Hearths of Fire (3 page)

Gunny didn’t reply right away, but instead thought through the request like he did
with all of them. He was very methodical, which was in part why he made such a good
leader. Add on the fact that the man was a solid mass of muscle that stood six foot
three inches with the ability to carve a man’s heart out with nothing more than a
pocket knife, and he was one formidable foe. Neal would follow him through the gates
of hell.

“Home as in Hearth, Missouri?” Gunny planted his boots on the asphalt and crossed
his arms over his chest. “I thought your parents moved to Florida.”

“Yes, to Hearth. But this doesn’t have anything to do with my parents. They’re fine.”
Neal knew he’d have to come clean, but he’d just gotten a ration of shit from Daegan.
He didn’t need it from the rest of the team. “A friend might be in trouble. I wouldn’t
ask for personal leave if I thought I could handle this any other way.”

“Have you spoken with Starr yet?”

“No,” Neal replied, noticing that Starr’s red BMW Alpine Z8 convertible was already
parked in the lot. It didn’t come as a surprise that their superior was the first
one to arrive this morning, or any morning for that matter. She was also always the
last to leave. “I’ll talk to her before block training starts. I just didn’t want
you blindsided and I wanted to be able to tell her I’d already spoken to you.”

“This friend…would it happen to be a woman?”

“Charlotte.” Neal said her name, knowing full well what the opinion of his ex-fiancée
was within the team. “And before you say anything, this has nothing to do with our
past relationship. Her sister is getting involved with a boy who belongs to a local
cult, and after speaking with her I think she has reason to be worried.”

“Cult?” Gunny rubbed his chin, contemplating the information that Neal was putting
in front of him. “Are the police involved?”

“You and I both know that unless a cult has done something outrageously illegal the
average rural county sheriff’s office will leave well enough alone.” Neal looked at
his watch and grimaced, knowing he wouldn’t have enough time to speak with Starr if
he didn’t get his ass in gear. He spared a glance at the one hundred and twenty thousand
square foot warehouse with an attached hangar. He knew if he looked over his shoulder
he’d see
The Promise Land
, the one thousand four hundred fifty ton, three hundred six foot converted Crosley-Class
High Speed Transport, or APD. It was one hell of a massive ship and highly modified
for their specific kind of mission. Red Starr HRT was a first class operation and
their first assignment back in the saddle was not only imperative to its continued
excellent reputation, but also personal. “Gunny, I give you my word that I’ll be caught
up on the drills by Monday. I know how important this is to you.”

“Which is why your request for leave is granted.” Gunny’s lips compressed into a thin
line and indicated the solemnity of his words. “I understand the need to protect what
is ours. Join the rest of the team in the operations room for block training and I’ll
inform Starr of your plans.”

Neal nodded his appreciation and was about to go into further detail regarding his
plans when the rumble of Daegan’s Harley could be heard pulling into the lot. The
sun glinted off of the shiny chrome, but it was nothing in comparison to the flash
of gleaming teeth from the smile on Daegan’s face. He’d finally got his baby up and
running. Revving the engine for show, he gracefully pushed back the tail end of the
six hundred and fifty pound hunk of metal into a slot in the reserved motorcycle parking
area right up front.

“That idiot isn’t wearing a helmet,” Gunny muttered, his words barely recognizable
over the drone of the bike’s engine. He turned and started walking toward the entrance,
but he wasn’t far enough away that Neal didn’t catch his next statement. “His head’s
going to hit the pavement and he will be uglier than he already is.”

*

Neal took a
seat beside John “Trigger” Dixon, who had just given a sit command to Diesel. The
German Shepherd hadn’t been officially trained to be a working dog, but by the time
the duo had arrived at headquarters Diesel knew and obeyed every command that was
needed to carry out his duties. His full coat of golden brown and black fur covered
a robust frame, and damn if the dog’s teeth weren’t brighter than Daegan’s.

“Starr warm up to him yet?” Neal asked, setting his coffee down on the surface of
the table. They were situated in the multi-tiered mission briefing room for their
block training that would be displayed on a twelve-foot screen with the high tech
eighteen thousand lumens 3D HD projector mounted on the ceiling. Each of them had
gotten the opportunity to operate the complex computer based system. They had each
been assigned and given a personal history PowerPoint presentation as part of the
initial team building exercises. The banter had amped up from the very start. As always,
Gunny and Starr were positioned on either side of the large screen, although every
now and then she would cast a look toward Diesel. The dog seemed to have become infatuated
with the woman, much to her dismay. Rumor had it that Starr had even made a wager
in regards to Diesel, although Trigger hadn’t divulged what the stakes had been. “I
swear I saw her scratch Diesel’s backside the other day.”

Catori Starr did her best to come across as a hard-ass, but Neal knew the retired
Marine Master Sergeant has a soft spot in there somewhere for the highly intelligent
beast. Their superior was in her early forties and of Apache and English heritage.
She had long black hair with the darkest set of brown eyes he’d ever seen, but every
once in a while he would see them soften when she glanced Diesel’s way. Why she pretended
to dislike the dog was beyond him, but damn if it wasn’t funny to poke Trigger with
a needle every now and then.

“Are you sniffing your own meds, Doc? The only thing she wants to do to Diesel’s backside
is kick it,” Trigger remarked with a laugh.

