Justine Davis - Operation Homecoming

Dear Reader Dear Reader Dear Reader Title Page About the Author Dedication Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Epilogue Extract Copyright , If you’ve been reading the Cutter’s Code series, and have perhaps also read these letters in previous books, you’ll know I’ve mentioned my fascination with brothers, the brother bond and how it’s different from others. In Operation Reunion I explored a brother/sister relationship, in Operation Unleashed it was brother/brother. So I thought I was done with that, at least for a while. Now it was a best friend that had me fascinated, an awkward, rather nerdy child who had bloomed into an amazing woman I was really starting to like. But I had to come up with a hero who deserved her. And then one day a reader wrote me a note saying in essence, “Hey, you forgot a brother!” And indeed I had. Walker Cole had been mentioned in passing a couple of times as Hayley’s “walkabout” brother, but I hadn’t really delved into where he’d been or why. Because I had no idea. Well, now I do, and wow, what a time he’s been through! He had to work very hard for his happy ending—and his heroine—but he’s learned the hard way how to be tough enough. It was a long journey for both characters in this story. Nearly a lifetime, in fact. I hope you enjoy their story. Happy reading! Justine

Title Page Operation Homecoming Justine Davis www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author JUSTINE DAVIS lives on Puget Sound in Washington State, watching big ships and the occasional submarine go by and sharing the neighborhood with assorted wildlife, including a pair of bald eagles, deer, a bear or two and a tailless raccoon. In the few hours when she’s not planning, plotting or writing her next book, her favorite things are photography, knitting her way through a huge yarn stash and driving her restored 1967 Corvette roadster—top down, of course. Connect with Justine at her website, justinedavis.com , at twitter.com/justine_d_davis , or on Facebook at facebook.com/justinedaredavis .

Dedication Lucky August 2000–October 2011 Lucky was the first dog my kids picked out, a pound puppy who became our 90lb baby and wanted to be a lap dog. A gentle giant, a white and black lab mix who looked like a huge Dalmatian, but who hid behind the chair whenever he saw a camera. He liked to be combed, and he guarded and took care of our rabbits. The rabbits got out of the hutch somehow and we found him and the rabbits lying next to each other under the shade tree. He loved our two Poms and played happily with Fang (my son’s cat). He was brave, but his feet wouldn’t stay still unless he really thought you needed protection, then he would stand between you and it. What we thought was an infection and old age turned out to be cancer. There was nothing to do that wouldn’t make him miserable, and we had to say goodbye. It was a shock, and we still miss him. Our Poms still won’t eat out of his bowl. He will always have a special place in my heart. He was a good dog. LuDena Radford This is the latest in a series of dedications from readers who have shared the pain of the loss of a beloved dog. For more details, check Justine’s blog at justinedavis.com .

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Amy Clark slipped her glasses back on as she reached the baggage claim carousel. It was cool and rainy here in Seattle in mid-April, but LA had been having an early heat wave so she welcomed the change. She welcomed even more being away from everything else she’d left behind. Already the burden of her problem felt lighter.

Even after years away, this misty green place still felt like home.

It felt safe.

With your luck, you’ll end up back here soon, running home because the big, bad city was too ugly, too nasty for you.

She wasn’t ready to admit that it was both those things yet. She’d worked hard and loved her job as a paralegal. She wasn’t ready to give up on the dream. Even if it seemed on the edge of turning into a nightmare.

Which reminded her, she was going to have to get her car fixed when she got home. How stupid to have scraped it up like that trying to escape that van that hadn’t really been following her anyway. It just happened to be going the same direction, hundreds of people headed for the airport and the surrounding area every day. She was just on edge, her imagination in overdrive. She—

“Hey, stranger!”

She whirled, a huge grin spreading across her face as she saw her best friend. Hayley Cole—Foxworth, she corrected, still not quite used to the change—looked as she always did, vibrant, her green eyes sparkling. Their hug was worthy of two people who had been friends since the second grade.

The baggage carousel came alive, began to move. Hayley looked at it warily.

“I’m getting better,” Amy said with a laugh. “A whole three-day weekend with only one bag and a carry-on.”

“And a purse the size of Alaska,” Hayley retorted.

“Well, yes. Because you never know.”

“It’s not really leaving home if you bring most of home with you,” Hayley said, right on cue. They both laughed at the old, familiar exchange.

Amy spotted her suitcase and grabbed it as it circled past. It was heavy, but not impossible, and they were soon headed to the parking structure. She was glad she’d put on her jacket, but still welcomed the chill in the air.

“Hot in LA, huh?” Hayley asked.

“In more ways than one,” Amy said, a bit of the grimness she’d pushed aside creeping back into her voice. But she didn’t want to go into it now, so she diverted. “Are the daffs up?”

“All over,” Hayley answered. “Mr. Elkhart planted some new ones last fall, some interesting colors.”

“I’m a traditionalist—I love the yellow ones.” A bouquet of daffodils was one of the most cheerful sights she could imagine.

“I know, you always did. We can...”

Hayley broke off, laughing. They’d reached her car, and a second later Amy was laughing, too. For sitting in the driver’s seat, looking at them with a pleased expression, was Hayley’s dog, Cutter.

“I left him in the back,” Hayley said.

“Is he going to drive?” she asked with a grin.

“Wouldn’t surprise me. At all.”

Amy laughed at Hayley’s serious tone as her friend hit the unlock button and the compact SUV chirped obligingly. She opened the driver’s door. Cutter jumped out at their feet. He was as beautiful as Amy remembered with his black head and shoulders and russet-brown body. He greeted Hayley with a swipe of pink tongue. To Amy’s surprise, she herself got a more effusive greeting, a plumy tail-wagging, nudging sort of dance that made her smile. She set down her voluminous purse to greet him properly.

“Well, hello again, Cutter.”