Chapter Thirteen
Tara had surprised herself with her unexpected outburst as they ate their lunch. Harper sat back, both brows moving upward.
“Well,” she sputtered, “you are a prize! You’re loved by many people, Harper. Don’t you take them into account, also? Why do you listen to one person’s viewpoint on you, take it to heart and not listen to the many, many others who know you to be a good man?” Her voice was quavering with emotion, but she didn’t care. Leaning forward, Tara poked him in the vest he wore. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that about yourself again. Okay? Because it’s not true! You were a good person before you met Olivia and it sure as hell hasn’t changed after you divorced her. One person’s opinion of you shouldn’t count for more than another person’s. You have so many other people who truly like and love you, Harper. You do so much for everyone else. That’s rare nowadays because many people have become self-centered and selfish, but you aren’t and you never have been.” She sat back, breathing raggedly, staring hard at him, just daring him to refute anything she’d just said. Her hands curved into fists on her knees for a moment and then she forced herself to relax.
Harper studied her beneath his short, spiky lashes. His mouth drew into a wry half smile. “Remind me to hire you next time I need a more balanced view of the world,” he teased.
“I meant every word I said, Sutton, so don’t think this is funny, because it isn’t. You’re hitting a nerve in me. I truly dislike anyone who would put someone else down. I’ve stuck up for myself, and I’ve stuck up for others, all my life. You’re important to so many people. You need to be reminded of that. Olivia’s snarky, self-serving comments that tore you up don’t account for anything. She used you as her whipping post, not the other way around.” She saw his eyes widen slightly, giving her a shrewd look.
“Were you born this way, Tara?”
Scowling, she snapped, “What way?”
“Defender of the poor, the lonely and the helpless?”
She realized he was gently mocking her, but not in an unkind fashion. There was a burning look in his darkening gray eyes that made her yearn for him in every possible way. He was close to her physically, as well as emotionally, in that charged moment. Tara wanted to feel his mouth against hers once more. Since the bear incident, they hadn’t kissed at all. It was as if the PTSD had thrown both into opposite corners and had stunted the intimacy that had sprung up between them.
“Yes,” she said, all the petulance leaking out of her voice, “I do stick up for those people who need support. We all need help at times, Harper. My mom and dad are that way, too. I saw them help many people while I was growing up. I saw their kindness and I wanted to be just like them.”
“Don’t ever lose that quality,” he said gruffly, getting to his feet. “That’s one of many things I like about you, Tara.”
Their time was up. The hour had sped by much too fast, to her chagrin. It felt as if they’d just sat down ten minutes ago. She hungered for deeper, searching talks just like this one with Harper. He was a damned onion, so many layers to him. Peeling one back, she learned something new about him every time. But he wasn’t giving up his layers to her easily, and now she had an idea why. Shay had been right to make her ask Harper about Olivia. No wonder she had called her a bitch. Olivia was a child in a woman’s body, never having to take responsibility for her actions or words.
Harper held out his hand. Tara took it, relishing the warmth and strength of his fingers around hers as he eased her to her feet. He released her hand, but his gaze never left hers. She stood less than two feet away from him. There was turbulence in Harper’s gray eyes, stormy-looking, burning with something, a need she couldn’t translate. But it drew her powerfully toward him and she swayed a little. If only she could get that wall out from between them!
Harper wrapped his fingers around her upper arm. “We need to do more of this type of talking, Tara. Just you and me.”
His gritty, low voice, the intensity in his sharpened gaze dug straight to her heart and then flared throughout her. She swore she could feel him fighting his desire for her just as she was for him.
“But we have a brick wall between us, Harper,” she said, her voice strained.
“Okay, so we’re infected with PTSD.” His mouth flexed and he kept his hand around her arm. “Today? Maybe we took a brick or two off that wall.” His voice lowered and he pulled her to a stop and nudged a few tendrils of hair from her cheek, tucking them behind her ear. “I’m in for the long haul with you, Tara. If this is what it takes, I’m fine with it. How about you?”
