Chapter Six

Grenades exploded, sending men flying. Blood splattered and cries of pain and fear burst out over the desert mountain landscape. With no shelter besides a few armor-plated vehicles, men either stood their ground or dove for cover. Those still capable grabbed up a weapon and fired, defending themselves and their unit. Dusty glanced to the side, finding the fixed eyes of his best friend staring his direction. Sharp shards ripped through him even as fury rushed to the fore. With a battle cry, he grabbed his weapon, rushed ahead and put down a scathing flurry of bullets. The next instant he went airborne as another roadside bomb detonated.

Sucking in great gulps of air, Dusty opened his eyes and sat up. Ben cuddled close, whining and licking his owner’s face. For a long moment, Dusty fought to quell the images still running amok in his mind, their claws buried deep in his memory, stubbornly refusing to budge each time he tried to banish them. His heart still pounding, he wrapped an arm around Ben and buried his face in the coarse fur, finally managing to pull himself from the nightmare and back into the present.

Darkness surrounded them, the only light from his alarm clock. Glancing up, he found the time. Three-fifteen.

“Shit.” He sighed heavily and looked into Ben’s knowing eyes. “Yeah, another one. I know you have them too.”

Ben sat up and leaned his entire body against Dusty, tucking his head under Dusty’s chin.

Smiling briefly at the comforting snuggle, Dusty did nothing more than pet his dog. Ben had always been there for him during the war­—not only as a protector and detector but also as a friend. Without Ben, Dusty might have lost his humanity and his sanity. Instead they’d worked as a team, supported each other and had finally came home together, although a bit rough and worn for the experience.

White hairs covered Ben’s muzzle, signifying his advanced age. Once again, Dusty wondered how much time his friend had left and felt a deep pang in his heart at the thought of losing Ben. The downside to having pets was to lose them in the end. Nature’s way. Yet he didn’t know what he’d do without his constant companion who understood so much more than most people could.

He ruffled the dog’s hair once more. No sense in trying to return to sleep, not when he still suffered the adrenaline charge from his harrowing dream. He could sit in bed and stare at the clock or he could do something useful. “What do you say we get an early start on breakfast?”

Ben woofed softly and jumped off the bed.

Dusty followed.

* * * *

“Good morning.” April walked through the main gate with a wide smile on her face.

He blinked and gave her a droll stare, not in the mood for bubbly cheerfulness this morning. After a quick meal of toast, he’d gotten to work—thrown laundry in, scrubbed the kitchen, even cleaned his bathroom until the entire area gleamed with freshness. By the time he’d finished the clock had struck five, close enough for feeding time in his book.

Afterward he’d gone about grooming the horses and was working on the third one when his persistent new boarder strolled in.

Ben trotted over, his tail wagging happily. She stopped to lavish attention on him, speak to him and even slip him a dog treat, which he ate with relish. With a giggle, she approached the stud’s stall, where he presently brushed Rule’s golden hide.

“Either you’re early or I’m late.” Her gaze darted to the empty buckets in the stalls.

“You’re neither.” He clipped the words, irritated with her already. In his rational mind he knew she wasn’t to blame for his surly mood and didn’t deserve his harsh tongue, yet, he also didn’t feel up to catering to her whims today. Why couldn’t she be like the other boarders who came and went sparingly? He much preferred to hang out alone throughout the day, not babysit a yappy blonde lady with nothing better to do on her vacation than shadow him.

Her head jerked up and her blue eyes pinned him with fire and intrigue.

Maybe if he pissed her off, she’d go away for the day and leave him in peace.

“I see. Well, I’ll just care for my horses and stay out of your way today.” With the quiet but haughty answer, she grabbed up a couple of brushes and headed toward the large end stall containing her animals. First she brought out Mischief and tied him to the door. After a touch up brushing session and quick check of his feet, she returned for the filly. Miracle balked at being tied at first, yanking back against the rope, but soon quieted with April’s quiet voice and touch. A carrot split among the two seemed to seal the deal for the moment.

He finished with Rule, grabbed a lead rope and led his stallion from the stall. The stud made a beeline for Miracle and snuffled her before Dusty tugged insistently on his halter. “Not happening, boy.”

As if understanding, the palomino snorted, then ambled along all the way to the small pasture.

Dusty released him, noting the colors of dawn spreading across the horizon. Another pretty day if you liked baking under the sun and bathing in your own sweat. With a grumbled curse at the weather, he walked back to the stable.

