Embattled Return (Lost And Found Book 6) Read online

  Hey, Babe,

  I’m settled in my hotel and my wine buzz has worn off. Lol! Assuming they get the ice under control I’m booked on the morning flight home. I won’t make it in time for the boys’ appointment, so you’ll still have to do that. Sorry. You know where the office is, right? Dr. Patterson. Oh, and be warned. I think they’re getting the HepA shot. Sorry. :-)

  I’m going to head to bed. I’m stressed out from worrying. I placed a wake-up call with the front desk so that I won’t miss my shuttle. I’m not sure where my phone cord is. I either left it at the hotel or threw it in my checked bag. Either way, I’ll get a new one in the morning and charge as much as possible before I get on the plane.

  I love you dearly, John. Stay strong! Lol

  Shannon

  2

  As soon as she walked into the airport, Shannon Palmer headed for a lit gift shop. Her poor phone was completely dead now and if she wanted to talk to her husband she needed to get a cord. The shop had one, though it was almost three times the amount she would have paid anywhere else. Sigh. Serves her right for not keeping track of her own cord.

  There were no more hiccups as she checked in at the counter and parked in the waiting area near an outlet. It took her a while to get the damned tamper-proof package open, but she eventually got her cell phone plugged in. She let it sit for almost half a minute before she turned it on to check her messages. John had sent her several pics of the boys, and her heart clutched at seeing them. They were so damn cute, even if she did say so herself. Their hair was so dark and thick...their eyes lit with trouble.

  The flight went off without a hitch. No more ice, apparently. She had a two-hour layover in Chicago, then a three-hour flight to Denver, and her testosterone laced house. As the kids neared the terrible twos, she could tell Wyatt was going to be just like his dad. Strong and direct, he was a bruiser, and she’d already had to talk to the ladies at the day care because they were concerned he was playing too roughly.

  It was because their dad got down on the floor and wrestled with them like they were teenagers, but she didn’t tell the daycare workers that.

  Caden was her mastermind cuddler. Yes, he could scrap with Wyatt when he needed to, but Shannon knew for a fact that Caden was the one that planned the trouble they got into.

  They were both too stinking cute. She needed to see their adorable little faces.

  As she walked through the airport toward her next gate, her attention was caught by a tall man on arm crutches struggling along in the same direction, hugging the opposite wall. Shannon wasn’t sure exactly why he drew her attention, but she slowed her steps to keep pace with him. She thought, looking at his dark hair under the ball cap, that he must be military, though he wasn’t wearing a uniform, just jeans and a gray wool coat, it looked like. No uniform didn’t mean anything, though. If tensions spiked in the Middle East, military stateside were ordered to wear civilian clothing when traveling.

  The man was having issues, though he tried to hide it, and her heart ached for him. Why hadn’t someone gotten him a wheelchair to use to get through the huge airport? O’Hare was a bitch on a good day, let alone dealing with injuries like this guy appeared to have. The man dragged a brand-new looking, soft-sided black suitcase, not one with the handy roller wheels. This was a standard Base Xchange special, no frills. If he wasn’t careful, it was going to overbalance him.

  As if fate had heard her thoughts, the suitcase caught on the heel of his boot, and he almost went down. The man stopped and backed up to the wall, bracing himself against it, his head down, the bill shadowing his face. Even from across the massive aisle way, Shannon could see the trembling in his body as he tried to gather his strength. She didn’t understand why he didn’t have help. The airport was usually pretty good about making sure people got from one place to another, but the guest had to ask for the help. And men were prone not to ask.

  She sighed, thinking about John. The man could be stuck in the mud with his hair on fire and he wouldn’t ask for help. It just wasn’t in him. Even before the injury that stuck him in the chair she doubted he’d have ever asked for help. Every once in a while he let her open a door for him, but not much more.

