Homecoming Hero (7 page)

A smart soldier knew when to walk away, or at least when to build a different plan of attack. “How many mission trips have you gone on?”

Making a sound of dismay in her throat, she tried to maneuver around him.

He blocked her retreat. “How many?”

She lowered her gaze. “One.”

“That's it?”

“It was enough,” she said to his feet. “It made me hungry to do more.”

Which was admirable, in its own way. Yet the question still remained. Why the leap from a short mission trip to a permanent posting in the Middle East?

“Where did you go on your
one
trip?”

“Jamaica.” She slowly raised her head. “For two and a half weeks. And I'm heading to Haiti in a few weeks. I'll be there for seven days.”

Wasn't that just
great.
The woman was basing a life-altering decision on practically zero field experience. The Army would never send a soldier overseas with such a gross lack of training.

“A Caribbean island is nothing like the Middle East.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

Moving quicker this time, she twisted around him and began retracing her steps back to the car.

Wolf followed hard on her heels. “Hailey—”

“Don't.” She thrust her palm in the air between them. “I have the money, the time, the desire. It's not like I'm leaving anyone behind. Now that Clay is gone, I don't have…
anyone.
”

The catch in her voice broke his heart. “You have your friends and your church.” But even as the words slipped out of his mouth, Wolf knew how empty they sounded. Hadn't he hated hearing them all his life?

His frustration was making him careless. Why couldn't the stubborn woman see she was making a mistake?

“Hailey, I admire your passion.” At her skeptical glare he added, “I do. But you won't be heading into a mission field that's been well traveled. There are bad men over there with guns, men who hate women like you.”

“What do you mean women like me?”

“
Christian
women.”

“That doesn't mean I shouldn't go.” Her feet moved faster, kicking up large sprays of sand as she went. “Someone has to reach the desperate people living in that region. Why not me?”

He could give her a thousand reasons. He focused only on the main two. “Because you don't have the training or the experience.”

“I'm getting both.” She pumped her legs faster. “Step one was Jamaica. Step two is Haiti. Step three…well, God will reveal that to me in time.”

Wolf easily kept up with her, even though his frustration made his steps jerky. “Hailey—”

“Stop worrying about me. When the door finally opens to the Middle East I'll be ready.”

“You don't have an assignment yet?”

“No.”

Well, that was new information. Maybe, just maybe, Wolf was going about this all wrong. From her own admission, Hailey wasn't scheduled to leave for the Middle East anytime soon. And she wasn't leaving for Haiti for several weeks. That gave him time to show her just how unprepared she was.

Ideas came fast now. But at the moment, he didn't bother sorting through them. He had a better idea. “Okay, Hailey, I see I'm not going to change your mind.” Not tonight, anyway. “Let's call a truce.”

She stopped dead in her tracks. “You're giving up?”

“Yeah, I am.” He backtracked to her side. “For now.”

Seconds of intense staring passed between them. Wolf experienced an uncomfortable pounding in his chest, the one that came every time he looked straight into those gorgeous, heart-stopping green eyes.

“Something tells me you aren't completely giving up on your quest,” she said at last.

“A temporary truce is still a truce,” he pointed out.

“In other words, I won't be getting rid of you anytime soon.”

“That about sums it up.”

Her gaze sparkled with a contradictory mix of resignation and…pleasure? Wasn't that interesting?

“Cheer up, sweetheart.” Feeling generous, Wolf gave her the big, loopy grin that was guaranteed to make her eyes soften. “All that extra time together could turn out to be a win-win for us both.”

W
ednesday dawned bright and cool. It was another beautiful winter day in southern Georgia. Fort Stewart practically sparkled with sunshine and birdsong.

Far from being deceived by the idyllic scene, Wolf entered his office with a cynical heart. His soldiers weren't adjusting to life in the States as well as he'd hoped. Of course, they'd only been home a week. Maybe they just needed time. And lots of attention from their commanding officer.

Knowing the importance of what lay ahead of him, Wolf tried to keep his mind on work and
not
on Hailey. Not so easy, especially since he'd made a point of staying away from her these last five days.

There was no doubt the woman was unprepared for the hazards of missionary work. But she had to come to that conclusion on her own. With a large nudge from Wolf, of course. The series of survival classes were the perfect vehicle to steer her in the right direction.

In the meantime, Wolf needed to focus on the job the Army paid him to do. First order of business, he needed to decide what to do about the fight he'd just broken up at the PX.

He flexed both his hands in frustration. His unit was already three days into reintegration training, yet the discussions and accompanying videos designed to help soldiers adjust to life back home weren't taking.

Today's fight was not the first Wolf had come across this week. He'd also dealt with a handful of domestic disputes, never a favorite. And some of his soldiers were already showing signs of alcohol abuse. Despite their vehement denials.

Wolf leaned back in his chair and covered his eyes with his hand. There were too many soldiers with too many problems for one man to address, especially a man suffering with his own readjustment issues.

If he was going to have any chance of helping his soldiers, he had to help himself first.

Decision made, he bolted from his chair and headed out of the office without speaking to his NCO.