Every time she experienced Harper’s raw, honest courage, she wanted to weep over his suffering. Tears she fought, wanting to hide them from him. “I think you know I’m in this for the long haul, too. I’m just scared. And so are you.”
“We are.” He eased the pressure of his fingers around her arm, caressing her shoulder. “We’ll just live with the fear like we did in our deployments, that’s all. It never stopped us from doing our job over there. We kept moving ahead, Tara. You know how to do that. Only this time? It’s personal and it’s between you and me. We aren’t in Afghanistan anymore. The war is over there for us. We’re home now, and we’re safe, even if we rarely feel that way.”
Giving him a steady look, she whispered, “Don’t ever kid yourself, Harper, the Afghan war lives within us to this day, this hour and this minute. The PTSD we got there is the baggage we carry all the time.”
He smiled tentatively and released her shoulder, “I want my life back just like you do. I’m starting to climb out from beneath my divorce from Olivia, and I want to live again. I know the PTSD steals from us, but it hasn’t taken over within us, and it never will. We’re strong survivors, sweetheart. And that accounts for my hope for both of us to keep taking down that wall that stands between us, a brick at a time.”
Sweetheart. The word had been spoken so quietly, but with such emotion, that Tara stood, absorbing it because she needed that sign from Harper, despite their messy lives and wounded emotions. She wanted to cry and looked down at the blanket, bending over and picking up the emptied saddlebags. “Shay said something to me the other day,” she confided, handing them to Harper.
“What was that?”
“Reese and she have the same issues we struggle with daily. She said that the most important thing was that they talked on a personal, honest level with each other all the time. Every day. And secondly,” her voice became hoarse, “she said that when you love a person, that love transcends the PTSD. It doesn’t cure it, but it has helped them live their lives in such a way that it’s good for both of them. Instead of tearing each other up, they know when to walk away and not hurt the other. To me? That’s as good as it can get under the circumstances.”
Nodding, Harper didn’t move. “That’s good advice she shared with you. Garret and Kira, Noah and Dair are going through the same things we are. It’s not easy. It’s the hardest thing in the world from where I stand.”
“But it’s worth it, Harper.”
He dragged in a deep breath, looked toward the hobbled horses eagerly eating grass. Lifting his head, he met and held her gaze. “That only works if both people want the same thing and have the same objective.”
Her throat hurt with unshed tears as she stood and watched him turn and walk toward the two horses. Did she have the courage to continue to deepen her relationship with Harper? Her heart clamored loudly that she did. But her PTSD-soaked brain was pessimistic, answering the question negatively. Gathering up the blanket, she shook it out, then folded it neatly, carrying it over to where he was putting the bridles on their horses.
In her eyes and heart, Harper looked so strong and steady. He was a cowboy. He was a military vet. He’d saved untold lives in combat, and Tara was sure he’d risked his own life many times in order to save one of his comrades. Silently, she promised him that she did want to try to figure out the morass that stood between them. Having PTSD changed everything and demanded that both people involved find new ways to protect their partner from themselves. It was a terrible risk, but it had to be taken.
Tara didn’t know if she had what it took, but she liked Harper so much that she didn’t see it as a choice she had to make. It was the path she wanted to walk with him. After he bridled the horses, he took the blanket, rolling it up and tying it behind the cantle of his saddle.
A blue jay swept over them, calling raucously as it did so. Jays were good sky guard dogs in Tara’s opinion, and she looked to Harper, who was studying the darkness within the nearby thick grove of pine.
“You think there’s a bear snuffling around in there?” she asked.
“Maybe.” He looked at Ghost, whose ears were also pricked up from the direction the jay had flown and called out a warning. “Let’s mount up and ride up that slope to the fence line. We’ll continue our mending, but we’ll watch our horses for any other signs a bear might be active and in our vicinity.”
