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Donovan hadn’t heard this story. He’d never known his mother knew who his father was. He’d pretty much figured it was some drunk cowboy on the circuit. He never imagined Ike knew, that others knew.

“Who was he?” The question escaped before he could stop it.

But Ike wouldn’t answer. “That’s your mother’s tale to tell. You have more questions about that, you’ll have to go talk to her.”

Donovan envisioned strolling up the rickety steps on the old Pepto Bismol pink trailer with its white racing stripes and knocking. Thought about sitting across from his mother and asking questions. About talking to her like she was anyone other than the woman who’d been somewhere in the background of his life for years. He didn’t think he could do it. He’d lived all these years without knowing the truth, and it hadn’t hurt him.

And even though he should feel sorry for the girl she’d been, he couldn’t. Anger and resentment didn’t leave much room for sympathy.

He refused to lie to Ike, so he sat there on the couch in silence.

He’d always known about Ike’s military career. Knew he spent much of his enlisted time overseas. But Ike didn’t speak of it. It was like he’d gone on an extended vacation and come back with amnesia. Once he and Grady had done a report over the Middle East for American History class, and Ike let them see his medals, but that was it.

He didn’t watch movies about war, didn’t read books. He simply avoided the topic all together. The same way he avoided talk about cancer, the disease that had stolen his wife.

“You know, when Kacie Jo told me she was pregnant, I knew the baby was yours and my heart broke for my baby girl. I didn’t figure you’d be back. When she told me she was marrying you, I wasn’t all that thrilled, either.”

Why was the man telling him all this? Why not just tell him the truth plain and simple, whatever the truth was?

“I’ve got a pretty good idea what drove you back to Caldale, Donovan. Whatever else you lived through in the last few years, I know you covered the war. I know what that does to a man. I’ve seen people destroyed by their memories. Based on what I heard, I figured I’d be adding you to that list. The last thing in the world I wanted was my daughter marrying a man whose soul was damaged by things he saw and did. And your soul was damaged.”

It wasn’t a question, but still, Donovan nodded. Ike was right. His soul was damaged by what he’d seen. What he’d done. But because of Kacie Jo, he’d found his way back to life.

“But now I see you and Kacie Jo, and I think you have a chance, and son, chances like this don’t come along all that often.”

“I know,” he said, hoping Ike knew the truth of the statement. What he and Kacie Jo shared was special, miraculous really.

Donovan could hear Kacie Jo in the kitchen, could tell she was waiting for the conversation to end. Hell, she was probably listening.

Donovan thought Ike was done. He thought wrong.

“If you keep what ails you inside, it’ll eventually get you. Maybe in your sleep, maybe one day while you’re in your backyard grilling burgers, you’ll snap.”

Donovan didn’t want to talk about it. He was good now, courtesy of one Kacie Jo Nelson. “I’m fine, Ike. I really am. I didn’t fight. I reported what I saw. I talked to plenty of professionals when I came back. I just burned out.”

Ike didn’t buy it. “I talked to your friend, Sam. I heard all about that girl and then what happened after. A man lives through that, and the other deaths you reported, well, he’s going to have some God-awful nightmares. It’s not something you get over like the flu. It’s something you learn to live with like Diabetes.”

Donovan quit listening at the word nightmare. In his mind, he replayed the events of that day. The letter to Ali arrived the week before. Anaj knew they were going to kill her. Knew it and risked the letter anyway. The doctor said she couldn’t have babies. But she knew it wasn’t true. Knew it was just an excuse.

Her family had raised her to be strong and independent, but she’d had to marry for alliance. It all seemed so barbaric to him, but she laughed at his outrage. She’d been promised to her husband at birth.

The lavish wedding ceremony was everything royalty expected, and he’d reported on it.

She’d been gone a year when the letter came addressed to Ali, but Donovan knew the plea was as much to him.

It didn’t matter that they tried to save her. They’d seen the fire that killed her, heard her screams, heard all about the supposed accident. And they’d walked away knowing Anaj had been murdered.

It was bad enough that she’d been killed in such a vicious manner. But Donovan couldn’t escape his own role in her death.

Anaj’s new family had killed her for a number of reasons. Some political, others personal. But her fate had truly been sealed the day her husband found her watching the western news channel. Found her watching him.

And there was nothing he could do about it. Or the civil war that erupted days later.

Donovan forced his attention back to Ike’s words. He made himself listen and block out the memory. He could do that now. In Kacie Jo’s arms he found peace. And love. A way to forget.

Fortunately, she chose that moment to make her way back to the den with the beer and food.

“I hope you two had a good conversation.” Kacie Jo set the tray on the table and ignored the fact that neither her husband nor her father affirmed her words. Inside she seethed. She loved her daddy but he was butting in where he didn’t belong.

“Remind me to never leave you two alone again…” a knock sounded at the door interrupting her. Probably Grady. He’d probably seen the car and couldn’t stay away. Maybe Eliza would be with him.

Kacie Jo wasn’t sure she was ready to start talking to her brother again, but she did have him to thank for the most wonderful week of her life.

When she opened the door, it wasn’t Grady, and it wasn’t Eliza.

Instead, the man she knew had to be Sam was standing on her daddy’s porch along with another man she didn’t know.

So this was what the devil looked like? A sickening darkness washed over her as she took in the man’s easy smile, his outstretched hand.

“You must be Kacie Jo. Grady told us we’d find you and Tex here.”

Tex. He called Donovan Tex. How little he knew him.

For a second she considered closing the door. Not even answering him. She wasn’t ready for this reality. Wasn’t ready to see the life Donovan chose.

“Good ol’ Grady,” she said, trying for light and fun. She took the man’s hand and smiled. “Based on what Donovan’s told me, you must be Sam.”

