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Chapter 3

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In the morning, Cory decided to go for coffee with Marsha after all. She had a little money to spare because of Wade, and a cup of coffee at Maude’s didn’t cost that much, especially if she avoided the fancier drinks that Maude had begun to introduce, taking her cue from the major coffee chains. So far Cory didn’t think there was a huge market for “mocha decaf lattes” here, even though she loved lattes herself, but they were now available if anyone wanted them.

Marsha expressed huge gratitude for the call. In her voice, Cory heard a stress that matched her own. She hadn’t slept well at all last night, tossing and turning, one nightmare following another.

When she finally gave up trying to sleep, it was only five-thirty in the morning. She’d grabbed a book from the table beside her bed and had attempted to read for a couple of hours. In the end, though, the words might as well have been random letters, none of the story penetrated, and she thought she might have dozed a bit.

Wade must still be asleep, she thought when at last she reset the house alarm and slipped out the door. She’d been the only one to change the alarm settings since she awoke—she’d have heard the tone if anyone had—and she hadn’t heard him moving around.

Nothing strange in that, she supposed, except she had somehow expected him to be an early riser. Why? Because he’d been in the navy? Not everyone in the navy worked days and slept nights. She knew that much. Maybe he’d had some kind of night duty. Which got her to wondering what kind of work he’d done, and how he’d gotten enough medals to paper a wall, according to Gage.

Well, she could always try asking him, but she doubted he would answer. And how could she complain about that when she kept her own secrets?

It was a lovely summer morning, and she could have walked to Maude’s but uneasiness made her take the Suburban anyway. Besides, she told herself, trying to pretend she wasn’t acting only out of over-heightened fear, if Marsha really did want to get a big dog, the Suburban might be the best way to get it home.

Marsha was already there at a table with coffee in front of her. Hardly had Cory slid into a seat facing her when Maude stomped by, slamming a mug down and filling it. A little bowl of creamer cups already sat in the middle of the table.

Cory actually felt a smile twitch at the corners of her mouth. In a year she’d never bought anything here except coffee, and Maude had apparently given up on talking her into anything else. Once in a blue moon, a piece of pie would be slapped down in front of her but never show up on the bill. Interesting woman, Maude. Cory was quite sure she had never met anyone like her.

Marsha smiled at her, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes. She looked exhausted, and Cory suspected they had both spent nights filled with nightmares and restlessness.

“I’m glad that you told me a bunch of women got the same call,” Marsha said.

“I don’t know how many, but Gage indicated there were a few of us. That’s why he thinks it’s a prank.”

“Makes sense.” Marsha opened another little cup of half-and-half and lightened her coffee even more. “And I guess if a few reported the calls, there were probably more like me who never called him at all.”

“Probably,” Cory agreed. “You look like you slept about as well as I did.”

Marsha’s laugh was short and hollow. “Yeah, we look like a pair of zombies, don’t we? I just couldn’t stop thinking about Jack all night, about all the things he threatened to do to me. But it’s been almost a year, so he probably never wanted to come after me. He just wanted to scare me.”

And Marsha had plenty of reason to be scared, considering the things her ex had done to her. Cory wanted to say something reassuring, but couldn’t. How could she reassure anyone when she was living with a similar terror herself? Her pursuers might have more reason to try to track her, since she could help identify one of them as a murderer, but did that mean Marsha’s ex was necessarily less determined?

“Are you still going to get a dog?”

Marsha nodded. “I called the vet before I came here. He says he has a couple of dogs I might like and that they’re naturally protective breeds.”

“That sounds good.”

“I told him I wanted a big dog, but he recommended against it.”

“Really?”

Marsha gave a small, tired laugh. “He asked me how much I wanted to walk it, and did I want to be able to hold it in my lap …” Her voice broke, then steadied. “Sorry. I’m just tired. But anyway, the idea of a dog that would curl up on my lap sounded good, and with the hours we work, I couldn’t walk a dog at the same time of day every day …” She trailed off, sighed and looked down into her coffee.

All of a sudden, Cory felt something she hadn’t felt in far too long: a desire to protect someone besides herself. The urge rose fiercely, and burned away some of the fear.

Those men had stolen her life, but for the last year she’d let them steal her, too. She’d let them turn her into a quivering, frightened recluse whose only concern was surviving each day.

