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“I bet the boss won’t mind if we have some fun with ‘er. You reckon?” the more stout one added.

I shook my head, kicking out toward them all while they continued to laugh. The two of them crouched on either side of me and leaned closer, their hot, sticky breath caressing my skin. I let out a muffled cry for help and a few other bandits joined in on their amusement.

And then, a single gunshot and scream rang out from the very edge of the camp. Chaos erupted around me and the two drunken fools tossed their bottle to the side in a desperate panic. I let out a cry of fear and ducked down as fighting filled the once-empty air.

A shadow moved, quick as a rattlesnake, across the outskirts of camp. One by one, the outlaws fell, cries and grunts the only sounds they were able to make before the figure helped them meet their swift and bitter ends. Only two bursts of gunfire were able to ignite from the bandits before they were all snuffed out and the night grew still again.

I stared at the lone gunslinger, now silhouetted by the firelight. His cowboy hat hung low over his eyes, a bandana shrouding the lower part of his face. His clothes were all black and his demeanor matched his outfit. Death, I thought to myself, had come to this place. And He was no otherworldly being, but a man; this man in front of me.

The desperado stepped closer, eyes aglow from the crackling firepit. A blade glinted in his hands and I trembled. Was he out for more blood? Was he here to save me? I began to cry out around the cloth in my mouth as he approached, his corded arms taut and glistening.

“Easy, darlin’,” he murmured, voice low and gravelly. “Stay nice and still.”

I had no choice but to do as he said. Even if I hadn’t been bound and weaponless, this man was far too strong for me to fight. The filthy criminals who’d stolen me away had been much weaker than he, and I hadn’t stood a chance against any of them. This man had just taken them all on and barely broken a sweat. I would’ve been a goner.

I felt his fingers dust across the back of my head and I flinched, but he shushed me. Moments later, the gag fell from my mouth and my wrists were cut free from their bindings. Instead of staying put, I tried to scramble away, but the man caught my arm in his leather-gloved hand.

“Where do you think you’re goin’ Miss?”he rumbled, eyes dark and mysterious.

“Emma?” my shift manager called.

I gasped, swallowing my surprise. I turned my Kindle off so quick, it nearly slipped out of my hands. I set the device under our log book before he made it out to the front desk, my heart in my throat.

“Mornin’ Patrick,” I smiled, spinning around in my chair to look at him.

He gave me his quick, assessing look before sighing softly. “Did you fill the coffee maker yet?”

“Yep! Set out your favorite pod ‘n everything,” I replied.

Finally, he grinned just a bit and nodded. “Keep up the good work, Yank.” He turned and shuffled away, yawning loudly.

Patrick was a fine boss, but he ain’t hit a lick at a snake in years. Of course, the rest of us on rotations knew how to pick up his slack. We all knew he didn’t much like being on bedpan duty or helping to feed our patients, so we made do. And with how lively this place was, I was fine to have the bits of mundanity. Nevermind that I stole my own moments away from it all to read now and then; but I’d never be caught dead sleeping in the break room like he was every day.

My newest book, The Desperado of Devil’s Point, was already good enough that I considered spending my lunch break reading instead of with my friends down in the mess hall. Lanie really nailed the recommendation for me; I had barely set it down all day. Every moment I’d had to myself, I’d been nose-deep in it. I was a sucker for a mysterious love interest, and the western setting? Not to mention the promise of spice. It was ticking all the boxes of an Emma-favorite.

“Oh,” Patrick’s voice rang back down the hall and I felt my cheeks heat; had he heard my thoughts somehow? “Don’t forget, you’ve got that meeting with one of the captains today. About that SAS bloke in 139.”

Damn, I’d almost forgotten about that. “I think I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached. Thank you!”

I could hear his little snort as he walked off to grab his coffee but I paid it no mind. I opened my phone and scrolled to my calendar. Sure enough, Tuesday, the fourteenth at seven sharp, a meeting with one John Price. But when I clicked on the event, the only thing in the description was ‘performance conversation’. I barely knew the man, let alone reported to him, so I had no clue what this was all about. I didn’t question it though. Patrick was probably right, he was probably asking about his sergeant’s progress.

I whistled softly for a moment, hastily swapping over to my messages. Zach had sent me a goodnight slash good morning text a few hours ago and I smiled down at it. He’d also called a couple times, but I giggled to myself as I reread our messages about the mix up. If I tried, I could hear his familiar drawl in my head and it set a piece of me at ease.

It was hard for him to remember our flipped schedules, especially when I was on and off. With the time difference between here and home, it made it even harder. But he’d struggled with my nursing rotation back when I was in school, too. Farm work kept him for such long hours in the heat and I knew that, had seen him at it for years. And now that summer was coming to a close, I knew he was busy with weaning and sale prep. So I didn’t have the heart to hold his forgetfulness against him.