He'd put off this errand long enough.

Ten minutes later, Wolf sat on the bottom row of bleachers at Cottrell Field and stared at the line of trees across the empty parade grounds. This was the place where soldiers in the Third Infantry Division commemorated the best and worst of Army life.

Alone with his thoughts and far too many emotions churning in his gut, Wolf began to regret his decision to come here today. Terrible memories poked at him.

Refusing to buckle, he rested his forearms on his knees and kept his gaze locked on the long row of evergreens.

His mood threatened to turn dark and turbulent, so he forced his mind back to a happier time, back to the welcome-home ceremony he'd participated in after his first tour of duty. If he closed his eyes he could still hear the music, still feel the energy and sheer joy of being
home at last. He'd led his platoon through the tunnel of trees with a large grin on his face. The explosion of cheers from his fellow soldiers' families and friends had made him feel light-headed.

In that one moment, he'd mattered, perhaps for the first time in his life. He was no longer a mistake, as his father had always claimed, no longer the boy unworthy of love, whose own mother had abandoned him at the age of ten. As an officer in the United States Army, Wolf had shed his past and found his future. His life course had been set.

Until the day Clay and the others had died. On his watch.

Struggling to absorb the reality of his failure, Wolf kept his eyes shut and slowed his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. His skin had turned ice-cold, as though there'd been a sudden change in temperature. At least his hands remained steady. He was still in control.

Snapping his eyes open, he stood.

It was time to get this over with.

With slow, determined steps he circled the perimeter of the parade grounds. His boots felt heavier than usual, but he kept moving forward, all the way to the line of trees dedicated to the fallen men and women of the Third ID.

A burst of angry energy slammed into Wolf like a punch. But he didn't stop moving. He tracked slowly down the row, reading each name scrolled on the accompanying plaques.

His steps never faltered until he approached the four shortest trees, the ones representing
his
men. His personal loss.

Images of the bombing besieged him. Flying metal. Stinging flames. His fellow soldiers' screams.

Wolf shuddered. But his eyes remained dry. He was still in control.

Logic told him he wasn't the only one who had missed the signs of the IED. But he'd been the Truck Commander. His sole job had been to hunt for danger.

Fighting back a wave of guilt, he dropped his gaze to the first plaque and read the name aloud. “Staff Sergeant Ronald Matthews.”

He moved to the next tree. “Specialist Demitri Ross.”

And the next. “Private First Class Kevin Ingram.”

At last, he drew alongside the final plaque in the row. “First Lieutenant—” his voice hitched “—Clay O'Brien.”

Clay's last words rolled through his mind.
You gotta keep Hailey out of the Sandpit….

Wolf repeated his response. “I won't let you down.”

But what if he did? What if he failed his friend?

No. Unacceptable. Hailey's life depended on Wolf winning their current stalemate.

Desperation made his heartbeat quicken. And then he did something he thought he'd never do again. He lifted up a desperate prayer to God.
Lord, help me stop Hailey from going to the Middle East. Give me the tools and the knowledge to keep her out of harm's way.

He opened his eyes and studied Clay's tree with an unblinking stare. “Your sister, she's not what I expected…. I don't know…I can't…” His eyes filled with tears.

No.
He couldn't do this. Not now. Not today. His control was slipping. He had to get out of here before it vanished completely.

He headed to his car with ground-eating strides.

The sun's ruthless midday rays nearly blinded him,
but not completely, not enough to shield the familiar figure waiting for him at the edge of the field.

“You have a bad habit of turning up at the worst possible moments,” Wolf growled through clenched teeth.

“What can I say?” J.T. rolled his shoulders. “It's what I do best.”

All kinds of responses came to mind, but Wolf was too drained to verbally spar with the man. “What do you want this time?”

J.T. cocked his head toward the line of trees behind Wolf. “You find Clay's tree?”

“Yeah.” Wolf made a sound deep in his throat, half threat, half plea.

“Want to talk about it? It might help to share your burden with someone who's been where you are.”

The guy was certainly persistent. “You'll have to excuse me.” Wolf pushed past him. “I have to get back to work.”

J.T. joined him step for step. “Let me buy you lunch first. Off post. There's a restaurant in Hinesville that serves the best Cuban sandwiches north of Miami.”

Wolf increased his pace. “Can't. I have to spend the afternoon scaling a mountain of paperwork.”

“One hour won't make a difference.”

Wolf hesitated. For a fraction of a second.

J.T. took advantage. “Look, soldier, no agenda here. I just want to go over last-minute details for your class tonight.”

Right.
Wolf knew what J.T. was doing. The guy was building a relationship with him, instilling trust before he started in with the evangelizing. It's what Wolf would do if their situations were reversed. The realization only managed to aggravate him more. “I'm not one of your mission fields,
Reverend
Wagner.”

“Didn't say you were.”

Even knowing J.T.'s game, even recognizing what time spent with the man would mean, Wolf relented. “All right. I'll go, but only if you promise me one thing.”

“Name it.”

“No God talk.”

