ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening
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“Yes, Sir,” Stacy replied. Her expression turned thoughtful as she looked up at him, her green eyes wide and pleading. “If I promise to be real careful, can I shoot when you and Mommy do?”
“Oh, I don’t know. You’re just a little girl.” Damien appeared to think hard, rubbing his hand over his chin. He lifted his gaze to Laurie’s, obviously leaving the decision to her. But amusement sparkled in his eyes and his lips twitched as he stifled a grin.
Standing behind Stacy, Laurie smirked at her daughter’s attempt to drive a hard bargain and nodded. But her agreement was reluctant. Stacy’s fascination had not diminished but Laurie hoped she realized guns were not toys.
“Please, Damien?” Stacy cajoled, turning on her considerable little girl charm.
“Well, okay.” Damien gave in with mock reluctance. “But you have to do exactly what I tell you. Deal?”
“Deal!” Stacy squealed in absolute delight and unexpectedly launched herself at him.
She hugged him fiercely around the waist. Startled, Damien hesitated. Pain flashed in his eyes and disappeared. Laurie held her breath, her gaze riveted to him in silent plea. Stacy was so spontaneously affectionate she never met anyone who didn’t like her. A sharp withdrawal by Damien would only hurt and confuse her.
His throat moved convulsively as he swallowed hard. He lifted his stricken gaze once more. Laurie nodded encouragement. Damien pulled Stacy up into his arms, her feet dangling, and smiled at her. Laurie let out a sigh of relief and grinned at them. He obviously was not used to being around children. Hadn’t he mentioned teaching his children gun safety? Was he married? Was he divorced? Or maybe he was widowed?
As he lowered Stacy to the ground, she started to ask. However, one look at the pain lingering in his eyes as he watched Stacy scamper back into the cabin made Laurie bite her tongue. That was a personal wound best left alone.
Later Laurie listened in amusement to Stacy’s excited chatter. Her avid curiosity kept Damien answering questions about guns all through dinner.
“How many guns do you have?” she demanded, staring at him as he ate.
“Just three.”
Stacy barely paused, her eyes glowing. “Do you go hunting?”
“Sometimes.” His eyes darkened as he struggled to keep his answers simple and straightforward without scaring her. Laurie appreciated his sensitivity and winced in sympathy at his discomfort.
“I work for the government, Stacy,” he explained. “I use guns for my job.”
“I’m glad you have a good job,” she returned with a child’s simplicity as she pushed her empty plate aside.
Apparently stunned, Damien leveled a curious stare on her. “What makes you think that?”
Stacy cocked her head and peered at him through piercing green eyes that appeared to unnerve him a little.
“Well,” she responded. “You’re keeping those bad guys away from us. Any job that helps people is a good job.”
Damien swung his astonished stare from Stacy to Laurie. Obviously, he had never looked at being a Navy SEAL in quite that way. Laurie struggled to contain the amusement that threatened to spill out in laughter. There was nothing like a child’s logic to put things in ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening
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perspective. He was shocked at anyone seeing his violent profession as a good way to help people.
His comically stunned expression almost sent Laurie into peels of laughter. But his eyes reflected his struggle to keep things simple so she refrained, barely. He looked at Stacy again, his expression softer.
“It’s not that simple,” he began and stopped. At his questioning glance, Laurie shook her head. Stacy would not understand war and did not need to at her age.
“You’re like a cop, right?” Stacy persisted, her eyes bright with curiosity and approval.
“You catch bad guys.”
Laurie grimaced at his heavy sigh, sympathizing with his attempts to simplify his work for Stacy’s sake. “Yeah, I catch bad guys.”
“I’m glad. Somebody needs to catch them,” Stacy declared emphatically.
Subduing a chuckle, Laurie rescued Damien from her daughter’s inquisitive nature before he overwhelmed her by admitting exactly what he did for a living.
“Stacy, put your plate in the sink and get ready for bed,” she suggested gently, watching Damien. He was out of his element with a precocious child. Stacy reluctantly obeyed. Seconds later, she disappeared into the loft. Laurie studied Damien across the table. He had children. Why was he uncomfortable? What had happened to his family?