Fourth of July at the Corral Read online

  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  Kudos for Debra St. John

  Fourth of July at The Corral

  Copyright

  Dedications

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  “I need to tell you something.”

  Tyler looked at her with those clear blue eyes. “Okay, but me first.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just want you to know that I thought about you every single day when I was over there. Every time I was home on leave I had to fight the urge to come here to see you. As badly as I wanted to see you, I also wanted to protect you from the chaos and uncertainty of my world. When I got out of the hospital, I wasn’t strong enough to resist anymore. This was the only place I wanted to be. I needed you.” The pad of his thumb brushed her lower lip.

  Pam’s pulse raced. Her breath caught. An odd combination of anguish and joy surged through her.

  “I can’t believe I’m really here. With you. It’s like nothing’s changed.” His mouth quirked. “I know I promised I wouldn’t try anything, but…I can’t help myself. I missed you.” His lips claimed hers in a tender kiss that ignited her body and melted her heart.

  Kudos for Debra St. John

  Ms. St. John’s book, ONE GREAT NIGHT was awarded First Place in the 2015 IDA Contest, Short Contemporary category.

  ~*~

  Other Books in the Holidays at The Corral Series

  available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc.:

  CHRISTMAS AT THE CORRAL

  VALENTINE’S DAY AT THE CORRAL

  And from the original Corral Series:

  THIS TIME FOR ALWAYS

  THIS CAN’T BE LOVE

  THIS FEELS LIKE HOME

  Fourth of July

  at The Corral

  by

  Debra St. John

  Holidays at The Corral Series

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Fourth of July at The Corral

  COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Deborah Rittle

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Diana Carlile

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Champagne Rose Edition, 2016

  Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0761-9

  Holidays at The Corral Series

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedications

  To the men and women who day in and day out

  put their lives on the line to ensure our freedom.

  Your honor, commitment, and sacrifice

  are not taken lightly.

  A humble thank you is not nearly enough, but I offer it.

  ~*~

  To John:

  Thanks for patiently answering

  a million and one military questions.

  (Any errors are purely my own

  or were contrived to fit the plot of the story.)

  ~*~

  Semper Fi

  Chapter One

  Would she remember him?

  Tyler Collins stared at the wooden sign outside the bar: The Corral—Steakhouse and Saloon. He’d traveled back to Texas for one reason and one reason only. Did she still work there? Over three years had passed. Three years during which he thought about her every day.

  More than likely she didn’t remember. After all, their time together had been brief. Less than two months. Filled with idyllic moments of sunshine and laughter before he deployed for hell. Memories he cherished and held close even now. The memories had gotten him through the worst times of his life, gave him something to hold onto when the rest of the world turned to chaos and violence and destruction.

  Every detail was etched into his memory. His heart. His very being. The dark chestnut of her hair. The light, soulful brown of her eyes. The way her lips went soft and pliant beneath his.

  She had to remember. Because they’d also shared a few moments of nerve-wracking anxiety wondering if the entire course of their lives had changed forever. No one could forget something like that.

  Only one way to find out for sure. With a deep breath, he shoved open the door to the Jeep and stepped onto the gravel parking lot. The small rocks crunched beneath his boots as he made his way to the entrance.

  “Grow a set, Collins,” he muttered. “You’ve faced way worse shit than this.” He gave a wry chuckle. Mortar shells exploding within spitting distance he took in stride. Talking to a woman he hadn’t seen in three years made his knees go weak. He ran a hand over the short stubble of his hair, threw back his shoulders, and walked in.

  ****

  Pam Foster nearly dropped the tray of drinks balanced on her right palm.

  She’d never forget those blue eyes. One, because even three years couldn’t erase the vivid memories of that summer from her mind. And, two, well, she looked into eyes identical to his each and every day.

  Tyler—yes, it really was him—strode toward her. Her brain ordered her to flee. Hide. Anything to avoid the conversation she prayed she’d never have to have. But her feet wouldn’t budge. So she could only suck in a tiny gasp of breath as he drew near, his gaze never wavering from hers.

  He stopped in front of her, close enough to touch. Pam curled her free hand into a fist to resist the urge. Then he smiled, that slow, lazy curving of his lips, and her heart tripped so fast in her chest the beats blurred together.

  “Hello, Pam. I hoped I would find you here.”

  The voice, his voice, was even better than her memories conjured at night. Because it was real. He was real. Standing before her looking so darn good she nearly dissolved into a puddle at his feet.

  His reddish blond hair was buzzed short. Long lashes of the same color framed his oh-so-blue melt-you-where-you-stood eyes. Broad shoulders strained a white T-shirt: a tattoo adorned the bulge of toned muscle stretching the sleeves. A silver balled chain hung around his neck and peeked from the collar.

  So very much the same, but with subtle differences. Older. The burden of experience shadowed his eyes. Even though he wore civilian clothes, the aura of a warrior hung over him.