J.T. stopped in front of a black SUV and regarded Wolf with kind, patient eyes. He didn't look like a pastor anymore, but a man who'd been through his own tragedy and was now on the other side. Wolf couldn't help but envy him that.

“I'm not here solely as a pastor.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I figure you need a friend. And maybe—” J.T. drew in a sharp breath “—so do I.”

That got Wolf's attention. “Aren't you surrounded by
friends
all day long at your church?”

“You'd be surprised.” J.T. unlocked the car door, swung it open but didn't climb in. “People expect a certain…shall we say…behavior out of a pastor. It's hard to be a spiritual leader and human at the same time. Know what I mean?”

Yeah, Wolf knew. As the leader of an entire unit of soldiers he had to keep a professional distance at all times. Consequently, he'd dealt with his share of loneliness through the years. J.T. might be a pastor, but he was proving to be a man with similar challenges as Wolf.

Maybe they could be friends.

Except…

There was something—or rather,
someone
—standing between them. Wolf decided to cut to the chase. “Are you interested in Hailey?”

A rush of emotions fled across J.T.'s face before he covered them with a blank stare. “I'll admit, there was a
time when I thought Hailey and I might get together, but it wasn't in God's plan for either of us.” He looked expectantly at Wolf, waiting perhaps for him to interrupt.

When he didn't, J.T. continued. “I've long since resigned myself to the fact that she'll never be more than a friend to me.” He paused. “What about you? Are you interested in her?”

Despite the fact that Wolf had started this thread, he didn't want to answer the question. What he felt for Hailey was private. Hard to explain. And certainly none of J.T.'s business. But the guy had been candid when he could have hedged. Wolf owed him the same level of honesty. “Yeah. I am.”

J.T. went dead still, but Wolf could see the guy's mind working through the new information. Eventually, his face relaxed and he said, “Okay. This is good. No, it's real good. For you both.”

Instant relief flooded through Wolf, as if he'd been waiting for J.T.'s blessing. Looked like they were on the road to becoming friends after all.

 

Thanks to Savannah's notoriously bad traffic, Hailey arrived late to the church Wednesday night. Surprised to see so few empty seats, she slipped along the back row of chairs and sat in one of the last ones available.

Glad the class hadn't started yet, she smiled at several familiar faces. It took her a moment to realize that there was a disproportionate amount of women in the room. Clearly word had spread that a good-looking,
single
Army officer would be teaching the survival classes.

Even as Hailey argued silently with herself, she couldn't stop a possessive thought from taking hold.
Mine.

Perfect. She was already anxious about seeing
Wolf again. Now she had to contend with a new set of emotions.

The man was quite simply turning her well-planned life into one of uncertainty and raw nerves.

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Hailey gathered her courage and searched for Wolf. She found him standing with J.T. at the front of the room. Heads bent at identical angles, they studied a sheet of paper Wolf held in his hand. So absorbed with the contents on the page, the rest of the room might as well not exist for either man.

Standing shoulder to shoulder, both had an undeniably masculine appeal. Hailey had to admit that J.T. was as good-looking as Wolf. But whenever she thought about pursuing something beyond friendship with the pastor she felt…nothing. Not even a flutter of interest.

But all Wolf had to do was capture her gaze and her stomach performed a somersault.

As though sensing her gaze on him, Wolf lifted his head and scanned the room. When all that intensity leveled onto her, Hailey's stomach began a series of quivering little flips.

She quickly lowered her head and discovered that her fingers were locked in a choke hold around her pen. This crazy reaction to a man she'd known less than a week was absurd.

Relaxing her grip, Hailey looked back up. But Wolf had returned his attention to the paper in his hand.

He still wore his BDUs, the handsome brute. There was something compelling about a man in uniform, especially when the man had broad shoulders, pale blue eyes and day-old stubble running along his jaw. It made a woman think of happily-ever-after and a house full of black-haired children. Dangerous territory for someone
who'd lost all of her loved ones to tragedy. Deep down, Hailey couldn't really believe there was a happy ending waiting for her.

She cringed at the thought. But before she could give in to her rising concerns, J.T. walked to the center of the small stage with Wolf following closely behind. They turned to face the room as a unit, looking completely in sync with one another.

Wolf looked at her and winked.
Again
her stomach performed a rolling somersault.

What was she supposed to do with this attraction?

Clay's sage words instantly popped into her mind.
If you're not sure what to do, give it up to God.

Yes. She would surrender this confusing dilemma to the Lord. Feeling marginally better, Hailey took a calming breath.

J.T. addressed the room. “It's always advisable to go into a foreign country as equipped as possible. Spiritual preparedness is only one of the necessary steps to effective missionary work.” He scanned the room with an all-consuming glance. “You should also know how to protect yourself should the worst-case scenario occur.”

A few gasps met this remark, but J.T. didn't seem to notice. He motioned Wolf forward. “This is Captain Ty Wolfson, an active-duty soldier who's agreed to teach a six-week course on basic survival skills. I know some of you are heading to Haiti in less than three weeks. We'll make sure you get the bulk of the information you need before you leave. Let's start with a word of prayer.”