Giving It All

Home is where his heart can heal.

Former Navy SEAL Grant Anderson failed to see the IED that took his lower leg and couldn’t fix the cracks that ended his marriage. Embarrassment kept him from returning home to Dale, Georgia, after his discharge. But with his father ill, his family needs him.

One of the first friendly faces he encounters is Ellie Hall. The gawky little girl next door now has curves that shouldn’t make his mouth water. She deserves a hero, not a broken man.

Ellie can’t remember a time when she didn’t have a crush on Grant. Now if she could only get it through Grant’s thick skull that she doesn’t need to fear him.

As they work together to straighten out his family business, holiday fireworks aren’t the only thing making Greg sweat. But by the time they uncover why the figures aren’t adding up, Greg must rely on pure instinct to keep Ellie safe from danger—and pray that this time, he won’t fail.

Warning: Contains a wounded warrior who’s his own worst critic, and a determined heroine who’ll take the whole package as is. While not a series, this story takes place in the same fictional world as
Son of a Preacher Man
.

Giving It All

Arianna Hart

Dedication

This book is for my mom, who encourages me, inspires me and feeds me. She is the absolute best and hardest example to follow. Whenever I feel overwhelmed or out of my depth, she picks me up and helps me out. Mother, grandmother, daughter, sister, aunt, wife, friend and nurse, she excels in every role. Someday, I hope to be half the mother she is. Thanks, Mom, for everything. I love you.

Also, there aren’t words to describe how much my husband and three daughters mean to me. They add love and laughter to my life and make it worth living. Thanks for putting up with me when the book isn’t going well and I’m cranky, and also for when the book is going great and I don’t want to cook, clean or drive you where you need to be. I love all of you to the moon and back.

While doing the research for this book, I spent a lot of time on the Wounded Warriors Project website (
www.woundedwarriorsproject.org
). The stories there are both heartbreaking and heartwarming. Take a few minutes to check it out and you’ll be inspired, I guarantee it. I was so moved by this site, I’m donating a portion of my royalties to this program. To all who have served or are serving our country, my heartfelt thanks. We owe you more than words can say.

Prologue

Ten years ago, Dale, Georgia

“How much longer ’til your shift ends? I’m melting out here,” asked Melodious Sunshine, otherwise known as Mel to those who didn’t want to lose their front teeth.

“You wouldn’t be so hot if you didn’t insist on wearing all black and combat boots in August,” answered Ellie as she wiped down the counter of the pickup window at the Tasty Treat ice-cream stand.

“What can I say? I’m a slave to fashion.” She adjusted the safety pins stacked up on the straps of her skull tank top and picked at one of the artfully placed tears in her fishnet stockings. “So when does the quitting bell ring at Tara?”

“I have another half hour. And it’s usually not so bad.”

Ellie tried to wash the sticky ice cream off her arms. There was an event at the town gazebo and everyone in Dale had come to the Tasty Treat afterward to celebrate. She’d scooped more ice cream in the last two hours than she had in her entire sixteen years of life. Her arms ached and her feet felt like two concrete blocks squishing around in wet sneakers from when she’d spilled the mop bucket earlier.

The last thing she wanted to do was go to some horror-movie marathon in Canton with Mel tonight, but she’d promised her friend and Mel wasn’t about to let her get out of it.

“I’m sure it’s just utopia, scooping up ice cream for hicks. Sounds like heaven.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a hick too. And it’s not like Canton is a booming metropolis, you know.”

Ellie ducked under the cut through that led out of the stand and bumped her head on the shelf. A peel of feminine laughter came from the picnic tables and made her face burn.

“Just ignore the pom-pom squad,” Mel said, shooting a glare over her shoulder. “I’m sure none of them have ever made a mistake before.”

“I’m fine. Don’t start anything, please.”

“I just hate that coven of lip-glossed bleach blondes. It’s like they think they run the school because they have long legs and D cups.”

“It was even worse before they closed our high school down and shipped us all to Canton Regional. At least now the classes are bigger, so it’s easier to avoid them.”

“Ick. Being stuck with just them all day must have been like its own special room in Hell.” Mel shuddered, sending the safety pins and chains on her skirt tinkling.

“Shh, Chastity is coming over.” Ellie busied herself filling the napkin dispensers.

