering you? I don’t want to make your skin raw.”

  “No. Don’t quit. Kiss me again.”

  “Baby, we should stop. I’m not good enough—”

  “What do you mean?” Her fingers grabbed his hair and lifted his head so they were eyeball to eyeball. “Do you think you were the only person hurt serving your country? The only person struggling with the effects of war?”

  The change of topic required some of the blood to leave his cock and travel back to his brain so he could understand what the hell she’d said and, second, gather a coherent response. “No, of…of course not.” He hated the defensiveness in his voice.

  “Women were hurt, too. Are still hurt. Only a lot of us have to keep it to ourselves because no one will believe what we have to say. In the final analysis, we’ll be emotionally and mentally hurt repeatedly until we’re suicidal or leave the service—or both. We have to force all the pain deep inside and never let it out. That’s why I wear the diamond piercing in my nose. Diamonds are formed under pressure and believe me, I’ve had my share.”

  She pushed at his chest and he shifted so she could sit on the edge of the bed.

  “What happened to you?” He sat so his legs surrounded her ass and thighs. “Were you shot?”

  A bitter bark of laughter escaped. “If only.”

  His chin rested on her shoulder; he inhaled the fragrance she used on her hair and skin. It didn’t begin to calm the anger brewing in his gut. “Were you held prisoner?”

  “In a manner of speaking.” She swiped at some tears and took a deep breath. “Not by insurgents, though.”

  Well, fuck it all to hell. Some bastard had hurt this sweet, spunky woman. He knew a lot of servicewomen were sexually harassed. Touched inappropriately. Threatened if they told. How? When? His insides knotted in fiery rage as a darker thought squeezed through. Oh no. Oh, hell no. “Gina, baby, were you raped?” he whispered. Such a question to a woman was very personal. That much he understood about the vile attack on the psyche of the female gender.

  He didn’t think she was going to answer. For once this talkative woman he’d fought his attraction to was silent and breathing hard, as if the memory of what had transpired in her past was about to send her into a panic attack. He understood the feeling.

  “I…I’ve told only four people. Two were doctors and one of them was a psychiatrist, Doctor Raymond. The other two were my parents. It still hurts too much to repeat.” The words were so softly spoken, he barely heard them.

  In response, he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her quaking body to his chest. “When you’re ready, then. I won’t force you.” He planted a gentle kiss to the small part of her neck bared by the top of her scrubs.

  Nance, recognizing turmoil, crawled across the bed and laid her muzzle on Gina’s thigh. The dog’s dark eyes rose as she whined and licked the woman’s hand.

  Gina leaned her head in the crook of Reece’s neck. “Keep holding me. For the first time since that awful night, I feel safe.” She sniffed and swiped at a tear.

  Protectiveness, fierce and all-consuming, rose within his gut, burned it like acid. “I’ll give you whatever you need, Blondie. I’ve got your six.” He pressed a kiss to her soft forehead, hoping his PTSD would allow him to live up to his promise. Damned if he wouldn’t fight all its controlling demons to help this woman in his embrace. She needed a strong friend just like he did. Friend? Who the fuck am I kidding? I’ve gone way beyond thinking of her as a friend.

  Once her breathing evened out and her muscles relaxed, she stood. “I’m ignoring my patient.” She slipped a tissue from a pocket in her scrubs and wiped her eyes. “You need your stump wrapped once I put some ointment on it.”

  “No hurry.” She’d gone from Gina, the vulnerable woman, to Gina, the skilled physical therapist. His body missed her contact already. He wanted to tell her he’d listen if she ever wanted to talk about what happened, but he hated when someone said that to him. Yet, he didn’t want her to think he didn’t care, didn’t want to help her through whatever memories she struggled with. A fucking useless thought—hell, he couldn’t help himself.

  Reece took her hand and brought it to his cheek, rubbed it back and forth a couple of times while his gaze bore into hers. “So soft.” He kissed her knuckles while his eyes remained locked on her brown orbs. “Two things. You know where I am if you need anything, and I promise to talk more.”

  A tear leaked from her eye and she nodded as she dabbed it away with the crumpled tissue in her hand. “Thanks,” she whispered and began removing the supplies she’d need from her medical kit. “I can’t risk anyone finding out, especially Piper.”

  “You have my word. I won’t repeat to a damn soul whatever you choose to share.” His arm wrapped around her hips and her face lay on the top of his head. They remained like that for
several minutes in their own private cocoon of understanding and acceptance.

  Chapter 7

  ZQ stopped for a traffic light in Phoenix when it flashed to yellow. The driver behind him took offense and laid on the horn. Ashley covered her ears and cussed a blue streak. She’d certainly changed, not just in attitude but in appearance.

