Page 38 of The Wrangler Takes a Wife

Chase heard Ryan loud and clear. His friend knew in the past Chase's ability to compartmentalize was a huge fault he had. He’d realised that at Silver Creek. When he returned from his last deployment, Chase didn’t examine the things he had to do on the mission. He chalked it up to following instructions and doing his job by keeping the civilians and his team safe. Chase tucked away some of the more unpleasant activities he did on missions to accomplish the goal. The ends justified the means.

It took a year before it all came crashing down around him. He was out for a run, and he saw some preteens playing soccer in a field. The smell of gunfire and a metallic tang assaulted his nostrils. It all came rushing back.

The hardest part of what he’d done on his last mission with snuffing out the lives of child soldiers. He didn’t allow himself to hesitate despite his conviction that they didn’t fully understand what they were doing or even wanted to be there. He still had to pull the trigger on little boys, who looked like they were playing dress up in oversized uniforms holding automatic guns too large for their hands. It was kill or be killed. Or worse, allow them to take lives.

Guilt. Crippling guilt drove him to his knees as he watched the boys in the field. Suddenly, his justifications meant nothing. Chase had gone home and couldn’t bring himself to face the horror of taking so many young lives. He couldn’t sleep or eat. If Ryan hadn’t come and found him, Chase might have given into the temptation of playing Russian roulette with his revolver.

Chase considered all of it before he answered from a place of honesty. “If the choice is her, or anything else. It’s an easy call.” As Chase said those words aloud, he realised he meant it.Fuck! When had he gone and fallen in love with Amara?The thought should have terrified him, but instead he smiled in acceptance.

“You know Bolton doesn’t do refunds.” Ryan was so infuriating with his level of surety.

“I know. It’ll be an investment. He knows where to send my cheques.”

As Chase washed up, he thought about what he’d said to Ryan. It wasn’t lost on him that he had used the word ‘choice’. Amara’s parents had a lot to do with it. He smiled at the memory of first meeting her parents right before the ceremony. Of course, he had known who they were immediately. Roddick was a carbon copy of Amara’s father. The only difference was a few wrinkles and a head full of grey hair. Her mother looked like an older sister, but with a lighter complexion.

The couple came to see what kind of man their daughter married. Amara’s mother did most of the talking. Her father had barely spoken. So, Chase recalled every word the man uttered. The thing which stuck out the most was.“Marriage is a choice you make every day.”

At the time, Chase had just smiled and nodded, but now he understood what Mr. Welch meant.

By the time he pushed open Amara’s partially open office door at the diner, Chase was in a fantastic mood. He was going to profess his love for his wife. Maybe she wasn’t there yet, but she was on her way. Over the last several months, their lives had fit together like a seamless puzzle.

“Hey, Sweet—” his greeting died on lips at the sight before him. A man he’d never seen had Amara trapped in his arms, and she was fighting to push him away.

“Let go!” she cried. The man tightened his grip, his expression shifting from surprise to determination. “Come on Amara, I’ve missed you.”

“Get your fucking hands off her!” Chase hissed as he marched over to them. His heart pounded with adrenaline, fueled by a protective rage he could barely control. On autopilot, he grabbed a hold of the man’s neck and skillfully executed a ranger’s hold. Every instinct screamed at him to ensure her safety, and he felt a fierce determination which left no room for doubt or hesitation. Anger pulsed through his veins, sharpening his focus and lending strength to his grip. The man crumbled to the floor, with Chase kneeling over him, his hand still around his throat.

“Chase,” Amara cried. “Let go.”

“Who is he?”

“Please, let go before you…”

He lifted his hands in the air. “He’s fine. Just passed out.” He nudged him with his boot. Turning to her, he held her arms. “Are you okay?”

“Fletcher is one of my suppliers.”

There was something about the way she wouldn’t meet his eyes that raised his hackles. “And?”

“Don’t take that tone with me. Fletcher and I?—”

“Stop saying his name.” Hearing the man’s name leave her lips was irritating. Irrational? Yes, but also very irritating.

“We had a no strings attached… um, situation.”

“Meaning?”

“We used to hook-up.” Amara rolled her eyes at him. Then pulled away from Chase.

“Is Fle?—”

Chase arched his eyebrow, cutting her off.

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah. He’ll come to, soon.” Chased looked over at the man who just had his hands on his wife. The Fletcher guy was traditionally good looking. He was a tall, light-skinned black man with an athletic build. His hair was short with a fashionable fade. A crisp dress shirt and designer dockers showed he took pride in his attire. Was he Amara’s type? Either way, it didn’t matter. Chase was her type now. “So, he didn’t get the memo you are off of the market?”

“I guess not. Actually, I thought he no longer worked for the supply company. He let himself in from the back. I think he came directly to my office.”

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