Nodding, Tara took the reins, pulling them over Socks’ head. He, too, was fully focused on the interior of the pine grove. “Is there a collared grizzly the Forest Service knows is in this area, Harper?”
He held the reins while she mounted Socks. “Yes. We have a sow and her three-year-old cubs that live in this area. We’ve not seen them on Bar C property, but Shay said she’d seen them in one of the lease pastures after she’d just had the cubs. The Forest Service came in, tracked her and tranquilized her, putting the collar on her.”
Taking the reins, Tara said, “Okay. Well, maybe she’s back on Bar C property.”
Harper mounted. “We’ll keep an eye out. If we do see her, we’ll try to get a cell-phone photo of her for the Forest Service. If she’s the one that’s collared, she’s probably the local bear and she’s in her territory hunting.” He motioned to Tara to move ahead of him and start up the slight incline.
“They travel about twenty miles a day in search of food,” Tara said over her shoulder, nudging Socks forward with her heels.
“Yes, but if that’s the local sow, how did she get onto Bar C property? Probably through some broken-down area of our fence line we haven’t spotted yet,” Harper said, unhappy.
Grimacing, Tara nodded. “We’ll stay alert.” She hated the idea of a grizzly in the immediate area. Both of them carried .30-06 rifles in leather sheaths behind their saddle fenders. And both knew how to use them if they had to defend themselves against such a bear. What was worse? The sow had cubs and she would be superprotective and more willing to charge anyone she thought was an enemy to her babies. One thing Tara knew for sure: one never got between the mother and the cubs. That was a sure death warrant for the stupid person who did it. A sow would charge anyone who cut her off from protecting her babies. Leaning forward in the saddle, she urged Socks into a slow trot up the grassy knoll.
June 16
Tara loved her pale apricot bridesmaid’s dress. It was knee length, with a heart-shaped bodice and lace around her shoulders and down her arms. She felt feminine and beautiful.
She stood with Shay and Dair as Kira walked down the aisle in her antique cream-colored wedding dress, her father, Les, looking proud of his beautiful daughter as he slowly escorted her to the man she was going to marry. He was teary-eyed, self-consciously wiping his eyes every now and again. On the other side of the Unity minister, Monica Doharty, stood tall and handsome Garret Fleming. Beside him was his best man, Reese. Noah and Harper flanked him as proud-looking groomsmen. They were all wearing tan cowboy business suits, black ribbon ties at their throats, their best set of cowboy boots cleaned and polished, their black Stetsons in place, standing with their inherited military posture with shoulders thrown back. Her heart swelled with the organ music, and she gripped the small bouquet of red, orange and white roses in her hand. There were two-foot-long ribbons beneath it, the same color as the flowers. The church was packed with everyone in the valley, coming to celebrate Kira and Garret’s wedding. The temperature of the June afternoon was in the seventies, sunny and perfect as far as Tara was concerned.
Tara remembered going to this church since she was a child. Monica, the minister, was forty-five years old and the mother of three grown children. She had taken over the position as minister from Myron Campbell, who’d retired four years earlier. Tara had grown up with Reverend Campbell on the pulpit. She liked the warmth of Monica, her alto voice, her obvious maternal care for her flock. She loved coming to Sunday church services, finding strength in Monica’s sermons from the Bible, as did so many others in the valley.
On the groom’s side of the aisle were her mother and father in the second row. Tara loved her parents so much. They were trying their best to embrace and understand the toxic PTSD symptoms she’d gotten. She’d had many long, deep talks with them about them the past few months. They’d only grown closer, more supportive of her, knowing what to recognize in her when she was having a bad day. She loved them for trying to understand the hellish storm that lived within her.
Gaze drifting across the assemblage, she saw Kira was radiant in her shoulder-length lace veil. Looking toward Garret, she saw tears in his eyes; he was struggling to battle them back. Her own throat tightened. And to get a small piece of happiness like this? Tara was overwhelmed with sudden emotion, Kira’s face blurring for a moment as she sniffed and tried not to cry herself.
