Heart of a Soldier Read online

  “Please don’t blame Dylan. None of this is his fault.”

  “So what exactly is he to you? A friend? Pen pal? Or something more?” Tate’s voice was tinged with curiosity.

  Holly sighed. Tate’s question hit a sore spot. Although it was clear feelings had blossomed between the two of them over the course of more than a year, neither of them had ever laid their feelings on the line. And having a letter-writing relationship couldn’t begin to compare to a real face-to-face interaction. Other than gut instinct, she didn’t have any proof of Dylan’s feelings. She had the feeling that coming to West Falls had been his way of exploring their relationship and showing her how much he wanted them to meet one-on-one. After all, hadn’t Dylan written about wanting to say certain things to her in person? But now everything had changed. She’d been a fool to ever think she was on Dylan’s level.

  “We were building toward something. I’m pretty sure that’s why he came all this way to see me.” She let out a ragged breath, releasing the weight of the world from her shoulders. “For the first time since the accident, I felt as if I was developing a romantic rapport with someone. And I got carried away with those feelings. I can admit that. It felt so good to be treated like a whole person. I just didn’t want that to end. That’s why I hid the truth from him in all of my letters.”

  “Being a paraplegic doesn’t make you any less of a person.” Tate made a clucking sound. “The sight of you in a wheelchair shouldn’t send him running.”

  “He has every right to be mad. And upset. And disappointed.” She lowered her head, unable to look her brother in the eye.

  Tate reached down and lifted up her chin. “Don’t even go down that road. You could never be a disappointment. You’re beautiful and funny and smart, with a heart as big as the outdoors.”

  “He doesn’t see a future with me.” The words clogged in her throat, and she fought the sudden urge to cry. Where had all her strength gone? Why did her insides feel like mush?

  Tate scowled, looking every inch the tough Texas lawman. He clenched his jaw. “Did he say that to you?”

  She swallowed. It was painful admitting the truth. “He didn’t have to, Tate. I could see it in his eyes. In the way he looked at me. All the life went out of them.”

  He made a clucking sound with his tongue. “Then he’s not worth a single second more of your time.”

  She could see the raw emotion on her brother’s face. It mirrored how she felt inside. Her throat clogged up. “That’s not fair. I was the one who wasn’t honest. No matter how I justified it at the time, it was wrong of me.”

  Tate rocked back on his heels, his silver-tipped cowboy boots glinting in the sun. He jammed his fists into his front pockets.

  “Any man would be blessed to have you.” He gazed off into the distance, his expression steely. “I worry about you, little sis. And it has nothing to do with you being in a wheelchair. You’ve worn your emotions on your sleeve ever since you were a kid. It kills me to think of someone hurting you.”

  “It’s part of being alive. It happens when you live life.” She shrugged. “Let’s face it. It comes with the territory. Even tough lawmen like you aren’t immune to it.”

  Tate swung his gaze back in her direction. His eyes were moist. “You’ve always been a wise soul, do you know that? Even when we were kids and I was trying to protect you from the world, you always had a strong head on your shoulders. You never really needed me to fight your battles, did you?”

  Holly chuckled as memories of her overprotective brother ran through her mind. “Nope, I didn’t. But I always loved the fact that you cared enough to be my protector. It made me feel special.”

  “I’ll never give up that role, you know,” Tate said with a smirk. “It’s a lifelong assignment.”

  Holly playfully rolled her eyes. “I can’t wait till you and Cassidy get married and have a house full of kids. You’ll be so busy chasing after them you won’t have time to watch over me.”

  The thought of it made her a little wistful. Would she ever have a husband and a house full of kids? Or would she be relegated to the role of spinster auntie? Even before the accident, she’d always dreamed of rocking a baby to sleep in her arms. Now that might never happen. Was it realistic to dream of things that might not come to pass?

  “It’s hard to believe we’re finally getting married.” His larger-than-life grin was threatening to take over his entire face. It was nice to see Tate so overjoyed and on the verge of having all his dreams come to fruition. For a few minutes the two of them simply savored the moment, basking in the promise of tomorrow. Each and every day, Holly found great inspiration in Tate and Cassidy’s love story. It kept her hoping and dreaming and praying. Perhaps she, too, would find her happily ever after.