“I think Doc’s right,” Aaron “Stick” Scott exclaimed, taking a seat next to Trigger
with a Coke in hand. His preference for soda was widely known and it didn’t instill
you with confidence, considering his job. His nickname came from his military occupational
specialty of diffusing IUDs, as in stick of dynamite—not his frame. The man was built
like a brick shithouse. Diesel now sat in between the two although had yet to tear
his gaze away from Starr. It was downright comical. “I saw her give Diesel some type
of treat last Thursday when we were going into the simulator.”

“Treat?” Trigger asked wearily as he looked between Starr and Diesel. “You don’t think
she’d poison him, do you? Doc, can you run some blood tests?”

Neal shook his head as Stick kept jabbing with the needle and stirring up shit where
there wasn’t any. Daegan finally walked in and went straight over to where the coffee
maker was situated. It didn’t take him long to grab his mug and saunter over, taking
a seat next to Neal. He gave a contented sigh and it was clear that he was finally
satisfied with how the custom job turned out on his bike.

“Just so you know, Gunny granted my leave. Three days.”

Daegan nodded, although didn’t say anything. For some reason, knowing that he thought
Neal was making a mistake in returning home wasn’t setting right. It wasn’t like he
needed to explain his actions and he damn well hadn’t asked for any advice. So then
why did he feel that Daegan had a point? The past should be left in the past.

“All right, shut the hell up,” Starr announced, picking up her coffee and fortifying
herself with a heavy dose of caffeine before continuing. “Let’s get this day started
shall we, ladies?”

Starr didn’t waste any time as she pressed a button on the remote she held in her
hand to start the presentation on the screen. She’d created Red Starr HRT with her
husband, Brendan “Red” O’Neill. From what Neal understood, Red and the first team
assembled had been killed on a hostage rescue mission that had gone south. Due to
the fact that no bodies had been returned to the States, they had all been declared
MIA. Neal remembered the news hitting the airways, which was why he’d been surprised
when Starr had said that Red Starr HRT was reopening its doors after a two year gap.

The rest of the morning flew by and although Neal had listened closely to the discussion
and guidelines of the upcoming drills, he couldn’t prevent his thoughts from drifting
to the phone call he’d had with Charlotte. She’d never once asked him for help, not
even when her parents had died. Was that the reason he was willing to drop everything
and try to alleviate her fears? The questions wouldn’t stop hammering his brain and
he knew he had Daegan to thank for that. It wasn’t like Neal still loved her, but
when someone was in your life for as long as Charlotte had been in his the feelings
just didn’t turn off like a light switch. He still cared for both Charlotte and her
sister as if they were his own family. And hadn’t Gunny summed it up by saying they
took care of their own?

“I can smell the smoke burning from here, Doc,” Daegan murmured when Starr and Gunny
had stopped the projection to discuss one of the positions of a team member laid out
on the screen. “If you’re not careful you’re going to burn out that one watt light
bulb you got for a brain.”

Neal could see Starr looking their way so he bit his tongue to keep from replying.
He’d never been one to keep things close to his chest. He was an open book, but now
he understood why Daegan kept his personal shit personal—it kept the needling and
bloodletting to a minimum. Neal would take the jabs, return to Hearth for two to three
days, and come back to someone else being in the ring—most likely Diesel and Trigger.

‡

C
harlotte sighed with
relief as she flipped the sign to indicate the bookstore was closed. It was a Friday
evening in the month of October, which meant closing hour was five o’clock. High school
football was taken seriously in Hearth as well as the fall festival, which happened
to start this weekend. The game kicked off the festivities and the town’s excitement
was palpable, although all she wanted to do was curl up on the couch in front of the
fireplace and bury her head under an afghan.

Walking back around the counter, she glanced down at her cell phone. Mandy hadn’t
called after school and Charlotte knew that if she were to call her sister, all it
would do was instigate another argument. Lately, that’s all they seemed to do. She
had no choice but to go home, change into warmer clothes, and attend the football
game to see for herself that Mandy was all right. It was better than waiting up until
midnight for her to get home. Charlotte was just grateful that Mandy was still abiding
by her curfew, although tonight might be an exception considering all of the extracurricular
events going on.

The bell above the door jingled and Charlotte looked up with every intention of telling
the person that the store had already closed for the evening. The words caught in
her throat when she saw Neal Bauer standing there, looking every bit as attractive
as she remembered. He was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt that molded over his
broad chest and a pair of jeans that hugged his upper thighs just right. His dark
blond hair was short on the sides and slightly longer on top while his green eyes
reminded her of a tiger hunting its prey. She knew that predatory gleam wasn’t for
her so much as it was on behalf of Mandy, for she’d cut those ties with him long ago.
She often questioned herself, wondering if she’d made a mistake all those years ago…but
what ifs
wouldn’t help her situation now.

“Neal.” Charlotte swallowed and then berated herself for such a pathetic reaction.
She resisted the urge to see if her long hair was still upswept into the clip she’d
put in this morning and walked around the counter. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

“I said I’d be here on Friday, didn’t I?” Neal glanced around the store, although
she couldn’t ascertain the reason why. Did he want to ensure that no one else was
around for what he might say? Or did he just want to see what she’d done with the
place? The bookstore had been her mother’s business up until the accident. Charlotte
hadn’t been so sure she could continue running it in that first year. Things were
quite hectic after the funeral services, especially considering her relatively younger
age and all of her new responsibilities. At first the bookstore seemed to be more
than she could shoulder. Neal hadn’t come in here during those brief few months that
he’d returned home from the military and he hadn’t seen the changes that she’d implemented.
She was relatively sure he didn’t care and she didn’t blame him. His gaze finally
came back to hers. “You’re looking good, Char.”