The devil smiled. “That’s right.”

She opened the door to let them in. “And that would make you?”

She let the question hang in the air as both men stepped into her family home. Donovan’s footsteps sounded like drumbeats as he approached. Their short escape was really over.

When Donovan’s shadow approached, she stared pointedly at the man who stood inside her father’s house looking for all the world as if he owned it.

Sam finally realized she was waiting for an answer, but it was Donovan who gave it to her. And the answer left her terrified, not only for her newly discovered relationship with her husband but for Donovan himself.

When Donovan heard the knock, a cold chill passed over him. That knock belonged to one person. They’d developed the cadence in Pakistan on assignment. Telling Ike he’d be right back, he made his way to the front door determined to tell Sam to get the hell out of town. He’d made it clear in Mexico. He wasn’t going back. End of story.

He rounded the corner intent on saying the words and instead came face to face with his nightmare.

For a moment he quit breathing, the cold chill of a thousand ghosts crossed his back and invaded his heart. He closed his eyes, tried to get a grip on the emotions pounding through him one after another, and instead saw mental images of death. Black smoke billowed from the depths of his mind and tried to suffocate him.

Jesus, he could barely breathe. What the hell was wrong with him? He had to get over this, had to get a grip, had to before he scared the living shit out of Kacie Jo, before he lost it completely.

Taking a deep breath he tried to remember what the damn doctors had told him when he’d first come back. The idiots the networks made him see hoping he’d be okay one day and be able to go back and show the rest of the world what it looked like to die.

He tried to count, tried to imagine a dark, cold room as he slowly caught his breath. None of it worked.

When he opened his eyes, Ali was still going to be standing there. He had to stop. He had to get a goddamned grip before he ended up in some hospital where people would look at him like a sorry head case. Like the people of Caldale had looked at his mother the whole time he was growing up.

There. An image to grasp on to, something to bring him back, to make everything else disappear. The pink trailer with its ridiculous racing stripes.

Slowly his breathing returned to normal, and Donovan could hear Kacie Jo calling his name. Could feel her hand on his shoulder.

“Donovan, are you okay?” She asked the same question three times, and he had to remind himself her concern was normal. Had to force himself to stay still, to not jerk away from her hand and tell her to just leave him the hell alone.

He’d never felt like this. Not even that night he left B’en Ai.

This was so stupid. He should be happy to see Ali. The man had been like a brother. He needed to get his head screwed on straight.

Finally, he opened his eyes. The light seemed brighter, grated on his nerves, but he forced a tight smile he hoped appeared normal. Forced himself to speak, to act.

“Jesus, Sam. You brought Ali all the way to Texas.”

He walked forward and embraced his friend all the while hoping he could keep his mind from spinning off into insanity.

“Don’t blame this one on me, Tex. Ali here showed up on his own last week.”

Sam forced a careless laugh, but Donovan could see the concern, could tell they didn’t think he was okay, could tell Kacie Jo wanted to throw herself in front of him—to protect him from unknown enemies.

He almost laughed. Almost.

But if he did, he’d never stop.

Jesus, Nelson, get yourself together. Stop acting like some psycho
.

Donovan turned to Ali and threw an arm over Kacie Jo’s shoulder to pull her to his side. Trying to reassure her, trying to let her see he was perfectly fine.

“Kacie Jo, let me introduce you to the sorriest member of the B’en Ai royal family. The man standing before you is Prince Ali Sahrain. His ancestors actually traded spices with Marco Polo. His grandfather had a harem and married the first time at twelve. Last I heard, Ali had avoided the marriage market mommas, but he’s highly sought after by women world wide. Something about billions of dollars in oil refineries and a Bedouin heritage does that for a man.”

Donovan laughed as he spoke. Forced himself to play the part of Tex Nelson, super reporter. Forced an ease he’d never again feel into his words.

As he spoke, he realized Kacie Jo wasn’t fooled. But he didn’t rightly care. As long as she didn’t ask him if he was okay again, he could get through this.

Behind him Ike’s footsteps sounded on the floor, and Donovan hoped like hell the man hadn’t seen his reaction. The last thing he needed was someone else who thought they knew what was wrong with him trying to get him to talk, to relive the experiences, to try to come to terms with what he’d seen. He had news for all those sadists. He’d lived through it. Lived through it live and in color. He didn’t need to try and
relive
it. He
needed
to forget.

But that wasn’t happening as long as Ali was standing in Caldale. Once the prince said what he needed to say and went back home, Donovan would be okay. Because Kacie Jo helped him forget. She was his cure.

“The man standing next to the prince looking all miffed at being left out is Sam Jackson.” He smiled at Kacie Jo, tried to act as if they were sharing some secret joke. “He’s the one I told you about.”

He pulled Kacie Jo tighter while making introductions ensuring Sam knew where things stood. He’d started a new life in Caldale.

Everyone shook hands, and Donovan could tell they were trying to act normal, as if nothing were wrong with him.

Nothing. Nothing was wrong with him. He’d burned out. That’s all it was. He’d burned out, and now he was in Caldale with Kacie Jo, the woman he loved. The woman who carried his child.

He was fine, dammit. Fine and dandy.

He just needed to get…. He stopped himself. Getting away wasn’t an option. And he’d be fine once he got through this. Once Sam left him alone. Once Ali left period.

He turned back to Ali, ready to act as if he wanted to see his old friend. Ready to pretend everything was normal, ready to be the gracious Texas host even as his world continued to spin out of control.

Thankfully, his father-in-law saved him. “Well, gentlemen, welcome to Caldale. Let’s move this into the den where you all can talk.”

And as they walked back to Ike Jenkins’ domain, Donovan wondered if the man hadn’t invited the visitors inside to help him get away from the door, away from his biggest temptation. Running.