Cowboys & Navy SEALs

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

N ights were the hardest, the time when the terrors of the past rose like mountainous shadows, blocking out even the tiniest sliver of light. In his dreams, the dank scent of the jungle filled his nostrils and caused sweat to boil over his nose. His heart pounded out a haphazard beat as he clutched the sheet with his fist, trying to regulate his breathing. He’d dreamt of his captivity in Syria, suffered the hollow gnawing of his empty stomach, choked on the rancid water, felt the sinking desperation of fear that he wouldn’t make it out of there alive.

His only consolation had been the camaraderie of his fellow SEALs. He was grateful his buddies were part of Sutton’s private security team. The offer had been a package deal, all of them or none. Maddox was grateful for this new chapter in his life. He just wished he could lick this infernal PTSD. While it was his greatest desire to move forward and leave the past behind, his mind couldn’t seem to get the memo.

Maddox took in a breath, willing his body to relax. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Why had the PTSD hit him tonight? Maybe it was because he was worried that he wouldn’t be able to protect Addie from whatever was coming. A shiver slithered down his spine, causing the sweat on his brow to run cold. Today had been a close call. Had he arrived a few minutes later, Addie would’ve been gone. He had to remain vigilant and not let his personal feelings for Addie prevent him from protecting her.

He was on a pallet beside Addie’s bed. He’d lain awake long after she’d fallen asleep, thinking about her. Something had shifted when Sutton’s men came to get the attacker. Addie had become withdrawn, cool. He knew she was fighting her own demons about Jordan and Piper, but he got the feeling that her change in attitude had something to do with him. Addie was a hard woman to figure out. One minute he felt like they were getting closer and the next, there was a skyscraper-sized barrier between them.

He propped his arms behind his head, noting with satisfaction that his breathing had returned to normal. Relaxation techniques helped tremendously. And it didn’t hurt to have something other than his own past to focus on. He grinned thinking how he didn’t mind shifting his thoughts to Addie. He cocked his ears to listen for her breathing.

Silence.

Panic seized him as he sat up. He glanced toward the window and saw a flash of lightning. A second later, a loud clap of thunder sounded.

“Hey,” Addie said, sleep coating her voice. “It’s stormy.”

“Yeah.” The wind picked up, sending rain splattering against the window. He angled to face her bed. Another flash of lightning lit the room. He caught the outline of her face and realized she’d scooted to the edge of the bed and was lying on her side, looking down at him. A deep ache trickled through his body. It was torture being this close to the woman he loved when he couldn’t take her in his arms. “How long have you been awake?”

“Long enough to hear you mumbling in your sleep. What language were you speaking?”

Crap! There was no telling what he’d said. Often the dreams were so terrible that he woke up screaming. “Arabic.”

“I’ll bet it was terrible over there.”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“How did you survive?”

He let out a long breath. “The only way I could—one day at a time.” She’d probably laugh him to scorn if she realized how often he’d thought of her while he was in captivity. It was his favorite area of refuge that his brain could go to.

Thunder boomed, shaking the cabin. Rain poured onto the roof, sounding like endless nails pinging the shingles.

“I love the sound of the rain.” Her voice had an ethereal quality like she was still partway in a dream.

He punched his pillow to adjust it and lay back down, trying to find a comfortable spot. “I remember.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I remember everything about you.”

“Such as?”

He smiled at the note of interest in her voice. “You have an insatiable appetite for salty fries and mint chocolate chip ice cream.”

“Speaking of which, that sounds really good right now.”

He chuckled. “I don’t know about the fries, but I could go for some ice cream.”

“We’ll have to pick some up tomorrow.”

“Good idea.”

“What else?” she prompted.

“Your level-head and forthright personality make you an excellent manager.”

“Thanks,” she said with gusto, and he got the feeling she was smiling.

He laughed to himself knowing this next one would set her off. Teasing Addie was immensely rewarding because she always rose to the bait. “You couldn’t be on time if your life depended on it.”

“Hey,” she countered, “that’s not true.”

He suspected her lower lip was thrust out in a pout. “Uh, huh,” he drawled. “You know it is.”

She grunted. “For your information, I’ve been trying to do better about that. Moron,” she added in a sulky tone.

“Touché,” he laughed.

“What else?” she demanded, a definite edge to her voice.

He grinned. “Let’s put it this way … if you looked up stubborn in the dictionary, your picture would be right next to it.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“Am not!” she huffed. “Take it back!”

“What’s wrong, Addie?” he goaded. “You can’t stand to hear the truth?”

“The truth is that you’re a big, fat jerk wad!” He heard a flurry of movement, realized she’d sat up. A second later, she was flogging him with her pillow.

Laughter rose in his throat. “Hey, now.” He raised his hands to shield his head. A second later, he grabbed the pillow.

“Give it back,” she ordered.

“Not on your life.” He put it under his head, stacked on top of his other pillow. “Yeah, that’s much better,” he drawled. “The other pillow you gave me was flatter than roadkill under a semi-truck.”

She sniggered, then burst out laughing. “You’re such a moron,” she said in a singsong voice. “Can I have my pillow back?” she asked sweetly.

“I don’t think so, sugar lips.”

She groaned. “Sugar lips? Seriously? What else do you remember about me?”

“No matter how often you watch those silly Christmas movies on the Hallmark channel, you cry at the end.”

“True,” she conceded, “but who doesn’t?”

“I don’t.”