How much more twisted could she get? How could she let them keep doing this to her? She wasn’t the only person on this planet with fears and needs. Look at Marsha. What had she ever done except marry the wrong man? Yet, she, too, had been driven into a hole in the ground.

Angry, Cory couldn’t sit still another moment. She slapped some bills on the table, to cover both their coffees, and stood. “Let’s go get your dog. You need a reason to smile.”

Marsha appeared startled, but then began to grin. “Yeah,” she said. “Let’s go get that dog.”

“Cute and cuddly,” Cory said. “The cutest, cuddliest one we can find.”

Because there still had to be something good in life, and a dog was as good a start as anything else.

Conard County wasn’t a heavily populated place, so it had a limited tax base and had to cut some corners. Hence the vet and animal control shared property and kennels, and the vet, Dr. Mike Windwalker, was on retainer to care for the impounded animals. Like most small-town vets, he handled everything from horses to the occasional reptile.

A handsome man in his mid-thirties, he’d replaced the former vet five years ago and seemed to enjoy his broad-spectrum practice. He had one assistant, though he could probably have used more.

“You picked a good day to do this,” he remarked as he led Marsha and Cory back through his office toward the kennels. “I’m not very busy so I’ll have time to help you make a good match.”

As they approached the wire gate beyond which lay the sheltered kennels, the sounds of dogs barking started to build.

“They know we’re coming,” the vet said with a smile. “But before we go in …” He turned to Marsha. “I want to know a bit more about why you want a dog. Just for protection? Or would you like a companion? And can you afford much dog food?”

Marsha bit her lip, then admitted, “I’m tired of being alone so much. Yes, I want a dog that can alert me when someone comes, but I think I’d like to have one to love, too. And play with. I’d love to play with a dog. As for food—” she wrinkled her nose “—I probably shouldn’t have a dog with a huge appetite.”

At that Mike Windwalker smiled. “Then I have a couple of good ones for you. Love and protection can come in small sizes as well as large.”

Cory stayed back a bit, watching as Mike introduced Marsha to various small dogs. She didn’t want to get too interested in the process because when Wade left, unless she got a better job or more hours at her current one, she simply wouldn’t be able to take care of a pet. Nor, when she thought about it, could she have one running around at night with the motion detectors on.

But it was so hard to resist all the puppy-dog eyes. It would have been entirely too easy to choose one for herself, and she had to remind herself again and again that she couldn’t afford it.

But she felt a definite stab of envy when Marsha eventually settled on a Pomeranian. “Definitely loyal,” the vet said approvingly. “She’ll let you know any time anyone approaches the house and these dogs can be relied on to fight for their owners if necessary.” He shook his head. “People often underestimate the protectiveness of the small breeds. There are ways to get around a dog, any dog, but these small guys have hearts like lions.”

Marsha definitely looked as if she’d fallen in love. And while she naturally had a cheerful nature, it was often eclipsed behind spurts of worry. Right now, she looked as if she didn’t have a worry in the world.

“Just one caveat,” the vet said. “I offer obedience classes for free, and with this one you’d be wise to take them.”

“I will.”

“I’m starting a new class Saturday morning at nine.”

Marsha beamed at him. “I’ll be there.”

When she drove back home a short while later, Cory felt she’d managed to accomplish at least one good deed, small as it was. And it had been small. She hadn’t been able to give Marsha the dog, or even help her decide which one was best, but she suspected Martha might not have acted so quickly on her own, simply because living in fear had a way of paralyzing you. Even small decisions sometimes seemed too big to make.

And that had to stop, she told herself sternly. It had to stop now. For too long now she’d been little more than a wasted lump of human flesh.

Wade must have heard her pull up, because he was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. Apparently he’d been sleeping because his hair had that tousled look, and his blue sport shirt hung open over his jeans.

Cory couldn’t help herself. She stopped dead and stared. That was some chest, smoothly muscled, bronzed and just begging for a touch. Oh, man, as if she needed this now.

With effort she dragged her gaze upward and then wished she hadn’t, because she saw in his obsidian eyes that he hadn’t missed her look. He revealed nothing about his reaction to it, though, nor did he make any attempt to button his shirt.

