Page 50 of Bravo

Pain?

Memories?

A bad relationship?

“Glad I could be of service.” I clear my throat, trying to decide how to start more than a surface-level conversation. I really want to get to know her, but so far, she’s thrown up roadblocks every chance I get. “So what brought you to Texas?”

She looks over at me curiously. “What makes you think I wasn’t born here?”

“Your accent,” I reply. “Certain words you say have a different inflection.”

“Then exactly where do you think I’m from, cowboy?”

I grin at her before returning my gaze to the road. “I’d say the West Coast. Maybe California? Oregon?”

“You’re good, Bradyn, I’ll give you that.” She smiles. “I was born in Oregon, though I spent a good portion of my life in California.”

“Then I have to ask again; what brought you to Texas?”

“A friend of mine told me about this town. He said he’d stop here whenever he was driving into Dallas. I was looking for a change in scenery, so I came here.”

“And loved it so much you decided to stay?”

“For now,” she replies with a smile then shifts her attention back out the window.

Those two words hang in the air between us. Truth be told, most of our help doesn’t move on unless they’re relocating for family, looking to settle down, or they retire. So even though the idea that she’s just here as a temporary stay had absolutely crossed my mind, I’d just dismissed it. Now it seems my fears are confirmed.

“You move around a lot?”

“I like to travel.”

It’s a lie. I can tell in her tone that she’s not being honest, but I drop it because it’s her business, not mine. I’m desperate to know, though. Desperate to get to know the woman beneath the walls she so carefully hides behind.

CHAPTER 17

KENNEDY

This was a mistake.

We’re not even thirty minutes into the drive, and I’ve already given him more information than anyone else I’ve crossed paths with since the marshals were killed. I take a deep breath.Get it together, Kennedy. This man could be your enemy if he ever finds out the truth.

“How about you?” If I redirect the conversation, maybe we can move past the awkward silence at my clipped answer.

“What about me?” he asks.

“You were obviously born and raised here in Texas, but you left to join the Army. What made you return?”

“This is home,” he replies. “I love this town and the ranch. Coming home was always part of the plan.”

“What about the traveling you do now? I don’t know much about it except that you were off saving the world. Do you still do contractor work for the government?”

Something in his gaze darkens. “Something like that,” he replies.

More awkward silence.

Both of us have walls, and neither of us seems willing to let the other see what’s behind them. “Did you go to college after the service?”

“No. Never felt the desire to spend time behind a desk.”

---