answer."
"Taliban? Why were you in Afghanistan?"
Green eyes, gone almost gray in the softened light under the willows, watched her through a fringe of dark lashes, as if he were deciding how much he could trust her. "I was investigating claims locals had made regarding a group of this contractor's operators. Uncle Sam prefers his employees not be in league with the opposition. Someone blew my cover and I had to get out fast." He closed his eyes, like slamming the door on a nightmare, and slowly reopened them. "Your turn. What happened?" He gestured toward the general vicinity of her left leg.
Kate's chest froze up, just like it always did when anyone asked. How much of it could she trust him with, if any? But he'd answered her, given at least a sanitized version of the events. Could she do any less? "Our car was hit by a drunk driver when I was a baby. My mom was killed. By the time I was eighteen, I had more than three dozen surgical procedures, and almost two dozen actual open surgeries, on my hip and leg. They wanted to do more but I refused. Haven't gone to a doctor since. They predicted I would never walk independently, and I'm not supposed to do anything that will stress the old breaks and surgical sites."
"Yet you're out here? Doing all this?"
"That I am." Kate let her head fall back, prepared for the coming lecture.
"Cool."
She waited for him to say more. And waited. Cool? That was it? "What do you mean, cool?"
He looked at her from under that fringe of lashes again. "I mean it's cool you don't let anyone else set your limits."
Well, that was a first. And it left her at a loss for how to react. Instead, she changed the subject. "So, I take it you haven't hunted for a while?"
"A little while. I enlisted right out of school, and turns out, I have a knack for languages and I'm good at improvising. I got tapped for a special mission, and more followed. Next thing I know, I'm right in the middle of it, hot on the tail of a high-value target. But lately I've been homesick a lot, and my tour is up. I was taking leave to decide whether to re-up or not, but Uncle Frank died before I got home. Your call caught me trying to figure out what do with his animals." He fell silent and closed his eyes, leaving her to wonder if he'd fallen asleep.
Only one way to find out. "So why are you here?"
His mouth curved up in a slight smile. "Taking advantage of time alone to think. Back home there are constant reminders of what I left, and why. On post there are all the reminders and responsibilities of my duty. I needed to be away from both, and anyone or anything else."
"And I invited myself along and put a real cramp in your plans." No need to make it a question. There was no doubt.
He quirked one shoulder in a half-shrug. "That might not be a bad thing." He patted the ground at his side. "Kick back and rest a few. Once we close on that cat, there won't be time to relax."
True. And the thick cushion of grass did look comfortable. Kate scooted around to the spot he'd indicated, and lay back. Only once she was actually lying down, did she stop to consider why she might have followed his direction so closely. The grass where she'd been sitting was equally thick and comfortable, and she could see the animals clearly. It made no sense, since normally she would have just lain back where she sat. Well, she was there now, no sense moving just to prove a point.
"How long do you plan on resting?" Stupid question, Kate. Since when did silence bother her? Ridiculous. Studiously staring directly up into the tree to avoid looking in his direction was probably something like ridiculous too, but she wasn't sure quite what.
"I don't know, maybe an hour. Long enough to let the horses cool down and graze a little, and drink their fill. I'm not sure what the graze and water situations will be over the next few days." His voice held a drowsy note and tempted her to at least glance in his direction.
When she did, the first thing to impact her
"Taliban? Why were you in Afghanistan?"
Green eyes, gone almost gray in the softened light under the willows, watched her through a fringe of dark lashes, as if he were deciding how much he could trust her. "I was investigating claims locals had made regarding a group of this contractor's operators. Uncle Sam prefers his employees not be in league with the opposition. Someone blew my cover and I had to get out fast." He closed his eyes, like slamming the door on a nightmare, and slowly reopened them. "Your turn. What happened?" He gestured toward the general vicinity of her left leg.
Kate's chest froze up, just like it always did when anyone asked. How much of it could she trust him with, if any? But he'd answered her, given at least a sanitized version of the events. Could she do any less? "Our car was hit by a drunk driver when I was a baby. My mom was killed. By the time I was eighteen, I had more than three dozen surgical procedures, and almost two dozen actual open surgeries, on my hip and leg. They wanted to do more but I refused. Haven't gone to a doctor since. They predicted I would never walk independently, and I'm not supposed to do anything that will stress the old breaks and surgical sites."
"Yet you're out here? Doing all this?"
"That I am." Kate let her head fall back, prepared for the coming lecture.
"Cool."
She waited for him to say more. And waited. Cool? That was it? "What do you mean, cool?"
He looked at her from under that fringe of lashes again. "I mean it's cool you don't let anyone else set your limits."
Well, that was a first. And it left her at a loss for how to react. Instead, she changed the subject. "So, I take it you haven't hunted for a while?"
"A little while. I enlisted right out of school, and turns out, I have a knack for languages and I'm good at improvising. I got tapped for a special mission, and more followed. Next thing I know, I'm right in the middle of it, hot on the tail of a high-value target. But lately I've been homesick a lot, and my tour is up. I was taking leave to decide whether to re-up or not, but Uncle Frank died before I got home. Your call caught me trying to figure out what do with his animals." He fell silent and closed his eyes, leaving her to wonder if he'd fallen asleep.
Only one way to find out. "So why are you here?"
His mouth curved up in a slight smile. "Taking advantage of time alone to think. Back home there are constant reminders of what I left, and why. On post there are all the reminders and responsibilities of my duty. I needed to be away from both, and anyone or anything else."
"And I invited myself along and put a real cramp in your plans." No need to make it a question. There was no doubt.
He quirked one shoulder in a half-shrug. "That might not be a bad thing." He patted the ground at his side. "Kick back and rest a few. Once we close on that cat, there won't be time to relax."
True. And the thick cushion of grass did look comfortable. Kate scooted around to the spot he'd indicated, and lay back. Only once she was actually lying down, did she stop to consider why she might have followed his direction so closely. The grass where she'd been sitting was equally thick and comfortable, and she could see the animals clearly. It made no sense, since normally she would have just lain back where she sat. Well, she was there now, no sense moving just to prove a point.
"How long do you plan on resting?" Stupid question, Kate. Since when did silence bother her? Ridiculous. Studiously staring directly up into the tree to avoid looking in his direction was probably something like ridiculous too, but she wasn't sure quite what.
"I don't know, maybe an hour. Long enough to let the horses cool down and graze a little, and drink their fill. I'm not sure what the graze and water situations will be over the next few days." His voice held a drowsy note and tempted her to at least glance in his direction.
When she did, the first thing to impact her
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