Thirteen
Chapter One
Decorated military veteran turned civilian trauma nurse Kate Dalton was known for keeping a cool head under fire. But she’d never faced anything like this.
Here she was, back in the United States, biting back bile and terror as strong as any she’d experienced overseas. When she was in a combat situation, she was braced and prepared for things to go wrong. Here at home, her guard was down. Ten minutes earlier, she’d been enjoying the reception at her friends’ masquerade-themed marriage ball. But then the text message arrived.
Phone clutched like a pinless grenade, Kate strode from the wedding reception room to the nearest exit. There. Patio. Best way out. If she could get there before hurling blissfully consumed cake.
Regal-hued LED lights danced over her sapphire costume and skin tanned by a three-year deployment under Middle Eastern sun. She probably looked striking—if you didn’t notice the tension in her shoulders or the frown on her face.
“Breathe, Dalton, that’s an order. You can’t fall apart. Especially not where everyone you know can see you. You don’t break down. You don’t give in to fear. That’s not who you are.”
Despite her drill-sergeant self-talk, Kate’s thumb quivered as it scrolled again over Mom’s frustratingly cryptic text.
I’m afraid I have some upsetting news. Call me when you’ve got time to talk.
Unable to wait, Kate had found a quiet corner of the room and called immediately, but Mom was too distraught to talk. Mom never cried. Something was really wrong. Worse, Dad wasn’t answering his personal or military phones.
Terrible scenarios raced through her head. Had something happened to her father? Or to her grandfather, who was scheduled for surgery? She knew the procedure was risky already—her career-military grandfather had ruined his lungs inhaling so much military jet fuel over the years. Had there been another complication? Or maybe her parents had bad medical news of their own. Cancer, heart disease...the possibilities went on and on.
Kate couldn’t breathe. Her chest tightened, eyes burned. She rushed out a side door hoping no one saw. She couldn’t be around people right now, not until she composed herself. In a secluded corner of a low-lit garden patio, she hid under an ornamental fuchsia tree. Heaving fresh Southern Illinois air, she redialed her mother’s number.
An answering click, then sniffles sounded. Kate’s jaw clenched. “I’m not getting off this phone till you tell me what’s going on. Don’t make me leave my good friends’ wedding to drag it out of you.”
“The wedding! I forgot, Kate. I shouldn’t have texted you.”
“Did something happen to Dad?” He was a deployed war general, sure, but he hadn’t been near danger, had he?
“No. Your dad is safe. It’s...honey, it’s us.”
“What’s ‘us’ mean?” Kate paced. “Me and you? You and Dad?”
“Your dad and I. I didn’t want to tell you by phone, but I fly out in the morning for Grandpa’s hip recovery. That’ll keep me out of touch for days, and I don’t want you hearing secondhand. Kate, I need to tell you, your dad and I are divorcing.”
“Div—” Kate choked on the last word she expected to hear. Surely Mom is kidding. Right? Her mind couldn’t wrap around it.
“Kate, Grandma’s calling in, probably with a surgery update on Grandpa. We’ll talk later, okay? I love you.” Click.
Teeth grinding, Kate redialed Dad, stat.
“Hello?”
Finally! “Dad?” Kate hated that her voice broke in front of her five-star military hero dad. “Please tell me it’s not true.”
A deep sigh. “I’m sorry. She served me papers today.”
Kate’s voice and composure broke. “Daddy, why?”
“Your mom can’t handle me overseas all the time. She waited to break the news until she was sure. Kate, are you okay?”
“Not with this. She texted me while I was at a wedding.”
“Mitch, your surgeon friend, right? He’s one of the ones who founded Eagle Point Trauma Center, isn’t he? I remember now. Kate, sorry about the poor timing. With her dad so ill, your mom probably wasn’t thinking. Neither am I.”
“Clearly. You both aren’t thinking. How can you flippantly throw thirty years of marriage away? Our family? And to do it now, when we might be losing Grandpa. Daddy, don’t let—”
A presence stirred behind her, and Kate froze. “Gotta go,” she barked out, suddenly eager to end the conversation as quickly as possible. “I’ll call later, okay?” The last thing Kate wanted was to ruin the festive mood of Lauren and Mitch’s wedding by letting one of the guests overhear her having a breakdown. Or let anyone see this crack in her tough-girl image. She never cried. Ever. Not even in the worst combat scenarios overseas or trauma cases here.
Kate flicked a tear but others followed. “Nice night out,” she called to the tall shadow over her shoulder. She pretended to gaze at brilliant stars glittering against a raven sky to keep from turning and letting whoever was there see her tears.
No answer—not out loud. Instead, the figure moved; a strong hand weighted her shoulder and turned her around. Heady masculine cologne mingled with pleasant garden scents. Kate tucked her chin to hide red-rimmed eyes, but a leather-gloved finger lifted her face.
Oh, my. The most gorgeous, mysterious man stood before her. What she could see of his masked face seemed carved from exquisite stone. His eyes, etched in ebony and concern, were so piercing they arrested her breath. His impressive height strained her neck as her eyes skimmed a firm jaw and sensual mouth and a muscular build that showed serious dedication to fitness.
Silent as a sniper, he removed her fancy feather mask and dabbed her eyes with a blue camouflage-patterned kerchief, the item odd and out of place with his all-black Zorro-type ensemble.
“Thank you.” She hated how her warbling voice revealed how she was falling apart. What did the masked intruder want, anyway? “May I help you?”
Dark eyes bored into hers, so intense she startled backward. Embarrassed by her reaction, she opened her mouth to apologize and found herself rambling instead. “I must look raccoonish with mascara running down my face. I didn’t even bother to buy the waterproof kind—I wasn’t expecting to cry. Not that I’m not happy for Mitch and Lauren, it’s just...I don’t cry.” She let out a brittle laugh. “Except