Chastity Woodward was not only the prettiest, most popular girl at Canton Regional High School, she was also one of the darling daughters of Dale. Her father was the chairman of the town council and her mother was the vice president of the Garden Club. She was a year older than Ellie but looked closer to twenty-five than seventeen.

She was also dating Ellie’s neighbor and secret crush, Grant Anderson. The recent graduate of Canton Regional and captain of the swim team barely knew Ellie was alive, which was just fine with her. Every time she got within ten feet of him, it was like her stringy arms and legs moved without her brain’s permission and she either knocked into something or tripped over her own two feet.

“Hey, Bean,” Chastity said as she sauntered up to where Ellie was working. “Can I have a cup of water?”

“Her name is Ellie, not Bean, or String Bean or Bean Pole, and as you can see, she’s busy. Ask Joey, I’m sure he’d be thrilled to get you whatever you want.” Mel nodded toward the pimple-faced boy who was openly ogling Chastity from behind the counter.

“No one is talking to you, freak. I can’t believe they let you out of the house dressed like that. What does your momma think of that outfit?”

“I’m sure she’s spinning in her grave,” Mel shot back.

“Come on over to the window, Chastity, I’ll get your water.” Ellie hurried back to the cut through, making sure she was all the way through before standing so she didn’t bang her head again.

Chastity pouted a bit as she checked her makeup in the reflection of the napkin dispenser. “I didn’t know her momma was dead. No wonder she looks like a creature of the night.”

“She’s expressing her individuality. Here you go.”

“Thanks.” She took a tiny sip of water. “You’re taking the AP Calculus course, right?”

“Yes,” Ellie answered warily. When the Dale High School kids had been moved to the regional school in Canton, they’d all had to take placement tests. Ellie’s math scores were off the charts so she’d been moved onto an accelerated track, something that never would have happened at the tiny Dale High School.

“So am I. Have you done the summer assignments yet?”

“Not all of them.”

“Do you want to work on them together sometime?”

“Sure.”

“Great. I’ll call you.” She tossed her barely touched cup of water in the trash can and sauntered back to her friends.

“What was that all about?” Mel asked, obviously overhearing the conversation. “Don’t tell me there’s a brain in that bubble head, I won’t believe you.”

“Chastity is smart. She just doesn’t like everyone to know it.”

“Afraid she’ll get kicked off the cheerleading squad for too much intelligence?”

“Stop it,” Ellie said, although she couldn’t hold back a snicker. “She isn’t a bad person, just a bit superficial.”

“Right. That’s why she had to pretend to ask for a cup of water so she could ask you for help with homework instead of asking in front of her friends.”

“I don’t care. And if it doesn’t bother me, it shouldn’t bother you.”

“Whatever.”

Ellie searched for a change of subject. “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep over tonight? I hate the thought of you making the hour drive back to Canton so late.”

“I’m sure. No offense, but staying at your grandmother’s house with all those saint statues everywhere gives me the willies. I always feel like they’re watching me. Why don’t you just sleep over my house?”

“I can’t. My grandmother—” Before Ellie could finish, a familiar, slightly battered red truck pulled into the parking lot. A tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed Viking bounded out of the still-rocking vehicle and ran to where Chastity sat on the picnic table.

“I got in!” Grant Anderson waved a letter in the air. “I’m going to Navy Special Warfare prep school! I’m going to BUD/S,” he shouted.

Chastity let out a whoop and leapt into his arms where he spun her in a circle before planting a loud, smacking kiss on her.

“Did y’all hear that? My baby’s gonna be a SEAL,” Chastity yelled in her best cheerleader voice.

All the townspeople who had been sitting at the tables gathered around Grant, slapping him on the back and shaking his hand. Ellie yearned to be one of the girls who ran up and hugged him, but she held back. With her luck, she’d trip and knock him over and he’d smash his head against a table and not be able to go into the Navy at all.

“What’s the big deal? He got accepted into SEAL training, it doesn’t mean he’s going to make it. Like, more than half of the candidates wash out before the end of the training. I watched
G.I. Jane
, I know,” Mel scoffed.

“Grant won’t wash out. He’s strong and smart.” Her heart burst with pride. She knew, absolutely knew, Grant would make it.

