Chapter Seven
Crew liked to pop in for a therapy session first thing after his early morning ranch chores, getting it out of the way before the rest of the world woke up.
He rolled his shoulders as he crossed the thick grass between the barn and the lodge, turning his head to gaze at the mountain. The early morning sun barely crested it. His favorite view.
The view from this very spot changed every day. The sky ran through all the colors from dawn to deep midnight. Even the mountain changed with the seasons.
Until recently, Crew would tell Rhae he wasn’t moving in sync with his surroundings—he stayed the same. Sure, he healed a bit more each day. He smiled more and got stuck in his head less. But nothing felt different.
Now…something had shifted. Like maybe he wasn’t the dull gray glimmer on the horizon anymore. Maybe he was gold running into the palest blue.
When he reached Rhae’s office, he knocked on the open door. Rhae looked up, her smile warm. “Morning, Crew. Come on in.”
He glanced around for the therapy baby, but she wasn’t in the office.
Rhae’s smile softened. “Navy is sleeping in with her daddy.”
He nodded and dropped into the chair across from her desk, the familiar routine settling over him like a well-worn jacket. She asked him about his week, and he told her about helping unload boxes at the training facility. Heavy lifting. Physical work that didn’t require him to think too hard.
“I’m proud of you for taking that step.” Rhae leaned back in her chair. “That’s progress.”
His jaw tightened. “There’s more.”
She waited in her quiet way, the one that made him relax enough to go on.
“They asked me to move the chopper too.”
Her expression shifted, concern flickering in her eyes. “And?”
“I ran.” The admission tasted like ash. “Like a damn coward.”
“You’re not a coward, Crew.” Her voice was firm, no room for argument. “You’re still working through what happened with Conner. That takes time.”
He stared at the wood floor beneath his boots, his throat working.
Time. Everyone kept saying that, like eventually the guilt would just evaporate.
Like he’d wake up one day and forget the sound of engine failure and the sight of the fighter jet spiraling to the ground, carrying Conner’s body to an early grave.
The silence stretched between them. Rhae didn’t push. She just waited.
Finally, she shifted in her seat. “I know you’ve been helping with the community garden.”
His head came up, and something in his chest loosened. “Yeah.”
“You look like something’s on your mind.”
“There’s this woman. Fern. She’s designing the garden. Something happened to her. She keeps seeing a truck—outside her house and on the street where she was doing a landscaping job.”
Rhae’s eyes went wider. She had dealt with some scary things too. He and the other vets weren’t privy to the entire story, but he knew the whole ranch had been galvanized into action to protect her.
“Tell me about that,” she urged.
“She has a bad ex. She laid it out for Theo, Willow and me. They gathered information and put some plans in place for her safety. Still…I’m worried about her.” He met Rhae’s gaze. “I just wish I could do more than be her friend.”
“You’re a good friend, Crew. Just be you. Be there for her. And stay vigilant.”
“I intend to.” He fell silent for a long minute.
Finally, he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling heat creep up from his collar.
“She’s so passionate about plants and growing things.
” He paused, aware he was talking faster than usual.
“She knows her stuff. Every time I’m around her, I learn something new.
She lights up when she talks about soil composition or native species. ”
Rhae’s lips curved. “Talking about this puts you in a better mood.”
“Yeah.” The word came out rough. “It does.”
“Why do you think that is?”
He considered the question, turning it over in his mind like a smooth stone. “It helps me stop worrying about the future. Living in the present, you know? When I’m with her, I’m not thinking about what I can’t do anymore or what I lost. I’m just…there.”
Rhae leaned forward, her elbows on her desk. “You should try doing that with the past too.”
His laugh was bitter. “Hard to do when Conner’s family still hates me.”
“Still getting hate mail?”
“Been a while. But it hangs over me like a dark cloud. More blame from Conner’s brother, Reed. More reminders that I lived and Conner didn’t.”
He traced a spot on his forearm. He’d never had tattoos where they were visible—only hidden by his uniform. No reason to adhere to those rules anymore. And a thought settled in his gut, solid and right.
Rhae’s gaze dropped to where his fingers pressed against his skin. “You thinking about another tattoo?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Was thinking about finishing the sleeve.”
“Any idea what the design will be?”
“A wolf.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them, and he froze.