By the time he entered, he found April finishing up with her horses. Without pausing he walked right up to Miracle, untied her and took control of her halter. Her eyes rolled and showed white. Speaking softly, he soothed the nervous horse. “That’s it. Just me again. Nothing to get your water hot about.”

For a few minutes he did nothing more than stand there and speak to the animal. Finally, when she quieted, he reached up to lightly scratch her neck. Her ears flicked and she sidled away. He held his ground, continued with his motions, and never stopped speaking to her. She calmed, lowered her head and held still. “That’s my girl.” He dug a sugar cube from his pocket, placed the treat on his palm and held his hand out to the filly’s muzzle. She sniffed for only a second before eagerly accepting the reward.

Mischief nudged him hard in the rear.

Dusty shook his head and turned around. “Feeling left out?” He offered up another bit of sugar, which the gelding gobbled down as if someone might steal his gift if he didn’t hurry up and swallow.

“Wow. I still can’t believe she’s standing there letting you pet her.” April’s soft voice carried to him.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he untied the mini and led both horses to their pasture. By the time he set them loose, she’d brought a couple of the geldings and handed them over.

“This is my job.” He took control of the leads, put both animals in the field, then unsnapped the ropes from their halters to set them free for the day.

“I like to help.” She waited for him to close the gate and start back toward the stable.

“There’s no discount for picking up some of the chores.” His voice came out terse and flat.

She stiffened as if insulted. “I didn’t expect one.” She hurried to keep up with his long strides.

Irritable, he frowned down at her. “When are you going to go back to work again?”

April gasped. “What’s with you today? I thought we’d found some sort of truce over the past couple of days. Today you’re snapping at me like I’m the Wicked Witch of the West come looking for your boots to wear.”

Her wording almost put a grin on his face. Almost. “Maybe I need some alone time.” He stopped and turned to face her.

Their gazes met. Neither looked away.

“You haven’t slept.” The words tumbled out of her mouth like pebbles plinking down a hillside. She studied his face. “You’ve got dark circles and lines of fatigue.”

He ground his back teeth, pulling on his patience. “Nice to know I look like shit this morning.”

So he hadn’t gotten much sleep. No biggie. He’d gone days without as a SEAL. His mind and body still functioned and he could perform just as well. Besides, he’d suffered more sleepless nights than he could remember, all part of the package when one returns from war.

“I didn’t say that. Dang, you’re testy.” She planted her hands on her hips. “If you must know, you look as gorgeous as ever.” Color rushed to her face. He’d bet his bottom dollar she hadn’t meant to confess her observation. Too late. The words soothed his inner restlessness a smidgen.

“I’ve heard most war veterans suffer from nightmares. Some from post-traumatic stress disorder with flashbacks and other distressing symptoms.”

He scowled and began walking again.

“There’s no shame in admitting you have bad dreams,” she hollered after him.

He spun around on a dime. “Listen, lady, because I’m only going to say this once. I don’t speak about that part of my life. Ever. Got it?” He bit off each word and spit them out like rotten peanuts.

She blinked, then slowly nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. And for your information, if I feel anything about my service, it’s definitely not shame.” He turned on his heel and marched back toward the stable.

She ran to keep up. “I never said your service was shameful.”

He didn’t slow up in the least while wondering what it would take to drive this pesky woman away.

“I said there’s no shame in having bad dreams.”

He opened the gate and closed it right behind him.

“Damn it. Would you just stop and listen for a second?” She unlatched the gate, let herself through and hurried after him once more.

He stopped, crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her.

She approached, a bit out of breath from her near run from the outside fields. “Your service is to be commended and you have more honor and bravery in your little pinky than most people have in their whole bodies. There are a hundred reasons for you to hold your head high and I applaud your courage in doing things most of us couldn’t.” She sucked in a breath. “I’m not trying to dig through your personal life or trying to tell you what to do.”

“I—”

She raised a hand to his lips. “Please, just hear me out.”

When he lifted his chin ever so slightly, she removed her fingers. He found the gesture somewhat soothing. Her words eased some of his turmoil and reminded him some people actually looked up to those who were lucky enough to return from the front lines.

“Dusty, I care for you. That’s all. I just care.”

The hushed words hit him like a fast-moving thunderstorm. Abrupt and powerful at first, then simmering down to a gentle rain afterward.

