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The Soldier's Promise
Patricia Potter
Here today, gone tomorrow? When former army ranger Josh Manning comes to close-knit Covenant Falls, he knows he won't be staying long. As soon as he's renovated the cabin he's inherited from a late fellow soldier, he and his ex-military dog, Amos, are getting out fast. That is, until Mayor Eve Douglas drops by.Eve, a young widow, has a precocious son and a band of misfit pets. Definitely not his type. Besides, she deserves much more than he can give. Unless, against all his instincts, he's ready to make one more promise.
Here today, gone tomorrow?
When former army ranger Josh Manning comes to close-knit Covenant Falls, he knows he won’t be staying long. As soon as he’s renovated the cabin he’s inherited from a late fellow soldier, he and his ex-military dog, Amos, are getting out fast. That is, until Mayor Eve Douglas drops by.
Eve, a young widow, has a precocious son and a band of misfit pets. Definitely not his type. Besides, she deserves much more than he can give. Unless, against all his instincts, he’s ready to make one more promise.
“I don’t stay in places long.”
“Maybe it’s time you did.”
Josh touched Eve’s face again, this time letting his fingers linger and trace the line of her jaw. His body ached with longing. He wanted to dig deep under that calm serenity and ignite the fire he felt in her. But he couldn’t. “I’m a wanderer and you’re a nester, and I would bet everything I have that you’ve never had a one-night stand, or one-week stand, and that’s all I know. All I want. No complications.”
He was lying. He did want more, he just hadn’t known it until now.
But it wouldn’t work. He would leave one day, and it could break two hearts. Maybe three.
He stepped back.
She gave him a long, steady look, then nodded. She started to turn, then stopped. “About Nick?”
“You can bring him over tomorrow afternoon.” Bad decision, but the boy would be here with his mother. No temptation then. At least that was what he told himself.
“Thank you,” she said softly, and as he closed the door he wondered exactly what she was thanking him for.
Dear Reader,
Most of my story ideas come from today’s newspaper headlines. Life often holds more wonders than a writer’s imagination.
All my writer’s bells rang when I read a New York Times story about military dogs being retired because of post-traumatic stress disorder. Many are adopted by their handlers or the general public.
There were also news stories about veterans returning with PTSD and successful programs matching these vets and dogs rescued from the street. The matches often worked miracles for both.
My writer’s “what if” mechanism shifted into high gear, and Joshua Manning immediately strode into my mind. He was a throwaway kid who’d raised himself and saw the military as the family he never had. But when a wound meant leaving the service, he had no idea of what to do or where to go. None except saving the military dog handled by a friend who’d died saving Josh’s life.
And where better to heal than Covenant Falls, a fictional small town with a big heart and a lady mayor with an even bigger one.
Josh and his Amos, and Mayor Eve Douglas, her young son and their motley crew of rescues climbed into my heart and wrote their own story. I hope they will touch you as they did me.
Patricia Potter
The Soldier’s Promise
Patricia Potter
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Patricia Potter is a bestselling and award-winning author of more than sixty books. Her Western romances have received numerous awards, including an RT Book Reviews Storyteller of the Year Award, a Career Achievement Award for Western Historical Romance and a Best Hero of the Year Award. She is a seven-time RITA® Award finalist for RWA and a three-time Maggie winner. She is a past president of the Romance Writers of America.
Besides writing, Patricia has a passion for accumulating dogs, specifically rescue ones. She’s learned that you don’t choose dogs, they somehow find you. She currently has two rescue Australian Shepherd sisters with two distinctly different personalities, but both overflowing with love.
In addition to dogs and books, she also loves travel and recently visited the magical, history-seeped Adriatic Coast, Spain and France.
To our returning veterans and the dogs that protect them.
Contents
Chapter One (#u35a84cf1-2f4d-5869-b648-dd12b99cd7e3)
Chapter Two (#udec7ccd1-c8d6-5e10-8db9-af42734c7009)
Chapter Three (#u1b28df13-59e2-5753-b9ec-d80ace8ce7bd)
Chapter Four (#u1ad3102d-4ded-5b13-918f-c8dcc64492eb)
Chapter Five (#u215a4438-1a5d-5c48-aa3c-6a8c099de387)
Chapter Six (#u4c37e0a6-f67a-583a-b23c-3821839006ad)
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)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
TRACER BULLETS RIPPED through the night like shooting stars.
He hit the sand along with other members of his team. A rocket-propelled grenade exploded a few feet away, sending shrapnel slicing and burning his skin. Then the enemy poured out from rocks like locusts.
Adrenaline surged through him, smothering the pain. He slid behind a rock, called in copter support and aimed his M16 at the figures multiplying in front of him.
He cursed. Intel had said there was only a small group of Taliban here. One of their high-level couriers was supposedly passing this way.
He fired steadily but the enemy kept coming as his own men fell around him. The smell of gunpowder and the deafening sound of explosions filled the cold night air.
He glanced around. Four of his ten men were down. To his right he heard a steady return of fire. Dave? What about the other four?
