and jerked her forward in a grip that felt like iron, the door opened and Andrea struggled for footing. As she did, a solid object crashed into the back of her shoulders, doubling her over as a second attacker rammed into her, knocking her onto her face.
There was a crash, a grunt and the sounds of fists on flesh. A swift kick jolted her thigh, as someone vaulted over her and out the door, then there was only silence, save the heavy breathing of the one man left in the lobby.
Andrea pushed to her hands and knees as fast as her shaking limbs would allow. Dragging in what might be her last breath, she steeled herself and prepared to go down fighting.
* * *
First Sergeant Josh Walker scrambled up, his first instinct to aid the woman on the floor, but he had to catch the man who had done this to her. He charged out the door in time to watch a burgundy sedan rocket out of the parking lot in a spray of dust and tire smoke. A groan roiled in the back of his throat as he balled his fists in frustration. The car was definitely a Chevy, but it was too far away to get the license plate. There was no way the police would arrive on the scene before that clown blended in with the end-of-duty-day traffic on Victory Drive.
The soft scrape of the door opening behind him pulled him to more immediate concerns. The woman. In the lobby. Nausea coiled in his stomach and looped through the familiar burn of condemnation. He’d chased off her attacker but had failed to catch him. He never seemed to quite follow through.
Josh pivoted and drew back as the woman’s fist rocketed toward his head. He ducked to one side, but his awkward stance kept him from moving fast enough. The solid blow caught him square on his cheekbone, shooting stars through his field of vision. A series of rapid blinks cleared his eyesight in time to watch her rear back for round two.
Steadying himself on the door frame, he caught her fist with his free hand, squeezing a little tighter than he would have if she hadn’t just coldcocked him. “Hey, hey. I’m the good guy. I promise.” Leftover adrenaline edged his words and clouded his vision.
She jerked her arm to free herself from his grip, and he eased up a little, recognizing the fringes of hysteria in her green eyes. “Look at me.” He dropped his voice to what he hoped was a soothing whisper, the one that used to work on his black lab during rocking thunderstorms. “Look at me. You’re safe.”
Her attention finally focused on him and, as the energy dissipated, he relaxed his hold on her hand only to tighten it again in a jolt of recognition. Andrea Donovan? The world couldn’t possibly be that small.
The way her jaw slackened spoke more than words. It was her. And what was more amazing...she recognized him, too.
“Josh Walker?” His name rode an exhale barely above a whisper, one that held as much incredulity as he felt.
Josh nodded once, his voice free-falling to the pit of his stomach. It was ridiculous he hadn’t recognized her sooner. It couldn’t be possible that the last time he’d laid eyes on Andrea had been right out of high school. Too many years ago. He should do now what he’d been so tempted to do then, pull her close and shield her from the pain that tried to beat its way into her life.
With a deep sigh and a shake of her head, Andrea extricated herself from his grip and stepped back. She winced and stumbled as her weight shifted to her right foot.
Josh reached out and grasped the arms of the woman he had tried so often to forget, keeping her from slumping to the floor. Shoving his shock aside, he focused on the task at hand. Blending the past with the present was more than his brain could handle at this point. “Take it easy. You took a pretty vicious twist when you whipped around on him. Nice blow to the jaw, by the way.” His lip curved into a wry smile. “His, not mine.” When she didn’t respond, his practiced eyes took in her pale face and tight lips. “You okay?”
Nodding, she let him open the door and lead her into the lobby where she sank down onto one of the brown pleather chairs in the small waiting room. “I’m fine.”
Her shaking hands said differently, but Josh kept his mouth shut. He had no right to ask more of her. And given her current agitation, she might decide to swing again.
“Where did you come from?” she asked him.
Josh knelt in front of her but kept his distance. “The parking lot.”
The look she fired his way let him know he’d completely misunderstood the question. “I meant how did you wind up here in my office?”
Yeah, it sent him reeling, too, seeing her out of context like this. He tapped his chest where his rank anchored to the front of his uniform. “First sergeant in Third Infantry. I joined the army during college.” He swallowed hard against rising memories about why he signed up, and switched gears on the conversation. “Any idea who that guy was?”
Still clearly on high alert, Andrea shook her head and stared at the door. Was it the attack or him that caused her muscles to tense?
His eyes followed hers, but there was no movement outside in the summer heat. After a quick scan to make sure no one lurked behind the lone car still out there, Josh pushed himself to his feet and glanced at the desk behind him. More than anything, he needed distance. “I’m going to call the police so they can be on the lookout. I can identify the car. Can you give them a description of the guy?”
The tremors moved from her hands, up her arms and through her body. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and looked up at him. “Definitely. And after you call the police you can call a locksmith. I locked my car keys in my office and the only other set is at my apartment.” Her lips twisted into a rueful, if shaky, smile. “And my apartment keys are on the same key ring. That just caps my day, doesn’t it? First I get jumped, and now I can’t go home.”
Her green eyes latched on to his, as if she was looking for confirmation that it was okay to relax. They were the color of those old-fashioned Coke bottles, clearer and purer than he remembered. For a second, Josh couldn’t break away, but he shook it off and forced himself to go make the call. She’d probably give him a black eye if she could read his thoughts. He’d seen her in action.
“So, Andrea.” It had been so many years since he’d spoken her name that it felt foreign on his tongue. “This is your office? You started this place?” The chaplain had passed on the information about the counseling center to his chain of command, but he’d never heard her name associated with it.
“Yeah.” She shuddered and flexed the fingers of the hand that had recently met his cheek. “I’m sorry I tried to deck you.”
“No worries. Given the circumstances, it’s understandable.” Josh bit back a smile as he picked up the phone and took note of the stack of business cards on the counter. Andrea Donovan. So she wasn’t married, unless she was one of those women who refused to take her husband’s name. Not that he should be noticing.
The name still fit her as it always had, soft and girlish at first glance, but tough on the next look. The admiration building in him quenched itself under a heavy dose of guilt. She wouldn’t have had to be tough if he’d have come to the rescue earlier. Then again, it looked as if she’d done a pretty good job of rescuing herself. Ten seconds more and she probably wouldn’t have needed him at all.
Or she’d have been dead. He shook off the thought. There was no sense living in what might have been, especially when God had definitely kept the worst from happening. And there was no other explanation for this bizarre twist to his day, no other reason for him to be here other than to watch
