A Soldier for Keeps (2 page)

If they only knew the half of it, they would never say it. They would never ask him to give up his goals, his principles and his beliefs for his own safety. Lexie hadn’t figured out what he was yet, and he said the words, not knowing how she would react. “I’m an Army Ranger.”

“Oh.” She took a step back. “Special Forces.”

He’d seen this before. A lot of well-meaning people heard those words and equated it with something bad. It was hard enough to do the job of fighting for this country, harder still to keep his armor up and his defenses in place on the home front. Someone had to do the tough, careful and protective job of keeping America safe from hatred and evil. He had seen countries where people were not safe in their homes from conscienceless, well-armed militias. The thought of that happening to his country broke his heart.

Hawk skied up. “I didn’t find anything. Do you want me to fetch someone, or should we take her down with us?”

“I’ll take her.” He couldn’t explain why he felt protective of her. “If that’s all right with you, Lexie.”

“Please. The last thing I want is to be hauled off the run in a bright red sled-stretcher thing in front of everyone. I’d be embarrassed.”

He understood. He liked the way she blushed at the idea of all that attention. He’d been away too long. He had forgotten there was good in this world. He knelt to take her hand. “I’m going to carry you on my back. Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. I’m messing up your fun. You came here to ski, not to take care of me.”

“Do you hear me complaining? Besides, I like to be useful. It keeps up my self-esteem.”

“As if you need any help with that.”

“Hey, you’re right.” He kept his tone light.

She managed an almost-smile until her gaze shifted to the slope of the mountain ahead, shrouded in snowfall. She must be thinking of the trip to come. Her eyes squinted against the pain and her dainty chin set with determination. A nice girl with strength. That was an interesting combination. He kept his emotional armor in place as he gently helped her over his shoulder. He’d carried men before, but they had been soldiers. It had been nothing like this, with her a light burden he could not forget. Her sweet scent of lilacs made him aware that some things in life were too good for a man like him.

He rose slowly, testing his balance, adjusting to her weight. “Don’t worry. I won’t go too fast.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

“Good. Does that mean you have a little faith in me?”

“Maybe just a little.” Her voice was thin and shaky, as if she was in a lot more pain than she cared to admit.

He knew what that was like, too. He wanted to pretend it was no big deal that he felt out of place here in this country he fought so hard to protect. But he did. He’d been gone so long, he felt like a stranger to himself. He could no longer see the man he used to be. He
had
to think that the man he’d become was much better.

He wasn’t sure. For now, he guessed it didn’t matter. Getting the woman help was his only mission. He braced his knees against the added weight, took the poles Hawk handed him, dug in and pushed off. The snowfall closed in around them, cutting off all view of the outside world.

She’d never been so miserable in her life. When the faint blur of the lodge’s lights broke through the storm, Lexie nearly cried with relief. The cold and pain were at an end. She hungered for the warmth of the lodge like a starving woman for food. Every time Pierce moved, sharp pain pared through her foot and shin bone. All she wanted was to collapse in front of the fire crackling in one of the lodge’s huge, old-fashioned stone hearths, cradle a cup of steaming chamomile tea in both hands and never move her ankle again.

Only a bit farther, she told herself. She had to hold on a little longer, that was all.

“We’re almost there.” Pierce’s steady tone reassured her. He had borne her weight all the way down the mountain and he was still going, alone because he had sent his friend ahead to check if there was a medical center at the lodge.

She didn’t know, but she was praying for it. She didn’t have a clue how she was going to drive on compact snow and ice all the way to the hospital in town. It
was starting to get dark. That meant she should be heading for home. She was working the late shift, although how she was going to do that with a broken ankle was anyone’s guess.

This was definitely the last time she was playing hooky. Next time she had the urge to play instead of finish her work, she was going to toss that idea right out the window. God must have been watching out for her, because of all the people who could have come down that mountain to help her, Pierce was the best choice. Who else could have slung her over his shoulder and skied down an advanced run? He’d made the trip as easy as he could on her, moving sparingly, checking to make sure she was holding on all right, and now, lifting her gently to the ground. She was aware of another pair of hands taking her other elbow. Hawk must have come back from the lodge.

“They’ll take care of you here,” he was saying.

There was an outside entrance to the medical center, she saw now. It was nothing more than a comfortable-looking room on the bottom floor of the lodge set up with a waiting area and, beyond another open door, a small examining room. “They mostly send the serious stuff by ambulance or airlift into the city, but Hawk thinks they can set it for you here if it’s not too bad. Do you need me to call anyone?”

