Serving Trouble(14)
“I could use a few minutes of shut-eye,” he admitted. “I have a meeting with Fern’s Brewery in the morning. Think you can be accurate with the list?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve been counting since grade school,” she said, making a mental note to attend the meeting with him. He’d been joking about a promotion. But one day soon he might need an assistant manager to handle the ordering. And before she had dropped out of college, she’d been on her way to earning a degree in business management and marketing.
“When is the meeting?” she asked.
“Nine,” he said with a sigh. “But they’re located up near Portland. Long drive.”
“I could drive,” she offered. “And you could sleep along the way.”
“Jesus, you really are angling for a promotion, aren’t you,” he said.
“Is that a yes?”
“I’ll think about it.” Then he turned to the door. “I’m going to crash in my truck. Wake me before we open.”
Chapter Five
WAKE UP, SLEEPING BEAUTY.
The memory of her soft voice floated through his dream. Hours earlier, before the sun sank behind the mountains for the night, Josie had knocked on his truck window. He’d been locked in a dreamscape filled with one boom after another—an attack so vivid he could almost smell the burning canvas of the tent the insurgents had managed to hit with the rocket fire. Caroline had been by his side, shouldering an M16 while wiping away tears . . .
Caroline.
Noah opened his eyes and stared out into the bright morning sky. Right now, Josie wasn’t standing outside his truck ready to drag his ass into the bar when all he wanted to do was pull her in and lose himself in her soft curves. To hell with the fact she worked for him. To hell with Dominic and the shit storm he’d rain down on Noah for laying a finger on his sister. To hell with the last five years.
He ran a hand over his face. Sometimes he wished he’d never left the barn that night five years ago. If he could have stayed there with Josie, keeping everyone else on the other side . . . but damn, he couldn’t live the rest of his life believing he could save the world. Tonight marked night five and he couldn’t even find the one person he wanted to help.
Last night, after he’d followed Josie into the bar—which she’d set up for the busy shift after she’d completed his inventory and done a helluva lot better job than he could have—he’d endured hours of watching her move and smile at the customers. He’d closed up early and then, he’d gone to meet up with Josh Summers. Together, they’d searched another section of Oregon timber country for Caroline, who sure as shit acted like she didn’t want to be found. He’d driven home close to dawn, parked his truck beside the barn, and rested his eyes for a minute. That minute had extended until the memory of Josie woke him, sporting a whole world of wanting.
He adjusted himself and opened the truck door. As he stepped down, he glanced at the barn. Shit, the light was on again. Had his father wandered out? Not likely. His old man had a hard time navigating the gravel separating the house from the barn with the walker the doctors had insisted he use after the fall. And they didn’t keep animals in there anymore. Too much work.
The side door opened before he reached the structure and a familiar face peered out.
“Caroline?” He stopped four feet from the barn and stared. “How the hell—”
“I had your address,” she said, her voice soft. Her mouth formed a thin line. Freckles dotted her nose, suggesting her fair skin had been exposed to the elements for a while. And her long dark hair, which he’d grown accustomed to being pulled back in a tight bun, now flowed loose around her shoulders. He didn’t know much about women’s hair, but he knew she needed a brush, and maybe a pair of scissors.
She wore black pants, a baggy black T-shirt, and combat boots. The clothes were three, maybe four sizes too large for her frame. Between Caroline’s height—she stood roughly as tall as Josie—and her delicate girl-next-door features, she’d always looked like she belonged in Disney World playing a fairy-tale princess, not in the US Marine Corps.
“So you walked here from where?” he asked, focusing his sleep-deprived brain. He moved closer to her, but stayed out of arm’s reach. He wanted to offer her the illusion of safety. He couldn’t make promises, but he doubted there were threats hiding in the barn. He’d been home for months and the only things he’d found were some old furniture, the mechanical bull, and memories.