Page 4 of Cruel Expectations

He had made no such promise, and he couldn’t believe that he was entertaining the thought of trading his battle gear for a cowboy hat.

“I think it’s time for me to move on with my life.” His voice sounded like he drank an entire bottle of whiskey—well, damn close. Regardless of how much alcohol filled his veins, he knew what he was committing to.

“You’ve been recovering. In a hospital.” Colton’s excuse for him was true, but it still didn’t shed light on the reality of the situation.

Survivor’s guilt had been swallowing him for months. “I missed the funeral.”

“We all did. There was no chance of getting there, man. Look. I know that abyss you’re sitting in right now. A month ago, I was in the same goddamn spot.”

“And you’re not now?” How could things have changed so much for his friend?

Hunter scrubbed a knuckle over his jaw, over the thick, untamed beard he’d let go since his days as a SEAL.

“Things have changed for me, Hart. They’re looking up. But there’s trouble on the ranch with security. I could use you on watch.”

Orders he could take. Military tactics he could handle.

“We’re shorthanded on the ranch too, so be prepared for manual labor. But man…there’s something therapeutic about this place.”

Having grown up in inner city New Jersey, Hunter couldn’t even picture what the ranch might look like. He’d seen photos of Montana. If he took this leap, he’d be seeing the land firsthand.

“I’m grateful, Nox. And I look forward to it.”

“When can you fly?”

He glanced at the amber liquid in his glass. He needed out of this slump—now.

“The sooner the better.”

“Good—I’ll make the arrangements and be in touch.”

When he ended the call, he sat there for a long time, not drinking, not drowning in the dark memories of that horrible day when he damn near lost his leg and his friends suffered a worse fate.

He envisioned sprawling green fields dotted with cattle and the sun’s golden light washing over the land.

He didn’t hold any hope at all for his future, but a change of scenery would be good.

A ranch, even with security issues, was a far departure from battle. He might be able to rest.

To find some level ground again.

Chapter Two

Ivy’s bag thumped against her hip as she walked down the narrow airplane aisle to her seat. When she located her seat number, she plopped down into it with a sigh that only held a whisper of relief.

She’d made it. Barely.

But she was on her way home.

Brushing her thick blonde hair over her shoulder, she stowed her bag under the seat in front of her and leaned back again. Typically, she liked having a window seat, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. She was lucky to get a ticket at all.

After pawning a vintage Gucci bag she’d picked up in Rome—and selling it for much less than it was worth—she was able to grab the pricey ticket to the States. Trouble was, the only flight she could afford was out of Germany, which meant Ivy had to travel by train to reach the airport. Delays had her skin crawling with anxiety that she wouldn’t make the flight—and the ticket was nonrefundable.

She sure would miss that Gucci bag too. They just didn’t make leather purses like that anymore.

She might be out a wardrobe accessory, but at least she wasn’t out another family member. Her daddy was alive. When she texted Meadow with the time she’d arrive in Montana, her sister assured her that her father’s condition was still rocky but not worse.

Of course, that was hours ago. Anything could happen in a blink of an eye. She of all people knew that.

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