Chapter One
Scott Carnes was sick and tired of being a hero. Sick and tired of being put on display like a fucking show pony, with a chest full of medals to compensate for his missing left eye.
He shifted in his chair, listening uncomfortably to a list of his accomplishments as a Pararescueman in Afghanistan. Tuning out the announcer’s voice, he looked over the fundraiser’s dinner crowd. All were opulently dressed, fitting the elegant setting of the Oklahoma Governor’s mansion. At least he was home again, or almost home.
“…Afghanistan, where he was awarded the Airman’s Medal, Bronze Star, and two Purple Hearts. Ladies and gentlemen, our honoured guest, Senior Airman Scott Carnes.” The emcee, a burly lumberjack of a man shoehorned into an ill-fitting tuxedo, waved Scott to the podium.
He stood, experiencing the same wash of vertigo he’d had for the past few days, since he’d been allowed to walk out of San Antonio’s Wilford Hall Medical Centre under his own steam. They said it would go away as his equilibrium adjusted to the loss of sight, but it didn’t make life any easier in the meantime.
An hour later, he choked down the last of his gourmet coffee and frou-frou cheesecake and fled for the door.
Home. All he wanted was to make it home to Guthrie in time for his birthday tomorrow, lonely though it might be.
* * * *
Cassidy Thompson swiped a damp rag over the spotless linoleum counter and stared out of the big picture windows into the ominously still Oklahoma night. The comforting, rich smell of coffee and pastry swirled in the air around her, but even that couldn’t settle her jangling nerves.
Something was going down… She could feel it, and so could her customers, if their lack of attendance was any indication. She was glad she’d let her one full-time employee, Erica, take some extra time off. There wasn’t enough business to justify her pay tonight.
Hell, it was late August and the weather just wasn’t right for this time of year.
On a normal Tuesday night, Cassidy’s Cuppa Café would have been hopping with regulars and tourists who’d wandered out of the Main Street district, even this close to her nine o’clock closing time. Not so tonight. The locals knew better than to stray far from home during conditions like this, and the visitors seemed to be sticking close to their hotel rooms.
The bell above the door chimed, pulling Cass’ attention away from the window to her brave-the-elements customer.
For a brief moment, she allowed herself to examine the young man standing in profile to her. With strong, regular features, he looked like any other twenty-something Oklahoma college student. Probably ROTC, she thought, noting the strawberry-blond hair cut high and tight and the well-toned build only slightly camouflaged by faded jeans and an Oklahoma State University T-shirt.
Ah, if only I were ten years younger…
She took a closer look… Yeah, he had an athletic, yummy body, but there was something about the way he carried himself—almost as if he were cradling an injury—that was in direct contrast to the air of invincibility he projected. It was strange, because she’d seen the same look in the mirror more times than she could count over the years.
Cassidy liked to think she could tell a lot about people before they even opened their mouths. In this case, she was pretty sure she’d hit the nail on the head… This boy had suffered, was probably still suffering, as a matter of fact, but wouldn’t let a damned soul know about it.
Then he turned and the breath clogged in her lungs. One sky-blue eye assessed her in a decidedly tactical manner. The other was concealed behind a black eye patch that contrasted starkly against his pale skin. While she knew he could have lost the eye as a child, in a farming incident or car accident, something made her think it had been recent, very recent…and most likely ugly.
“What can I get for you?” Cassidy tossed
Scott Carnes was sick and tired of being a hero. Sick and tired of being put on display like a fucking show pony, with a chest full of medals to compensate for his missing left eye.
He shifted in his chair, listening uncomfortably to a list of his accomplishments as a Pararescueman in Afghanistan. Tuning out the announcer’s voice, he looked over the fundraiser’s dinner crowd. All were opulently dressed, fitting the elegant setting of the Oklahoma Governor’s mansion. At least he was home again, or almost home.
“…Afghanistan, where he was awarded the Airman’s Medal, Bronze Star, and two Purple Hearts. Ladies and gentlemen, our honoured guest, Senior Airman Scott Carnes.” The emcee, a burly lumberjack of a man shoehorned into an ill-fitting tuxedo, waved Scott to the podium.
He stood, experiencing the same wash of vertigo he’d had for the past few days, since he’d been allowed to walk out of San Antonio’s Wilford Hall Medical Centre under his own steam. They said it would go away as his equilibrium adjusted to the loss of sight, but it didn’t make life any easier in the meantime.
An hour later, he choked down the last of his gourmet coffee and frou-frou cheesecake and fled for the door.
Home. All he wanted was to make it home to Guthrie in time for his birthday tomorrow, lonely though it might be.
* * * *
Cassidy Thompson swiped a damp rag over the spotless linoleum counter and stared out of the big picture windows into the ominously still Oklahoma night. The comforting, rich smell of coffee and pastry swirled in the air around her, but even that couldn’t settle her jangling nerves.
Something was going down… She could feel it, and so could her customers, if their lack of attendance was any indication. She was glad she’d let her one full-time employee, Erica, take some extra time off. There wasn’t enough business to justify her pay tonight.
Hell, it was late August and the weather just wasn’t right for this time of year.
On a normal Tuesday night, Cassidy’s Cuppa Café would have been hopping with regulars and tourists who’d wandered out of the Main Street district, even this close to her nine o’clock closing time. Not so tonight. The locals knew better than to stray far from home during conditions like this, and the visitors seemed to be sticking close to their hotel rooms.
The bell above the door chimed, pulling Cass’ attention away from the window to her brave-the-elements customer.
For a brief moment, she allowed herself to examine the young man standing in profile to her. With strong, regular features, he looked like any other twenty-something Oklahoma college student. Probably ROTC, she thought, noting the strawberry-blond hair cut high and tight and the well-toned build only slightly camouflaged by faded jeans and an Oklahoma State University T-shirt.
Ah, if only I were ten years younger…
She took a closer look… Yeah, he had an athletic, yummy body, but there was something about the way he carried himself—almost as if he were cradling an injury—that was in direct contrast to the air of invincibility he projected. It was strange, because she’d seen the same look in the mirror more times than she could count over the years.
Cassidy liked to think she could tell a lot about people before they even opened their mouths. In this case, she was pretty sure she’d hit the nail on the head… This boy had suffered, was probably still suffering, as a matter of fact, but wouldn’t let a damned soul know about it.
Then he turned and the breath clogged in her lungs. One sky-blue eye assessed her in a decidedly tactical manner. The other was concealed behind a black eye patch that contrasted starkly against his pale skin. While she knew he could have lost the eye as a child, in a farming incident or car accident, something made her think it had been recent, very recent…and most likely ugly.
“What can I get for you?” Cassidy tossed
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