Chapter One
Jaxson
When it rained, it poured.
Literally.
Hurricane Helen was moving up the East Coast, dumping tons of rain and putting kinks in the plans of thousands of weary travelers.
Like him.
Jaxson Adams didn’t mind the delay. He wasn’t in any particular hurry to go back to his hometown and face the ghosts he’d been avoiding for the last ten years.
But crowds of obnoxious assholes—those he did mind. They were everywhere. Yapping. Complaining. Demanding. As if the people who worked for the airlines could do anything about the weather.
Jaxson’s tolerance for people in general was low these days, but these self-entitled idiots had him redlining. Tired, cranky, and aching, courtesy of sitting for hours on the cramped transatlantic flight, he needed to get somewhere quieter until the storm passed and he could pick up his connecting flight.
He spotted an older man in a red vest standing off to the side, his expression stoic in the midst of so much inconvenience. The embroidered AIA over his left chest marked him as one of the poor bastards having to deal with angry masses. Jaxson made his way over to him, drawing up short twice when said idiots nearly ran into him, their eyes glued to their cell phone screens.
“Excuse me, sir, can you tell me where the USO is?”
Sympathy flashed in the man’s eyes as they flicked to the crutch Jaxson held at his side. Jaxson made up his mind then and there. The crutch was getting left behind when the last leg of the trip was completed.
“Domestic Terminal, level three. Gotta go outside of security to get there. If you’ve got bags, you’ll have to claim them and recheck them before you can fly out on your rescheduled flight.”
“Thanks.”
“Thank you.”
Jaxson blinked. “Me? For what?”
“For your service.”
Jaxson nodded. That seemed to be the thing to say these days. The old man hadn’t been the first to say that to him on this trip, but unlike most of the others, this guy seemed to actually mean it.
The baggage claim area was a zoo. Inconvenienced passengers pushed and shoved and vied to get their luggage instead of simply waiting for it to loop around again. It seemed pointless. No one was going anywhere anytime soon. All flights in and out were on hold until Helen did her thing and moved on.
Once he had his bag, Jaxson made his way to the third level, following the signs to the USO. As the glass doors slid closed behind him, a woman appeared and greeted him with a warm, genuine smile.
His first thought was, What the hell is she so happy about?
She was on the tall side for a woman with kind eyes and brown hair that reached her shoulders. “Welcome to the USO! I’m Blessing Collier, and I’m in charge here. You are ...”
“Jaxson. Jaxson Adams.”
“Of course you are. I’ve been expecting you. Let’s get you signed in, so you can settle in. You look like you could use it.”
Expecting him? Clearly, she had him confused with someone else, but he didn’t feel like correcting her. The sooner he got off his feet, the better.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She laughed, the sound soft and light and oddly comforting. “Call me Blessing, please, though I am a sucker for a man with good manners.”
His lips twitched as he followed her toward the desk. It was the closest he’d come to an actual smile in a long time.
“We usually close at nine, but with the storm and flights canceled, we’ll stay open all night,” she chattered on. “We’ve got a full house tonight, but I’m sure we’ll find a place for you.”
“Appreciate it.”
After completing the sign-in procedure, he followed her down a hall painted red, white, and blue.
She waved her hand to the side toward a large shelving unit that was overflowing with bags, duffels, suitcases, and even strollers parked next to it. “You can put your bag against the wall here,” she said, pointing to a spot where a few other government-issued bags sat on the floor. “It’ll be safe and out of the way.”
He followed her instructions, glancing into a room with children sleeping on pallets with their parents slumped nearby in the cushioned sofas and chairs. Another room held uniformed men and women asleep on the floor with their backpacks tucked underneath their heads for pillows. The ache in his hips intensified as he thought about stretching out on the hard floor, but Blessing had other plans for him.
She turned and continued on, leaving him to follow. Looking over her shoulder, she waved to the left. “Showers and toilets are there. Are you hungry?”
He shook his head. Thanks to the long walk, the pain had progressed enough to dampen any appetite he might have had.
“Well, if that changes, there’s food back the way we came. Our staff is preparing more for those of you just getting here. Of course, breakfast will be served, starting at six a.m. For now, I’m taking you somewhere special. We call it the library. I think you’ll be happier there.”
Before he had a chance to respond, she ushered him through a doorway. He glanced around, pleasantly surprised as they stepped into a smaller lounge. Plush leather sofas faced each other with a recliner against the wall. Two other men were already slouched on the deep cushions, military guys like himself. And bonus: no screaming kids.
One of the guys wore a medical walking boot, his foot propped up on the table in front of him, prompting Jaxson to wonder if Blessing had led him here because of his crutch. He normally wasn’t one for special treatment, but after the long trip, he’d make an exception.
The men appeared to be deep in quiet discussion but looked up at their entrance.
“Jaxson Adams, Army,” Blessing announced. “Jaxson, this is Sebastian Durand. He’s a Navy man, on his way back to Louisiana.”
The man without the boot stood. He was slightly shorter than Jaxson’s six foot two height but had similar dark brown hair and assessing gray eyes. Jaxson pegged him immediately as special forces—a SEAL, if he had to guess.
Sebastian offered his hand, his grip strong and confident. “Jaxson,” he said, revealing a hint of a drawl.
“And Kyle Jones, also Navy, heading home to the Appalachians. That’s something you two have in common, although Jaxson’s from the Blue Ridge Mountains,” Blessing said with a smile.
“Don’t get up.” Jaxson leaned over and shook the guy’s hand.
The guy looked comfortable where he was, and Jaxson knew firsthand how difficult finding a comfortable position could be with an injury.
“Thanks,” Kyle said.
He, too, had the intense, detached look of a special forces man, though Jaxson had seen uncertainty in the guy’s blue eyes a moment earlier. That was something else Jaxson understood all too well.
“Well, I’ll leave you to get acquainted. I’ll be back with the rest of your companions shortly,” Blessing said, turning and going out the way she had come.
“Did you tell her you lived in the mountains?” Kyle asked.
Jaxson shook his head. He hadn’t told her that he’d been in the Army either.
Kyle laughed. “Me neither. Sebastian here thinks she might be psychic or something.”
Or incredibly observant, Jaxson thought, too weary to put much thought into it. “What did she mean by ‘the rest of your companions’?”