  Her long blond hair was cut close to her head—high and tight, like a GI recruit—and dyed black. Aviator sunglasses covered her eyes. The clothes she wore were more masculine than feminine, including the high-top Army boots. And damned if it didn’t look as if she’d bound her breasts. ZQ loved admiring the female form and he recalled her as being bustier than how she appeared today.

  “I’ll be so glad when we’re out of this freaking town, away from all the freaking noise.”

  “We’ll be on the interstate soon. Then it’ll be the roar of tractor-trailers whizzing past.” He glanced at her again. “You hanging in there, kid?”

  “I’m hanging.” Her arms folded in a protective gesture.

  “You’ve changed your hairstyle and overall appearance.”

  She glanced out the passenger window. “Keeps the freaking guys away. That’s all I care about.”

  “Freaking” must be the kid’s new favorite word.

  Once his truck hit the interstate, the tires hummed as they ate up the miles toward home. “Expect Nance to go berserk when she sees you. She’ll smother you with kisses.”

  Ashley smiled for the first time since he’d pulled in front of the YWCA where she’d been staying. “Do you think the dog will even recognize me?”

  “She will once she sees you move and smells you. I was coming from the stables when JJ rode in on his classic Harley. Boy, was I surprised! Ol’ Nance sat in the sidecar, wearing a black brain bucket with a Trident and war vet decals on the front. Even with how I’ve aged, she recognized me right away.” He barked a laugh. “She liked to kiss me to death. God, I was glad to see them both. I miss my team.”

  “Shit, Commander, you haven’t aged much. A couple gray hairs, maybe. You’re still a freaking stud. You’re lucky I trust you to keep your hands off me or I’d have to jerk the knife from my boot and slit your freaking throat.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “You think I’d let you get that damn close to me, young lady? Don’t forget, you never went through SEAL training. Navy boot camp, yeah, but you were clerical. Translations. You were brains. My men were brains and brawn.”

  She smiled and jabbed her thumb into her flattened chest. “I always respected your continual line of rampant bullshit. Never believed a lick of it, but I jumped and looked scared just the same.”

  ZQ chuckled. “Hope you still like to read. JJ’s buying you some books today. He wants you to feel at home in your quarters. You and Mom will have the only bedrooms upstairs. You’ll be sharing the same bath. The guys sleep in the new addition on the ground floor.”

  “I love reading.” She cracked her knuckles. “How many guys are at the ranch now?”

  “Three. JJ, Reece Browning, who you probably remember as Steelhead, and me. And the four ranch hands, of course. They stay in the bunkhouse on the other side of the stables. Some nights, depending on JJ’s mood, he and Nance sleep outside somewhere. It hinges on whether his PTSD is acting up or not.”

  “Does he struggle with it, too?” Her voice softened. Yeah, she still cares about him.

  “Honey, we all do. I’m over the worst of it, but I’ve been through months and months of counseling. JJ’s seeing the same psychiatrist now. It’s helping, but it’s a long difficult process. At times, it dredges up more pain than it soothes. Steelhead is barely speaking, so he has a long road ahead of him.”

  As if she had to mull all that around in her mind, they fell into a comfortable silence while his vehicle nosed its way toward Eagle Ridge Ranch. Slightly over a hundred miles from home, ZQ pulled into a gas station to refuel. “Hungry? There’s a fast-food joint across the road.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll treat you to a sandwich and a soda. Right about now, my navel’s talking to my backbone.”

  “You’ll stay with me?” Her eyebrows rose and tension lines formed around her mouth.

  Shit, he’d have to use the head at the gas station. “Sure. No one will bother you. I give you my word. Lock your door when I go inside to pay for the gas and use the restroom.”

  Once they entered the burger house, Ashley put on a defensive air. Her stance widened and she jammed her hands into her pockets.

  “Hey, want some curly fries? I’m so glad to see you, I’ll spring for those, too.” He shoulder-bumped her while they waited in line.

  Ashley shrugged. “Don’t matter a shit to me, Commander.”

  “ZQ, honey. Most everyone calls me ZQ unless they’re pissed at me. Mom, who will insist you call her Junebug, calls me Zane Austin when she’s provoked.”

  Ashley nodded. “The mom double-name tactic, I know it well.”

  They reached the front of the line and ZQ called the waitress “honey” so Ashley wouldn’t feel ill at ease when he used the term on her. He carried the tray of food to a booth.

  She unwrapped her cheeseburger and tucked into it as if she hadn’t eaten for three days. Once she crumpled the wrapper in her hand, she pulled a long drink of soda from the straw. “So, I’m supposed to call your mom Junebug?”

