Page 9 of Take Me Away, Cowboy

One of his sergeants told him if the Marine Corps wanted him to have a spouse, they would have issued him with one. He didn’t disagree. His buddies had come home from a seven-month deployment to a wife three months pregnant. Others were served divorce papers by wives who’d come to the homecoming with a boyfriend in tow.

Maybe at one point he’d have bought into the fairy tale. But the Corps had made him a new—not necessarily better—person. He hoped leaving it would change him as well, especially when it came to his nightmares.

He was so close to moving past the trauma of the Marines—only the nights haunted him still, woke him in sweats as he recalled the horrors his brain pushed back to his subconscious during the daylight hours. As soon as he fell asleep, he ran the risk of being assaulted by his demons.

Something unexpected had occurred that morning, though. The shadows slunk back to the dark recesses of his mind, lying in wait, but otherwise unthreatening. Only the shadow of the weight from his rifle and a killer scar across his right shoulder reminded him of his past life. Even that weight lightened each day.

That morning he hadn’t reached for his weapon when he’d swung his legs out of bed for his daily pre-dawn run in the hills behind his farmland. It was progress, no matter how small.

Just not good “tea talk” with gossiping old ladies. He needed some air. And better food.

His stomach grumbled something fierce, and the overwhelming desire for a hamburger, a juicy quarter pounder dripping with oil, ketchup, and mayo, hit him. Maybe some bacon, too. His mouth watered, joining the mutiny of his body against his brain.

“Are you having fun?” the host, Julia asked. He hadn’t seen her approach which shocked him considering the waft of perfume that overwhelmed his nostrils now that she was close. Expensive. Classy.

The fact that she’d gotten by his normal defenses both worried and excited him. It meant he’d relaxed his vigilant scoping of the terrain, keeping his back to any walls, his eyes and ears opened to any lurking danger.Progress.

“It’s a nice party, ma’am. Thank you for the invite.”

“Did you get any food? I could bring you some deviled eggs if you’re hungry.”

Deviled eggs. So, the abominable food had a name to match. She hovered over him a little too close for comfort, perched on the arm of the couch. He had no escape route carved out with the older redhead beside him, her thigh against his. He was trapped.

“Thank you, I’m all set,” he said, patting his stomach. It had better not betray him by grumbling again. He took a pull from his now-warm beer, trying not to think about a slab of red meat sandwiched between two buttered buns.

“So, where did you say you came from?” Julia asked him, her hand on his bicep. Her eyes narrowed. The smirk on her lips spelled trouble.

“I didn’t,” he replied. This woman was probably hell on wheels if she didn’t get what she wanted, so he threw her a bone.

“I did my latest stint in Hawaii with the Third Marine Division. Before that, all over. Pendleton, Lejeune, Abu Dhabi. It’s been quite a ride, ma’am.”

“Call me Julia,” she said. “Do you ever miss any of it?”

“Not sure what you mean, ma’am,” he said.

“The adrenaline, the adventure of combat.” She had a flush to her cheeks as she said this. He couldn’t give her the satisfaction when she was clearly baiting him.

“Combat is many things, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call it an adventure, ma’am. A lot of good men and women lost their lives so you could go adventuring, and I assure you it wasn’t a pleasant death.”

Her cheeks went pale, and her eyes got big.

The weight of a black, metal bracelet he wore on his right wrist, three names of his fallen brothers etched in silver, felt heavy. It told the story of war not shown on TV. The true cost he’d paid. He rubbed it, considering it a talisman of sorts.

“I see. I’ll be sure the women from the salon bring you some more eggs. Enjoy the party.” He chuckled. Julia was a firecracker, the kind that got you in trouble if you let your hands get too close.

Shaking his head, he realized he somehow allowed himself to get cornered by a new pair of older women, this time asking about his social life.Fitting.

“Are you seeing anyone special?” one of them asked, her hand on his flexed forearm. His gaze settled on Paige walking through the crowd, her legs crossed at the ankles when she stopped to talk to her brother, showing off her long, taut thigh muscles.

He raked his hands through his hair before hiding it back under his backwards cap, feeling as cornered as he’d been in the Afghan base when the RPG had rocketed over the wall.

“I’m not. I just moved to town and want to get settled before I think about adding a distraction that might derail my home improvements.” It was the truth, but knowing grins crept up on the lips of the two women. He was pretty sure all they’d heard him say is “I’m single.”

When wallet-sized photos of eligible granddaughters and nieces materialized in front of him, he knew he’d screwed up. He smiled and excused himself to grab another drink.

Jesus. The whole town was relentless.

Paige paced the small back porch end-to-end, and he sighed. She’d be hands off, now. He definitely hadn’t figured on contending with meddling like this when he’d decided on country living. The small town gossip was like living on base again, his arrival a curiosity that could only be sated by machine-gun-firing questions his way that he could dodge or let hit him with all the force of an actual .45. It was lose-lose.

---