Rhae’s eyes widened. “Your handle.”
His handle. Wolf. The name they’d called him in the cockpit, in the ready room, in the field. The name that used to mean something.
His throat tightened. “And a bear. For Conner.” The thickness in his voice made it hard to get the words out. “That was his.”
He met her gaze, something hardening in his chest. “His family would say I don’t have a right to mourn him, but he was my brother too, dammit.” He ripped off his hat and cut his fingers through his hair.
A long beat followed. Then it hit him.
He stared into space, not seeing his surroundings as he worked through the revelation.
“What’s on your mind, Crew?” she asked gently.
“I’m not responsible for their feelings. That’s not mine to fix. I did what I could, Rhae. I wasn’t responsible for what happened. I couldn’t change it even if I had a time machine, and I’ll carry that every goddamn day. I can’t fix how Conner’s family feels about it.”
The words hung in the air, and he realized with a jolt that he meant them. Really meant them.
A breakthrough, Rhae would call it.
Her eyes glimmered with sympathy and more. Maybe it was pride. “No, you can’t.”
When he left her office, he felt lighter. Like something that had been pressing on his lungs had eased just enough to let him breathe. He passed Denver carrying his little girl in the hallway, and without thinking, he ruffled Navy’s hair.
“Bye, Navy,” he said softly.
The toddler beamed up at him, and he caught Rhae watching from the doorway, her expression warm with approval.
He had to focus on the good stuff. The things that made him feel human again.
Fern made him feel human.
As he exited the lodge, he pulled out his phone and found the number of a tattoo artist he’d visited a couple towns away. He’d browsed her art on the walls, but never committed to another piece.
His thumb hovered over the screen for a beat before he typed out the message.
Want to finish my sleeve. Thinking a wolf and a bear. Some trees in the foreground. And maybe some ferns.
He hit send before he could second-guess himself.
The walk to the community garden plot only took a minute, and with every step, his anticipation built. He told himself it was about the work. About getting his hands dirty and doing something productive.
But when he saw Fern kneeling in the dirt, her sky-blue shirt riding up to expose a strip of smooth skin at her lower back, he knew he was lying to himself.
The heavy work was taking place today. One of the guys manned the skid steer, stripping the turf off the plot and pushing it to the side. Another guy shoveled it into a wheelbarrow to cart away.
And a third veteran was chatting with Fern. He said something that made her laugh.
Crew set off at a fast clip.
“Morning,” he called, his voice a low bellow as he closed the distance. “Thought you could use a hand.”
She smiled at the vet and broke away. When she approached Crew, her cheeks flushed. “I’m glad to see you here.”
He stepped closer, close enough to catch the scent of her—something floral and earthy that made his mouth water. “I’m glad to see you.”
She shifted her feet in the freshly turned dirt. “Thank you for being there for me…after what happened.”
“Did you see the truck again?”
She shook her head. “No sign of it, and nothing on the security cameras either.” She blew out a breath as if releasing the tension of the event. “I’m so humbled that you and the others are helping me. I haven’t had friends in a long time.”
He inched closer, unable to stop himself. “I’m here for you, Fern.”
Even though she ducked her head, he still caught her smile, and pleasure spread through his whole body at the sweetness of it. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and he tracked the movement, fascinated by the way the sun caught the copper in her darker auburn waves.
Standing there with the morning sun on his face and the most beautiful woman inches from him sent a surge through his chest. After how long it’d been, it wasn’t exactly familiar.
Also not unfamiliar for what it was.
Happiness.
She swallowed hard, and he watched the movement of her throat, imagining his mouth there. Tasting her pulse. Making her gasp his name the way she had when he’d kissed her.
“Crew…”
“We should get to work.” He took a deliberate step back before he did something stupid like kissing her again in broad daylight where anyone could see. “Show me what needs doing.”
She nodded. He followed her to the pile of dirt that had been moved. She picked up the shovel. He took it from her, their fingers brushing, and electricity sparked between them.
This woman was going to wreck him.
And he was going to let her.
* * * * *
The low drone of the skid steer’s engine filled the air, drowning out the sounds of the Black Heart Ranch. Sod tore loose in long, satisfying strips as Colt Malone, one of the brothers she just met, worked the equipment with practiced ease.
Everywhere Fern looked, something was in motion.