Steadfast Soldier. Cheryl Wyatt

      “Hey, that looks like a combat boot. Is it?” She nodded toward his foot.

      He nodded. “Jump boot. Similar, I guess.”

      “For skydiving?”

      He met her gaze again. “You could say that.”

      What he said intrigued her, but what he didn’t say intrigued her more. She loved a man immersed in mystery. The fact that she’d get to ride back through forest and fields with her arms wrapped around him again pasted a smile on her face.

      He looked so masculine against bright backdrops of raised knolls carpeted in vivid green grass landscaped with outlying woods. Assorted trees and wildflowers dotted the canvas of earth, which met the sky in brilliant purple-pink hues. Colorful and vibrant, pure and peaceful.

      How she felt inside just walking and talking with him.

      His jaw lifted as he eyed the painted horizon. “Sun’s setting. We better head back.”

      Walking side by side, he peered down at her with steadfast sureness. The compelling look on his face caused her heart to flutter like a butterfly being courted by a winsome breeze.

      “It’s going to be okay, Chloe,” he said after a moment of walking, with no words other than what was communicated by his sturdy gaze whispering unwavering confidence into hers.

      “I hope so.”

      He cleared his throat. “Uh, d-do you think you’ll be coming back t-t-to try again, y-you know, w-w-with Dad?” He looked both annoyed at his stutter and scared of her answer. His dysfluent speech proved it so.

      She stopped, put her hand on his arm until he paused his long-legged stride and looked down at her. “Of course.”

      He nodded and relief fell across his face in terrific waves. He resumed his steps. The four-wheeler came into view. “Busy week ahead.”

      “Me too.” One that she looked forward to more than she ought, thanks to thoughts of glimpsing Chance again, although she truly did look forward to the challenge of assisting Ivan with his exercises.

      If she could continue to trick or otherwise convince him to do them. If not, Chance had no need of her. She was there to help his father and she’d best not forget it.

      That’s the only reason Chance looked at her as if he’d been stranded for months in the middle of a lonely, swirling ocean and she was the first lifeline to hit his destitute horizon. Right?

      God had sent her. No doubt about it. The girl was a human life preserver. Dad’s mood had improved three hundredfold since Midnight and Chloe had come this week. And his mood had improved along with his dad’s, especially after spending time with her yesterday afternoon and evening. They’d had a great time.

      Chance’s teammate Nolan and his wife, Mandy, arrived, and Chance grabbed his keys. “Mandy’s here, Dad. She’s gonna sit with you while Nolan and I work out and run by the Drop Zone. See you later, Dad.”

      Ivan waved him off. Apparently, Dad’s mood still had a ways to go.

      After pausing in the driveway to catch Mandy up on his dad’s needs, Chance and Nolan left. They pulled up at the B&B to pick up Brock for their daily pararescue workout regimen at Joel’s.

      Hopefully the next few hours of strenuous lifting and exhausting himself on free weights, kettlebell and fitness machines that looked more like torture devices would sweat the image of Chloe, the memory of her essence and the linger of her perfume out of Chance’s mind.

      Joel had built an exercise pole barn on his property. The guys used it often to stay in the superior shape their jobs required. If Chance’s appetite would return and his insomnia go, he’d be up to par. But these days, eating felt like little more than cramming gritty rocks in his mouth.

      After cardio and working muscles to the max, they hit the gym showers and locked up. Brock dropped Nolan off at the Drop Zone to help Joel, then accompanied Chance to the car.

      “Good ol’ Thursday. One more work day. We going out this weekend?” Brock pulled out of the DZ driveway.

      Chance knew that by weekend, Brock meant Friday night, since Saturday evenings the guys convened at Joel’s or Commander Petrowski’s for PJ cookouts.

      Chance attended church on Sundays now and didn’t want to break away from Dad or find sitters on Saturdays to attend the PJ barbecues, though he missed them. Dad was anxious about being left alone, plus his doctor recommended he remain under constant watch for a few more weeks.

      “What’s popping at the movies?” Chance settled deeper into the seat of Brock’s sports car and enjoyed the rumble of power beneath him. Brock was as much of an adrenaline junkie as Chance. They hadn’t gotten to do much in the way of fun the past six months though.

      Merging onto the interstate, Brock rocked the RPMs. “I’ll check the movie schedule at home. There’s a new action flick on.”

      Since Chance had openly committed his life to Christ following his teammate Vince’s dramatic conversion, Brock didn’t pressure Chance to party. Chance hadn’t managed to talk Brock into attending Bible studies…yet. In due time.

      Brock changed lanes and passed a semi. “You could invite that girl.”

      Chance plucked a bag of Nutter Butters off the dash. He had a penchant for sweets and missed his mom’s baking. These would get him through. “What girl?”

      “You know what girl.” Brock grinned. “She’s new to town. You should make her feel welcome.”

      A jagged piece of cookie must have gone down wrong, as Chance coughed. “The dog-toting OT?”

      “Seriously, man. She could probably use friends.”

      Brock was right. Mandy told him in the driveway earlier she was the only person Chloe knew in Refuge besides her mom. And now Chance and his father.

      Chance worked kinks out of his shoulder. “Not to change the subject, but I need to get back into a better routine. I don’t want to be out of shape for a rescue.”

      “Long as you keep working out like a fiend and hit most of the training ops, you’ll be fine.”

      “But being youngest on the team, I’m the weak link.”

      “You’re more experienced than most guys on Petrowski’s other PJ teams. Dude, seriously, don’t sweat it. You’ve been through a lot. Take this time to regroup.”

      Chance flipped the visor up when Brock merged onto Pena’s Landing toward the B&B. “I just wanna keep my head in the game when lives are at stake. Ya know?”

      “For sure.” Brock pulled into the driveway, cut the ignition and leaned forward abruptly. “No way.”

      Chance looked up. Blinked. Leaned in. “Is that Chloe?” She sat on the B&B steps, looking uncharacteristically frustrated. Chance exited the car. Brock trailed.

      Chloe’s body tensed and her expression looked uncertain under the wraparound porch’s dim light until she recognized the guys. She rose and wiped grime off of jeans that outlined shapely legs. “Hey.”

      They stopped in front of her at the foot of the stairs. When she looked at Chance as if she could cry on his shoulder, his heart melted. “Hey, Chloe. What’s up?”

      She waved a hand up to the tree where soft mewling originated. “There’s a stray kitten loose. I didn’t know it and Midnight got after him. He’s stuck up there. I’m not fond of falling from heights.”

      “I assume the dog’s inside?”

      She nodded. Chance searched the tree until he spotted the kitten’s eyes glowing between still-wet leaves that clung to a tangle of branches.

      “Can you help me rescue him?”

      Her voice drew his attention back.