Confusion wrinkled Maddie’s forehead as her gaze roamed over the smooth asphalt of the perfectly level parking lot. There wasn’t a crack, a bump or even a pebble to be seen. She looked back at Jake and frowned. “Your face is flushed.”
Great. Now he was blushing like a teenager. He jerked his gaze away from her dangerously beautiful eyes, which were as deep and blue as the sea of bluebonnets that covered the central Texas hills in springtime. “The heat’s getting to me, that’s all.”
She stepped closer and laid her palm against the side of his face, no doubt checking his temperature. “Are you staying hydrated?”
“Yeah.” Jake shied away from her touch, hoping she hadn’t noticed his racing pulse.
He’d never felt more ridiculous in his life. He was a thirty-nine-year-old combat veteran, a former U.S. Army aviator who’d flown Apache attack helicopters and twice been decorated for valor. So why was it that whenever this sweet young woman appeared on his radar screen, his heart sped up and he trembled like a nervous Chihuahua?
Maddie brushed some fine gravel off the front of his damp shirt. “I worry about you, Jake.”
Well, that was just great. All he’d needed was one more thing to feel guilty about where she was concerned.
“Is he okay?” A plump, elderly woman holding a paper bag of groceries in one arm approached the driver’s door of the Camry. She looked anxiously from Maddie to Jake, who was now leaning heavily on his cane and wishing he’d just called for a pizza instead of coming to the store in search of dinner.
“Yes, ma’am,” Maddie said sweetly. “He’ll be fine.”
“Oh, good. I saw him fall, but my old legs don’t move very fast.” The woman shook her head. “Wasn’t it just the oddest thing, the way he took that flying leap and—”
“I’m fine,” Jake interrupted. The less said about his flying leap, the better. “I appreciate your concern, ma’am, and I’m sorry I triggered your alarm.”
She dismissed that with an airy wave of her hand. “Isn’t it annoying, the way those dumb things go off every time somebody breathes wrong?” As Jake shifted out of her way, she opened the Camry’s door. “If I wanted to steal a car, I’d set off the alarm first to make sure nobody paid any attention to me.” Cackling at her own joke, she got in and closed the door.
Maddie slid a protective arm around Jake’s waist and silently urged him to back up a little more. Nurse or not, she was a natural-born caregiver. But Jake didn’t want to be fussed over by anyone, least of all by Noah’s kid sister.
Noah.
The memory of their last hour together was never far from Jake’s mind. How could it be, after what he had done? For more than five years the guilt had gnawed at his insides, ensuring he never forgot how his mistake had cost Noah his life.
“Where’s your car?” Maddie asked with brisk purpose, almost as though she meant to hoist Jake over her shoulder and carry him there.
He shook his head. “I’m going to the store.”
“No,” she said firmly. “Whatever you need, I’ll get it. You took a bad spill, and you’re going home to rest that leg. Now where’s your car?”
Giving in, he pointed with his stick and then hobbled in that direction, each step on his left leg pure agony. Since he used the cane on his right side, Maddie grasped his left arm and stuck to him as though she’d been glued there. She wasn’t supporting any of his weight, but it was clear she was ready to do so if called upon.
“You need water,” she announced as Jake collapsed onto the driver’s seat of the Beemer and stashed his cane behind it. “Wait here. I have some in my car.”
“No need.” Jake reached for the quart-size bottle of spring water on his passenger seat. After removing the cap, he offered the first drink to Maddie.
She grinned down at him and shook her head. “Still quite the gentleman, aren’t you, Captain Hopkins?”
“Don’t call me that.” In the past five years, he’d done his best to forget his old life. He wished the rest of the world would forget it, too.
He saluted Maddie with the bottle and took a long pull of sun-warmed water.
“Good.” She gave his shoulder an approving pat. “Now get some air going.”
Jake started his engine and switched the air conditioner to its highest setting. “Happy now?”
Maddie shook her head. “I can see the pain in your eyes, Jake.” She reached out to touch his face, then apparently thought better of it, which was a very good thing. “Do you have your meds with you?”
“No.” He had a prescription, naturally, but he refused to eat painkillers like candy, so most of the time he just gritted his teeth and bore it. At the moment, however, drugs sounded pretty good.
“Anna Terenkov told me you live in an apartment over your law offices,” Maddie said.
Jake nodded, wondering what else their mutual friend had said about him. Maddie—Madeline—knew him far too well already.
“I think you’re okay to drive that short a distance,” she said. “It can’t be more than a mile from here. Just promise you’ll go straight home.”
“I will.” Anything to get rid of her.
“Thank you.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek. It happened so fast, Jake didn’t have time to avoid it. Fortunately he didn’t have time to enjoy it, either.
“It’s unbelievably hot out here,” Maddie said cheerfully as she tucked an escaped lock of hair under the yellow scarf she wore as a headband.
She had always been crazy about yellow and still wore at least a touch of it whenever she could. It was the color of the sun, she’d told Jake years ago. The color of happiness.
“What am I getting you from the store?” she asked.
“Nothing.” He didn’t want her doing him any favors. “You don’t have time to—”
“Actually, I do, because this is my day off. And guess what?” Her eyes glowed with happiness. “I’ve been house hunting.”
House hunting? Jake almost groaned aloud. Why couldn’t she just stay on post, where she belonged? If she moved into town, Jake would bump into her even more often than he did already.
Just yesterday, he’d seen her at the offices of Children of the Day, an international Christian charity founded five years ago by Prairie Springs resident Anna Terenkov to assist innocent victims of war. For the past year, Jake had been doing pro bono legal work for the organization, so he’d become friendly with Anna and with Olga, her delightfully outlandish mother.
He genuinely liked both women, but lately Anna and Olga had been getting on his nerves because they couldn’t stop talking about their new friend Maddie. She was so sweet, they gushed. So eager to help everyone. And Olga, the inveterate matchmaker, had pointed out on more than one occasion that a man would have to be dead not to notice how pretty she was.
Jake definitely wasn’t dead.
Dreamy-eyed, Maddie stared over the Beemer’s roof. “I’m looking for a place where I can have a flower garden and a kitchen big enough to actually cook in.” Her gaze shifted back to Jake. “The kitchenettes in the bachelor officers quarters at Fort Bonnell must be some architect’s idea of a joke, and…” She stopped and gave herself a little shake. “Never mind. What am I getting you from the store?”
“Nothing, thanks. I wanted something for dinner, but I’ll just go home and make a sandwich.” With two stale pieces of bread—all that was left of the loaf were the heels—and the last thin sliver of ham, which he’d have to sniff carefully before he risked eating. He never