“Did Marsha get her dog?” he asked before the silence got long enough that she wouldn’t be able to pretend he hadn’t noticed what she’d been noticing.

“Yes. A Pomeranian.”

“I had a buddy who had one. He called it his pocket piranha.”

The remark was utterly unexpected, and it bypassed every short circuit the past year had put in Cory’s brain. She giggled. Actually giggled.

A faint smile leavened Wade’s face. “He liked to bite my ankles.”

That seemed even funnier. “Such a stupid dog,” she giggled again.

“Stupid?”

“Taking on someone your size? That’s stupid.”

Wade’s smile widened just a hair more. “He knew I wouldn’t hurt him. Dogs have good instincts.”

She laughed again, still amused by the image. Then it struck her that he seemed to have been waiting for her. “Is there something you need?”

“Well, actually …” He hesitated. “I know the deal was I would eat out. But I was wondering, would you mind if I bought groceries and cooked for myself? I’ll leave things squared away so you won’t even notice I was in there.”

For some reason she liked the idea that he wouldn’t be leaving her alone three times a day to hunt up a meal. Amazing how far she had come in less than a day. What had initially seemed like a threat now seemed like a bulwark. Nor was this a matter she wanted to take issue over.

“I don’t mind.” Although she was a little surprised that he’d felt it necessary to say she wouldn’t even know he’d been in the kitchen. Most people wouldn’t have bothered to mention it, unless asked.

She drew a sharp breath, and all of a sudden her heart tugged. She’d heard promises like that before, unsolicited ones. You’ll never notice I was in there.

A few faces floated before her eyes, youngsters all, former students all. And she knew what phrases like that really meant. Could this big, powerful man with all his medals still carry scars like that? After all this time?

But she couldn’t ask.

“Is something wrong?”

His question shook her back to the moment. “No. Really. My mind just wanders sometimes. I think I spend too much time alone.” Her laugh this time carried no mirth, but was more of an apology.

“I’ll just go get some groceries then.”

She shook her head. “It may go against your grain to look for help, but you shouldn’t try to carry groceries home when I can drive you. Just let me get a glass of water, and then I’ll take you.”

For an instant she thought he would argue. Something about him said that he didn’t relinquish autonomy easily, or accept help easily, at least not from virtual strangers. But then he nodded. “Take your time. Obviously I’m in no rush.”

Wow, she thought as she headed toward the kitchen, at this rate they might even start to converse in whole paragraphs. She took her time drinking her water because she heard him climb the stairs again, probably to brush his hair, button his shirt and pull on some shoes.

Sure enough, five minutes later she heard him descend again. She finished her water and went out to the foyer. “Ready?” she asked, though it was clear that he was. His boots had given way to some comfortable and battered deck shoes, and he’d buttoned and brushed.

“If you are,” he replied.

She grabbed her purse and keys, saying, “Let’s go then.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?”

There it was again, a niggle. A hint. She looked at him, wishing she could just come right out and ask. But that might be a mistake, because he’d probably just get angry at her prying, and rightfully so. He hadn’t poked into her life, so she should give him the same respect.

“I don’t mind at all,” she assured him, and summoned a smile. Aware now of what might lurk in his past, she felt old lessons rising up to guide her. And the thought that she might, through her training, help this man feel a bit more comfortable made her feel better than she had in a long time. She might not be able to teach anymore, but it would be so good to help.

Always assuming, of course, that she wasn’t totally wrong about him.

The drive to the store was silent, but she was getting used to that with him, and didn’t feel as uncomfortable as she had just yesterday.

When she pulled into a parking slot, though, he spoke. “You don’t have to wait for me,” he said. “If there’s something you need to do.”

She shook her head. “Not a thing. Maybe I’ll check and see if they can give me any extra hours.”

She climbed out and locked the car. Another car pulled in nearby, and the driver, a man, appeared to be fussing through some papers. Probably lost his shopping list, Cory thought with a small sense of amusement.

Wade waited for her, then walked beside her across the parking lot, measuring his stride to hers.

“You work here?” he asked.

“Yes.” Then she volunteered, “We all had our hours cut back a couple of weeks ago.”

“That hurts. No wonder you need a roomer. How’s Marsha managing?”

“Somewhat better. She gets an alimony check.”

He paused just after they stepped through the automatic doors and looked at her. “Then her ex knows where she is.”

