flooded her when a message appeared that said: “Due to family emergencies, we are unable to process orders at this time. We apologize for any inconvenience. Please check back next season.”
“So sad.” Chloe determined that minute to get Ivan to the point where he could work on his chess sets again.
More pictures scrolled across the screen. Chloe’s heart melted at the images of family and friends that came in and out of focus with the slide show.
“That must be Ivan’s late wife. Chance has his mom’s smile.” Speaking of Chance, image after image of him rolled across the screen. Some recent, some not.
“Wow. Ivan is really proud of his son.” She wondered if Chance knew all these photos were on here.
She giggled at one of Chance holding a stringer of catfish. “He looks about ten years old here. And severely sunburned.”
Another image scrolled. Chance in full dress blues. “Wow. Air Force guy. I must admit, he is so handsome he takes my breath away.”
The next image caused her face to flush. Must be recent because it was Chance, looking similar to now, on a lake in a fishing boat with Brock.
She leaned in, very close. They were both shirtless and standing in camouflage shorts flexing ballooned biceps, wash-board bellies and goofy grins.
She cleared her throat and grabbed papers off the table, then proceeded to fan herself furiously with them.
Thankfully, he was not shirtless in the next few photos. Those big, bulky guys must be part of his team. PJs or Pararescue Jumpers, Mandy had called them.
She’d look pararescue up after perusing Ivan’s site and chart and formulating a written game plan. Images on the family-owned business site caused even more compassion to well up.
“Midnight, good buddy, we really have to work on Ivan. Okay? Starting tomorrow, let’s do our best to help him get as much of his life back as possible.”
The dog licked her hand, which she normally wouldn’t allow. But she hadn’t paid much attention to him today.
Giggling, Chloe got down on the living room floor and played until they were both worn out. Then she took him for his evening walk and readied for bed.
She wrestled with her pillow. Flopped, tossed, turned. The more she thought about Ivan and Chance and the family photos and all they’d lost when they lost Chance’s mother and Ivan suffered his stroke, the more sleep eluded her. Turning her pillow to the cool side didn’t help.
Ivan’s Web site had given her intimate glimpses into their lives. And the Pararescue Jumpers site gave her a peek into the life of Chance, a true hero. The man who was becoming frighteningly intriguing to her and who felt far too familiar and fascinating for the little time they’d spent together.
And it seemed clear that the interest ran both ways.
Certainly the attraction did because she caught him checking her out every time she turned around, the same way she did him when he wasn’t looking, which wasn’t often.
This man was a rare breed. One who was, as their pararescue creed stated, willing to risk his life for others. The creed scrolled through her mind and left her more unsettled.
It is my duty as a pararescueman to save life and aid the injured. I will be prepared at all times to perform my assigned duties quickly and efficiently, placing these duties before personal desires and comforts. These things I do, “That Others May Live.”
That creed also meant he’d never give up his duty for any woman. Not even his wife. Just like her dad, his career would always come first.
Nevertheless, her determination to be involved in this family was about Ivan, not about Chance and not about her. She must really be tired. Otherwise her brain wouldn’t have brought the ridiculous and very premature concept of marriage into the mix.
If Ivan didn’t start rehabbing soon, he’d never regain use of his hand, which meant he’d never build his beloved chess sets again.
This case was time sensitive, and she owed Mandy a major favor. More than that, she’d come to care for Ivan.
Ivan had been worse than ever in his resistance this week. But that only fed her dogged determination. Even though time with Chance’s father cut severely into her planning and research time, plus the other work she needed to do to launch the animal-assisted therapy program proposal.
Chloe shook her head and punched her fist into her pillow, trying to get comfortable. No matter what opposition bounded in her path, she was determined not to let anything prevent her from going back. Slowly, she closed her eyes, plans marching across her vision as she drifted off to sleep.
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