Homecoming (Dogs of War: Foxhole #1)

Chapter 2

TWO

December 2024

Owen Black knew he was being stared at, but it didn’t bother him. He felt no feelings of animosity. Just curiosity. And it wasn’t invasive curiosity, just a mild interest. His was a newer face, and he could feel more feminine attention than anything. He tipped his cowboy hat to several people on the street. It didn’t hurt to be polite.

Elizabeth Terberger and the Dogs of War group had chosen well when they’d picked the mountains around Whisper Hollow, North Carolina, to build the refuge for the men. The town was nestled at the base of the mountain range they’d bought, and it was big enough to support an influx of business, but not so big that it would be hard to get anything done. There were several cafes and restaurants, a coffee shop, two hardware stores owned by contentious brothers, a gift/card store, a flower shop, and several smaller, privately owned businesses. The downtown area was quaint, and he could tell that people took pride in their town. Everything they needed was right here. It was the storybook kind of place where neighbors helped neighbors and crime was an anomaly.

Giant holiday wire shaped candles and bells and holly forms had been wrapped with lights and hung from the lampposts. Strings of lights spanned the width of the street between the posts. It was kind of disgustingly cute. His gaze zeroed in on the candle three posts down. It needed another Zip-tie to tighten it to the post, and the fourth bulb was out. But it would be pretty at night. Most people wouldn’t even notice the dark bulb.

The display made him think of his childhood. His family had been poor as fuck, but they’d always attended the Christmas parade at the beginning of December, and his dad would always make sure they took several driving trips around town to look at the lights at night. He missed those innocent days. Missed his dad, especially. And his little brother.

There was some kind of commotion going on ahead. He paused at the corner to take in the details, hands in his jeans pockets, as he watched Grace Lane yell at a much taller man. Grace was on the shorter side, with thick, dark chestnut hair, but she was a burst of color. She was bundled against the cold in a long, heavy-duty looking dark red coat, her hair trailing in glossy curls most of the way down her back. And there was some kind of ridiculous headband on her head. It was hard to tell from the back, but he thought it was a set of fluffy ears. The man being yelled at was struggling not to laugh. His eyebrows were raised and his chin tucked, like he was trying to listen to her seriously.

Black could feel frustration building in her, and he was curious what she would do. Trying to be nonchalant, he pulled out his cell phone to pretend to check messages and leaned against a lamppost.

“I don’t care if you have to go down the valley to Brighton to borrow some of their lights,” Grace said, her voice a whisper hiss. “You’re not putting white lights on the rest of the reindeer when the first six are colored lights. That would look ridiculous. This is the most important display for the square.”

“Come on, sis,” the man said, his own voice exasperated. “The kids aren’t going to care what color the damned reindeer are.”

She stepped into his space a little. “I would, JT. It’s wrong, and you know it. You’re just too lazy to find the right lights.”

“We already used all the colored lights,” he said, waving a hand toward the big courthouse, a block down. It had literally been draped in strings of Christmas lights, from the top of the third story clock tower down to the ground, then around the oak trees on the grounds. From this distance, Black could see more than a hundred strings of lights. There was a clear path people could follow to look at all the displays. It looked a little chaotic, but the kids would definitely love it.

“I have to do well with this initiative, JT. You know I have a lot riding on it.”

The man’s face softened. “I know you do, Grace, but you’ve become a bit of a dictator.”

The woman tipped back her head and laughed, and Black could feel his lips tip up in shared humor. Grace Lane had the kind of open, friendly personality that drew people to her. She didn’t care what she looked like when she laughed, she just did it, with her whole body. And she seemed to see the beauty in everything. Bloom, her flower store, always had a brilliant display in the front window, and maybe that was why she was so critical about the reindeer display. It wasn’t the right aesthetic. He’d heard her say that a few times over the past several months.

He’d heard chatter at the cafe that she’d left some big design job in the city a few years ago to come home and be with her family after her father took ill. Howard Lane apparently rallied once his daughter came home, because Black saw him walking Main Street occasionally. He was a tall, spare man with graying chestnut hair, very similar to his daughter’s. Grace’s mother was just as beautiful as she was. Her hair was grayer, but her golden eyes were just as sharp as Grace’s. Black had run into her a few times at the grocery. As soon as he’d seen Frankie Lane, he’d known she was the mother of the Lane kids. Their characteristics bred true.