  She swallowed and found her voice. “Tyler.”

  “Do you have time to talk?” He nodded toward the tray.

  Only then did she notice the trembling in her arm from keeping it aloft. She lowered it and grabbed it with both hands. The liquor in the tumblers shook along with her limbs. No, her mind screamed. She wasn’t ready for this talk. Not here. Not now. Not ever.

  Trying not to be too obvious, she took a deep breath. “Um, sure. Let me just deliver these and find someone to cover my station for a bit.”

  “Great.” Tyler slid onto the chair of a nearby table. “I’ll be right here.”

  Pam gulped. “Can I get you anything on my way back?”

  “An iced tea would
be great.”

  She nodded and headed toward table seven at the back. Iced tea wouldn’t be strong enough to get her through the conversation ahead. Maybe a Long Island Iced Tea. She’d have Nick make it extra strong.

  Luckily she’d waited tables so long she could do it in her sleep, because her brain certainly wasn’t focused on serving drinks. It was possible the trio at table seven got the right drinks, or had the cowboy in the white hat wanted the beer, not the whiskey on the rocks? Oh well, they’d figure it out.

  On the way back to Tyler—oh, God, was he really here?—Pam made a quick stop at the bar to fetch two iced teas. Unfortunately, imbibing while she was working was a no-no. She set the condensation-covered glasses on two coasters, then slid onto the seat across from him.

  Only then, when she wasn’t caught up in the intensity of his stare or the gosh-darn cute quirk of his mouth, and she took him in in all of his Tyler-wonderfulness, did she notice the fine webbing of scars across his right cheek. Her stomach lurched. “You were injured.”

  He shrugged. “It’s why they sent me home. They’re healing now. Sometimes I forget about them.”

  The overly casual tone and the way he refused to hold her gaze revealed the lie in his words. The scars bothered him. They looked fresh enough to still be painful, but she’d bet her Saturday night tips the emotional pain cut worse. Not to mention the weight of the stares from those around them. Which, as the spectrum of her awareness expanded to include something in the world besides Tyler, pressed on her like claustrophobia in a small cave. The weight must be a million times worse for him. How could people be so insensitive and rude?

  She leveled an unwavering glare, one usually reserved for Kyle when he misbehaved, at a customer who couldn’t keep his eyes off of Tyler’s face. Finally the man blinked and looked away.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Tyler shrugged again. “I’m used to it.”

  Unable to resist the temptation to touch him anymore—wow, she’d lasted a whole five minutes—she leaned closer and laid her fingers on his arm. Rough ridges of scar tissue lined the tanned flesh. “What happened?”

  “Our Humvee ran over an IED.”

  Pam flinched.

  Tyler covered her hand with his own. “We were lucky.”

  Lucky? The scars on his face and arm seemed at odds with the word.

  “All three of us walked away. Parker and Simon are still in Afghanistan. They sent me home on medical leave because I took most of the glass shrapnel from the windshield to the face.” The words were matter of fact, holding no trace of emotion.

  Pam swallowed the bile in her throat. More than anything she wanted to wrap him in her arms and comfort him like she did Kyle. She settled for squeezing his arm. There weren’t any words.

  Tyler grimaced. “You should have seen me before the surgeries.”

  “Surgeries?” As in more than one? No way in the world could she fathom what he’d been through.

  He nodded. “Two so far.”

  “So far?” The bad imitation of a parrot was getting old.

  “Possibly another next month.” He took a sip of tea. “Or I’ll ship back if they clear me.”

  “You’re going back?” Horror flooded through her and a wave of dizziness made the room spin.

  “I have six months left of my deployment.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe they’re making you go back.”

  “They’re not. It’s my choice.”

  Of course. She’d expect nothing less. But…she hated herself for the niggle of relief. If he wasn’t staying, maybe she didn’t have to tell him.

  Guilt overshadowed the relief. He deserved to know.

  “So…” With that one syllable, the tone of his voice shifted from matter of fact to something close to intense. The as of yet unspoken question following it bore down on her like a freight train thundering along the tracks at Cross Stream Junction.

  Her heart pounded in tandem with the clacking wheels. She curled her fingers into a fist so tight her nails cut into her palm. She wasn’t ready. She needed time. He couldn’t be asking about that. He couldn’t possibly know to ask. Could he?

  “Hey.” He squeezed the hand still on his arm. “Are you okay?”

  She took a sip of her tea. The icy liquid eased the dryness in her throat. “I’m fine.” So sue her for lying. “I just can’t get over you being here.” Talk about the understatement of the century. When he left three years ago she honestly thought she’d never see him again. Which is why she’d done what she had.

  He nodded. “I didn’t know if you still worked here.”