“I came up here on my own.” She hopped two feet to the chair by the door and slumped into it. She quaked from cold and pain, and she hated that it showed. It was too vulnerable.

“You’re not alone.” His words came quietly.

She read the sincere caring in his eyes. Somehow that honest concern scared her more than anything ever had.

“Thank you.” Her voice sounded strained and unnat
ural, and clearing her throat didn’t fix it. “I appreciate all that you’ve done for me.”

“No problem. Here’s the nurse practitioner now.” He nodded toward the inside door, where a stern-looking woman with a short cap of dark hair and a white coat studied her intently.

“See you around, gorgeous.” He winked, flashed his amazing smile. He took two steps into the veil of snow and wind and disappeared from her sight.

“L
exie.”

Balancing on her new pair of crutches wasn’t easy, but she managed to look up at the sound of her name without toppling over. “Pierce?”

“Yep, it’s me.”

She couldn’t believe her eyes. Paper cup in hand, he really was standing in the middle of the nearly vacant corridor. At the sight of him, gladness rose like a bubble within her. She ignored it. “I didn’t think I would see you again. I have your coat and scarf.”

“I know. I was coming back to check on you.”

“You were?” She stopped, leaned one crutch against the wall and, balancing awkwardly, untied his jacket from around her waist. “That’s beyond the call of duty.”

“I’m big on duty.” He winked, all charm, but she wasn’t fooled. There were shadows in his eyes and steel in his voice. He wasn’t as carefree as he’d first seemed. He took the coat, bunching it up in one hand. “Thanks. How are you getting back home?”

“I’ve got it figured out, don’t you worry.” She might
not have the best plan or the least expensive one, but it would do. She wasn’t good at leaning on other people, even worse at asking for what she needed. She thought of her friends back on campus and any number of the freshmen kids on her floor with cars. Surely one of them would come to fetch her if she called. The trouble was, she couldn’t make herself do it. “You don’t have to hang around. I appreciate it, but I know you have better things to do.”

“What would that be?” He rescued the lone crutch from the wall and held it for her.

“Flying down the advanced run, for one thing. Didn’t you say this was your first fun run in a long time?” She settled onto both crutches and took another wobbly step. He really didn’t have to be so nice. “You should be out enjoying yourself.”

“Who says I’m not?” There was something patient in the way he slowed down, keeping pace with her. Something pleasant about him that reminded her of being carried down the mountain over his iron-strong shoulders. He looked even more invincible in the bright light as he came closer. “Besides, if I went back out, I wouldn’t enjoy myself knowing you’re on crutches. You’ve got to be hurting.”

“I’m trying not to think about it.” She wasn’t glad he’d come to check on her—at least that’s what she told herself. “You were pretty great up on that mountain. Something tells me that I’m not the first casualty you’ve come across.”

“Not even close.” He swallowed, as if battling down something he didn’t want to speak of. “But if I say you are the prettiest, you are going to think I’m trying to pick you up.”

“True.”

“And then you’re going to send me packing. You don’t entirely like me.”

“I’m not looking to be picked up.”

“I’m not a picker upper. No way. Not me. I’m a loner.” They reached the end of the hall and he hit the elevator button. “I used to fight it. I used to think I could change, but I was wrong.”

“I’ve been wrong before, too.”

“I’m not a man used to failure, but it’s one limit I’ve had to face. Love is one battlefield I want to stay off of.”

“So do I.” Sadness passed briefly over her face, as if she knew how he felt. “I thought I had finally found an honest, trustworthy man, but he was the exact opposite. Who needs that kind of trouble?”

“I’m in complete agreement.” The elevator dinged and he waited for the doors to open. His heart was heavy. He tried not to think of his failures. “What happened with the guy?”

“Kevin. He was a prelaw student. We were in the same senior philosophy course. Ethics.”

The doors opened and he held them, waiting for her to hobble into the car. “Let me guess. It was ironic.”

“Exactly. He started talking to me before class. I invited him to the Bible study we were starting in my dorm. He came across as this completely nice guy with great values.” Exhaustion bruised the delicate skin beneath her eyes. She fell silent, as if hurt and embarrassed to go on.

“And he tried playing you.”

“How did you know?” She leaned against the back wall, gazing up at him with those fabulous eyes.

