Page 4 of Bad Girls Don't Marry Marines (Rock Canyon, Idaho 3)

Val’s stomach twisted with envy as she turned down the next aisle. It happened every time she saw a pregnant woman or a small child, and the reality of what she’d never have came back to haunt her.

Before she’d married Cole, she’d always imagined having a large family: three or four kids and a loving husband. But after trying for their whole marriage with nothing to show for it, Val had gone to her OB/GYN for answers.

“Valerie, I’ve looked at the tests, the ultrasounds, and the blood work. You have something called polycystic ovary syndrome. As of right now, I see no cysts, but your testosterone and sugar levels are high, which combined with your infertility helped me to diagnose it. This disease makes it very difficult to get pregnant without fertility drugs.”

She’d asked for percentages, read everything she could find on it, and even cut sugar out of her diet. When none of that worked, she’d asked Cole to go to the doctor too, just to check his sperm count. He’d been furious with her at the suggestion and refused.

“We already know who the problem is.”

For two months, tensions grew between them, while Val tried everything to save their marriage. She had been open to adoption, but Cole had nixed that idea.

“If I’m going to raise a child, it’ll be my child.”

She’d just wanted a family.

She had been heartbroken over the discovery that she would never know what it felt like to have her child move inside her for the first time. That she wouldn’t get to hear its heartbeat or look into its face and see herself there.

This is why you need to avoid leaving the house.

Val grabbed a package of premade cookie dough and decided that the rest her grocery shopping could wait. Right now, she wanted to be home, alone, without any catty townspeople, adorable newborns, or men who could make a grown woman turn to mush with just a glance.

“HEY, WHAT’S THE matter with you? You’re acting like Dad kicked your dog or something.”

Justin had his head under the hood of their old farm truck, so he had no idea why his brother thought he was acting like anything. “I’m just working on the truck.”

“Yeah, but you’re slamming tools and jerking around. What happened? You lose another bet?”

Justin pulled up from what he was doing and gave his brother a level look. “No. I am concentrating. That’s it.”

“Fine, I was just trying to help.” Everett’s wide grin made the scarred side of his face more distinctive. The red, puckered flesh had been healed for several years but still drew the eye. He was a strong man and sported the same square jaw and light brown eyes as Justin, but that wasn’t what strangers noticed first. They noticed the scars.

Everett had been finishing his second tour in Afghanistan when a roadside bomb had taken out his Humvee. After trying to save his friend, he’d ended up in a military hospital with third-degree burns along the left side of his face and neck and damaged hearing. His friend hadn’t survived.

Still, the townsfolk of Rock Canyon looked at Everett as a hero. They didn’t know about his nightmares, though, or the severe PTSD that had cost him his wife, Melanie. By the time he’d come back to Rock Canyon, he’d been seeing a counselor for six months and signed up for classes online. Now he divided his time between his nonprofit organization for military personnel just returning home and helping his dad on the ranch.

Everett was the reason Justin had joined the Marines in the first place, but while his brother had been in infantry, working his way up the ranks, Justin had scored so high on the ASVAB that he had been able to practically choose his assignment. A guy he’d met in basic had chosen a tech position and been stationed in Japan, but Justin hadn’t wanted to sit in front of a computer all day; he had spent his whole life working outside and couldn’t imagine being cooped up.

He’d chosen to be a mechanic—a trade he could take with him when he got out. He wasn’t like Everett, who would have been a lifer, although he had stayed in longer than he’d originally planned. He’d only planned on staying in for the minimum enlistment period, but when most of his unit had decided to reenlist, so had he.

He’d wanted the education and the benefits because without them, the only thing he was going to end up doing was working the farm an

d taking care of his dad when he got too drunk to stand on his own. But as the years went by, it became more about doing the right thing for his country.

Justin’s mouth twisted grimly. He’d left home at eighteen to escape the life of a farmer and twelve years later, he was right back where he’d started. He could have left any time, if he’d really wanted to, but he couldn’t turn his back on the only family he had. In spite of the times his dad let his demons get the best of him, he was a good man and father.

He was just a stubborn son of a bitch.

“You seem more pensive than usual,” Everett said, handing him a beer as he sat down on one of the stools in the garage.

Justin grinned as he popped the top and took a swig. “Trying to psychoanalyze me, brother?”

“You kidding me? I don’t want to delve any deeper in that head of yours.” Everett tipped his beer up again and wiped his mouth. “Who knows what I’d find?”

“Nothing terribly complicated up here.” Justin tapped the side of his head for emphasis, despite the image of one extremely complicated woman that he couldn’t seem to forget.

He’d seen Valerie Willis around town a few times since she’d moved back, but today at Hall’s Market had been the first time he’d really talked to her. Rumor had it she’d cheated on her ex-husband, Cole Channing, a real up-and-comer in politics, and after he’d divorced her, she’d come home to ride out the scandal. It was hard for Justin to reconcile the Valerie he remembered with the cold, heartless bitch the townspeople portrayed her as.

But wasn’t there a grain of truth to every rumor? People changed a lot in their early twenties, and it was entirely possible that the Valerie he’d met ten years ago was gone. That Val had been beautiful and wild, like a bobcat he’d once seen running across a meadow.

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