  “I love it here.” Aside from spending time with Kyle, there was no place Pam would rather be than in the familiar cozy comfortableness of The Corral. Then again, being wrapped in the strong arms of the man across the table from her might leap frog the whole bar thing.

  No. She couldn’t think like that. Things were way too complicated to entertain those kinds of ideas. He was leaving. Again. Going back to a place he might not come home from alive. And look where that had got them last time. Not that she regretted it. How could she? Not when she had the most amazing thing in her life because of him.

  “So…” he said again.

  Lord, how could anyone put so much weight and anticipation into one little syllable?

  “Are you seeing anyone?”

  Her mouth dropped open. Holy left field question. She snapped it closed. “No.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  Dammit. She should have said yes. What was one more lie between them? It might have made things easier, because as sure as there would be cowboys two-stepping around the floor Friday night, the next words out of his mouth would be…”Will you have dinner with me?”

  Yep. Saw that coming.

  Every fiber of her being wanted to say yes. Even after three years there was something there between them. A spark of awareness. A connection. The emotional pull she’d been helpless against as if forces greater than themselves controlled their destiny.

  But she couldn’t. His leaving for active duty again wasn’t the biggest issue between them. A lot had changed in the last three years. For her. Despite the scars, Tyler was still the same. Although he’d been through hell and back he remained a man of commitment and integrity and honor. Semper fi.

  He’d never understand why she lied to him about their baby.

  Chapter Two

  “You have to tell him.”

  Pam folded the small camo-patterned shirt and set it on the pile of Kyle’s freshly laundered clothes. She smoothed it with her palm. “I know.” She glanced at Mom. “I wish I knew what to say.”

  “You just need to say the words.”

  Kyle’s your son. It wasn’t even easy to do in her head. How could she possibly say the words out loud? Somehow she’d have to find the courage. The kind of courage Tyler embodied each and every day. She nodded. “Do I have Kyle with me? Should they meet later? He’s going to be so angry.”

  “Possibly.” Mom never sugar-coated things.

  “I don’t want him to take it out on Kyle.”

  “Do you really think he’d do that?”

  Pam waved her hand. “That came out wrong. What I meant was, once he knows, I’d want him to be a part of Kyle’s life. If he wants to. But what if he’s so angry he stays away because of me?” She grabbed a pair of khaki shorts out of the basket. “I’ve already deprived Kyle of a father for over two years. I’ve deprived Tyler of his son.” Something pricked at her heart like the quick jab of a knife. “They deserve the chance to get to know one another. I don’t want him—either of them—to miss out any more because of me.”

  After her father’s death when Pam was just a baby, Mom never remarried, but raised Pam on her own. It hadn’t bothered her having only a mom when most of her friends had a dad, too. It was just the way it was. She hadn’t lacked for love, and it was Mom’s example all those years that gave Pam the courage to tackle being a single mom. But now
Kyle had the chance to have two parents in his life. If she could step up and finally right the wrong she’d done.

  Mom laid a hand on her shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing. Everything will be okay.”

  Pam didn’t respond. What could she say when she didn’t agree?

  Later at The Corral, Pam repeated the mantra in her head as she waited near the entrance for Tyler to arrive. She’d craved the cozy familiarity of the bar, but having what was sure to be an emotional conversation in a public place wasn’t the best idea. So Zach had packed a picnic lunch. Maybe a stomach full of his famous potato salad would soften the shock for Tyler. With her stomach in knots, any food she put in it would come right back up.

  She grimaced at the less than appetizing visual.

  “Hey, Pam.” Tina walked through the double doors. She nodded toward the basket dangling from Pam’s forearm. “It’s a beautiful day for a picnic. You heading out with Kyle?”

  “Yeah.” Not a good sign the lie jumped readily to her lips. She’d decided against having Kyle there for the big reveal.

  “Oh, hey, who was that oh-so-cute soldier you were sitting with yesterday?”

  Even out of uniform, the way Tyler carried himself was obvious to everyone. But Tina had made one error in her assumption. “Marine.” The correction jumped automatically to Pam’s lips.

  “What?”

  “Tyler’s a Marine, not a soldier.”

  Tina frowned. “What’s the difference?”

  “If you’re in the Army you’re a soldier.” Most people incorrectly used the general term to refer to all military personnel. “If you’re in the Marines, you’re a Marine.”

  “Okay.”

  Nope. Tina didn’t get it either.

  “Well, anyway, is he a friend of yours?”

  “Sort of.” Had two words ever been so woefully inaccurate? But what was she supposed to say? Well, he’s the father of my two-year-old child, but he doesn’t know it. Nope. Not going there. ‘Sort of’ would have to do.

  “Do you think he’d be interested in being part of the parade on the Fourth?”

  “I don’t know.” Would Tyler go for something so showy? He wasn’t the type to call attention to himself, and with his new scars, would he want to be put on display so hundreds of people could stare at him? Doubtful.