“I’ve seen it before and before you wonder, I’m not
one of those types of men.” He hit the lobby button. “Kevin was the perfect boyfriend for the first few months, right?”

“Right. He made me believe—” She stared down at the floor. Her dark hair fell in a sleek curtain around her face, shielding her emotion from him. “He told me that he’d fallen deeply in love with me.”

“And so you fell in love with him.”

“Yes, and that makes me feel really stupid now. I never should have trusted him.” She looked down, as if trying to hide what had hurt. “He did everything right. He was especially supportive of my wanting an advanced degree. Some men think a woman they love should be content to be dependent on them, so I really liked that about him.”

“I understand. Women have dreams, too. My mom gave up hers to follow my dad from base to base. When he went AWOL on her, she had four of us to support. She would have had an easier time if she had training or an education to fall back on.”

“That’s what happened to my mom, too.” She stared at him, understanding what he hadn’t said. That when his dad ran out on his mom, he had run out on him, too. She knew, because she’d never been able to resolve her dad’s abandonment. Accept it, yes. Patch up their relationship, yes. But deep down, it would always be a scarred-over wound. “Kevin waited until I trusted him completely. Until I was head over heels in love with him. That’s when he started pressuring me for, well, you know. I’m not that kind of girl, so he had to go.”

“I’m sorry. I know how that can feel, to fall for someone and have them turn the tables on you. It happened to me, too. Different circumstance, different story, same outcome.”

The elevator dinged again. The doors opened to the bright main floor packed with skiers taking refuge from the storm. He waited, letting her go first, making sure the doors didn’t close on her as she ambled out into the fray. There was movement everywhere, people going from the sitting areas to the shops, folks coming in from the slopes coated with snow, and conversation roaring like a tank engine.

He spotted a couple of places in front of the fire and pointed them out. “That looks like a good place to park. You’re looking pretty pale. Something tells me you might want to get that foot elevated.”

“You could be right.” He liked the way she tried to smile, even when she had to be hurting. That showed spunk.

The smart thing to do would be to keep his distance, to help her out, but not be affected by it. The soldier in him did it all the time. The man in him couldn’t bring himself to do it. Maybe because they had walked a common path. He knew what it felt like to fall in love with someone and then discover they were someone else. That kind of deception was brutal.

“What happened to you?” She inched forward. “Wait, you aren’t going to tell me. You are the type of guy to keep your heartache where no one can see it.”

“True.” He kept at her side. He liked the way she crutched forward doggedly, although the stone floor had to be tough going.

“That’s it? You’re really not going to tell me.”

“There’s not much to tell.” He waited while she crept around the overstuffed chair before he took her crutches from her. “I thought Cindy would be supportive of my career, but she wasn’t.”

“Do you mean she was worried about you? Or that she wanted you to be something you weren’t?” She eased into the chair slowly, watching him with her wise eyes.

It was like taking a blow to the chest. She understood. He wanted to argue it away or deny it, but no one—not Cindy, not his family, nor even his buddies—could see what had wounded him. Why he’d ended their engagement.

“That’s it exactly.” He leaned the crutches against the wall. The heat of the fire blasted him as he crossed to the chair beside her. “She knew that I wanted a long Army career. She knew it came with a lot of sacrifice and time spent apart. But as soon as she got the ring on her finger, she started needing more than I could give her and found someone who could. She left me—” He stopped short of saying the words.

But she knew them. “For another guy?”

“Bingo.” He stared into the fire. “She said the Army didn’t pay enough. That I wasn’t enough.”

“She actually told you that?”

“Oh, yeah. And I had been the fool who loved her.”

“Then she hadn’t loved you, not if she could leave you.” Lexie winced as she lifted her foot onto the ottoman. Pierce leaned forward with a pillow and placed it under her cast. He had a gentle touch. With the firelight on his face, he looked harsh as raw steel. She relaxed into the chair. “I don’t know about you, but I felt pretty dumb.”

“Yep. Like I’ve been taken for a ride. But the truth is, I wasn’t around enough. She had a point.” He handed her the cup he’d been carrying. “This is for you. I figured a hot cup of tea would make you feel better. It’s chamomile.”

“Chamomile?” She stared at him in shock. How had he known? With the warmth from the fire, the comfort of the chair, the heat from the cup seeping into her hands, it was the very image that had kept her going through the pain and cold on the ride down the mountain.

“I can get you something else if you want,” he offered.

“No, this is perfect. Thanks. Where’s your friend?”