The crowd around him started to break up and Ellie got a good look at him, standing there so straight and tall, like he’d already begun basic training. His arm was slung around Chastity’s shoulder and she had both arms wrapped around his torso. They were the perfect couple, both blonde haired and gorgeous. Her petite frame fit perfectly against his muscular one.

Even in her wildest imaginings, Ellie couldn’t imagine her own lanky body fitting nearly as well. A hush fell over the picnic area and she strained to hear what was happening. Grant lifted Chastity’s left hand and slipped a ring on her finger. She let out another whoop and jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him in front of God and everyone.

“Good Lord, don’t tell me he just proposed to her? She has another year of high school left,” Mel said.

“I bet it’s a promise ring. I overheard his mother talking to my grandmother about it when she came over to return a dish.”

“What a joke. Does he think because he buys her a cheap ring she isn’t going to cheat on him while he’s away?”

“I think it’s the most romantic thing in the world. And Chastity won’t cheat on him.” Who else could compare to Grant? Not only was he the best-looking guy in Dale, he was also smart and kind and going places. Once he left for the Navy, he’d probably never come back to Dale except to visit his folks. Chastity would be a fool to screw that up.

Chapter One

Present day, Dale, Georgia

Grant was coming home. Ellie smiled to herself as she fumbled open the door to her apartment over the Andersons’ garage. Putting the grocery sacks on the tiny kitchen table, she looked out the window above the sink. The one that faced the back of the Andersons’ house. And Grant’s bedroom.

He’d be back in Dale, living a mere hundred feet from her.

She did a happy little butt wiggle and bumped the table with her hip.

“Great, he’s not even back yet and already you’re reverting. Pull yourself together, Elyana.” Ellie laughed and started to unload her groceries. Peter was coming over for dinner tonight and she couldn’t wait to tell him the news.

Mrs. Anderson had seemed happy, relieved and anxious all at once as she’d told Ellie about Grant’s homecoming. He was flying in from California Thursday night on the red-eye and she’d pick him up at the airport Friday morning. When she’d asked if Ellie could sit with Mr. Anderson while she made the two-and-half-hour trip to Atlanta, Ellie had assured her it would be her pleasure.

Ever since Jenny, Grant’s younger sister, had gone back to college, Ellie had tried to help out whenever her schedule would permit. She did most of her work as an accountant from home, so she was happy to stay at the Andersons’ house when Mrs. Anderson had to do errands in town. The poor woman was running herself ragged taking care of her husband, the house and their auto parts business.

It was good Grant was coming home to take some of the pressure off her. Just his presence in the house would be good for Mrs. Anderson. Even if he couldn’t do everything he could before he was injured in Afghanistan, he could still sit with Mr. Anderson so she could visit with her friends and have a little more free time.

Ellie’s heart physically ached when she thought about Grant’s injury. It had been almost three years since they’d gotten the news that a member of his team had stepped on an IED and Grant had been seriously injured. The Andersons had flown to Germany to be with him. The town had held candlelight vigils at the church and Ellie had said novena after novena praying for his recovery.

When Mrs. Anderson had returned to Dale after traveling from Germany with Grant, she’d looked years older. The stress had left grooves in her face and she’d lost at least fifteen pounds. She’d told everyone that Grant had lost his left leg below the knee and would need a prosthetic leg. His left arm and the left side of his face would be scarred, but they wouldn’t know how badly until the skin grafts healed completely.

She’d said he would be in physical therapy for a long time and was choosing to stay in California even though he’d been medically discharged. She’d tried to say it was better that way because all his doctors and therapists were there, but Ellie knew it had darn near killed her that he wouldn’t come home where she could take care of him herself.

But he was coming home now.

She hummed along with the radio as she chopped onions for dinner. Her mind conjured daydreams of Grant seeing her and his eyes popping out of his head at how different she looked as an adult. The image was so ridiculous she laughed out loud. Even when she’d lived right next door, Grant had hardly noticed her. She doubted he’d even remember the scrawny kid who’d been all knobby knees and pointy elbows.