Grace was a hometown girl, and he’d learned a lot about her. Helped primarily by the chattering old busybodies that liked to gather at Lila’s Bistro. Black didn’t come to town often, but when he did, he liked to eat at Lila’s because it had the best food in a hundred-mile radius. He could block out the old women’s chatter if he needed to, but his ears always pricked up if he heard Grace’s name.

Grace had aspirations of taking over as mayor when Old Man Krank finally resigned. It was why she was working hard at beautifying the town. It was also why she was bending over backwards to help him out.

Black had received notification from Fontana that one of the bigger, primary cabins needed to be ready within the next three days. Aiden, Angela and baby Fallon were arriving, and it needed to be ready for them. He did not know what they were bringing, so he needed to cover everything. And quickly. Black wasn’t sure why the rush, but something must have spooked them enough to get out of Virginia. There was a team in the cabin now doing final trim and paint touch-ups, and Yates and Shade were going over the security protocols. They would have to tighten security all over with the baby in residence.

Black had cringed when Fontana told him the news. “Do they realize how rough it is out here? We have the main structures up, but it’s not as cushy as the Elton building. There’s no central heat or air, yet. Power can be iffy. Cell service is a spotty mess. Dominic still has issues with the water. They would be better off in the main building, at the very least.”

But Fontana had shaken his head. “They want their own space. A place they can make their own. They are aware of the issues, but they need to disappear.”

Black heard the underlying issue. Somebody was after the baby again. Still. They’d never given up on trying to grab her.

This was going to make his job so much harder. “Are they bringing a team?”

“Yes,” Fontana said, “but only a few. One dedicated guard specifically for the baby.”

Well, that was better than nothing. They could secure the family. Most of the men down here kept up with their training up by the cold mountain pond on the far ridge, but their primary job was building up the camp. Making sure all vital processes — power, water, septic — were in place and working. Coming up this mountain and completely starting at the beginning, building those necessities had taken a long time, and after being here a year, there were still kinks to work out. The elements worked against them, constantly, and winter was just settling in. They’d had snow since Thanksgiving, and Black doubted they would see green grass again until spring. This high up, it stayed cold.

They’d done as much prep work as possible, and it had been the most challenging project of his career. But he’d needed it. It had been something to focus on other than his own pain. And it quieted the noise in his head.

This woman was another thing that had taken his focus and eased the noise.

On any given day, he had between fifty and a hundred thoughts pounding through his brain at all times. All fighting for center stage. Most of it was useless info that literally no one cared about but him. Like, they needed half a load of gravel to fill a hole in the lower drive. Three cases of pop had ruptured from the cold and the rest needed moved inside before it did the same. There was a new squeak coming from the right-hand dryer in the mudroom. All stuff that no one even thought about, but that bedeviled him.

Grace turned around then and caught him staring at her back. “Mr. Black,” she said, surprise lifting her perfectly sculpted brows.

With his enhanced ability to notice detail, her face was a fascination to him. Black had never seen a woman who looked like Grace Lane. She had one of the most beautiful countenances he’d ever seen on a woman, with thick, strong dark brows over deep-set eyes. Her irises were a pale brown, with glints of gold in the center— four on the right and five on the left— and he could stare at them forever. Her eyes were slightly tilted, and they looked almost leonine. Her mouth seemed a little too broad and full for her lean face, but maybe that was because she was always smiling.

Now that she’d turned around, he could see she wore a pair of fluffy deer’s ears on her head. It was silly, but cute too. They were lit with colorful little lights. One tiny red bulb was out.

The woman was one of those people that always seemed to be disgustingly upbeat, active, and he always felt like a black cloud as he hovered around. But nothing seemed to get her down. For a guy who only thought about things weighing on him, and the endless details to be completed, she was like a breath of fresh air. Her lightness haunted him, and made him want more of her shine, as ridiculous as the thought was.

As soon as Fontana told him Aiden’s family was coming, he’d texted Grace, hoping that she could get the cabin stocked and decorated before they arrived. Actually, he was glad to have the reason to contact her. It had been a few weeks since he’d last seen her in person. Hopefully, judging by the grin on her face, she had everything she needed for him. Aiden and family were arriving tomorrow, and they were cutting it so close.

