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Falling For The Hometown Hero
Mindy Obenhaus
The Soldier’s Second ChanceAfter returning home wounded from an IED attack, former soldier Kaleb Palmer is hailed as a hero. But survivor’s guilt makes him feel like a fraud. He hopes setting up a new business in Ouray, Colorado, will give him a new purpose and help him forget. But his new office manager has her own plans. Grace McAllen brings light and hope wherever she goes, and she’s getting Kaleb to open up. As she helps him make Mountain View Jeep Tours a success, Kaleb realizes a happy ending is in reach, if he can convince Grace to stay in town—and his life—forever.
The Soldier’s Second Chance
After returning home wounded from an IED attack, former soldier Kaleb Palmer is hailed as a hero. But survivor’s guilt makes him feel like a fraud. He hopes setting up a business in Ouray, Colorado, will give him a purpose and help him forget. But his new office manager has her own plans. Grace McAllen brings light and hope wherever she goes, and she’s getting Kaleb to open up. As she helps him make Mountain View Jeep Tours a success, Kaleb realizes a happy ending is in reach, if he can convince Grace to stay in town—and his life—forever.
“Are you sure you’re all right, Grace?”
Kaleb was the kind of guy who would listen attentively and do his best to comfort her. And the comforting was what worried Grace. It would be so easy to fall into his strong arms and believe that all was right with the world.
So, for her boss’s sake as much as her own, she’d just have to fake it. “Yeah. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”
“I hope you’re not getting sick.” He moved toward her, his concern mounting.
“I’m fine. I just…” Tell him. Give the guy a chance. “I didn’t sleep well last night.” No fibbing there.
Wiping his hands on a shop rag, he continued to study her. “That would explain the bags under your eyes.”
Did he just…? “Bags? What do you mean?”
He laughed. “There’s the spitfire we all know and love.”
Love?
Still laughing, he closed the distance and gave her a hug. “Sleep well, Grace.” He smelled of fresh air and masculinity. She missed him as soon as he stepped away. “And remember, I’m always here if you need me.”
It took MINDY OBENHAUS forty years to figure out what she wanted to do when she grew up. But once God called her to write, she never looked back. She’s passionate about touching readers with biblical truths in an entertaining, and sometimes adventurous, manner. Mindy lives in Texas with her husband and kids. When she’s not writing, she enjoys cooking and spending time with her grandchildren. Find more at mindyobenhaus.com (http://www.mindyobenhaus.com).
Falling for the Hometown Hero
Mindy Obenhaus
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
He heals the brokenhearted
and binds up their wounds.
—Psalms 147:3
To all of our wounded warriors.
May God bless you richly.
Acknowledgments (#ulink_e1e29241-c355-508a-8ad8-f7449c008e93)
For Your glory, Lord.
To my amazing husband, Richard. I am so blessed to have you in my life. Your support carries me through the toughest of times. Thank you for countless brainstorming lunches and for your desire to help me achieve my goals.
To my guys, Ryan and Michael: y’all endured countless leftovers, pizza and pot pies and had to forego many a homemade treat for this one. Thanks for allowing me to do what I do.
Thanks to Lisa Jordan for stepping in the gap and allowing me the privilege of being your “Rachel.”
To Becky Yauger: missed you, girl. So glad you’re back.
Thank you Robert and Mary Ellen Bolton, motorcycle couple extraordinaire, for enlightening me on the world of motorcycle travel.
Many thanks to Vanessa Villanueva, LVN, and Yvonne Brefo, RN, for the medical info.
To Brandy Ross for rockin’ the pink shirt and putting up with the silliest of questions.
To Ted and Betty Wolfe for your friendship and guidance.
To Noah Galloway: I knew nothing about you when I started this book, but seeing you on Dancing with the Stars gave me so much more insight. You are an inspiration to all of us.
Contents
Cover (#u1bdc83c6-0acf-5906-bef5-dc1c9da5c8aa)
Back Cover Text (#u8d04b9bb-4e77-56b5-bfaa-95c9f3431ca1)
Introduction (#u54e107da-baf8-5480-b46c-5d821d4426c1)
About the Author (#u3763b4c2-7c0a-587e-b373-da31d078f8da)
Title Page (#ub9de84d7-d80a-5d90-89fc-f14fd81fea53)
Bible Verse (#u1641e997-21b6-53a4-b9d9-def1f7e30d29)
Dedication (#u51992034-0c52-5594-a727-563973c4d650)
Acknowledgments (#u73e5a4b9-d06f-5649-9b7e-82674c79bcb7)
Chapter One (#uac42b3df-9514-55fa-a20b-fb7f0e9bebb8)
Chapter Two (#ua5802042-2114-5b4b-a4d1-3c4e19affabe)
Chapter Three (#ud7b26bbc-ed72-5769-bb7b-45e15ca8a626)
Chapter Four (#uf910b7e0-5f85-5c8f-90df-08cbd85764ea)
Chapter Five (#ubc98425f-9641-5822-bcfa-0fc73f27115e)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_ac198ccd-98fd-55ad-8fa2-d5cbe13612dd)
His dream had come true.
