Patricia Potter - The Soldier's Promise

He wanted to say yes. The damn leg was hurting like hell after his work in the backyard. But he’d never asked for help before and he wasn’t going to start now. “I can do it,” he said, then added a belated, “Thanks.”

He was suffering when he got everything into the dusty Jeep Wrangler, and he realized he’d been a damn fool. But he wasn’t ready to depend on anyone else. His entire life had been built on self-sufficiency. He’d never needed anyone, not since he was ten years old and he’d taken care of his mother rather than the other way around.

He sure as hell wasn’t ready for women waking him with brownies or a mayor wandering into his backyard when he was working.

Even a very pretty mayor. To be honest, it wasn’t her he didn’t like, but rather the superheated attraction that had sprung so quickly between them. It scared the hell out of him. The last thing he needed now was complications.

He glanced at his watch. After two, and he was starved. Maybe he would try the diner down the street. Shouldn’t be too many people there at this time. And he was tired of cereal and sandwiches.

He passed Monroe Real Estate and Insurance Company and glanced at the photos in the front window: several farms for sale, a ranch five miles out of town and a hunting cabin in the mountains. There were also several small homes.

Once he finished fixing the cabin, an advertisement for it would probably go up there, as well.

He stopped to pick up a newspaper from a rack in front of Maude’s Diner. Reading usually kept people away. As he’d hoped, the restaurant was nearly empty. A couple of elderly men sat at the counter with coffee and two young guys sat in a booth chowing down burgers. A young woman behind a counter eyed him as he entered and hurried over as he sat down. “Good afternoon,” she said brightly, holding out a paper menu.

He nodded and declined the menu. “You have a steak?”

“We do. Several of them. The sirloin is the best.”

“Then I want one, rare, and a second one to go,” he said.

“Comes with two sides. Fries or mashed potatoes, green beans, salad, corn, squash.”

“Fries,” he said. “And beans.”

“And with the order to go?”

“Just a steak,” he said. “Also rare.”

She nodded and hurried off. He took up the newspaper. A weekly, and not much in it. The restaurant door opened, and he looked up. A youngish man in a deputy’s uniform walked in. He came to Josh’s booth, his eyes cold. “You must be the one living out at the lake.”

Josh didn’t answer. Just waited.

“Had a burglary here last night,” the deputy said.

Josh raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “It happens.”

“Not until you came to town. Mind telling me where you were last night?”

“I do,” Josh said. “Unless you have more of a reason than I just moved here.”

The deputy put his hand on his holstered gun.

Josh locked gazes with him. The door opened again, and Josh watched the mayor walk in. His stomach muscles tightened as she moved toward them, a frown wrinkling her brow.

“Mr. Manning,” she acknowledged, then turned to the deputy. “Sam,” she said, “Find anything?”

“No, ma’am. I just arrived.”

“Then I suggest you talk to Maude.”

“I was just asking this...person where he was last night. He refused to answer.”

“Why don’t you see if you can find some evidence first?” she asked patiently.

Anger sparked in his eyes, but he turned away and went to the back of the restaurant.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said. “Sam’s a little eager. There was a burglary here last night, and we’re all a little protective of Maude. She cooks the best food around.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said evenly. “About the food, I mean.”

“Your first time at Maude’s?”

“You don’t already know that?” he retorted.

“Well, I know you just bought paint in Calvin’s store,” she admitted. “I thought you might come here.”

“And...”

“I wanted to explain about this morning. No one’s lived in that cabin for a long time and...” She faltered as her gaze met his. He was suddenly warm, too warm. And he saw her stiffening as if bracing against something.

An almost palpable tension leaped between them. Time seemed to slow, and he wasn’t aware of anyone else in the room. Heat simmered inside him like the sun hitting desert rocks.

The moment shattered when the waitress shoved a cup of coffee before him, as well as a napkin and utensils.

“How’s Nick?” the waitress asked the mayor.

The mayor’s face lit with that infectious smile, breaking the tension. “Doing great. He’s going to pitch tomorrow night. You going to be there with Jamie?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” The waitress grinned down at Josh. “Our boys play Little League together.”

Josh stiffened. God, he should have remembered that ring. Not only was she married, but she also had a son.

He turned back to his paper. The signal was undeniable. Leave me alone.

The mayor started to turn away. “Enjoy your meal,” she told him. Then said, “I’ll see you tomorrow” to the waitress.

She left, and some of the light seemed to leave the room with her.

* * *

EVE WAITED AT the school to pick up Nick. It was two miles to her house and she’d resisted his pleas to ride his bike. She wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

She needed the time to think. She was still unsettled by the meeting with Joshua Manning. Something slammed into her each time they met. She felt tongue-tied and unsure, and she hated that feeling. She certainly didn’t understand why she’d felt compelled to go into the diner when she’d seen Josh Manning inside.

Or why she’d lied when she went in.... She hadn’t meant to apologize at all, but she’d been drawn inside like metal to a magnet. And then she’d just uttered the first thing that came to her mind. Stupid.

She told herself it was just to prove to herself that the attraction in the morning was her imagination. Or something fleeting.

It hadn’t been, and that terrified her.

The sound of yelling interrupted her as kids poured through the school doors. Nick came running when he saw Miss Mollie—who could miss the old pickup?—and climbed in next to her.

“Got an A on my essay,” he said with a relieved grin. “That means a dollar, right?”

“That’s for an A on a report card,” she replied, suddenly cheery that the love of her life was here. It had been a long time—more than four years to be exact—since he had stood beside her as his father was buried.

She put her arm around him and kissed the top of his head. She wanted to do more. She wanted to hug him with all the strength she had, but she knew he wouldn’t like that. Not here.

She started the car and tried to relax. Just having Nick next to her made her feel better. Cleared her mind. He was everything that was important. And he was so like his father. Considerate, likable and always ready for a challenge.

She sighed, listening to Nick chatter about the essay. It had been about his father, and at first he had been reluctant to write it. But once he’d started he’d written like a whirlwind. He hadn’t let her read it, although she usually helped with homework.

“Can I read it when we get home?” she asked.

He went silent for a moment, then nodded.

“I know you didn’t want me to read it before you turned it in.”

“’Cause I was afraid it wasn’t good enough.”

“And your teacher said it was?”

He nodded again.

Her heart nearly burst with love for him, and regret that he’d lost the father he loved so much. It was so wrong. So unexpected. A tear slipped down her face and she rubbed it away, relieved that Nick was looking in the other direction.