Duty Bound

DUTY BOUND

By Sandra McGregor

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Sandra McGregor

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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PROLOGUE

Black Eagle One to base. I’ve been hit. I’m going down.

Roger that. Please verify your location. Only static answered the operator’s request. I repeat, please verify your location. The operator glanced up at the Colonel standing in front of his desk, his hands resting at his sides while a cigar hung from the corner of his mouth by a soggy stump. When the operator shook his head, the officer turned to pace the tent’s length before he turned.

Keep trying to raise him.

Black Eagle One, please verify your location.

Base, this is Black Eagle Two. Verify one chute out, zone three. Two minutes to objective.

Copy that, Black Eagle Two.

With insurgents on the move, the Colonel barked orders to dispatch the search-and-rescue team to the pickup zone.

The Marines never left a man on the field. Even if it's a cocky Air Force officer like Mason Sterling, he muttered.

The young soldier turned from the map of Afghanistan to focus on his commander. Excuse me, sir. Did you say something?

Nah, just mumbling about having to send the Air Force to cover our rears as we advance and then having to send in our Marines to save theirs.

CHAPTER 1

The elevator jolted as it started to descend to the baggage claim level. Mason Sterling grimaced, thankful that he was at the rear of the car and able to lean against the wall. It irritated him to feel weak after spending over a month in the Germany base hospital, after the two operations and before being flown stateside two weeks earlier, but the doctor said it was normal. Well, it wasn't normal for him and as soon as he got home, he’d be back on his own training regimen again.

He adjusted the crutches and prepared to exit the elevator. The last few weeks in Texas had pushed his patience to the limit, making him willing to submit to anything, even an experimental physical therapy and nutrition program, in exchange for being allowed to return to Washington D.C.—to his own home and his own bed. He knew how to build up his strength and stamina, but it couldn’t be done in a hospital. He would also benefit by getting out by the pool. He was looking a little pale—like uncooked bread dough, but the sun would soon take care of that.

When the elevator doors slid open, he gripped the handles on his crutches and negotiated a course through the crowd, a course strewn with obstacles. Mason frowned when a woman darted in front of him, taking advantage of a small opening, but causing him to hesitate and break his rhythm. Every obstacle had two good legs and didn't care that he was handicapped.

Mason cringed at the word, mentally rejecting it. Despite the reports, this was temporary. He had been wounded in action, but he'd soon be back with his squadron. He was not handicapped.

He found his luggage carousel, but held back, watching the mad scramble to grab suitcases, boxes and even a guitar, but once the majority had gotten their bags and cleared out, he limped forward, waiting for his to make another round and get back to him. Just as he lifted his small duffel, his cell phone rang. He was surprised, but pleased when Dale Mitchell's name was displayed.

Hey, Dale.

Hey, Buddy. The words boomed through the phone. I'm outside waiting in Alyson's Honda. Need any help with luggage?

Nah, I'm good. Be right there, he said, flipping the cell closed.

The day was suddenly brighter. This was much better than the taxi he planned to use to get home. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth as a picture of Dale Mitchell and Colby Jones flashed through his mind. The three of them had been young, idealistic and ambitious when they graduated flight school together several years earlier. With each choosing a different plane and thus a different base, their career paths differed, but they all vowed to stay in touch and always be available for each other.

Once outside by the curb, Mason leaned heavily on the crutches as the muscles in his thighs began to tremble. Dale pulled the car forward, stopping as close as possible before he hopped out and rounded the front, a huge grin on his angular face. With a playful salute, followed by a chuckle, Dale grabbed the duffel and tossed it into the back beside a child’s car seat. Once Mason was seated in the front, Dale stowed the crutches in the back and jogged back around to the driver's side.

Show off, Mason muttered as Dale slid behind the steering wheel.

Dale's laughter filled the car as he glanced over his shoulder before pulling out into the stream of traffic. I could run circles around you even on your best day, he chided his friend.

Delusions of grandeur strike again, Mason countered. I let you beat me because I didn’t want you to think you were wasting your time and energy on all that marathon training.

Yeah right.

They bantered as Dale negotiated the afternoon traffic, but Dale's voice grew serious as they neared the condos. Have they given you any idea when you’ll be ready to report back to active duty?