Unable to resist, he cupped her chin in his hands. Slowly, allowing her plenty of time to step back, he lowered his lips to hers. Softly, he plied her mouth, then tilted his head, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against his body.

His shaft stood up and took notice, not just of the beautiful woman in his arms, but of the brushing of her body against his, the light caresses that set his blood on fire.

April gasped. He took advantage, slipped his tongue inside, tangled with hers and circled for a taste of the spitfire blonde who was too stubborn to take a hint.

Hesitant at first, April gradually began to respond, as if testing out the waters in a novel experience. She met his tongue then licked across his lips, exploring his mouth like he imagined she would the rest of his body, with open curiosity and gentleness.

When she hit her stride, Dusty nearly groaned. She mirrored his actions while resting her arms around his neck. Leaning against him, she gave everything back to him with gusto. He deepened the kiss, sought more of her passion and ratcheted up the affectionate act with enough heat to rival the midday sun. Placing his hand on the back of her head, he steadied her as he changed the angle and pushed her to the point of breathlessness.

Reluctantly, he eased back, letting their lips cling for a moment longer before separating. He drew in a deep breath and read her face. April’s blue eyes shone brightly, full of surprise and longing. Her lips were slightly swollen from his attentions and pink stained her cheeks as she panted like she’d just run a mile full out. Pleasure radiated from her face as she stared up him with awe and perhaps recently discovered need.

“Amazing,” she whispered.

He rubbed his thumb across her lips. Not entirely comfortable with her praise and the expression on her face, he released her completely, turned around and headed to the nearest stall.

She posed too much of a threat to his hard-won control and challenged his rule of only pursuing women for the purpose of a one-night stand. April wasn’t a hot to trot woman who enjoyed man-hopping any more than he was a man who sought commitment and the stability of marriage.

Oil and water.

He attached more lead ropes and continued the task of moving horses from stalls to the fields outside, kicking his own ass the entire way.

What in the hell came over me? Either he needed to get laid badly or the lack of sleep had severely affected his judgment.

One glance found April still standing as before, staring at him with wonder in her soft eyes.

He cringed and berated himself more. I’m such a dumbass. Give the woman the totally wrong impression next time. Sarcasm laced his thoughts as he debated beating his head on a nearby fence post. He snorted and strode quickly back down the worn path.

* * * *

That kiss. That absolutely decadent kiss. For the twentieth time so far that day, April recalled the moment Dusty had sealed his mouth over hers and forever changed her opinion of kissing.

She’d read romance novels that spoke of embraces of pure passion, where a simple kiss sounded nearly as intoxicating as sex. A big time exaggeration and a way to ensnare the reader, drag them in and leave them begging for more. Nice sales tactic, but far from reality. She didn’t believe in fairy tales, no matter how unbelievably hot the kiss.

Until today.

Her stomach did another slow, exquisite flip. One of many since Dusty had poured delightful magic over her, infusing her with newfound desire.

I sound like a lovesick fool. She frowned. Sure, it happened to be the best kiss ever, but that didn’t really mean anything in the long run. Her track record with men could be considered dismal and Dusty didn’t say another word after walking away. He’d just left her standing there, mouth gaping open, with a dozen questions running through her mind.

They still did. All with no answers forthcoming.

With a frustrated sigh, she grabbed up a pitchfork and began mucking stalls. No sense standing around batting her eyelashes and looking like a freshman with her first crush on the bad boy senior. She’d long since left her teens—and high school—behind. Besides, college had taught her a few lessons about dating and the opposite sex. Enough for her to tread carefully before leaping into any relationship. Avoiding the whole fiasco sounded more rational than risking her heart once again.

She entered the nearest stall and started cleaning, picking up dirty hay and manure, then tossing it into the nearby wheelbarrow. Dusty walked by leading another pair of horses. He didn’t even glance in her direction.

And there you go.

He’d obviously reacted on some impulsive instinct and now regretted his actions. As much as she wanted him to march over and treat her to another sampling of his kissing abilities, she knew that once again she dabbled in a dream. A man who’d been hurt so badly that Lois, one hundred miles away, would hear about the unfortunate situation, had to have deep scars and a shield of steel encasing his heart.

Too bad. If he ever allowed himself to open up again, the lucky woman would most likely find herself wrapped in a love so wonderful she’d dance in happiness for the rest of her days.

With that sad thought, she attacked her chore with exuberance.