  Shannon was drawing closer and she didn’t want to pass him up, so she paused long enough to stand in line at a kiosk and get a five-dollar bottle of water. She wasn’t sure what made it so expensive, because it looked like any other Dasani bottle. Living in an airport apparently made it special.

  By the time she paid for the water, the man –soldier—had started off again. An older gentleman walked alongside him for a moment, but the man snapped angrily and jerked his chin, motioning him away.

  Ah, yes, the defensive hero. She couldn’t even count the times she’d seen it at Lost and Found. If he was military she doubted he would want any kind of help, especially from a woman, but maybe she could spin it in the opposite direction. She watched the man for a moment longer just to make sure there would be no family or girlfriend rushing up to help him, then she made her move. Stretching out her short legs, she pulled alongside him. Before he could say anything, she whispered, “Do you mind if I walk with you? Please? I have a guy following me, I think, and I don’t want to look like I’m alone.”

  That seemed to steal the fire from his normal response. He glanced at her, then gave a quick glance behind. The great thing about airports was that it always felt like someone was following you, so he didn’t say anything, just continued to struggle along. “Whatever, lady.”

  Well, that was part of the battle, Shannon thought. She tried to get a look at him, but he kept his face turned away. She glanced behind them like she was still worried about her ‘follower’, then faced front. “Thank you so much. The guy was on my plane and he would not shut up. If my husband was here he would tell him to fuck off, but I can’t be that rude.”

  The young man’s jaw clenched, and she realized it might have sounded like a rebuke to him. Ugh.

  “But then,” she continued, “he’s a Marine. Before we had our twins, ‘fuck’ used to be his go-to word for everything,” she snorted. “Now it’s fudge. He’s slipped a few times around Christmas and Caden picked it up, but he’s kind of forgotten it now. Thank goodness.”

  “Twins, huh?” the man asked, glancing at her for a moment.

  Shannon fought not to react to the man’s face, though her heart was breaking. No wonder he was hugging the wall as he made his way slowly down the concourse. If she had learned anything working at Lost and Found, it was what healing burn scars looked like. “Yup,” she said, slowing as they neared a corner in the concourse. “They’re twenty-two months, now. And growing like crazy. What gate are you headed to?”

  “E24,” he said, pausing to straighten his back for a moment and look up at the gate display. Shannon realized he was much taller than she’d thought, at least a couple inches over six feet.

  Shannon dug for her ticket. “That sounds familiar. Yup, that’s where I’m going, too. Denver?”

  The young man glanced down at her again, giving her a little more eye contact. “Yes, Denver.”

  Shannon made sure not to react to his injuries. The guy was younger than she’d expected- could he even be more than nineteen or twenty?- had heartbreaking dark blue-green eyes that were so pretty, so thickly lashed, they made the rest of his face look that much more ruined. She wanted to reach out and draw his big, damaged frame into a hug but that would negate all of the headway she’d made with him. She gave him steady eye contact and a gentle smile, then glanced back up at the board. “It doesn’t load for another hour. Want to grab a coffee?”

  She motioned to the faux diner across the way. There was tiredness etched into his face, and she knew he was tempted. “Come on,” she urged. “My feet are hurting.”

  She held out a foot, clad in a very pretty heeled boot, giving her a few precious inches of height. The shoes were actually quite comfortable, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “Fine,” he sighed, and plan
ted his crutches to wade through the traffic.

  Shannon made sure to try to block some of the travelers from running into them, but there was a lot of traffic. A few people gave her dirty looks, but she didn’t care. The man arrived at the hostess stand first and asked for a table.

  The young woman’s eyes widened at the sight of the soldier, and she fumbled with the whiteboard on her stand. Then she looked at him again. Shannon cleared her throat sharply, drawing her attention, and gave a sharp nod of her head, trying to get the woman to focus on finding them a table. Flustered, the girl grabbed two menus and turned toward the seating area.

