and weaknesses measured. This was about testosterone and tribe.
Rafe studied Walker. “Marines?”
Walker nodded.
“Same here. I was in the Sangin Valley.” Among other places, Rafe thought.
“Bad?”
Rafe shrugged. No war was good. The valley had been the scene of a dozen firefights, one of which had left most of his platoon dead. It wasn’t the sort of thing you forgot.
Rafe stretched out a callused hand. “So you and Jilly got hitched. That’s good. Nice to meet you.”
“Jilly says you were all pretty close when you were in school. I figure you could tell a few stories about growing up on the island.” Walker gestured toward a vending machine at the end of the hall. “How about some coffee?”
“Sounds good to me.”
Walker glanced at Rafe’s badge as the two men walked down the hall. “So you’re the new deputy. I thought Tom Wilkinson had a hiring freeze in place.”
“He did. But he had an unexpected dismissal. I saw him the day I got back, and one thing led to another. Here I am.”
“You don’t sound too thrilled about it.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad to be here. I didn’t plan it, but job offers are a little thin on the ground right now. Long-range reconnaissance skills don’t add much to a man’s résumé. But that’s not your question.”
Walker palmed quarters into the nearby machine, dialed up a cup of coffee and handed it to Rafe. “So what is my question, Deputy Russo?”
“What happened between Olivia and me. But you’ll have to ask her about that.” Rafe ran a hand along his neck and frowned. “One thing I can tell you. Nobody expects to see me on the law enforcement side of things. I had a wild and misspent youth on Summer Island.”
“The town’s bad boy?” Walker bought a cup of coffee for himself and walked to the window that overlooked the curve of the sea. Up north rain was still hammering the coast. Rescue crews were working hard to reach isolated communities. “Tom Wilkinson strikes me as a coolheaded man. I doubt he would extend an offer unless you were the best man for the job.”
“Maybe. Or maybe he was desperate.”
Walker’s eyes narrowed. “Desperate how?”
Rafe let out a slow breath. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. Ask Tom when you see him next.” He took a drink of coffee. “Thanks for driving Olivia home. I wanted to take her, but I go on duty in forty-five minutes. This storm has left the whole county in a shambles. It’s going to be a busy shift.”
“Doesn’t look like you had much rest last night either.”
“I’ll manage. It’s not exactly Kandahar.” Rafe frowned, staring down at his coffee. “It’s still hard to believe I’m actually home. Sometimes I smell the air and wonder what happened to the dust and the burning gasoline.”
Walker nodded. “Give it time.”
Rafe shrugged. “If you say so. Well, I’d better go.”
Walker tossed away his empty coffee cup. “Why don’t you drop by for dinner tonight. It won’t be fancy. We’re down to the wire, trying to finish the renovations on the Harbor House. The grand opening is scheduled in three weeks, and we’re not even close.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be working late.”
“Then come late.”
Something was happening here, Walker thought. He watched an orderly go into Olivia’s room. He noticed the quick way that Rafe turned to assess exactly who was going in and out of that room.
It was clear that Rafe Russo took his responsibilities seriously. That fit with the stories Walker had heard back in Afghanistan about forward recon teams. A man like that carried a lot of baggage. It was written all over Rafe’s face.
“Thanks, but I’ll pick up something at the diner on the way home. I won’t be off shift until ten.”
“We’ll be up. I’ve got plumbing repairs to finish.”
“I’m pretty good as a second pair of hands on a plumbing job,” Rafe said slowly.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Jilly’s making southwest lasagna with jalapeño corn bread tonight. I put in a request for double-chocolate cake to go with it.”
“You make it pretty damn hard to refuse.” Rafe hesitated, staring back through the door to Olivia’s room, where a nurse had wheeled in a cart full of monitoring equipment.
The frown on his face and the concern in his eyes chased away the last of Walker’s reluctance. “Then don’t refuse. We’ll be up and the food is guaranteed to be good. Jilly’s been testing recipes for a new project. She can tell you about it tonight.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” Rafe gave a little nod and headed down the hall.
He hadn’t given a clear answer to the invitation, Walker noticed. There was a whole lot of baggage hidden in those cool, distant eyes.
Walker had heard that recon teams who worked deep behind enemy lines sometimes dug into isolated mountain passes for weeks, forward observers in very dangerous places.
And Walker knew how hard it was to come home from war and try to remember that the world was a good and decent place. The change wasn’t easy. At 3:00 a.m., only ghosts and bad memories kept a soldier company.
Rafe Russo looked as if he had more than his share of both.
* * *
IT TOOK ALMOST an hour to finish Olivia’s paperwork for her release. But she balked at taking a wheelchair. “I don’t need one. I can walk perfectly well.”
Walker shrugged. “The nurse told me it was hospital policy. Something to do with lawsuits.”
Olivia sighed and then sat down carefully. “Fine. My shoulder feels much better already.” She hesitated and then scanned the parking lot. “Rafe left, I guess?”
“He had to go on duty. I invited him over for dinner, though.”
Olivia’s mouth tightened.
“Is that a problem?”
“No. Why should it be?”
“Because he said you two had some history between you.”
“We did. Past tense. He’s free to do whatever he wants.”
Walker rolled her toward his Jeep. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said thoughtfully. “You know, I dislocated my shoulder when I was thirteen, and I didn’t take time to let it mend the way it should have. I still have twinges in cold weather. So take my word for it, follow every instruction. Give yourself time to heal. You can’t cut corners with your health.”
“No work and no knitting,” Olivia said glumly. “I’ll go crazy long before I’m healed.”
* * *
“MORE TEA? HOW about another chocolate scone?”
Olivia smiled at Caro and shook her head. “I’m saving my appetite for lunch. But I could really get used to all this attention,” she joked. She drank in the wonderful aromas that came from the nearby kitchen.
Caro straightened Olivia’s heating pad and draped a blanket over her legs. “Jilly’s got something special planned. She’s been up cooking since dawn. I don’t know where she gets the energy.”
“You know Jilly. She has two speeds—fast-forward and out of control.”
Olivia surveyed the sunny room with quiet pride. The little café next to the yarn shop was almost finished. The freshly painted walls glowed,