  “By the way, Dylan’s not running.” She tried to keep her tone conversational, despite the rapid quickening of her pulse. “For the next few months, anyway, he’s sticking around in West Falls.”

  Her brother raised an eyebrow. “So what does that mean for the two of you?”

  “We’re just friends,” she said. “I even told him to apply for a job here at the ranch. He’s plenty qualified.”

  Tate furrowed his brow. “You’re okay with him working here?”

  She nodded her head vigorously. “I think it would be great. Hopefully I’ll get the chance to win back his trust, if he’ll allow me to.”

  Even though her statement was technically true about being in the friend zone with Dylan, she couldn’t deny the rush of adrenaline she felt at the mere thought of him. Dylan Hart, her gorgeous, green-eyed pen pal. Her brave soldier. The man who’d traveled all the way from Oklahoma to see her, based on the connection they’d established.

  For a woman who’d fought tooth and nail to rebuild her life after losing the ability to walk, it didn’t feel good to feel so conflicted. She wished she could turn back time and rewrite all the letters she’d sent to Dylan. This time around she wouldn’t hesitate to tell him the truth. Pressing her eyes closed, she prayed that she might have the opportunity to show Dylan she was the kind of woman he’d believed her to be before he’d arrived in West Falls.

  Chapter Four

  Dylan revved the engine of his truck, hoping the loud noise would rid his mind of all the chaotic thoughts swirling around him. The urge to leave Horseshoe Bend Ranch felt overwhelming. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, letting out a low groan as he did so. Frustration speared him. Why would God allow a young girl to lose the use of her legs? Why did things like this happen?

  The feelings of helplessness roared through him like thunder. It was the same question he’d pondered when Benji and Simon Akol had been killed in such a senseless, violent way. Where was He that day? In the days following Benji’s and Simon’s deaths, he’d been flat on his back, recovering from a broken neck, a hairline skull fracture and facial lacerations. For endless hours he’d replayed the explosion in his mind—the wreckage, the blood, the cries of pain, which still rang out in his ears. All the while he’d had no clue that two members of his squad had been killed, wiped out in a single deadly blast. His focus had been on staying alive.

  Dark memories swept over him, threatening to take him to a place he didn’t want to revisit. He’d tried so hard to forget the feelings of despair that had consumed him in the days and weeks after the bomb blast. And the fear of the unknown. He didn’t want to lash out at God, not when he’d come so far on his spiritual journey. Although he still had a ways to go, he knew he’d turned a corner two and a half years ago. There was no way he was going back to that place in time when he’d been a nonbeliever.

  Pressing his eyes closed, he tried to stop the flood of images from rushing through his mind. He didn’t like to go back to those moments when dread had been ever present. It made him feel vulnerable and weak and not in control of his own destiny.
r />   Son, you may never walk again. The military chaplain had clasped his hand and broken the news to him in the most compassionate way possible. He’d completely broken down, unable to comprehend a life without the use of his legs. During the bleakest days of his life, his mother had been at his side. They’d prayed together, asking God to grant him mercy and healing. In the end, once all the swelling subsided, he’d experienced sensation in his toes. From there he’d endured months of physical therapy, resulting in his regaining 100 percent function.

  As the beautiful West Falls landscape passed by his window, a feeling of uncertainty grabbed hold of him. What am I doing here? I thought by coming to West Falls I was following a path that would lead me toward the next chapter of my life. Had this entire journey been nothing more than a pipe dream? A rash, foolish mistake?

  The downtown area of West Falls was a vibrant section filled with quaint businesses. It looked like something one might see on a festive postcard. Colorful awnings, old-fashioned lampposts, kids skipping along the sidewalk. The Bowlarama caught his eye. Bowling had been one of his favorite pastimes as a kid growing up in Madden. For some reason Holly’s image flashed before his eyes, and he wondered if she bowled. Was it even possible?