Grace always seemed ready to tackle whatever issue he handed her, though. He’d interacted with her several times over the past year, and she always helped him out. But it came with a price. There was no way he could miss the growing interest in some of her lingering looks.

“Hello, Ms. Lane,” Black said, pushing air through his vocal cords to try to sound normal. The roughness was still there, though. “I’m early, so don’t feel rushed if you’re dealing with something else.”

She waved a perfectly manicured hand, her nails a pearl white with black lines squiggled across them. And different colored gems. Was that supposed to represent Christmas lights on her nails?

“It’s just my younger brother being a pain in my behind, as always,” she said, projecting her voice a little over her shoulder so that said brother could hear her.

The younger man waved a hand in her direction, but didn’t look up from what he was doing.

Black smiled slightly, feeling a sudden wash of pain. He hadn’t seen his own younger brother in a long time, and he wondered how he was doing.

“If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you what I’ve pulled together. The furniture truck is on its way up the mountain,” she glanced at the clock on her phone, “about half an hour ago. Hopefully, by the time we get your truck loaded with the smaller stuff, the furniture guy will be done.”

Black fell into step beside her as they headed toward the flower shop, conscious to shorten his strides to match hers. Grace wasn’t very tall, barely to his shoulders, and curvy as all hell. She wore sexy little brown suede boots today, and he didn’t want her to slip. It wasn’t as snowy on the sidewalks as it was up on the mountain, but he could see a few slick spots.

“How is your driveway holding up with all this snow?” she asked him, smiling at him in that way she had. When Black talked to her, he felt like she was interested in everything he had to say.

“Pretty good, so far,” he said. “A few washouts, but we expected that.”

The twenty square mile parcel of land that was the Foxhole backed up to the Pisgah national forest. When they’d first arrived on the property, there was the faint line of a logging road zigzagging up the primary mountain. They’d had to hire a construction crew with heavy equipment to come in and dig a driveway out of the terrain. It had taken weeks of dozer and backhoe work, clearing land, removing trees, and building drainage ditches. It had taken truck after truck of hauled stone to build the base of the drive. It still wasn’t perfect, but it was passable now for most vehicles. They’d been able to get multiple lumber trucks up the mountain with building materials, so he was hoping the furniture truck would be okay as well.

One of Grace’s brothers, a short, older one, ran the driveway construction crew. Beck had been easy to deal with, and he understood building in that kind of environment. Black had learned a lot from him and had even bought one of his backhoes for work around the mountain. Beck had also put him in touch with a guy with a sawmill for sale so that they could start milling their own lumber from what they were clearing. The excess went into their lumber pile, and the scraps went into the firewood stacks.

“We may have to haul more stone in the spring, but for now, it’s holding up. Your brother did a great job.”

Grace beamed at the praise. “Even if he wasn’t my brother, I would have suggested Beck’s company. He has a fantastic reputation.”

Grace passed by her storefront door. Bloom had caught his eye when he’d first arrived in Whisper Hollow and had done his initial walkthrough. Every major holiday, she changed the front window display to reflect the holiday. Her store sold flowers daily, but she also did interior design work, and her vignettes represented both aspects of what she was able to do. Sometimes he drove by just to look at what she’d created, because it was always something unique. This month was Christmas, of course, and she had a beautiful little display of rabbits celebrating the holiday in their way, with tiny homemade gifts. It was quaint and not normally something he appreciated, but it reflected her whimsical personality perfectly.

Grace went around the corner, into the alley, and let them in through the side door, then called out a greeting for her worker in the front. Once that was done, she led him through to the back. “You can’t see everything because of the plastic, but I was able to get most of what we ordered. I know you’re a stickler, but a few things were out of stock and had to be replaced.”

Grace turned and headed toward a small landing leading to stairs. He thought she’d mentioned that she lived in the apartment above the shop. Black followed along, thinking she had something else to show him, but he jerked to a stop. Grace was bent over, her nicely rounded ass in the air as she leaned down to change her boots. Immediately, he felt a rush of heat into his groin, and he had to force his hands to stay at his sides.