  “I’ve got your bag,” Shannon told the man, seeing that he was going to have to maneuver to even get his crutches through the obstacle course of chairs. He gave her a reluctant, almost glaring look, before relinquishing his hold on the case. “I’m not going to steal it,” she told him, grinning, trying desperately to lighten the weight around him.

  Without responding he turned away from her and followed the hostess to a table in the far corner. There was a short fence around the seating area, then the flow of traffic on the other, and Shannon knew he wouldn’t relax there. “Miss,” she called. “Can we get that one back there?”

  It was against the wall and there was a convenient power outlet right beside it. The hostess gave the man a significant look and nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, leading them over. She placed the menus at opposite chairs and faded away. Adjusting his chair, the young man backed into it and lowered himself down. It was obviously painful and Shannon looked away, settling into her own chair.

  The man was glaring at her, and she wasn’t sure why. “We can move back to the front if you want, but my phone is almost dead and I need to plug it in.”

  Suiting actions to words she dug her new charger from the side pocket of her laptop bag and handed him one end. “Can you plug that in?”

  The man blinked and she could tell she’d kind of stolen his building thunder. He thought she’d wanted the back corner because she didn’t want to be seen with him or something. She stuck out her hand. “Shannon Palmer.”

  He took her hand, still scowling. “Logan Vance.”

  “Nice to meet you, Logan,” she grinned, looking at his full face calmly. Yes, his injuries were bad, but not as bad as some they’d hired at LNF. It looked like he’d been in an IED blast or something, which would also explain the damage to his legs. “So, what branch are you in? I’m guessing Army.”

  Logan stared at her for a long moment before he gave her a nod. “That obvious, huh?”

  She shrugged lightly. “I work with veterans.”

  He got an odd look on his face. “Yeah, I guess I’m that now. I’m medically retired from the Army. And I’m a veteran,” he sighed, a world of experience in the sound.

  “How old are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Twenty-three. Almost done with my six-year contract.”

  “IED?”

  He gave her a single, tight nod, watching her curiously. Shannon could see the wariness in his eyes, until he remembered to look away. The skin on the right side of his face had the rough, melted look of burns, but they didn’t seem to have been incredibly deep, like some of Zeke’s scars. Some of his hairline had been affected but she could see thick dark curly hair behind his ear. It had been at least a few months since he’d had a fade or a crew cut.

  “Your scars don’t bother me,” she told him softly.

  “Whatever, lady.” His square jaw tightened, but he didn’t look up at her, and she thought he might have been fighting emotion. She picked up her phone and scanned through her notifications as she waited for him to get a hold of himself again.

  A waitress stopped at the table a few minutes later and took their drink order, and he seemed fine, even glancing up at the girl for a moment.

  “So, is Denver your home?” Shannon asked him.

  Logan looked up at her and made a motion with his lips. “Not exactly. My family was from there years ago, but we moved away. I wanted to see it again before...” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Well, I just wanted to see it again. The place where I was born. And I have some other business out there.”

  Shannon stared at him, something niggling in her brain. She hadn’t liked that phrase, before. Before what, exactly?

  Working where she did, she’d seen more than her share of PTSD and veterans struggling to find their balance after they’d been released from the military. In her opinion, they got kicked out, often with very little aftercare or reintegration training to civilian life, and it pissed her off. Even before she’d become involved with John, veteran’s issues had affected her strongly. Duncan did his best to make sure his employees got the best counseling available, but he could only offer it. He couldn’t physically walk them into it, and he’d met resistance a few times. For the most part, though, everyone went, even years after they’d had their original injury.

  Even John went occasionally, though he called it a bitch session rather than counseling. His counselor, a woman named Maddowitz, didn’t seem to mind, as long as he showed up occasionally.

  Had this young man, his eyes aching with masked pain, gotten any kind of guidance? Had his family even cared?

  You won’t learn anything without asking questions, she told herself firmly. “Do you have any family left out here?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so. My direct family is all back east, in Virginia, though we don’t talk much. I get the impression we moved because of something that happened. There were some things we weren’t supposed to talk about at the dinner table.”