She’d hit 5’10” by the time she was fifteen, and it wasn’t until she was out of high school that she’d actually grown comfortable in her body. Taking yoga classes had helped control the clumsiness and given her a boost of self-confidence. She was still stick skinny with no hips or breasts to speak of, but she’d learned to enjoy her height. A better hair cut had helped give volume to her lanky, brown locks and her face no longer looked so long and angular either. Heck, with makeup highlighting her large hazel eyes and the right bra, she was actually somewhat attractive.

Not that she had delusions of a future relationship with Grant, but it sure would be nice to be able to glance out her kitchen window and see him every day. Just because she couldn’t afford the prime rib didn’t mean she couldn’t look at the menu.

She was still laughing to herself when Peter knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she called, having seen his Jetta drive up.

“What smells so good? And does it go with white wine? I bought a beautiful bottle of Pinot at a local vineyard.”

“I’ve only just started sautéing the onions and garlic, but we’re having chicken a la Elyana, so the Pinot will go great. When did you go to a vineyard?” she asked as she handed him a bottle opener.

At home in her kitchen, he got two wine glasses out of a cabinet before opening the wine. “Last night. I was on a blind date there.”

“Really? How’d it go?”

“The wine wasn’t the only thing that was dry.”

“That bad?” Taking a small sip, she nodded in appreciation and added a splash to the oil, onions and garlic sizzling in the pan.

“Worse. He was pompous and annoying with no sense of humor. It’s hard enough being a gay man in Georgia, you should at least be able to laugh about it.”

“This isn’t the 1950s. There are plenty of openly gay men in Georgia.”

“In the city maybe. Out here in the sticks, not so much.”

“Maybe you should move closer to the city.”

“What, and give up my exciting career in the newspaper industry?”

“The
Dale Weekly
isn’t exactly
The Washington Post
. You’re not just the only reporter, you’re the editor and publisher. I’m sure you’d make more money working for a bigger newspaper.”

“But then I’d have an editor breathing down my neck and I wouldn’t be able to report on the ever-so-exciting news of Pansy Campbell getting caught in
flagrante delicto
with Branson Taylor behind the old high school.”

“Again? Doesn’t that woman have a house?”

“I bet she’s an exhibitionist.”

“Probably. I think you just don’t want anyone saying you can’t write your scathing editorials.”

“There’s that too.” He relaxed on a bar stool and took a sip of his wine. “I actually like it here in Dale. I didn’t think I would when my uncle left me the paper, but it’s a comfortable fit, except for the rampant heterosexuality.”

“It’s also a great place to hide if you don’t want to face your past,” she said, flipping over the browning chicken breasts.

“Let’s not throw stones, my little sparrow. At least I went out in the world and have something to hide from.”

“Touché.” Ellie’s grandmother’s health had deteriorated before Ellie had graduated high school. She’d balanced commuting to college and taking care of her grandmother until she’d earned her master’s degree. It was a choice she’d never regret, even if she did sometimes wish she could have accepted one of the scholarships to an out-of-state college.

“Speaking of hiding, are you still up for going to the Press Club dinner on Friday night?”

“Absolutely. I never pass up a chance to dress up and mingle with the fourth estate. There is an open bar, right?”

“Of course. Pressmen never pay for their own booze if they can avoid it. What were you planning on wearing?”

“Why? Are you going to buy me a corsage?”

“Very funny. No, but I want to coordinate.”

“Hold on, I’ll show you.” She turned the burner down to simmer and washed her hands before heading to her bedroom. A shiver of delight zipped through her as she retrieved the dress Mel had convinced her to buy on her last trip to Atlanta. Carefully removing it from the plastic, she carried it out to show Peter.

“Basic black is always a good choice, but isn’t it a little bland?” he asked, frowning at the high-necked, sleeveless silk sheath.

“Not when it’s on. The slit in the leg goes up practically to my hip, and when I wear a pushup bra, I can fake having a figure. The high neck keeps me from looking like a giraffe, and the silk clings like a second skin. And look at the way it shimmers in the light.” She used her arm to shift the fabric so the deep blue shimmered under the black like an oil spill.

“Nice. You should wear the chandelier earrings I got you for Christmas.”

“I was planning on it. I’m not sure about hair though. I’m figuring up, but with all my layers, it’s hard to keep them confined.”

“Low bun, and use the hair wax I gave you for the layers around your face. You don’t want wispy with a dress like that, you want sharp. How about shoes? Please tell me you got a pair of stilettos.”

