As they drove back to the inn, Vick replayed the video he’d taken of Cassie over in his mind. While he appreciated the work of the shelter, he hated that such places were necessary. Too many men and women came back from the war without the resources and help they needed. In cases of substance abuse among veterans, many could be traced back to undiagnosed post-traumatic stress. The shame surrounding the disorder didn’t help, either, since service members often avoided testing.
In his case, he wasn’t given a choice.
His fingers clenched around the steering wheel, tension traveling up his forearms.
He caught Lucy staring and loosened his grip, but it was too late.
She must’ve put two and two together because she asked, “How long were you in the Marines?”
“Two tours in Afghanistan.” He adjusted his hands, airing out his sweaty palms.
Even with the windows cracked, and the cool breeze filtering through the crevice, the air inside the Jeep grew uncomfortably warm.
“What made you leave the military?”
At her question, a muscle in his jaw involuntarily flexed. When asked, he usually avoided giving an answer, deftly changing the subject.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, I completely understand.” Something in her tone shifted, revealing a care and thoughtfulness he hadn’t expected.
Most people asked him about his service with a note of morbid curiosity or inconsiderate self-interest, as though he owed them entertainment value along with their hard-fought freedom.
Remarkably, he found himself formulating an honest response. “I left on medical discharge. It wasn’t by choice.”
“Oh, Vick.” She breathed his name with so much concern, his own throat tightened. “Are you okay?”
Her gaze combed over his body, as if searching for a visible injury despite the coverage of his blue jeans and lightweight bomber jacket.
Funny how people always assumed wounds were physical.
Under her scrutiny, he shifted in his seat. “I’m fine.” His voice sounded strangely husky, and he was grateful they’d arrived at the inn.
He hopped out of the driver’s seat and opened her door, which had an annoying habit of getting stuck.
She slipped to the ground and met his gaze, hesitating as if she had something else to say.
At just over six feet, he had only two inches on her, which put her face dangerously close to his.
He noticed the subtle way she drew her bottom lip between her teeth, kneading it nervously. She gathered a breath, and surprised him by saying, “See you in a few days for the Readathon,” before scurrying toward the front steps.
Torn, he watched her disappear through the double doors in a blur of blond hair and the fluttering fringe of her plaid scarf.
The more time they spent together, the more conflicted he felt each time they parted ways.
He thought about the job application sitting on his computer at home.
It was filled out, he simply needed to press Send.
But something kept holding him back.
By the time Lucy entered the foyer, her pulse pounded inside her chest.
Collecting herself, she leaned against the doorframe.
She was falling for Vick. Hard.
And she needed to snap out of it.
The more she got to know him, the further she fell.
But now wasn’t the time to start a relationship, even if Vick was amenable to the idea.
Her last migraine had been worse than the others, and she wasn’t sure what that meant. Would they keep escalating?
The business card for the specialist had been burning a hole in the bottom drawer of her nightstand for the last several days, but she couldn’t bring herself to dial the number.
She hated the uncertainty surrounding the cause of her migraines, but a definitive answer might be even worse.
There was a glimmer of hope in not knowing.
Especially since one of the possible causes overwhelmed her with fear.
Her thoughts drifted to Vick’s medical discharge from the military, and a heavy weight pressed on her heart. What had happened to him? Was he really all right?
There was so much she didn’t know. And he didn’t seem keen on telling her.
“Lucy!” Kat called from across the room.
Summoning a smile, Lucy approached the reservation desk where Kat was checking in a young woman roughly her own age.
“I’d like you to meet Jayla Moore,” Kat said. “Jayla, this is Lucy Gardener. She’s our interior designer. All the incredible details you’ll see throughout your stay are thanks to her talent and vision.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Jayla offered her hand. Against her stunning dark brown complexion, Lucy noticed heavy circles under her eyes, hinting at fatigue.
“We’re so happy you’re our first guest,” Lucy said sincerely, already eager to get to know her better.
“Jayla is an American Sign Language specialist.” Kat spoke with an air of admiration. “She works specifically with women and children in shelters, teaching them ASL and interpreting for them. She travels all over the country offering her special skill.”
Jayla waved aside Kat’s praise, adding humbly, “It’s not as selfless as it sounds. I love what I do.”
Lucy studied her with fresh eyes. To think, at such a young age, she was already doing such important work.
Kat handed her a brass key tied to a silver cord. “You’re in the Zephyr Suite. Once you’re settled, would you like me to bring up a tea or coffee service?”
“Actually, after the long drive, I was hoping to stretch my legs. Are there any short walking trails you’d recommend?”
“There are several excellent trails around town.” Kat slid open a drawer and removed a rudimentary map. “But my favorite spot is right in our backyard.” With a pencil, she traced a path through the gardens, leading into the thicket. “Half a mile into the woods, you’ll see a small clearing, surrounded on all sides by towering sycamore trees. There, you’ll find a bench. You’ll want to sit directly in the center.”
Jayla raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued. “And why is that?”
Kat merely smiled. “When you get there, you’ll see. For now, let’s just say it has a knack for alleviating tired travelers and troubled thoughts.”
Jayla didn’t look convinced, but she folded the map and stuffed it into her purse.
Lucy couldn’t help thinking she should take the walk herself sometime soon.
Kat told Jayla about a few more trails before directing her toward her room. She waited for her to disappear up the winding staircase before gushing, “I’m so glad she’s staying with us! Fern adores her. She’s been helping a woman at Hope Hideaway whose ten-year-old daughter is deaf.”
“Wow,” Lucy murmured, still struggling with the idea of a child living in a women’s shelter.
“So, how was Yarnfest?” Kat asked, switching gears entirely.
“Um, it was fun.” Lucy’s thoughts lingered on Jayla and the work she was doing across the country.
“Did Vick come back with you?”
“No, he dropped me off. He’s working at the diner tonight.”
“Jack is really going to miss him. Well, we all will.”
“What do you mean?” Lucy straightened, Kat’s comment capturing her full attention.
“He turned in his resignation. I don’t know if he plans to stay past the end of the month. I’m sorry, Luce, I thought you knew.”
Lucy pressed a hand to the counter to steady herself.
Vick was leaving? And so soon?
She wasn’t sure why the news hit her so hard. It wasn’t as if she’d planned to stay in Poppy Creek forever, either.
In fact, now that the inn was up and running, her interior design skills were no longer needed.
And yet, the reality of them both moving on with their lives hadn’t really sunk in… until now.
Why hadn’t Vick told her?