“Hawk is out clearing off and warming up my rental truck. You’re going to need a ride home.”

“Oh, I’ve got it covered.” She took a sip of the steaming brew. The steamy, herbal goodness warmed her all the way down. She felt better. Infinitely better.

“I’m afraid that means you’re going to try to drive with your left foot. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Neither do I.” Why wasn’t she going to confess her plan to him? Because she knew deep down he would point out all its flaws, and there were many. She took another sip, hoping inspiration would strike. She couldn’t think of another solution, at least one that didn’t depend on someone else.

“Maybe I should make sure you get home.”

“Why are you doing all this?”

“You’re my sister’s R.A. Isn’t that enough of a reason?”

“But you don’t know me. I don’t know you. I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong, but you’ve gone beyond all duty. I don’t want to trouble you anymore.”

“That’s a strategic and polite way of saying that you don’t want to be beholden to me. I help you and then who knows what I’ll expect?”

“Something like that.”

“I’ve known people like that, too. No worries.” He leaned closer, the perfect image of intense male honor. “Give me your keys. I’ll warm up your car and bring it up to the curb. I’ll drive you home, and Hawk can tail us. And don’t worry, no strings attached.”

“But that means you’ll miss your chance to ski.”

“Maybe we’ll come back for night skiing. It’s no biggie.” He rose, towering over her, his jaw set, his eyes determined and a grin flirting at the corners of his mouth. “It’s not like I’m a complete stranger since you know my sister, so I’m not taking no for an answer. Get used to it.”

Why that made her want to laugh, she couldn’t say. “I don’t like domineering guys.”

“See? That’s your insurance I have no ulterior motive. It’s not like I can charm you.” He flashed her a hint of a smile and while it was only for a moment, it was long enough for her to see the goodness in him. His smile was calm and steady and kind.

She sighed all the way to her soul. She had a weakness for kind, big strong men. Any moment now her untrustworthy guy-meter was going to go off like a smoke alarm, but there was no
ding! ding!
like a warning bell. No instinctive urge to escape the man. No looming sense of impending doom.

“What’s your vehicle and where are you parked?” he asked, shoulders braced, as if ready for his mission.

Yep, she definitely had to keep her defenses up with this one.

Snow hammered his face as he swept Lexie into his arms. Hawk took her crutches and disappeared through the storm. White-out conditions, a heady wind and the
snow was deep powder beneath his boots. Perfect skiing conditions. Some folks would pack it in and head home, but everything in him ached to catch a ride on the chair lift and hit the slope as hard and as fast as he could go.

Maybe next time. He feared by the time he’d gotten Lexie back to her dorm and made it back up the mountain, they would probably have closed the runs. As it was, they would be lucky if the state patrol didn’t close the pass. Well, they’d cross that bridge if they got to it.

In the meantime, her weight in his arms was sweetness. Not something he was used to feeling. A light shone out of the stormy shadows—the dome light. Hawk had the passenger door open, the crutches stowed, and the backseat ready for the patient. He told himself he was more than glad to lower her gently into the shelter of the vehicle. Snow no longer stung his face, although it did beat an angry rhythm against his back as he leaned over to help buckle her up. Her hair brushing against his chin felt like the finest strands of silk. His arms felt strangely empty as he took a step away.

“All settled?” he asked, his voice unusually husky.

“Very. Thanks.” Her grateful smile was pure wholesome charm. “Tell me you don’t drive the way you ski.”

“If I do, then what’s wrong with that?” he quipped. She was teasing him. Well, he could do it, too. “Buckle up. I suggest you hold on to something.”

“Funny. I feel so much better now.” She collapsed against the seat, exhaustion bruising her face. “My chauffeur is a comedian.”

“Only an amateur comedian, but a good snow driver.” He closed the door, welcoming the numbing cold of the icy snow. It whipped his face, driving out
the warmer emotions that had taken root in his chest. He had given up on love. It didn’t exist for him. He wasn’t good at it. He had no business feeling anything tender toward anyone. End of story.

Besides, a girl like Lexie would never want anything to do with a man like him.

“You okay?” Hawk asked, rattling his keys in one hand.

“I’m good.” There were some things best left unsaid. “What’s the latest on the roads?”

“Word is the pass is about to close.”

“Let’s hope this isn’t going to be a short ride.” He waved his buddy off, who headed for the truck parked behind Lexie’s SUV. Snow had already accumulated on the side window, so he scrubbed it off with his sleeve before he dropped behind the wheel.