Ellie frowned as she carefully put the plastic back over the dress. She was 5’10” in bare feet. Peter was 5’8” if he stretched. She loved heels, but even little kitten heels put her at six feet tall. “Mel talked me into this awesome pair of strappy black stilettos, but I’ll look like an Amazon next to you.”

“Sweetie, this isn’t really a date, and we’re not in the eighth grade. I don’t care if you’re a foot taller than me. Wear the heels, they’ll make your legs look a mile long and give your butt a lift. You’ll have all the men drooling, and they’ll be green with envy that you’re with me.”

“And the ones who suspect you are gay but haven’t had the guts to ask will be even more confused.”

“Exactly. Oh, this is going to be so much fun. I’ll pick you up at five. That will get us into Atlanta in time to be fashionably late to the cocktail hour, but not so late as to miss the hot
hors-d’oeuvre
.”

“Oh, that reminds me. Did you hear who’s coming back to Dale?” Ellie asked with a smirk as she put the dress away. It wasn’t easy to scoop Peter, he practically had supernatural powers when it came to gossip.

“I can’t imagine, but I can see you’re fit to bursting to tell me.” He set the table as she fluffed the rice.

“Grant Anderson.”

“Sue and Ed’s son, the war hero?”

“Yes,” she said with a little exasperation at his lack of response. “Grant hasn’t been home except for the occasional visit in ten years. The last time he was here was before he got injured, over five years ago.”

“It’s good he’s here to help Sue out, but I don’t understand your level of excitement. I don’t recall you getting this giddy when Nadya Sarov came back to Dale.”

“I barely knew Nadya. She was a senior when I was a freshman. I grew up next door to Grant.”

“Wait, wait, it’s all coming back to me. Is this the Grant of your teenage fantasies?”

“I wouldn’t call them fantasies. I was too young to fantasize. More like a childhood crush.”

“I see. And lucky you, he’ll be living right across the driveway. Do you plan on sneaking out and climbing into his bed? Or maybe he can climb the oak tree by your window and slip into your bedroom?”

“He lost his leg below the knee in Afghanistan. I doubt he’s going to be climbing any trees. And he barely knew I was alive before, I doubt he’s going to suddenly fall head over heels for me now. It’s just—” She waved her hands in front of her, looking for the words to describe the feelings churning inside of her. “He was such a huge part of my childhood, having him back in Dale feels, I don’t know, right. Better. Like a piece of my life is back where it belongs. It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not, it’s nostalgic. But just like anything else from your past, he’s going to be different now too.” Peter’s face grew serious and he concentrated on dishing out the salad for a moment. “He was a SEAL, right?”

“Yup. Graduated at the top of his class.”

“He’s seen things, done things that will have changed him. He’s not going to be the same boy you remember.”

“I know that.”

“I’m not sure you do. War hardens a person. I was in Serra Leone for six months, and I still have nightmares about what I saw there. He was on the teams for years. He’d have to have built up a shell just to survive.”

“Peter, I’m not stupid. I don’t expect him to come back and be the same boy who used to pop wheelies on his bicycle in the driveway. I know he was hurt, and I’m sure he’s damaged in ways I’ll never understand, but he’s alive. That’s what matters to me. I don’t expect to date him.”

“You’re just happy to admire him from afar?”

“You make it sound so corny.”

“That’s because it is. Look, if you like this guy as he is now, not the memory of how he was, I say go for it. You’re an attractive woman and you most certainly need to get laid. Why not make a play for him?”

“Self-esteem? A severe dislike of awkward situations? Do you forget that I live practically in his backyard? If I threw myself at him and he didn’t make the catch, I’d have to face him every single day. No thank you.”

“Coward.”

“I prefer cautious. And really, I think I’d rather be his friend. He’s coming back to his hometown, not as the conquering war hero, but as an injured, divorced man. I think he’s going to need a friend a lot more than a groupie.”

“Friends with benefits?” Peter asked slyly.

“No, you dope.” Ellie laughed out loud.

“Then how are you ever going to get laid?”

“Maybe Friday night, one of your press buddies will try to steal me away from you, and I’ll let him.”

“Don’t you dare. Reporters make terrible boyfriends. I should know.”