My head was awash with cattle facts from Zach as I did a final sweep of my floor. I had Alan post up at the front desk and packed my Kindle away in my bag before heading down to Captain Price’s office. Plenty of soldiers were just now milling about, yawning and stretching as they went. A few folks I’d helped in the medical wing waved to me and I returned the gesture with enthusiasm. A couple of them tried to stay and chat, but I promised a lunch date to make up for it; the last thing I needed was to be late to this meeting.

I read each plaque on the office doors as I reached the admin building. My tennis shoes clicked off the polished tile as I hurried, checking my watch. I was still ten minutes early, but if he was an early prepper like me, I wanted to respect his time. So thankfully, with four minutes to spare, I found myself beside his door.

I checked my reflection in the blacked out pane of glass there. I looked a bit flushed, but that was to be expected. My hair was still mostly slicked back in my ponytail. The baby hairs on the top of my head were a bit unruly, but curly hair never liked humid climates. So rainy London didn’t do me many favors.

I threaded my fingers through the few bumps and straightened out my scrubs. If I would’ve remembered the meeting, I would have packed my uniform to change into. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind too much. But I didn’t have any more time to worry as his door swung open at seven on the dot.

Captain Price stepped out into the hall and spotted me immediately, sporting a curt grin. His mutton chops looked recently combed, but there were bags under his eyes. I don’t think I’d ever seen a captain who didn’t sport those signs of lost sleep. It made my heart ache for him a little, but I said nothing and smiled widely at him in return.

“Good morning, Captain,” I said, sticking my hand out. “I know we’ve chatted over in my neck of the woods, but I’m—”

“Lieutenant Martin. It’s good to see you. Thanks for joining me so early,” he cut in, shaking my hand solidly.

“Oh, it’s not a problem at all! This is late for me, sir,” I replied, following him into his office. “I’m currently working firsts in the ward.”

He settled into his seat with a soft huff and the sound reminded me of my dad when he’d plop down into his recliner. I didn’t dare mention that or let the fondness show much on my face. This was a very important man with an agenda I still didn’t quite understand.

“Well, I’m glad all the same.” His fingers fluttered over a few different files that covered his messy yet organized desk. “So, how’s my soldier doing?”

I knew who he meant, how could I not? Soap was the sweetest patient I’d had since taking my job here. Every day since he’d woken up, he greeted me with a kind smile and a wave of his good hand. ‘How’s my favorite nurse?’ he’d say, even as I poked and prodded at his injuries. Him and his sweetheart were so adorable; there wasn’t a thing about them I didn’t like. Well, maybe when they got in good trouble every so often, but they were cute enough about it all that I didn’t mind gently reprimanding them.

I didn’t figure that was what the captain wanted to hear about, though. “He’s doing pretty well. You know about his concussion clearance, and that hole in his side is doing great. Still some complaints of straining when he stands and moves, but not near as much as last week.”

Before I could get to the not-so-great news, he cleared his throat, fingers bridged in front of his lips. “And his shoulder?”

My positivity waned a little. “Well, it’s progressin’,” I began.

“Be honest. In your professional opinion, will he ever be fit for field duty again?”

I pursed my lips, not expecting such a heavy conversation before I could even ask how he was doing today. But maybe I should have; he was a captain after all. So I straightened up and felt myself slip into clinical mode.

“I’ve seen worse cases than his. But to recover to a point where he can get back out there, he’ll need a lot of physical therapy.”

The captain hummed deeply, his bushy eyebrows furrowing. “And how long would that take?”

I blinked for a moment. That was quite the question. “Well, that depends on how well he responds to it. But generally, six months to a year.”

Again, the man gave a rumble of thought. He was like a bear just out of hibernation. The observation lightened my mood.

“I was thinking you’d say something like that.” And then he flipped open a folder. I watched as he licked his thumb and leafed through quite a few different pages. “Lieutenant Emma Martin, you’ve got quite the résumé.”

My eyes widened and I leaned forward, glancing at the pages he set down. One of them looked like my master’s transcript, another my literal résumé. There were many more things, articles and what looked to be a couple pictures from my time at UK. I nearly blushed as I realized that this man knew much more about me than probably anyone else on this base. I felt a bit silly, but I wasn’t sure why.

“You were top of your class since high school, a full-ride scholarship recipient, captain of your cheer team, and haven’t stopped taking classes since you graduated. That’s dedication.”

“Well,” I blushed deeply, playing with my hair, “my parents are hard workers. I just picked it up from them. A-and I love what I do.”

He huffed out a soft laugh, smiling softly. “And you’re humble.” But that sounded more like he was telling himself that rather than me.

“You’ve got raving reviews here too. Professors, colleagues, and even the director of the hospital you did your clinicals in. I bet you could’ve gone just about anywhere with all this. So why here?”

I began to sweat, face going rosy. I let out a soft laugh, trying to collect my thoughts. Was he interviewing me right now?

“Well, my dad knew some folks and while I was doing my grad program, they held this position for me, which was very kind of them. But I wasn’t picky about where I went; I just wanted to help people.”