“Theoretically not. The court sends the checks and is supposed to keep her address private.”

He nodded. “Good thing.”

She headed for the manager’s office at the customer service desk while he got a cart and started down the aisles. Interesting that he’d expressed concern for Marsha, she thought. Apparently a real heart beat behind the stone.

The manager, Betsy Sorens, greeted her with her usual wide smile. “Sorry, Cory. No extra hours. Not yet anyway. You’re at the top of my list though when we can start adding them.”

Cory felt almost embarrassed. “Why should I be at the top of the list? That doesn’t seem right, Betsy. So many others need hours, too.”

“We all need hours, some more than the rest. You’re self-supporting. A lot of the other employees have other sources of income.”

Cory felt her cheeks color a bit. “Still …”

Betsy shook her head. “You’re a good employee. If I can do a little something for you, I will.”

A customer came then with a complaint, so Cory smiled, waved and left. Wandering around the store with nothing to buy and nothing to do felt odd. Almost without thinking, she paused occasionally to straighten the stock on the shelves.

She hated to have time hanging on her hands, and she’d certainly had too much of that in the past year. She’d once been busy almost every second of the day, between Jim and her job. Now she had endless hours of free time, and that meant too many hours to think.

Hours to think about the past, about that phone call yesterday, hours to let her fear and anxiety build when there was no real reason for it. Certainly they would have found her by now if they were going to.

She met Wade in one of the aisles and glanced into his cart. There wasn’t much there yet.

“Having trouble?” she asked.

One corner of his mouth lifted. “You might say that.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been mostly eating in mess halls or eating out of boxes for years. I know the basics about cooking, but shopping for one person isn’t as easy as I thought.”

That was a whole lot of syllables, she thought, and for some reason that made her smile. “I have an idea.”

“What’s that?”

“I hate cooking just for myself. Why don’t we take turns cooking for each other?” she suggested.

“Are you sure? You could be taking an awful gamble.”

“On your cooking?”

“What else would I mean?” he asked.

“I’m willing to take it. And if it doesn’t work out, well, I could teach you to cook. Or you could just let me do it.”

He shook his head. “No way am I going to let you cook for me every night. That wasn’t part of the deal.”

She could almost see him closing down again, as if the idea that he might lean on her concerned him. “Okay then, cooking lessons if you need them.”

That seemed to satisfy him. Armed with the idea that they’d take turns cooking seemed to loosen him up though. He started tossing more items into the cart.

“I should go buy some more groceries,” she said suddenly. “I just realized, I only bought enough for myself for a couple of days.”

“Let me,” he said. “It’ll cover the cooking lessons I’ll probably need.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but then shut it. This man absolutely needed to feel as if he wasn’t a burden. That much was clear to her so she endured it as he spent money on foods she would have ignored because of the price.

But the thought of cooking some of the dishes she had once loved to cook and eat soon had her thinking of ingredients she should buy.

“I don’t know what’s needed to cook some of this stuff,” Wade said. “Grab whatever you need.” It was enough to get her going.

Along the way she saw the man from the parking lot again. He was pushing a cart and carrying a piece of paper, and nodded when he saw her. She managed to smile back. Evidently he’d found his list.

Before they even reached the checkout, two more people had smiled and nodded at her. She was used to that when she was working and in uniform, but for the first time it struck her that folks around here might be friendly as a matter of course. Maybe she ought to make a bigger effort.

By the time they left the store with another four bags of groceries, she was looking forward to dinner.

And how long had it been since she’d last felt that way? No, she wasn’t going there, not when she was actually feeling good, feeling almost normal, for the first time in a year. There was absolutely nothing wrong with feeling good, she reminded herself. Nothing at all. Jim wouldn’t have wanted her to become the woman she had been during the past year.

The shadow that hovered over all her days tried to return when she had to deal with the alarm, but she refused to let it. No more of that, she told herself, as if something as simple as a command to herself could change her entire outlook and banish the fear that never quite deserted her.

But at least she was making an effort, and when she looked over the past day, she felt glad those kids had made that stupid call. Yes, it had thrown her into a tizzy, and yes, it had upset Marsha just as much, but in the course of reacting to it, she had helped Marsha a little bit. Now she could at least help Wade learn to cook.

A Soldier's Redemption

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