Eric was down. Trying to crawl for cover. Gotta go after him, get him behind rocks.
Move. He sprinted toward his wounded teammate. His leg exploded in agony and he went down as more bullets ricocheted off rocks around him. Everything was burning. He reached for the M16 he’d dropped.... Too far...
Someone lifted him. Dave. “No,” he screamed. “Leave me!” Then he fell again, Dave falling over him, shielding him. He heard the sound of helicopters as everything went black....
Josh Manning jerked awake, the battle still alive in his head.
He reached for his gun. It wasn’t there.
Then the adrenaline ebbed as his surroundings came into focus. Not a battlefield. A room. Familiar now after a few days. The rapid beating of his heart eased. He sat. Breathe. Slowly. In and out. His face and body were wet with sweat. So were the sheets.
Another damned nightmare.
Beside him, Amos whined and tried to inch under the narrow bed.
Knocking. That was what had woken him.
What time is it? He glanced at his watch. 1000 hours. Later than he thought, but he hadn’t fallen asleep until dawn. He shook his head, trying to erase the remnants of the nightmare that so often cursed his few hours of sleep. Another knock at the door. Insistent. Damn it.
Whoever it was apparently wasn’t going away. He looked to the floor. What he could see of Amos’s hindquarters was quivering.
Josh knew he was in no condition to answer the door. He was still wet from the nightmares, and he hadn’t shaved in several days. He was wearing only skivvies in the warmth of summer. But more knocking would only exacerbate Amos’s terror. He pulled on a pair of jeans, limped painfully to the front door and threw it open so hard it bounced against the interior wall.
He did not feel welcoming. He’d been beset with unwanted visitors since he’d reached the cabin a week earlier, and each one seemed to make Amos more fearful. Didn’t make him happy, either.
A middle-aged lady stood at the door with an aluminum tin held out to him and a determined smile on her face. All he could think of was Amos’s frantic retreat and the bone-deep pain in his left leg when he’d first put weight on it.
What in the hell did it take to be left alone?
He scowled at her.
Her mouth formed a perfect O. Then she thrust the tin in his hands and practically ran from the porch. She didn’t look back as she scurried down the broken pavement that served as a driveway.
He must look a hell of a lot worse than even he thought. He went back inside, set the damned tin on a counter and grabbed a beer from the ice chest. He slugged it down and tossed the bottle in the garbage can. He reached for another, then stopped himself. Drinking in the morning! Damned bad habit to form. He’d never been a big drinker. No one in his unit had been.
But then he wasn’t with the Rangers any longer. He wasn’t with anything.
He swore in the silence of the room. He’d behaved badly. He must look terrifying with his scruffy face, uncombed hair and large size. A bare chest with scars probably hadn’t helped.
All he wanted was to be left alone. He and Amos.
Amos. He went into the bedroom and called his name softly.
No audible response. No wag of a tail. Not even a whine. Just heavy panting.
He gingerly lowered himself to the floor and started talking to Amos. “It’s okay. Nothing there to hurt us. Just civilians. No enemy. No explosives.”
He stopped, his breath caught by grief that was still raw. He continued in a low, rough voice. “I know you miss Dave. I do, too. But he wanted you safe. That’s why he asked me to take you.” He touched Amos’s butt, the only part that wasn’t under the bed. The dog gradually relaxed and finally eased from under the bed.
“Breakfast,” Josh announced.
Amos was not impressed. He put his head between his paws.
Josh braced himself on the side of the bed to get up. He’d shed a cast six weeks after a third operation and threw away the cane two weeks after that. His left leg resembled Humpty Dumpty’s after the fall, a result of the explosion that killed Dave. He could live with the injury, but he ached every time he looked at Amos. Amos had been his best friend’s canine partner, uncanny in finding explosives, unflagging on missions and ecstatic to play with his reward ball. He was a shadow of himself now.
Maybe it was a mistake coming here. Hell, he didn’t even understand why Dave had left it to him, especially since he’d never mentioned it in the years they’d been friends. Dave had talked about Colorado and how they might start a camping and fishing business since their skills outside the army weren’t much in demand. But a cabin? No. He’d racked his brain since an attorney contacted him in the hospital and said he was the sole beneficiary of Dave’s estate.
From what the attorney had said, Josh had thought the cabin was somewhere deep in the woods, somewhere he and Amos could heal quietly and on their own.
He hadn’t expected a parade of people invading his life and scaring the hell out of Amos. Perhaps a big No Trespassing sign would help.
He went to the door and looked at the deep royal blue of the lake that was several hundred feet from the cabin. It was the reason he’d decided to stay. At least for a while. That, and the mountain behind the cabin.
The small town of Covenant Falls snuggled on the side of a pristine blue lake and against forested mountains. The cabin was the last structure on a road that ran alongside the lake and dead-ended at the mountain. Shielded by towering pines and underbrush, the cabin was in dire need of repairs. It was apparent no one had used it in years, except maybe partying kids.
The attorney had told him a trust had paid the taxes and a certain amount of upkeep.