When she turned around, she grinned at him. She obviously knew he’d been looking. Black tipped his hat down, hoping it shielded his burning face. It had been a long time since he’d expressed interest in a woman, and the feeling was so alien. They couldn’t do anything, of course, with the attraction that was there. She wasn’t the type to settle for a quick romp, and he would never offer it.

“I’m ready to go,” she said. “Let’s get this stuff loaded up.”

Black cocked his head at her. “What do you mean, you’re ready to go?”

“Well, this is my design, so I’m going to implement it.” She popped her eyebrows and planted her hands on her shapely hips.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he frowned. “That wasn’t the plan. The men in the compound are very private, and I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for you to come up the mountain.”

She gave him a look. “I’m not going to be running around on the mountain, screaming. I’m going to be in one cabin laying out my design. No one even needs to know that I’m there. The furniture man is up there. ”

Black scowled, thinking. Normally, there was a process to be admitted up onto the mountain, and either he or Fontana gave final approval. If they weren’t on the list at the security barn, they did not get through. Period. Plus, the fewer people that saw the security measures they had in place, the better. Some people would think it was overkill, but with the staffing that he had available to him, he considered it a bare minimum.

At the bottom of the mountain, there were tall, wrought-iron gates hung on stone pillars. The guest needed to request entrance by pushing the button on the call box or keying in a six-digit code. The guard in the security barn up the mountain would then let them up or not. The scanners and cameras set into the grate they drove over would also tell the guard if there was anything foreign on the vehicle, such as a tracker or even an explosive device. Once they made it through that gate, they needed to travel a little over four miles up the drive before they hit the second security gate and the security barn. It was a small cabin at the side of the driveway, manned twenty-four seven, with another, more secure gate, attached to the fence that surrounded the central core of the compound. An eight-man team had been working for months only on the eight-foot security fence that encircled the area. They ran miles of that fence, through valleys and washes, up steep canyon walls, across creeks. North Carolina, and this area in particular, was heavily forested with towering evergreen and oak, but there was a layer of rock beneath the forest floor that took a tremendous effort to get through. One of the guys had an affinity for the land, but even he hadn’t been able to find a way through the tough crust. They’d had to resort to using jack-hammers in places to get the fence poles deep enough to support the fence. It was a grueling job, but they’d had to rush to get it done before the ground froze.

The property was beginning to look like a military compound, but he refused to apologize for it if it kept everyone safe.

Did Grace need to go up the mountain? Not necessarily.

“Are you going to decorate the cabin, Mr. Black?” Grace asked, as if she sensed his hesitation, brows raised. “You said the woman has a baby. Are you just going to leave all this stuff in her living room and hope she figures it out?”

Black clenched his jaw. He’d told Fontana that it was only a matter of time before people started talking about the compound. They’d spun it as a sanctuary for recovering veterans, which wasn’t far from the truth. Hence the name, the Foxhole. And they had everyone that set foot on the mountain sign an NDA, with a hefty penalty attached. Grace had already signed the NDA, just because it was becoming part of their practice when they contracted for anything with the townspeople.

Did he want to set out all the doodads and set up the beds and do the linens? Definitely not. He was already behind in his schedule, as it was. “Fine. But I’m going to remind you of the NDA that you signed. You are not to talk about any part of the sanctuary, either its layout or residents.”

She scrunched up her cute face. “Who exactly am I going to tell?”

Black lifted a brow at her, but Grace shook her head, crossing her arms. “I don’t chatter like the busybodies you see around town. I’ve signed many NDAs to deal with my clients in New York, Mr. Black. Yours is not any different. I won’t talk about anything I see.”

He sighed. This was probably going to happen at some point, anyway. There were a lot more cabins that would need to be stocked and decorated. At the very least, stocked. “Fine. Let’s stop killing daylight, then. And you can call me Owen.”

He clenched his jaw, a little shocked that he’d offered her his first name. Why the fuck had he done that? He’d been Black to everyone he knew for years. It was what he’d been called in the Special Forces. Some of the men he’d worked with for the past couple of years probably didn’t even know his first name.

Grace smiled at him, her teeth gleaming like he’d given her jewels. “Owen. I like that. And you can call me Grace.”

Warmth flowed through his gut at that, and he felt a little ridiculous, so he turned away without saying anything.

They loaded the truck, which he’d parked in the alley for exactly this purpose, quickly. Most of the items were easily carried, but a few they had to carry together. His legs ached, but he didn’t slow down.

