waiting for Evie. She knew nothing about the man except his name and that he could make her heart calm with a look and her nerves zing with a touch. But she could learn more. The resources of the Internet were a click away.
She eyed her dormant computer screen. She could do a search on him, but that seemed rude. An invasion of privacy. She nudged her mouse with one finger.
And sighed when her screen woke up to the Google search result screen. One of their residents, Beverly, would be going west this week and Dana had been searching low-cost housing in California the night before. It seemed to be a sign. If her screen had woken up to solitaire, she could have laughed it off and gone on with her business. But the Google screen beckoned. Tentatively she typed in his name. And hit SEARCH.
Dana stared at the screen as the results came up. Nothing caught her eye. She was being silly. But the arrows at the bottom of the page beckoned and she clicked to the next page, and the next. She was about to give up when a few bolded words caught her eye. And caught her breath. The words Kandahar and casualty jumped off the screen. She remembered the crisp little salute he’d given Betty that morning. He was military. Or had been. Her palm sweaty on the mouse, she clicked. And watched as her dial-up connection slowly loaded a page from what appeared to be a newsletter. Very slowly.
There was a light knock at her office door and Caroline poked her head in. “Did you eat while you were out?” Not waiting for an answer, she set a bowl of stew on the desk. “What are you looking for?”
Dana shot her a veiled look. “One laugh, one little chuckle, and you’re toast, Caro.”
Eyes wide, Caroline pulled up a chair. “I wouldn’t. It’s too important.”
“It’s from a Marine Corps base in California,” Dana murmured. Another minute that seemed like an hour passed while a photo loaded, and Dana found herself staring into those steady green eyes again, this time serious under the brim of a Marine cap. Her pulse once again scrambled. Her heart lodged somewhere in her throat. He was every bit as beautiful as she’d remembered. He’d been a Marine. He’d been wounded. But he was fine now. Very fine. Very much alive. Which is just the way she felt at the moment. Alive.
“That’s him?” Caroline asked.
Was it ever. “Yeah, that’s him.”
Caroline squeezed her shoulder. “Looks like your Ethan Buchanan is a war he-ro.”
Dana’s lips curved at Caroline’s twang as her eyes scanned the article. “He was part of a Marine Expeditionary Unit sent into Afghanistan after 9/11.”
“He was wounded. He’s okay now?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“So find out what he’s doing now.”
Dana refined her search, looking for security consultants, and blinked when her search yielded his Website. “Maynard and Buchanan. He does have a security business.”
“So he is who he says he is. You didn’t think he would be, did you?”
“Sitting there talking to him, I did. Later, I had my doubts.”
Caroline reached over and grabbed the mouse. “Let’s look at the staff.” She clicked and hummed in approval when a more recent picture of Ethan loaded, minus the Marine cap. “He’s a blond. You didn’t tell me that.”
Dana crossed her arms over her chest to keep her thudding heart contained. She remembered that golden hair at his open collar. “He’s a blond, okay?” He’s blond all over.
“And built. You didn’t tell me that, either.”
Dana fought the urge to fan herself. The picture didn’t do him justice. “Yes, he’s built.”
Caroline’s eyes twinkled. “And there’s a phone number for his office.”
“It’s Sunday. No one will be there. Besides what would I say to anybody who answered? Hi, my name is Dana and I want to know if your boss is a homicidal lunatic?”
“It does have a certain ring to it.” She turned back to the screen with a slight frown. “But you’re right. If you’re going to be careful,
She eyed her dormant computer screen. She could do a search on him, but that seemed rude. An invasion of privacy. She nudged her mouse with one finger.
And sighed when her screen woke up to the Google search result screen. One of their residents, Beverly, would be going west this week and Dana had been searching low-cost housing in California the night before. It seemed to be a sign. If her screen had woken up to solitaire, she could have laughed it off and gone on with her business. But the Google screen beckoned. Tentatively she typed in his name. And hit SEARCH.
Dana stared at the screen as the results came up. Nothing caught her eye. She was being silly. But the arrows at the bottom of the page beckoned and she clicked to the next page, and the next. She was about to give up when a few bolded words caught her eye. And caught her breath. The words Kandahar and casualty jumped off the screen. She remembered the crisp little salute he’d given Betty that morning. He was military. Or had been. Her palm sweaty on the mouse, she clicked. And watched as her dial-up connection slowly loaded a page from what appeared to be a newsletter. Very slowly.
There was a light knock at her office door and Caroline poked her head in. “Did you eat while you were out?” Not waiting for an answer, she set a bowl of stew on the desk. “What are you looking for?”
Dana shot her a veiled look. “One laugh, one little chuckle, and you’re toast, Caro.”
Eyes wide, Caroline pulled up a chair. “I wouldn’t. It’s too important.”
“It’s from a Marine Corps base in California,” Dana murmured. Another minute that seemed like an hour passed while a photo loaded, and Dana found herself staring into those steady green eyes again, this time serious under the brim of a Marine cap. Her pulse once again scrambled. Her heart lodged somewhere in her throat. He was every bit as beautiful as she’d remembered. He’d been a Marine. He’d been wounded. But he was fine now. Very fine. Very much alive. Which is just the way she felt at the moment. Alive.
“That’s him?” Caroline asked.
Was it ever. “Yeah, that’s him.”
Caroline squeezed her shoulder. “Looks like your Ethan Buchanan is a war he-ro.”
Dana’s lips curved at Caroline’s twang as her eyes scanned the article. “He was part of a Marine Expeditionary Unit sent into Afghanistan after 9/11.”
“He was wounded. He’s okay now?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“So find out what he’s doing now.”
Dana refined her search, looking for security consultants, and blinked when her search yielded his Website. “Maynard and Buchanan. He does have a security business.”
“So he is who he says he is. You didn’t think he would be, did you?”
“Sitting there talking to him, I did. Later, I had my doubts.”
Caroline reached over and grabbed the mouse. “Let’s look at the staff.” She clicked and hummed in approval when a more recent picture of Ethan loaded, minus the Marine cap. “He’s a blond. You didn’t tell me that.”
Dana crossed her arms over her chest to keep her thudding heart contained. She remembered that golden hair at his open collar. “He’s a blond, okay?” He’s blond all over.
“And built. You didn’t tell me that, either.”
Dana fought the urge to fan herself. The picture didn’t do him justice. “Yes, he’s built.”
Caroline’s eyes twinkled. “And there’s a phone number for his office.”
“It’s Sunday. No one will be there. Besides what would I say to anybody who answered? Hi, my name is Dana and I want to know if your boss is a homicidal lunatic?”
“It does have a certain ring to it.” She turned back to the screen with a slight frown. “But you’re right. If you’re going to be careful,
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