Page 37 of Her Faithful Protector

The cab is quiet for a while. Huxley locks his gaze on the road, wise enough to not sneak in another provocation. But silence can be just as trying when you’re looking to bond with your partner in the trenches.

I start, “So, what’s your story?” I’m not just talking about the scar that runs a harsh line down his face, although I’m curious if he’s willing to share.

“Well, I joined the Navy when I was nineteen. Did it for college money,” he answers, his tone unapologetic.

“It may not scream patriotism, but that’s perfectly alright.”

He settles back, a smirk playing on his lips. “And to get a chick.”

I can’t help but let out a short, sharp laugh. “You couldn’t get laid?”

The man is like a baby rhino—solid but not overdone. He’s got a chiseled face, but his eyes have this innocent vibe that’ll surely make the ladies swoon.

He gives me a side glance, quizzical. “What about it?”

From that angle, he resembles friendly danger, like aclassic World War II aviator poster boy. How could he ever struggle to woo a girl?

“If you want a chick, you go to a Pilates class,” I advise.

He lets out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. “Ranch life is a solitary gig.”

“A rancher, huh?”

“Born and raised. Had to step up when my dad fell ill. Mom was up to her elbows with the ranch and my kid brother.”

“And your dad, is he doing better now?” There’s a careful tilt to my question, respectful.

A shadow crosses his face. “He left us when I was twelve.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

The car rolls on, and for a moment, he’s lost in thought. “The ranch keeps me grounded. It’s my piece of heaven, near Seeley Lake. It’s me, through and through, and it’s not going anywhere.”

We round a bend and we catch our first glimpse of the Missouri River.

“So you kept the land in the family?” I ask.

He nods, pride lighting up his features. “Yep. The kid’s running it now. Nineteen and bossing like a seasoned ranch hand. I taught him all he knows.”

“You taught him?” I press, genuinely impressed.

He looks straight ahead, conviction in his voice. “Had to be the man of the house. Teach him how to stand tall.”

Turns out, Sam knew what he was doing when he partnered me with Huxley today. He might’ve seemed all bravado and brawn at first, but the Comet’s got layers—made of tough stuff. I think about my own path, how I had to relearn everything after being taken by Scalpel. But even if the kidnapping had never happened, I doubt I could’ve shouldered the world like Astro Boy did, all before he was old enough to drive.

“So, did the Navy bring you closer to finding your one and only?” I venture, trying to keep the talk light, not probing too deep too fast.

“Girls, yes. Soulmate? That’s another story. I signed up for the bonus bucks, not for valor or heroics. But, you know how it is, you get out there, into the thick of it…” His voice tapers off, a hint of harshness seeping in.

The man beside me shifts, a small motion, but one laden with unspoken memories. “Living on a razor’s edge, it gets into your blood,” he says. “Made it through BUD/S, wore my Trident, and stayed in the game until my last op.”

He draws a breath, and I can feel the weight of whatever is on his mind.

“Listen, if this is going to stir up the ghosts, we can cut it right there,” I say, keeping my voice steady. Everyone has got their demons, be it from the battlefield, the operating table, or just life’s cruel twists. “I want you to focus on Quinton, do you hear?”

“You’re the one who poked the bear,” the baby rhino reminds me, not unkindly, just stating facts.

I crack a half-smile. “I was just trying to make conversation.”

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