Page 11 of A Heart in Bloom

As they finished their meal and paid—Allen refusing to let her pay for his dinner— Cammie reflected on how easy it had been to open up to him. He felt like a friend—something she hadn’t had in a very long time.

But as they lingered for a moment at the table, his warm gaze caught hers, and a flicker of something deeper sparked beneath the surface. It was unsettling. And thrilling.

She pushed the thought aside as they rose to leave, her heart beating just a little too fast.

Chapter Ten

The temperature had dropped further by the time they left the café, and everything was coated in a glimmering sheet of ice and snow. Cammie shivered as a cold wind swept down the street, cutting through her coat. Without hesitation, Allen tucked her hand through his arm, steadying her on the slick pavement.

The gesture was simple, almost instinctive, but there was something subtly protective about it that sent a warmth through her she didn’t want to examine.

“Tell me something about yourself that very few people know,” Allen prompted, his voice cutting through the quiet as they made their way carefully up Main Street toward her shop.

She blinked, startled by the directness of his question. “Like a secret?” she asked, her tone lightly teasing to mask her surprise. “I don’t think our friendship has reached that level yet.”

He chuckled, his breath visible in the arctic air. “Not a secret, but a little-known fact. Something unique to you.”

“Um, like what?” Cammie was at a loss for what to share. “You go first.”

“Okay.” Allen paused for a moment, his expression shifting slightly as he admitted, “I’m hearing impaired. That’s why I always walk on your right side and sit across from you at the table.”

Cammie froze mid-step, her boots crunching against the icy ground as she turned to face him. “What? Seriously? You can’t hear? How? Why?”

Allen’s expression flickered at her rapid-fire questions, and Cammie instantly realized how her words might have come across. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, her cheeks heating despite the cold. “That didn’t come out right. I’m just… surprised. You seem so—” She stopped herself, biting her lip as she realized she might be making it worse.

“Normal?” Another chuckle escaped him, rich with genuine mirth. The sound eased Cammie’s worry that she’d offended him. He looped her arm through his again as they continued their moonlit stroll. “Thanks. I’ve worked hard over the years to adapt.”

A large cloud of breath escaped him as he exhaled, his tone growing reflective. “As for the how... my Ranger unit went on a mission that left us all... changed. I got off easy, losing just my hearing. Eric had to endure multiple surgeries and months of therapy to regain his strength. In the end, he decided totrade life as a training officer on some base for the quiet of his mountain. His best friend, Tom—you haven’t met him yet—lives up there too. He nearly didn’t make it. If it hadn’t been for Eric, he wouldn’t have. The surgeons put him back together, but it’s a constant struggle to keep his mobility.”

He paused briefly, his breath frosting in the cold night air before continuing. “As for me, I was thrown by the blast. My eardrums ruptured. Sometimes they heal, sometimes they don’t. Mine didn’t. I’m completely deaf on my left side, but I’ve got partial hearing on my right. As long as you’re on this side, I’m good.”

Cammie absorbed his words, her initial awkwardness giving way to a deep respect. “Is that why you left the Army?” she asked, her voice tentative but steady.

“Yeah. I stayed in longer than the rest and moved into a logistics role, but after a few years of pushing papers, I started to understand how Eric felt. If I couldn’t be in the action—kicking down doors—then the job wasn’t for me anymore.” He hesitated, his voice quieter. “I wish I’d come out here sooner. My team knew what I was going through after the incident. They would have helped me like they helped each other. But I pressed on, pretending I was fine. It was... a dark time for a while.”

Cammie’s steps slowed as she absorbed his words, her heart twisting at the vulnerability behind them. Allen’s easy charm always seemed so effortless, but there were shadows in his past she hadn’t expected.

“You said we were sharing little-known facts,” she said gently, her brow furrowing. “Are you telling me folks around here don’t know about your hearing loss? Isn’t that dangerous, given your line of work?” The concern in her voice came unbidden, but she couldn’t hold it back.

“The guys know, of course. Zach wasn’t there that day, but the others were. That’s why I’m a foreman and not actively workingon a crew. If I do need to strap on a tool belt—especially on a more dangerous work site—I wear my hearing aids. But usually, I’m running crews, supervising, or handling the paperwork side of things. Safety for myself or others isn’t an issue.”

At the mention of hearing aids, Cammie glanced at his ears, her brow furrowing. “Why don’t you wear them all the time?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

Allen gave a small, self-deprecating smile. “Pride, mostly. But they also drive me crazy. When I go to Boston, I have to wear them. They help isolate the sounds I need to hear when everything kind of blends together, but they also amplify everything else. It’s like my brain gets overloaded.” He hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment before continuing. “I’ve tried different types—they just don’t work for me. Hickory Falls is quiet. I feel like I can actually hear and participate in life the way I used to, so I don’t need them. And... when I don’t wear them, I don’t feel... less.”

Cammie stopped abruptly and turned to face him, her eyes steady on his. “Allen, I barely know you, but I can tell you this: you are not ‘less’ of anything because of your hearing impairment. You’re one of the kindest, most generous men I’ve met—second only to my father. What happened to you and your team is beyond terrible, and it breaks my heart that people like you have to sacrifice so much to protect others. But you should be proud.”

She hesitated, unsure if she was overstepping, then pressed on. “Maybe I’m being naïve—or even out of line—but there are people walking around with hearing loss because of foolish choices, like blasting their music too loud. You lost yours serving your country, doing something bigger than yourself. If wearing hearing aids helps you process the world, don’t leave them at home because they make you self-conscious. Paint them red, white, and blue, or cover them with your Ranger insignia. Wearthem like those old veterans with their VFW or POW hats—they’re not something to hide.”

Her words rushed out, her chest tightening as she realized how much she’d said. Heat crept up her neck. Who was she to lecture a veteran, someone who had lived through horrors she couldn’t begin to fathom? “I’m sorry,” she added softly, her voice faltering. “I just… I meant every word, but I probably overstepped.”

For a moment, Allen said nothing, his gaze searching hers. Then he stepped forward and wrapped her in a firm, steady embrace, his warmth chasing away the cold night air. “Thank you,” he murmured against her hair, his voice rough with emotion. “That means more than you know. I’ve never told anyone outside my team or family before.”

She held him tight, the strange urge to squeeze any lingering doubts right out of him. “I’m sorry for how I reacted at first,” she said softly. “But I meant every word. Don’t ever feel ashamed or embarrassed about any of it. You’re a hero, Allen—not just because of your service or what you’ve endured. Look at all you’ve done for me, a complete stranger. Nothing could ever diminish your worth as a man or as a friend.”

Allen stepped back slightly, his hands lingering on her shoulders, and met her gaze. A teasing smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Did you just call me manly, Cammie?”

Scoffing and rolling her eyes, she gave his arm a playful shove. “Don’t let it go to your head,” she muttered, turning to walk on as her arm instinctively looped through his again.

---