Snowbound with the Soldier. Jennifer Faye

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Snowbound with the Soldier - Jennifer  Faye

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gust of wind threw wet snow in his face, bringing him back to his senses. He shouldn’t be holding her. It was wrong to enjoy their closeness. He’d sacrificed that liberty years ago. And he was no longer the same man she’d once known.

      He held her at arm’s length. “You’re bleeding.”

      “I am? I don’t feel a thing.”

      He cupped her face in his hands. A crimson streak trailed from her forehead to her cheek. Please don’t let it be serious.

      “Are you sure? No headache? No double vision?”

      “Nothing.”

      Ever so gently he wiped away the blood with his thumb. When he found only a minor cut, he breathed a little easier. “Tell me if you start to feel bad.”

      She nodded.

      He pulled his phone from his pocket, punched in the numbers for help and held the device to his ear. After a few seconds, he moved, positioning the phone in front of him. “I can’t get a signal. Looks like we’re on our own.”

      She shivered, wrapping her arms around her midsection. “How will I get my car out of there?”

      He gave her a quick once-over. Aside from the small cut, he didn’t see any other signs of trauma. “The car’s not going anywhere tonight. And if you smelled gas, we aren’t taking any chances. The tow truck people can deal with it tomorrow.”

      Her body shook and her teeth chattered. “Now...what...am I going to do?”

      He worried about shock settling in. He was certain the accident had been horrific enough, but then to be trapped, even for a brief time, might have been too much for her.

      “My SUV’s up on the road. We need to get you warm.”

      He ushered her up the short embankment to his vehicle, which still had the engine running. After she climbed in, he reached behind the seat and pulled out a blanket. “This should warm you up.”

      He was about to close the door when she said, “Wait. I need my stuff from the car.”

      She started to climb back out, but he placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. “I’ll get your stuff. You wait here and turn up the heater.”

      “My purse is there...in the backseat...and my cell phone.”

      Jason closed the door and yanked his gloves from his pocket. He hobbled along, doing his best not to stumble on the uneven ground. The coldness seemed to freeze all but one of his thoughts: Kara. He’d missed her much more than he’d been willing to admit to himself. Between her pouty lips and soulful eyes, it was tempting to forget the demons that lurked in his past.

      But that couldn’t happen. He couldn’t let himself go soft in the brain. It wouldn’t be fair to her. Soon they’d be off this mountain, he assured himself. Once he gathered her belongings from the car, his only agenda was to deliver her safely to her doorstep and leave.

      He limped to the wrecked vehicle and ran the flashlight’s beam from trunk to hood. A sour taste rose in the back of his throat. In the military he’d witnessed the tangled metal wrecks and human carnage caused by IEDs, so this accident scene shouldn’t evoke a reaction—certainly nothing like the wave of nausea washing over him. But he couldn’t escape the fact that Kara could have died here tonight.

      He blocked the awful thought from his mind. She was safe, he assured himself. All he had to do now was retrieve her belongings and drive her home.

      * * *

      Long minutes ticked by before Jason reappeared in the glow of the headlights. Thank goodness he’s back. Soon she’d be home, snug and warm, with her family. Still, something struck her as not quite right. She gazed through the window, giving him a second, more intense inspection. She noticed he moved with a limp. The knowledge that he’d been hurt while rescuing her gave her pause.

      When he yanked the back door open, she asked, “Are you all right?”

      “I’m fine.”

      After placing her belongings on the backseat, he closed the door with a loud thud and climbed in beside her. It’d been a long time since they’d been together, but as close as they were physically, they’d never been so far apart in every other way. And it would remain that way. It was for the best.

      But that didn’t mean she could ignore his physical pain. “You aren’t fine. You were limping.”

      “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine after I rest my leg for a bit.”

      The lines etched around his eyes and mouth said the pain was more severe than he’d admitted. Once again he was holding back the truth.

      “Can I do anything—for your leg?”

      He shook his head. “The, uh, weather—it’s getting worse. We better get moving. Are you ready?”

      “Definitely. I’m anxious to get home. I don’t want my family to worry.”

      He yanked off his snow-covered hat and tossed it in the backseat. When he unbuttoned his coat, a fluff of pink fur poked out. Kara gaped at him. Nothing about him either in the past or now screamed pink fuzzy anything.

      He withdrew the object. “I found this on the floor in back when I was searching for your purse.”

      “Bubbles.” Her daughter must have forgotten the stuffed animal that morning, when Kara had dropped Samantha off at her grandparents’ house before school.

      “Huh?” Jason’s gaze darted from the teddy bear with Baby Girl embroidered on its belly to her. “Bubbles? Really?”

      Kara reached for the stuffed animal. “Something wrong with the name?”

      “Uh...no.” He tossed her the ball of fluff. “Not at all.”

      “Hey, it’s the color of bubble gum—hence the name Bubbles.”

      “Logical. I guess.”

      She glanced at him, expecting to find humor easing the tense lines marring his face, but his expression hadn’t changed. What had happened to the old Jason, the one with a thousand and one fast comebacks and an easy grin? Sadness burrowed into her chest. She mourned the boy who had always made a point of making her smile, even during the worst teenage crisis.

      She hugged Bubbles to her chest. “Thanks for rescuing him.”

      “The bear is really yours?” Suspicion laced every syllable. “You carry a baby’s toy around in your car?”

      She stared down at the bear. It had been her daughter’s very first stuffed animal. Even though Samantha had accumulated an army of plush toys over the years, she still reached for Bubbles when she was tired or upset.

      Kara considered pretending she hadn’t heard the question. However, she recalled how Jason had been worse than a hound dog rooting around for a bone when he wanted information. He would continue to hunt and dig until he found exactly what he was after.

      Maybe a glib answer would

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