As a kid growing up in Ouray, Colorado, Kaleb Palmer dreamed of owning a Jeep tour company. Of sharing the history and beauty of the San Juan Mountains with others. That dream had kept him going during the darkest time of his life and, finally, it had become a reality.
The online reviews said Mountain View Tours had terrible service.
The whispered words of a passerby echoed through his mind as he leaned the freshly painted wooden sign that read Under New Ownership beside the entrance. If they only knew. He’d had plenty of experience overcoming adversity.
Returning to the open bay of the garage, Kaleb tugged a shop rag from the back pocket of his jeans and rubbed the smudges of red paint from his fingers.
Excitement coursed through his veins, as it had so many times since purchasing Mountain View Tours a few months ago. It would take time to rebuild the company’s tarnished reputation. And with the Jeeping season lasting less than five months, time wasn’t exactly on Kaleb’s side. There were loans to be paid, and he would not let his investors down. How could he when they’d given him the courage and financial backing to follow his dream?
The late afternoon sun had him rolling up the sleeves of his tan work shirt as he looked out over Main Street, surveying Ouray’s colorful Victorian buildings. Now that May had arrived, businesses that had closed for the winter were primping for the upcoming high season. All over town, folks were painting, planting flowers and sprucing up in preparation for the thousands of people who would flock to the Switzerland of America over the next few months.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a black motorcycle easing alongside the curb in front of his business. A potential customer, perhaps. Either way, his pulse kicked up a notch. This wasn’t just any motorcycle. It was a sleek BMW K 100 LT, a touring motorcycle that put all other motorcycles to shame in his book.
As a teenager, he yearned for the day he’d own one and had even contemplated purchasing that very model once he left the army. How he’d longed to conquer the Million Dollar Highway that wound its way through the mountains south of town, leaning the machine into every hairpin curve.
Of course, that was back when he had two legs.
Absently rubbing his left thigh, where his stump and prosthetic met, he watched the leather-clad, undeniably female figure dismount the bike that was bigger than her. Was she traveling alone or waiting for someone to join her?
The woman removed her helmet then, allowing her dark hair to tumble halfway down her back.
Kaleb’s breath left him. He swallowed hard, the reaction taking him by surprise. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had that kind of effect on him. Especially one he’d never met.
She looked up and down the street, allowing him a glimpse of her face. Much younger than he would have expected. And while he couldn’t put his finger on it, there was something about her that intrigued him. The determined square of her shoulders, the confidence in her stance.
Again wiping his hands, he pretended not to notice as she left her helmet on the bike and started in the direction of Mountain View Tours’ front office. Maybe this was the day he’d book his first tour.
Leaving his fanciful thoughts in the shop along with his rag, he slid past one of his new tour trucks—bright blue and specially outfitted with open-air seating for nine—opened the office door and went inside.
“Afternoon.” He moved behind the crude particleboard reception counter. “Welcome to Mountain View Tours.”
“Hi.” The woman unzipped her black leather jacket, her smile wide as she took in the front office. “I’m looking for Kaleb Palmer.”
A dozen scenarios sprang to his mind as to why a beautiful motorcycle-driving woman would be looking for him. A relative of one of the men who’d been with him that fateful day in the Afghan desert, perhaps?
“I’m Kaleb. What can I do for you?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it without saying a word, her expression seemingly perplexed. Her hazel eyes fell to the concrete floor, before bouncing back to his. “Sorry. I guess I expected someone older.” Pink tinged her cheeks as she held out her hand. “I’m Grace McAllen.”
Her firm grip wasn’t the only thing that surprised him. Granted, he’d shared only one phone call and a couple of emails with Grace, but with her husky voice, military background and no-nonsense approach to business, he never imagined his new office manager would be so...pretty.
Scratching his head, he glanced at the calendar on the wall. “I must be mixed up on my days. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
“No. You’re correct.” She took a step back. “I just pulled into town and thought I’d drop by before checking in at the campground.”
“You’re staying at the campground?” Not something he would have expected from a single woman.
“Why not? I have a camper.”
He peered out the window, noting the low-profile trailer hitched to the back of her motorcycle.
“Don’t let appearances fool you.” She’d obviously caught his stare. “It’s a pop-up. Much bigger than it looks.”
That was good, because it still looked pretty small to him. However, he was six-three and liked his space.
“Cool.” He turned his attention back to Grace. “So would you like to start working tomorrow, then? Or would you prefer a day to familiarize yourself with the town?”
“Tomorrow is fine.”
“Good.” He rounded the counter to join her in the open space that was flanked by a vintage Coke machine and a particleboard brochure rack that matched the desk. “The faster we can get you up to speed, the better I’ll feel. And I figure the best way to start is with a couple of informal tours. I’ll give you a firsthand look at what we do and, in turn, better equip you to assist customers.”
“Sounds reasonable.” She shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and looked him in the eye. “I haven’t been to Ouray before, but if the drive up here is any indication, I can hardly wait.”
“I like your enthusiasm.” Kaleb had prayed long and hard that God would lead him to the right employees. Those who would share his love for this area and pass that zeal on to customers. “Most of the passes are still closed, but we can make a run up to Yankee Boy Basin. Which also happens to be one of the area’s most popular destinations.”
“What time should I be here?”
