Being here, smelling the clean, dry air—similar, yet different from the air across the world in the desert—was already making her feel so much better.
“Everything sounds lovely,” Sierra’s mom said.
“We try, ma’am,” Spike said.
“I can go grab your things if you want to go with Tiny for a quick tour of the grounds and to see where you’ll be staying,” Brick said.
Her dad handed over his keys and soon they were all following behind Tiny as he showed them the property.
Forty-five minutes later, Sierra was giving her parents a hug as they prepared to head back to Colorado.
“We love you,” her mom said.
“I know.”
“We just want to see you happy. I know you’ve been struggling, and as much as it pains us, we know that we can’t make things better for you,” her dad said.
“You have,” Sierra insisted. “I love you guys too, and you’ve been so great.”
“I won’t say that I want things to go back to the way they were, because that’s impossible, but I hope this place can help you heal,” her mom said.
“I’m sure it will,” Sierra said. Her mom’s eyes watered, and Sierra actually regretted she couldn’t seem more emotional for her parents’ sake, but even after weeks at home, she still hadn’t been able to cry one real tear.
Her mom sniffled and wiped away her own tears as Sierra hugged her dad. “Drive safe and please let me know when you get to Pagosa Springs, and when you get home.”
“We will,” her dad said. Then he turned to Grover, who had stepped back to give them space, but hadn’t left. “Take care of her.”
Grover nodded.
“She’s our world,” her mother said tearfully.
Sierra smiled slightly. “Okay, Mom, enough. I’m good. This place is beautiful and perfect. No one needs to take care of me and nothing’s gonna happen up here. I’m gonna eat, sleep, and relax. That’s it.”
She could see her mom wanted to say more, but she merely sniffed and nodded. “I love you. Email me and let me know how things are going.”
“Of course,” Sierra told her.
“Feel free to call your old man too,” her dad said gruffly.
It took another five minutes for her parents to actually get in their minivan and drive off, but after she and Grover were finally alone, she sighed in relief.
“I love them, but man…they’re pretty emotional,” she said with a small chuckle.
“The last time they said goodbye, things turned out a bit differently than you all had planned,” Grover said seriously.
That sobered Sierra. “I know. And I’m very grateful for everything they’ve done for me since I’ve been back. I just…” Her voice trailed off.
“You aren’t used to it. You need your space,” Grover finished for her.
“Exactly.”
“What do you want to do first?” he asked.
Sierra didn’t hesitate. “I want to track down some of those cookies I smelled cooking and eat a half dozen of them.”
Grover’s lips quirked up into a huge smile. It made Sierra’s breath catch, and she swallowed hard. Damn, her plan to start as friends only with this man was in serious jeopardy if he kept smiling like that. She respected and trusted the Delta Force soldier who’d rescued her from hell…but this man? This easygoing, charming, gorgeous guy? He was going to be damn hard to resist.
He held out his arm. “My lady? I’m happy to provide an escort.”
Sierra hooked her arm with his. “Lead on. And don’t dally. If those cookies are cold by the time we get there, I’m blaming you.”
It felt good to be silly. It had been so long since she’d had the opportunity to tease. Most of the people she’d spent time with back in Leadville were somber and pitying, almost afraid to joke in her presence. As if her sense of humor had been beaten out of her while she’d been held captive.
For the first time since arriving back in the States, Sierra felt herself truly relaxing. She didn’t know if it was being here in this amazingly beautiful place, or if it was Grover. She had a feeling it was the latter.
Chapter Ten
Grover lay on his bed with his arm under his head and stared up at the ceiling. It was dark out and all he could hear was the wind blowing and cicadas. It should’ve been relaxing, and he should’ve been asleep at least an hour ago.
But he couldn’t rest. His mind was full of Sierra, how good she looked…how much more relaxed she seemed in just the half day they’d been here. Clearly she’d needed this place. With each hour that passed after her parents’ departure, the more it seemed her personality had come out. There were six other people staying at The Refuge at the moment, and watching Sierra interact with them over dinner was extremely enlightening.
The spark that had caught his attention when she’d been serving food back in that chow hall in Afghanistan had returned. She was charming and friendly, and within minutes of being in her presence, the other men and one woman who were eating with them seemed completely comfortable around her.
She was petite, but her personality and presence were larger than life. After dinner, she and Grover had sat on the back deck of her small one-room cabin until eleven o’clock or so. He could tell she was tired, so he’d said good night and headed next door to his own cabin.
Where he couldn’t sleep. Because the changes in Sierra, while wonderful, didn’t totally ring true. Not to Grover.
On the surface, she acted as if she was completely fine. But he’d spent hours on the phone with her in the preceding weeks, and he had a feeling she wasn’t doing as well as she was trying to make them all think. Hell, he was still trying to deal with his time as a captive, and he hadn’t been there nearly as long as she had.
If she wanted to do the fake-it-till-you-make-it thing, that was her choice. In the meantime, he’d watch and wait and be there if she needed him.
Grover was still trying to force his brain to shut down, to get at least a couple hours of sleep before he inevitably woke up covered in sweat from another nightmare, when he heard something outside. At first he figured it was an animal of some sort; Pipe had told them all at dinner that they frequently had bears, deer, and foxes show up around the cabins.
Then he realized it wasn’t an animal making those sounds. He’d been a special forces operative long enough to recognize the sound of sticks cracking under a slow, cautious tread. The careful gait of a person who didn’t want to be heard, but was doing a piss-poor job of being sneaky.
Grover was up and moving before he’d given it a thought. It took him seconds to silently cross to the door, though he wished he had his gun. Weapons of any kind were prohibited at The Refuge, which was something Grover actually approved of. PTSD wasn’t something to mess around with and having guns near anyone who was having a hard time coping with their demons wasn’t a good idea.
He looked through a side window and couldn’t see anyone lurking in the trees between his cabin and Sierra’s, but he couldn’t see the small front stoop at all, where the sound was coming from. He was ninety-nine percent sure whoever was outside his door was either one of the guys who owned the property doing security checks, or Sierra. It was the remaining one percent that concerned him.