  The cream-and-purple sign advertising the Falls Diner beckoned him like a beacon. West Falls was a far cry from the town he’d grown up in. Everyone greeted him with a warm hello or a smile in his direction. Many eyed him with curiosity. It didn’t offend him one bit since the townsfolk seemed hospitable, not standoffish. No one made him feel like an outsider, something he’d been feeling for most of his life. It was a unique experience to have the welcome mat rolled out for him.

  For Dylan, walking through the doors of the diner felt like stepping into another world. Delightful aromas wafted in the air as a pink-haired waitress poured coffee into nice-size mugs and chatted amiably with customers. Salmon-colored seats and aqua menus jumped out at him. The rhythmic beat of a blues band emanated from the jukebox. He looked down at a black-and-white parquet floor so clean he could almost see his reflection.

  “Couldn’t resist the smell, could you?” The gravelly voice drew his attention toward the counter area where Doc Sampson stood watching him. He wore a snowy apron with the word Doc emblazoned in red across the front. With a head full of white hair, warm brown eyes and a kindly expression, he was the quintessential small-town proprietor.

  “I have to admit, you had me as soon as I spotted your sign.” He patted his stomach. “I’m starving. What do you recommend?”

  “Take a seat, son,” Doc said as he gestured toward the counter. “How about the blue plate special with all the trimmings? It’s the best buffalo chicken and sweet-potato fries you’ll ever eat.”

  He slid onto the stool, feeling like a little kid again as he eyed one of the waitresses making a milk shake in the blender. “Sure. Sounds great, Mr. Sampson.” In fact, it sounded so amazing his stomach began to grumble noisily. He hadn’t eaten a bite since this morning. His eagerness to meet Holly had trumped his legendary appetite.

  “What’s with the Mr. Sampson business? Everyone around these parts calls me Doc.”

  He nodded his head in agreement. “Doc it is, then. And the blue plate special will do just fine.”

  “Coming right up, son.” He studied Dylan for a moment, his silver brows furrowed. “I don’t mean to pry, but I heard you were out at Horseshoe Bend Ranch. Were you looking for a job? I know they’re looking for a few ranch hands. I’d be happy to put in a good word for you with the foreman, Malachi Finley.”

  Dylan tried to stuff down a feeling of discomfort. Doc Sampson seemed like a great guy, but after living in a gossipy town like Madden, he wasn’t interested in revisiting the experience. It was only his first day in town, yet rumors about his comings and goings were already swirling around like dust on a windy day.

  “No, I wasn’t looking for a job, although I do need one,” he acknowledged in a tone much lighter than his current mood. Doc was his landlord after all, and he needed to keep things cordial between them. “I went out there to meet my friend, Holly. She corresponded with me while I was in Afghanistan. It’s because of her that I’m here in West Falls.”

  Doc’s face lit up, and he let out a loud whoop of excitement. “Holly Lynch! She’s one of my favorite people.” He grinned at Dylan. “I imagine it was nice to finally meet her.”

  He hesitated, not sure how to answer the question. It hadn’t been a good feeling to be played for a fool by Holly and Cassidy. On the other hand, he couldn’t ignore all she’d meant to him over the past year. He couldn’t forget what it felt like to hold one of her letters in his hand and to know someone cared, other than his mom, whether he lived or died. Warm sentiments didn’t just evaporate in an instant, especially not the type of tight bond he and Holly had forged.

  “I didn’t know she was in a wheelchair.” The words tumbled out of his lips before he could rein them back in. He was still grappling with Holly’s lie, still unsure what to make of it all.

  Doc’s shoulders sagged, and he let out a deep sigh. “The poor thing lost the use of her legs before she even got a chance to spread her wings and fly.” He shook his head as if trying to rid himself of the memories. “After the accident it felt like an earthquake hit this town. It was hard on the roses—that’s what everyone calls her and her three friends—but Holly had it the worst. She had to learn to live life in a totally different way. No riding horses, no driving, no independence.” His slight frame was racked by a huge shudder. “She struggled at first, but with her family and an abundance of faith, she pulled herself up by her bootstraps. That young lady is an inspiration.” Doc winked at him and headed through the swinging doors into the kitchen.