  “Oh, she’ll insist on it. I have to warn you, she’s always wanted a big family. For one reason or another, I was the only child. She loves having team members come to stay for a while. She calls them her ‘boys.’ ” He tipped his cup of Coke toward her. “You’ll be her first daughter and she will dote on you. Just accept her goodness and we’ll all be happy.”

  “You and your mom are tight, huh?” Ashley tipped her head back and wrapped her tongue around a curly fry, reminding him of a nine-year-old. Lord, he hoped he wouldn’t have to teach her manners. He didn’t recall her behaving like this when she was in the Navy.

  “Everyone’s tight with my mom; she won’t have it any other way.”

  —

  Ashley was all eyes when he slowed and eased the pickup onto a gravel-covered lane between a couple of Texas red buckeye trees. Just beyond were two tall wooden poles with a large sign hanging between them, declaring this as home—“Eagle Ridge Ranch.” Below in smaller lettering was “Owned by the Quinlan Family for generations, past and future.”

  “I’m really on a ranch like they show in old TV movies,” she said in awe.

  “This isn’t a ranch for show, honey, it’s a working ranch. We raise cattle, lots of Longhorns, Herefords, Black Angus, and horses. Mom has her chickens she insists on letting loose a few hours a day. Plus four pygmy goats, more for pets than anything, but they are the damndest annoying critters. Fruit trees and gardens. Although I wish she’d slow down with her age and rheumatoid arthritis. But as you’ll soon learn, she’s a woman with a mind of her own.”

  He drove around the original log house with its brick additions, past the fire pit he and the guys talked around most nights, beyond the stables into the garage. He turned to her after shutting off the engine. “Welcome home, Ashley. Stay as long as you like. I’ll get your duffel bag from the back.”

  “Boss!” Elroy, his foreman, jogged toward him. Excitement was imprinted on his face. His smile deepened the wrinkles in his leathered cheeks.

  He set Ashley’s bag on the garage floor. “Hey, man, what’s up?”

  “Magic Moon dropped her foal around ten this morning. Beautiful filly. Nice markings.”

  “Come on, Ashley. You’ll want to see this.” ZQ grabbed her elbow and jogged toward the stables. Elroy tried to keep up. “Magic Moon okay?” She was ZQ’s favorite mare with the sweetest disposition.

  “Yeah, I took good care of her. You’ll see.”

  ZQ opened the stable door. “You should have called me when her labor started.”

  “I knew you’d be drivin’ today. I didn’t want you gettin’ a speeding ticket from bein’ in a
n all-fired hurry to get back.” His ranch foreman had a strong tendency to look out for ZQ as well as the animals and property. In his opinion, Elroy was worth his weight in gold.

  “Elroy, meet Ashley Vogel. She was the translator for our team when we were In-Country. Ashley, this is the best ranch foreman in all of Texas, Elroy Blackwell.”

  Elroy, puffed up from ZQ’s compliment, touched the brim of his cowboy hat, its band stained with sweat. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  Ashley smiled in response as she clung to ZQ.

  He rounded the corner to Magic Moon’s stall, noticed the clean straw and other extra pains Elroy had taken with ZQ’s prized mare. “Hey, pretty lady. How’s Daddy’s favorite mare?” He patted her neck and she nickered before rubbing her face against his chest. “You know you get prettier every day.” He reached into his shirt pocket and wrapped his fingers around two sugar cubes. She gently picked them off his flat, outstretched hand while he rubbed her face with his other hand. “Do you have something to show me?” She turned her head and stepped aside so he could see the spindly-legged filly. “Magic Moon, you did good. What a beautiful foal. Excellent markings, wouldn’t you say, Elroy?”

  “I think so, boss. You matched her with a good stud. Looks like you got yourself a strong-lookin’ colt there. Yes, it surely does.”

  ZQ glanced at Ashley. “What do you think?”

  “She’s beautiful,” Ashley breathed. She looked over her shoulder at ZQ. “May I touch the colt?”

  “Let’s introduce you to Momma first, so she knows you’re okay. This is her first foal. She’ll be understandably protective and jittery.” He made the introductions and Magic Moon sniffed Ashley’s hands and snorted. “Move slowly toward the colt and touch her gently, honey.”

  ZQ kept rubbing and patting the large horse, his voice low and praising. Magic Moon nuzzled her owner some more. ZQ watched the care and awe Ashley used on the filly and came to a snap decision. “Elroy, I think we’ll name the colt Vogel’s Moon in honor of our new guest. I’ll do the purebred paperwork on her and get her registered right away. You did an excellent job taking care of both the mare and the filly. Not that I’d expect anything less from an old expert like you.”