Stud in Texas (Rugged and Risque 4)

“Think he’s got it through his head I’m going to shoot first and ask questions later.”

She unraveled herself from Sam and walked over to the opened door on the driver’s side of her SUV.

He asked, “You a good aim, darlin’?”

She turned back to him. “My daddy taught me.”

Sam swallowed hard, then said, “Shoot him in the leg, not the heart. You’ll regret it later if you don’t.”

Sky stepped toward him and rested a hand on his biceps. “Did you kill someone when you were deployed?”

“Two someones,” he confessed. “My unit was ambushed in Afghanistan. Two of my guys died first. I had no choice but to shoot.”

“Wow.” She let out a long breath. “I’m so sorry.”

“I remember their faces. And even though they were the enemy, they were also human beings. Taking another life, no matter how valid the reason, isn’t easy to stomach or live with.”

She seemed to give this the consideration it was due and then asked, “You had nightmares about it?”

“Of course.”

“And you probably struggled over what you could have done differently. To be effective without…”

“Killing someone.”

She sighed. “Really, I am sorry, Sam. I can’t even begin to imagine… I mean you hear about these ambushes and attacks, read about them in the paper or on the Internet, but unless you’re personally involved, how can you possibly know what those who serve our country go through when in combat? When they’re in life-threatening situations? At the same time, how can you think that saving lives on your side means you did something wrong?”

His jaw clenched for a moment. Then he said, “Words help you rationalize, but you’re right… You don’t know what it’s like until it happens to you. Until you find yourself in a real-life scenario where you have no choice but to kill or be killed.”

She gnawed her bottom lip, tension emitting from her. Then she said, “Well, clearly I don’t want to kill the ex. I just want him to know he can’t fuck with me. Not anymore.”

Sam nodded. “I hear you.”

Sky raised her hand and brushed her fingers over his cheek. “You can’t blame yourself for the course of action you took out of necessity and as a survival tactic—for you and for your unit.”

“No. But it stays with you, you know? Sometimes it taunts you, even when you know it shouldn’t. I didn’t sign up to sit behind a desk, pushing papers. I signed up to fight a war. That equates to defending myself and those around me. Defending my country.”

“That’s heroic.” Her gaze drifted to the stable. “But the horses and I aren’t the only ones suffering from PTSD.”

“Slight difference, darlin’. I saw someone, when I came back to the States. Talked it out. It helped.”

Her gaze flashed back to him. He gave her a pointed look.

She said, “This isn’t something I want to share. I told you for a specific reason, but…I don’t like that you know something so distressing about me.”

“Maybe I feel the same way about you knowing what I did in Afghanistan.”

“You protected yourself and probably saved other lives.”

He nodded. But still, he challenged her by saying, “Exactly how big is your ex?”

She opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it closed. A few moments passed, and she eventually said, “Right. He’s much more than I can take on by myself, without a weapon. I obviously didn’t have my gun with me at the studio that night.”

He folded his arms over his chest and asked, “You really want to drive back to Luckenbach this evening?”

“Yes. I’ll be fine. I’ll even call you when I get there, if you want me to.”

“You know I do.”