“I’ll give it my best shot,” Reese promised, easing out of the booth and pulling the gray Stetson on his head.
Shay didn’t want to stare at him, but for a moment, she did. He was a tall man, capable looking, ruggedly handsome, his shoulders squared back with pride, his posture military. Reese might be down, but he was far from out. “How long have you been out of the Corps?”
“Two years.”
Nodding, Shay said, “That’s a long time . . .” and she was thinking that he’d fallen for two solid years. Most vets were in far worse condition at this point, in her experience. Shay sensed the mental toughness in Reese. She felt he could take more of life’s hard blows and still crawl forward instead of letting it pound him into the ground and destroy him, like it had so many others in similar circumstances. Toughness of spirit was the key to whether a vet kept fighting back or surrendered and gave up. Reese had not given up, from what she could tell. And maybe it was in his nature to be a fighter and scrapper. That would serve him well in the end. “Let’s go,” she murmured, gesturing for him to follow her. “It’s time for you to see your new home.”
“That has a nice ring to it,” he said, opening the door for her.
Shay gave him a glance. “Thanks. I know . . . it’s your manners.” She saw a partial grin leak out of the corner of his well-shaped mouth.
“Yes, it is,” he said. “And not much of that will ever change, so I guess you’re going to have to get used to being pampered a little here and there.”
A frisson of heat prickled at her nape, went to her breasts, and then flowed hotly down to her lower body. Reese had given her the look of a man appreciating his woman. How could that be? Flummoxed by the mixed signals he was giving her, Shay stepped out on the wooden decking of the plaza. A few brave tourists were ambling from one store to another. She felt him come up behind her, more than a little aware of his blatant masculinity.
Shay would have panicked if he had overtly flirted with her, but Reese hadn’t done that. He’d opened doors for her—a gentleman, a throwback to the days when women were treated with far more courtesy than they were today. She smiled to herself, leading him down the walkway to the parking lot behind Kassie’s Café. Reese Lockhart moved easily, with the grace of a mountain lion, at her side. And damned if Shay didn’t feel protection emanating off him toward her.
She had to remind herself that all military men were protectors and defenders at heart. Why else would they be in the armed forces? They were patriots, too. There was no way to ignore Reese. He walked silently, his boots soft footfalls against the wooden planking. Shay wondered if he had a black ops background. Maybe, with time and space, Reese would share the story of his fall from grace with her. Maybe . . .
Chapter Three
Reese tried to still the quiet joy thrumming through him as Shay drove the truck through Wind River and north on Highway 89A. Damn, he didn’t want to be drawn to Shay, but he was and there was nothing he could do about it. She was vulnerable in a way that made him want to reach out and protect her. It took a lot for anyone to be vulnerable nowadays. It told Reese of her internal strength and confidence in herself. And as she shared her transition from Marine to having to suddenly manage a ranch, he’d seen the stress of it all in her eyes. And yet, she was determined in ways he could only admire.
As he looked out the open window, the warmth of the May afternoon air flowing through the cab, he felt a huge load begin to dissolve off his shoulders. He needed this job so badly and was utterly grateful to this woman who he knew had PTSD herself. It wasn’t lost on Reese, because for the last two years he’d been involved with men and women vets on the street who had that same energy around them.
“How big is your ranch?”
“Ten thousand acres. My father ran Herefords on it. Actually, he leased a lot of it out to other ranchers during the summer months.” Shay shrugged. “The winters are long and hard, up in this area, Mr. Lockhart.”
“Can you call me Reese?” He gave her a look, and saw her lips curve a little.
“Of course.” She glanced at him. “Everyone is on a first-name basis with one another at the ranch. The guys call me Shay and I’d like you to do the same.” Her eyes sparkled. “Stop with the ma’am?”
His mouth cracked into a hint of a grin. “Yeah, I got that. I’ll work on it, but I might slip sometimes.”
“That’s okay, I understand. It’s hard sloughing off the military cape we wore. And in some ways, I never want to lose it.”