A Maverick for the Holidays

“This isn’t a good idea,” he muttered.

“I think it’s a great idea,” she said and smiled her wicked, innocent, sexy smile.

He clenched his jaw again. “That’s because you don’t know better,” he told her. “I’m too old for you.”

“Too old?” she echoed. “That’s crazy. How old are you?”

“Thirty-one, but in terms of experience—”

Angie rolled her eyes. “You exaggerated. You’re just finding your feet and your way. That’s why you feel unsure.”

“I don’t know about that,” Forrest said.

“Well, I do,” she said in a husky whisper as she leaned toward him.

“You need to leave,” he said.

“Isn’t that a bit drastic?” she asked.

“Not at all,” he said and steeled himself not to respond to her.

“Just one more kiss,” she whispered in an inviting voice.

“No,” he said, but it killed him.

Later that night, Forrest settled into his bed, but his mind continued to race. He needed to be more careful about Angie. She was more impulsive than he was. She clearly wanted him and had no interest in waiting. That meant trouble. She was making herself completely available to him.

How the hell was he supposed to resist that?

Forrest took another deep breath as he rested his head on his pillow. He needed some of that Zen stuff. He did not want to be fighting his sexual needs with Angie. Step back, he told himself. In every emotional and physical way, he had to walk away.

Since he was clearly more mature than she was, he would have to take the high road. Even though he found her far more tempting than he should. And now he would have the memory of that kiss they’d shared. Swearing under his breath, he turned on his side and closed his eyes. But the image of Angie’s sexy mouth taunted him.

It seemed to take hours, but Forrest finally fell asleep. When he awakened in the morning, he felt a sense of anticipation. He hadn’t had that in a long time. Today he was holding the first meeting of the war veterans support group. Part of him wondered if anyone would show up. He’d included a photo of Smiley in the flyers and website announcement for the group. He supposed if nothing else, some of the veterans might show up for some free food. A local deli was donating sandwiches and cookies for the first meeting.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he sat up and stretched his bad leg, willing it to get stronger. Forrest knew he would be struggling with his injury for the rest of his life, so there was no room for feeling sorry for himself. Rising from the bed, he headed toward his workout equipment. He might have a bum leg, but he was damned if the rest of him wouldn’t be as strong as possible.

A few hours later, Forrest arrived at the hospital conference room early with the sandwiches and cookies, and set the chairs in a circle. Annabel Cates rushed into the room with Smiley on a leash.

“Here he is,” she said. “Ready to work his canine magic. Plus a few treats you can give him,” she added, handing him a plastic bag.

Forrest’s heart lifted at the sight of the dog. “Good to see you, Smiley,” he said and rubbed the dog behind his ears. Smiley thumped his tail in response.

“He should be on his best behavior since I gave him some retraining. Can’t let him forget the rules. If you need me for anything, give me a call,” she said. “You’ve got my cell, right?”

“I’ve got it and thank you for loaning him to us,” Forrest said. “I think he’ll help break the ice.”

“This is a good thing you’re doing, Forrest. I’m glad if Smiley can help in any way. Just don’t give him any of those sandwiches,” she warned him. “No matter how sweet he looks, we’ve got to keep him disciplined if he’s going to be helpful.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “You’re the one giving the orders.”

Annabel gave a quick nod with a smile. “I’ll see you afterward. Have fun,” she said and darted out the door.

“Fun,” Forrest echoed. That was one word he wouldn’t have associated with a support group. He shrugged and looked at Smiley. “Maybe she knows something I don’t.”

Less that two minutes later, a man wearing a ball-cap and an open down jacket walked through the door. “Is this the war veterans support group?”

“It sure is,” Forrest said. “I’m Forrest Traub, army.”

The man nodded. “Iraq?” he said.

Forrest nodded. “And you?”

“Afghanistan. Steve Henderson. I’ve been back almost eighteen months.”

Smiley walked toward the man and looked at him, thumping his tail in welcome.

Steve bent down to pet the dog and gave a half grin. “Is this our mascot?”

“Yep, that’s Smiley. He’s a therapy dog on loan to us, and I’ll vouch for him. He’ll always be glad to see you,” Forrest said.

“Well, that’s a lot more than we can say about most humans,” Steve said.

Just then, another man walked through the door, then another. Smiley greeted each one, and Forrest could practically see a bit of tension ease out of the men at the sight of the dog. Eyeing the clock, he sensed that he should start the meeting and closed the door.

“Welcome, everyone. I hope you enjoyed the sandwiches and Smiley.”

The men took their seats and murmured in agreement.

“The first thing I want to tell you is that you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I have to be honest. Most of the time, I would rather do anything than talk about what I saw and experienced in Iraq.”

Several of the men nodded.

“But since this group was my idea, I guess I’ve got to go first.”

A few chuckles rippled through the small group.

Forrest took a deep breath. “During my last two tours, all I could think about was the day I would finally come home. I was determined to be career military, but seeing all those guys get hurt was tough. Being in Iraq was surreal, and not in a good way. Once I got home, though, it was Montana that didn’t seem like the real world anymore. People couldn’t understand what I’d been through, what I’d seen. And I got tired of explaining it.”

“So what helps?” one of the vets asked.

Forrest shrugged. “I don’t have all the answers. I have to admit, I took the coward’s way out—leaving home. After being home, I had to get out. I just moved to Thunder Canyon a few months ago. Folks don’t know me here as well since my brother and I haven’t lived here very long. They don’t have any expectations.” He paused. “What helps? Smiley sure does.” The dog licked him and laughter rippled through the small room.

The laughter turned to silence. “The nights are the worst. I’m back there, and the shells are flying, and I can’t stop screaming,” Steve offered. A few of the others nodded in agreement.

“The nightmares are bad. They feel so real,” Forrest said.

“Coming back to my wife helped me,” one of the men said. “She’s the reason I keep going.”