She smirked. “Yeah, because you’re a hardened Navy SEAL.”

“Ex-Navy SEAL,” he corrected.

“The name may’ve changed, but the job’s still the same.”

The tone of the conversation had shifted faster than the government in a third world country. He cringed at the bite in Addie’s voice. There it was—the one thing they could never get beyond, his profession.

“Superman has to save the world,” she said dourly.

He stiffened. “As Irish philosopher Edmund Burke said, ‘The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is forgood mentodo nothing.’” This was met with a stony silence that crawled over him like a dozen hornets. “I’ll have you know that I’m doing a lot of good.”

“Yeah, you’re humble about it too,” she shot back. “You sure you’re not on some thrill-seeking ride? Running from real-life responsibility?”

The game was afoot now, each of them volleying to get their point across. “Not everyone who joins the SEALs is running from something. Some are running to something.”

“Or using it as penance.”

The comment was a knife in the gut. Addie knew him too well, knew how to hit him where it hurt the most. His eyes narrowed. “You sound just like my mama.”

“How’s your mama, by the way?” she said lightly. “Is she still the belle of the country club?”

He grunted. “More like the queen.”

Addie laughed. “Yep, she rules the roost, for sure.”

“Like somebody else I know,” he muttered under his breath.

“I love your mama. She’s a hoot.”

“She loves you too.” Even though Maddox and Addie had never spoken of marriage, his mama was already picking out invitations and planning the wedding when Addie dumped him. His mama was almost as devastated about the breakup as he was. Not really, but she was crazy about Addie.

“Is your daddy still trying to get you to become an attorney and join his firm?”

“No, he gave up on that years ago,” he said mechanically, still smarting over Addie’s jab. Darkness cocooned around him, making it easier to open a conversation about sensitive issues. “You know, you shouldn’t keep blaming me for Corbin’s mistakes. He’s the one who ran out on you. I didn’t.” He was tempted to add that Addie was the one who gave up on them, not the other way around.

“And you shouldn’t spend the rest of your life feeling guilty about B. J.’s death. Time to move on,” she snipped.

He flinched. “Had I known you were gonna keep throwing B. J. in my face, I never would’ve told you about him.”

“Yeah, well, the same goes for Corbin.”

The chasm between them expanded larger than the ocean as they lay there like defiant warriors, refusing to give up their ground. His thoughts went to B. J. In his high school days, Maddox was an extreme sports fanatic and dreamed of one day making it to the X Games. That all changed the day B. J. was killed in a dirt biking accident. Maddox and B. J. were determined to prove which of them was the toughest. They started out jumping makeshift ramps and hills. As the day wore on, the challenges got greater until finally Maddox dared B. J. to jump a creek. Maddox went first and cleared it without issue. B. J., however, wasn’t as lucky. He fell short of the goal and his bike took a nose-dive. B. J. was thrown off his bike. He was rushed to the hospital where he died a few days later.

Maddox had opened up to Addie, sharing his anguish and guilt over B. J.’s death. He drifted aimlessly for the next few years, became a menace, in and out of trouble with the law. His dad had to bail him out of jail a few times. Eventually, Maddox got himself straightened out and traveled the world, taking on freelance writing and photography projects. It was easier to wander strange lands and learn about other cultures than it was to stay in Alabama and worry about his own problems. When that ran its course and he could no longer find any fulfillment in it, Maddox joined the Navy. Yeah, maybe his entry into the SEALs was at first fueled by a desire for penance, but as a SEAL, he’d found his life’s purpose. Now, that purpose continued as he worked for Sutton’s security company.

Two weeks ago, on his first assignment, Maddox and his former SEALs saved the life of a young daughter of a diplomat who’d been kidnapped for ransom. He clenched his jaw. As much as he loved Addie, he couldn’t give up who he was for her. Doing that would mean running the risk of losing himself and his newfound purpose. The problem was, he still hadn’t figured out how to live without Addie. She consumed his thoughts every day. Now that he was here with her, the longing intensified to the point where he could hardly stand it. He wanted both—his profession and Addie. Was that too much to ask for?

He turned over so his back was to her. A good night’s sleep was what he needed more than anything. Nights were the hardest. It would all look better in the morning.

“I’m sorry I brought up B. J.” Her voice was melancholy, ponderous.

He grunted in surprise. The sincerity of her words circled around him, and he felt himself soften. He let out a sigh. No sense in harboring grudges. “It’s all right. I’m sorry I brought up Corbin.” Even though Addie had forgiven Corbin for leaving home when her grandmother got sick, she still carried the scars.

“No problem.” She paused long enough for him to wonder if she’d say anything else. “For what’s it’s worth, I’m sorry,” she added, her voice cracking.

He turned to face her. “Sorry for what?” Thunder rattled the window.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more like Felicity.”

It was all he could do to halt the incredulous laugh before it escaped his mouth. “What?”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough to be there for you through thick and thin.”

He swallowed, processing what she’d said. His heart clutched as emotion lodged thick in his throat. A single tear trickled down his cheek. “Adelaide Spencer, you’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met.”

Her voice grew strangled. “If that were true, we’d still be together now.”

“It’s not too late,” he said quietly. He held his breath, waiting for her to respond, feeling as though everything were hanging in the balance. One second crawled by … two …

“Goodnight,” she croaked.

He swallowed his disappointment. “Goodnight,” he clipped, hoping the monotony of the falling rain would help him go back to sleep.