  Doc’s heartfelt words about Holly nudged themselves straight into the center of his heart. He’d always known she was special. In a million years he could never convey all she’d done to keep his mind focused on living and making it back home rather than on the death and devastation he’d encountered on his last tour of duty. Her lively, warm letters had served as a lifeline, reminding him of everything he’d be coming back to in the States. And now he was discovering she’d had to climb mountains in her own life in order to overcome tragedy.

  If he was being honest with himself, the urge to stick around West Falls had everything to do with Holly and the bond they’d forged. The idea of Holly bravely rebuilding her life in the aftermath of the accident made him want to get to know her in a way he hadn’t been able to through their letters. Suddenly, staying in town had nothing to with practicality. He wanted to discover firsthand everything he possibly could about Holly Lynch.

  * * *

  The early-morning sun cast its stunning rays over the pastoral landscape. A calm feeling settled over him as he drove down the country lane. All he could see on the horizon was a cloudless sky the color of a robin’s egg. It was shaping up to being a beautiful October day in West Falls. If he lived to be a hundred, he would never tire of this perfect, sacred land. Thankfully, he was miles and miles away from IEDs, missiles and military strikes. For the first time in a long time he didn’t have to think about whether or not this day would be his last. He wouldn’t have to struggle to breathe the dank, fetid air. Ever since he’d left Afghanistan, his prayers had been full of mercy and protection for the soldiers he’d left behind. Husbands, mothers, brothers, friends—each and every one of them yearning to make it home to their loved ones.

  Without warning, Horseshoe Bend Ranch came into spectacular view. Once again he allowed himself to take it all in. The raw beauty of the land rendered him speechless. It went on for acres and acres, as far as the eye could see. Green, verdant, unspoiled land. Even though Oklahoma had some breathtaking vistas, he’d never laid eyes on anything so pristine and majestic. He couldn’t help but think that the Lord had left his fingerprints all over this spread. His chest swelled at the idea of one day ow
ning his own cattle ranch, a dream he’d nurtured since he was a small boy. What would it feel like, he wondered, to experience the sense of pride associated with building up the land into a thing of raw beauty and distinction?

  After talking to Doc yesterday, he’d decided to speak to the foreman about being hired on as a ranch hand. It was hard to ignore that he was sorely in need of a job. And Horseshoe Bend Ranch was hiring.

  The Lord will provide. His mother’s velvety voice rang in his ears, instantly bringing him back to his upbringing in Oklahoma. If he had a dollar for every time Mama had uttered that sentiment, he’d be a millionaire. More times than not, money and food had been scarce, and they’d lived on the edge of poverty. Finally, in an act of humility, his mother had reached out to his father for financial help, which he’d immediately given. Although things had quickly improved after that, Dylan was left with a bitter taste in his mouth about accepting money from the father who didn’t acknowledge him. It amounted to little more than charity. For so long he’d struggled with the notion of not being good enough. He’d been fighting to prove otherwise ever since.

  After entering the gates, he traveled down a gravel-filled road. When he reached the fork in the road, he turned to the left as Doc had instructed. He glanced over to his right, catching sight of the sprawling main house. Had it just been yesterday he’d been sipping sweet tea inside those walls? He wondered where Holly was at the moment and what she was doing. Even though Holly had given him the go-ahead to seek employment on her family’s ranch, he wondered if she might change her mind. Perhaps it would be awkward under the circumstances. Suddenly, he felt himself second-guessing his decision. Should he just turn the truck around and head back to town?

  “Too late to turn back now.” He glanced down at his bearded dragon, who was sitting in his carrier looking happy to be along for the ride. Leo enjoyed hanging out with him and he didn’t mind the swaying movement. Dylan could always tell when he was happy, as well as the times when he wasn’t. Being alone for long periods didn’t seem to suit him. Rather than leave Leo by himself, he’d decided to bring him on his trip out to the ranch. Lizards thrived in hot desertlike weather, so being stuck in a carrier on a warm October morning wasn’t a problem. He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand. Doc had scribbled down the name for him. Malachi Finley.