There were very few dry eyes in the church as Monica later pronounced Kira and Garret man and wife. The reception was going to be held in the huge church hall, an annex to the main red-brick building. It could handle up to five hundred people. After Garret proudly walked his wife down the aisle and they left to walk over to the annex, everyone genially followed.
It was nice to fall into line after the new couple with Harper at her side. He gave her a wink and a tender smile, and she felt warmth cascade through her. If only she could read what was in his eyes! Was he thinking that someday they might fall in love so deeply that they couldn’t imagine life without each other? Knowing that her dreamy, idealistic side was taking hold of her, Tara shared a tremulous smile in return, moved by the wedding. She made no apology for the tears streaming down her cheeks, not caring if it mussed the little bit of makeup she’d put on with Shay’s help. There was lots to do to help Kira and Garret open all the wedding gifts that were stacked on many tables and helping with the catered food that had been provided by Kassie from the restaurant, as well as the western band that was setting up right now in the annex.
Once they got to the roomy building, Tara loved how it was decorated, gold and white ribbons emanating from a central chandelier that sparkled brightly with crystals. Everything was perfect. Shay, Dair and Tara had worked long into the night, making sure it looked like a beautiful fairyland for Kira and Garret.
There was nothing greater than working with other vets because they knew how to come together as a flawless team to make the 450 people who were to attend the reception feel at ease and welcomed. Kira was teary and Garret held and kissed her several times. It made Tara’s heart melt. The fierceness that these male vets had for their women impressed her so much. They were a special group of men who adored their women. More than once, Tara would look up and see Harper across the room, pulling out chairs for the visitors, and glance in her direction. The warmth that had begun in the church only tripled because the look he gave her was more than just lust. There was something new in his expression, a thoughtfulness, a realization of some deeper connection with her, was what she could sense in the moment.
How badly she wanted to be with Harper right now, but there was simply too much for her to do along with Dair and Shay, to keep things on track and moving forward. Maybe tonight, after Kira and Garret left for the Jackson Hole Airport to take their Hawaiian honeymoon, she could once more be with him.
* * *
“How are you doing, Tara?”
Harper walked at her side, his arm around her waist, the night sky twinkling with stars thrown across the black vault of the heavens. It was chilly and he had taken off his coat and placed it around her shoulders once they had stepped outside the annex. It was almost ten p.m. and the valley folks were making the most of the western band inside, dancing until ten thirty p.m., when they would call it a night.
“Better now,” she murmured, looking up into his shadowed features. They walked slowly through the crowded church parking lot.
“Good. I think we pulled off a good reception for Garret and Kira, don’t you?”
Nodding, she rested her head against his shoulder. “Absolutely. It went off perfectly. Vets work so well together. There wasn’t a hitch in it. Kira and Garret got to relax and just enjoy this special time with each other, which is what we all wanted.”
“And even though the bride was beautiful,” he said, kissing her brow, “you were, too. First time I’ve seen you in a dress, Tara, and I gotta tell you, you look incredible.”
She laughed softly as he stopped and unlocked the door to his pickup. “Thanks. I’m glad Kira let us wear low, comfortable sandals. I never wear those foot-damaging torture devices called heels. All they do is ruin a woman’s foot and cause horrible bunions.”
He smiled as he opened the passenger door for her. He inhaled the honeysuckle scent of her shampoo. For the wedding, Tara had left her hair down, the blond strands gleaming, emphasizing the beauty of her wide blue eyes that he wanted to drown himself within. The rustle of the sleek fabric, her graceful movements, all conspired to make him ache for her. Did he want her? Yes. But he wasn’t the type of man to chase women for sex. There had to be something more, much more, than just lust involved. It had to be meaningful. And judging by the yearning looks she’d traded with him off and on throughout the reception, they were on the same level of understanding. Where would tonight lead them?