“If I had known you were going to have this much stuff, I would have brought somebody with me to do the grunt work.”

Grace laughed. “You signed off on the plans and estimates. You knew exactly what I was getting. You were just too stubborn to bring anyone else in.”

Black scowled at her, stinging at the bit of truth. He was kind of shook that she pinpointed that. Yeah, he was a little prideful at being able to do this, but whatever. For a long time, he couldn’t even walk across a room, let alone move furniture. But Grace didn’t know that. He didn’t even limp now, unless it had been an especially trying day. There was no outside indication of the way he’d been broken, other than his voice, and it would never get better. It was just an astute guess on her part.

They finished loading the boxes, and he watched as she secured the side door. Before he could think better of it, he’d held the passenger side door open for her.

This is not a fucking date, Black.

No, but he could be polite. She smiled up at him as she jumped into the truck, and Black tried not to be obvious as he inhaled her spicy scent. It reminded him of ginger. Was it her shampoo? Clenching his jaw, he circled the hood. The truck was already running, and the vents pumped out heat, once again, swirling her scent around him. This trip was going to be sweet torture.

Shifting into gear, he headed toward the North end of town. They’d gotten some snow two days ago, but the roads were fairly clear.

“How long does it take to get to the compound?” she asked, her gloved hands folded in her lap. At some point, she’d taken off the silly ears, and he kind of missed them.

“About half an hour.”

She lifted her brows. “Wow. I have to admit, I am curious.”

He sighed. That had been a sentiment he’d heard a lot recently. Townsfolk remarking that they would like to see what they’d built. A very few had, but so far, no one had talked about it. The first time someone talked, there would be an epic lawsuit. It was his job to protect these men up here, and he took that charge seriously.

“Do you miss New York?” he asked, then cursed himself. This wasn’t a social outing. He certainly didn’t want to encourage the interest he’d felt building between them.

She made a funny face, her nose scrunching. “I kind of do. It was nice being able to pick up the phone and literally eat your way around the world if you wanted to. I miss Thai food,” she said with a laugh. “It was nice having a store with everything you need within probably twenty feet of your front door. I was born and bred in North Carolina, though. My dad is from here. Mom was from Iowa, but she wasn’t close to her family out there.”

“It seems like you have a lot of family here,” he murmured.

Snorting, she sighed. “Yeah, I do. I’m one of three girls and three boys, and I’m kind of in the middle. We have a bunch of cousins, all about the same age. My dad has two sisters and two brothers who live here, and they had big families. If the surname is Lane or Fields, they’re probably related.”

He glanced at her across the space of the seat. “Wasn’t Lane one of the original settlers?”

Her eyes lit up. “Yes, clear back in Daniel Boone times. He headed in one direction and my great, great, great whatever headed in this direction. Stopped here when his boots fell to pieces, the story goes.”

She seemed proud of her family. It shone in her bright eyes and the slight upturn of her lips. Damn, those lips were so dark pink, and full. He’d dreamed of those lips.

Cursing internally, Black turned back to the road. What was the deal? He’d been dealing with Grace Lane for months now in a professional capacity, but it was hard to be reserved and stoic all the time. He carried a huge amount of responsibility, building up the Foxhole for the men, and it was finally paying off. Now that they had the housing, they were settling into a living rhythm. For a long time, it had been one emergency after another. Now, he was getting a little time to relax and slow down. And it had been a long time since he’d been with a woman.

But the situation they were in wasn’t something he could plan for. Aiden moving down early hadn’t been scheduled, so maybe that was putting him off.

Black slowed for the turn up the hill. The discreet sign with the foundation name and the gold fox head sat at the edge of the drive, and it looked legitimate. They were a real counseling center, kind of. That just wasn’t the entire scope of what they did. Elizabeth had even sicced some of her expensive lawyers on the job of declaring them a charity.

As his heavy-duty truck downshifted to take the grade, he glanced in the back to make sure everything was traveling well. Nothing seemed to have shifted. They reached the preliminary gate, and he keyed the remote on his visor. The big metal gates swung open almost soundlessly.

“Wow. Nice gates.”

Snorting, he headed up the mountain, wondering how bad this was going to be. There was a very good possibility the Foxhole would blow Grace’s mind.