“It says here your father served.”

“Mhmm, yes sir. Honorable discharge from an injury. Seein’ him go through his struggles after the military really made me want to help other soldiers.”

He tapped his fingers against the desk, looked at me, and then hummed again. “I see your physical therapy certification here,” he replied, as if reading my mind. This man was sharp as a tack. I liked him.

“It’s come in real handy ‘round here.”

“I bet it has,” he said, voice filled with thought. My own thoughts drifted back to Soap.

“I’ve been workin’ with your sergeant already on some of the basics. Testing his reactions and nerves.”

His little grin got wider and he sipped at a mug on his desk. It smelled like a nice, warm tea. “And?”

“If he sticks to exercises with me, I think his prognosis would be quicker than a year.” I giggled softly. “He’s got a real strong spirit, as I’m sure you know.”

“Better than most,” he sighed. And this his brows furrowed. I almost smiled as his gruff exterior vanished just for a moment.

“If you’d like, I can set up regular check-ins with you, sir. I’m always happy to help clear up information around here, ‘specially when it comes to chains of command.”

He blinked for a moment. Maybe he was thinking I was one of those brown-nosers, but I hoped my bright smile was enough to show him I was serious. I really did want to make things as easy as possible.

“That’d be great, thanks. Typed reports are best.”

I nodded. “Typed reports it is.”

There was a gentle pause where he looked back over all the information on his desk and then looked at me. It didn’t feel like I was in trouble, but I still wasn’t clear on anything. Why did he have my file, and why did he care about all that? Maybe he just wanted to make sure his sergeant was in good hands, but the fact he’d brought out everything made me wonder. But I didn’t ask.

“Well,” he said, like I was back at home and the family was about to leave. All he was missing was a slap to both his knees. “I think that covers everything. Thank you for coming by, Lieutenant.”

I stood at the same time he did, still a bit confused. “My pleasure, Captain. Oh, and you don’t have to call me lieutenant if you don’t want. Emma’s always fine with me.”

His lips parted for a moment and it looked like he swallowed a few words. But then he smiled again. “Ah, well, next time I see you in the medical wing, maybe.”

Old-fashioned. I liked it. “Sounds good. I’ll keep an eye out for you and your team.”

He walked me to the door and opened it for me. As I left, I looked back once, but the door clicked shut just as I turned. What a strange meeting.

I hummed softly to myself as I returned to the office. I realized we were about two minutes from visitation hours, so I pulled out my keys and got to unlocking the front door. No need to make Alan do it if I was right here.

Near silent footsteps approached and I grinned. No one else came by at this hour, especially not before the doors opened. It was Soap’s girl, Hannah. I knew it was. Every morning for damn near a month, she’d been here from sun up to sundown, real dedicated to being there for him. She was a quiet thing, real intense eyes and a scary aura to her. But the second she saw him each morning, all that spiny exterior disappeared. The way she doted on a man as bulky as Soap was endearing, and I could tell they loved each other a lot. If I thought she would take it well, I might even tell her that someday.

As I spun around to her, I said, “well good mornin’, sweetheart. I feel like I just saw you a few…” I froze.

It wasn’t Hannah.

Instead, it was that man. The one in the skull mask. He towered over my tiny self, probably a foot and some change taller. In the low light of the morning, his dark eyes were shrouded, danger rolling off him in his all black attire. His thick arms were coiled and crossed across his chest and his head tilted down, down, down until he was staring into my soul.

“...Oh, hi there. I thought you were someone else,” I smiled somewhat nervously. “Lieutenant Riley, right?”

“Ghost.”

My grin faltered for a moment. God, his voice was always so sharp and deep. Like a demon or something. And paired with that mask, he was downright intimidating. I swallowed hard and plastered the grin back onto my face. “Well, Ghost. I bet you’re here to see your friend. I can take you back to see him now, if you’d like?”

He nodded curtly.

I decided to keep my lips pressed together as I checked out the visitor’s lanyard for him and led him down the hall. He didn’t say a word, becoming no more than a shadow as he trailed a step behind me. The other nurses stared at him, faces wary, and that was the moment something in my chest twisted. I glanced from him to Patrick as we all crossed paths, noticing just how much my supervisor seemed to shrink away from the man.

Sure, he looked like a force to be reckoned with, but he was never mean or disrespectful. Curt and quiet, sure. Intimidating, absolutely. But maybe he was just a bit misunderstood. My eyes slid to him one more time as we arrived at Soap’s room. As I saw him lean on the doorframe, his coffee brown eyes lit with the early morning light trickling through the far window, I decided I wasn’t going to be scared of him. I was going to figure him out; he was just a man after all. And maybe one day, I’d get this behemoth of a man to say more than two words to me.

Yeah, that was my new goal. Because if my momma’d call me anything, it was too friendly. And I was a firm believer that there was no such thing.

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