  “Yeah, I get it,” Shannon said thoughtfully. “You know, my husband is part owner in a detective agency. If you’d like we could check and see if you have any outlaws floating around.”

  “No, thank you, ma’am,” he said stiffly, looking out over the moving tide of passengers, anger tightening his frame. “I’ll figure it out.”

  “I wasn’t offering you charity, Logan,” she said softly. “I was offering a fellow military veteran aid. That’s all.”

  He blinked, but the anger stayed. Shannon didn’t know how to break through that hard shell. She wasn’t really surprised though. Wounded men were like spiny little hedgehogs. Even the slightest whiff of charity offended them and set their spikes on end.

  The waitress returned with their drinks and Shannon asked Logan if he wanted food. He said no, but when the waitress returned with the loaded potato skins and the tray of artichoke dip and pita chips she had ordered, he did help himself to a few things.

  “So, have you seen your stalker in the past half hour?” he asked, voice gruff.

  Shannon, grinning, wiped her mouth with her napkin. She appreciated that he was playing along. “Nope. I think he’s gone. Thank you very much for being my chivalrous escort.”

  At her words, humor lightened Logan’s world-weary gaze. “No problem, ma’am. I’m here to serve.”

  They walked to the gate together when it was time for their flight and even though he got some stares, he took advantage of the veteran priority loading. He jerked his head at her to follow along with him since she had his bag and no one said a word. They found his seat and he settled in. Shannon took his crutches and handed them off to one of the flight attendants, who put them into a long, vertical closet just for those types of things. Her seat was in ‘first class’, though with these little commuter flights there was no seat difference. Once the seats were filled and the plane was in the air, she moved back to sit across the aisle from him.

  “So, how long are you going to be in Colorado?”

  Logan shrugged, gazing out the window. “As long as I need to be. I also have to look up a friend’s family. After that I’ll be done.”

  Shannon frowned, again not liking the wording, or the implication. John needed to meet this guy. He would know what to do.

  Logan didn’t know what to think about the woman sitting across from him. The stalker thing had been a ruse, obv
iously, but for some reason he didn’t mind. Actually, he appreciated the companionship, though he wouldn’t tell her that.

  The woman had to be in her thirties, with thick, wavy dark hair and pretty hazel eyes. Maybe it was because she kind of reminded him of Jana, short and curvy and with a pretty smile.

  His breath caught as he thought about his sister, and he forced the pain into a corner of his mind. Now wasn’t the time.

  Shannon said she was married with kids, so he didn’t get the vibe that she was hitting on the poor, wounded soldier, like all the other women on the flight into O’Hare. God, what a mess that had been.

  Why was this woman helping him out, though? What was in it for her? Did she just want the companionship? He couldn’t help but feel a little appreciative for her tagging along.

  Hopefully, they’d get to Denver and go their separate ways. Then, after he found Miller’s family, he would be free to do what he wanted with his life.

  3

  John glanced at Chad, sitting beside him in the truck. “Thanks for going with me, buddy.”

  Grinning, Chad gave him a nod, his blue eyes bright in the Denver morning. “No problem! I love going to the doctor,” he said, rolling his eyes and grinning at the boys in the back seat. They giggled, Wyatt smacking his hands on the car seat. “I’ve had to take Mercy before. It may not be fun. Especially if they have to get a S-H-O-T.”

  John nodded, appreciating that his buddy hadn’t actually said the word. He’d made that mistake earlier when he’d called Chad to see if he was available and the kids had both started crying. At their age he didn’t think it was possible to correlate the word with pain, but that’s exactly what they seemed to do.

  Chad had been free. Kind of. Duncan wanted everyone at the Columbus branch meeting, so he’d reschedule the meeting for later in the afternoon. Once John got the kids taken care of and he dropped them off, it was only an hour before Shannon’s flight got in, then the meeting an hour later.