Not yet. I report tomorrow at Langley to meet with a specialist. I guess it'll be up to him when I can get back to my squadron, but as far as I'm concerned, the sooner the better, he muttered, a frown drawing his eyebrows low over his glaring eyes. I have a good team, but they need me back there, not marking time stateside.

Well, don't rush it. Take the time to heal properly or you might regret it.

Mason was too tired to argue. All he could think about was a good night sleep in his own bed. He'd get back into his exercise routine tomorrow and be back with his squadron in no time.

****

Victoria Connelly had only arrived in the capital the prior week, but with the help of her assistant, her office, the treatment and workout rooms were all set up, just waiting for the first patient to arrive. She had been elated when she recently received notice that her application for a government grant was approved. Now she was just tired. And maybe a little bit nervous.

The grant would allow her to work for up to a year with a soldier who sustained combat injuries, using her therapy methods and nutrition structure to get him back in action as soon as possible. If she achieved the anticipated results, the grant could be extended and expanded. That meant she needed to find an apartment closer to Langley Air Force Base. But for now, it was almost as convenient to accept the invitation to stay with her friend and commute back and forth. At least this way, she got to visit with her best friend, Alyson, and play with Alyson’s three-year-old niece, Katie, whom she had adopted after marrying the child’s father.

Victoria felt a wave of sadness every time she thought about the day the Air Force sent little Katie’s mother to active service in Afghanistan--an assignment she never returned from. At least Katie had her daddy and a new mommy, and was well adjusted and happy.

Victoria straightened her back, grimacing as she twisted slightly in an attempt to ease the ache from lifting boxes and putting books on shelves. She was physically exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sit in a hot tub and relax, but Alyson’s late afternoon call warned her that there might be another guest at dinner. Dale was bringing home a friend who was home to recuperate from an injury before he had to return to Afghanistan.

Crazy, she mumbled as she parked. She had worked with injured people for the past several years, but now the grant gave her the opportunity to try her new techniques on someone injured in combat. She was already aware that she would have to adjust her thinking in order to understand and work with this new breed of patient.

She slammed the car door and turned toward the condo, shaking her head as she compared the average civilian, who took as long to recuperate as their insurance allowed, to an injured soldier who couldn’t wait to get back to the war. Strange, she said softly as she tapped lightly on the door before entering.

I'm here!

I'm in the kitchen, Alyson called out.

Auntie Vee, Auntie Vee! A tiny whirlwind flew down the hall and into Victoria's waiting arms.

How's my big girl? Did you have fun today? At almost three, little Katie was a bundle of energy that kept everyone hopping.

Yes, and I gave my baby kisses, the little girl announced, her hands clasped together as her eyes widened and her head bobbed up and down in a nod.

Kisses for your baby?

The child's curls bounced as she nodded with more enthusiasm.

She means that she kissed my stomach today when I told her that I had a baby in there.

Victoria smiled at Alyson. You know, there’s a lot of truth in that old saying about pregnant women having a glow and being even more beautiful than normal, she told her friend.

Yeah, right, but thanks. Have you noticed my swollen ankles?

You’ve been on your feet too much today, lady. After dinner, you are to put your feet up and relax. I’ll take care of cleaning up the dishes and the kitchen. She shook her finger at Alyson, playfully glaring as she issued her order.

Okay, you win, she smiled. I have to apologize, though. I know you haven't even had a chance to relax, but I just called the guys and told them that dinner would be ready in about fifteen minutes.

No problem. Let me drop my purse in the bedroom and I'll wash up and set the table.

Thanks.

Soon the table was ready and Katie was clamoring to eat.

I’m hungry. She was already pulling the chair away from the table.

Please? Alyson guided her new daughter to remember her manners.

Please, mommy, she said, clasping her small hands together in their prayer position.

Sure, Sweetie. Maybe your Auntie Vee will get you into the chair? She raised her eyebrows and smiled toward her friend who immediately nodded.

Sure, she said. She hefted the chubby child and swung her high, causing giggles to erupt in a screech as she twirled her around before depositing her in the booster seat at the table. Here you go, Munchkin.

Victoria poured the child a small cup of milk while Alyson put vegetables and some small pieces of chicken on her plate and sat it on the dinette table that was tucked into the octagon alcove, just off the side of the kitchen.

Let’s thank Jesus for your food.

Together, the three recited. God is great, God is good. And we thank You for this food. Amen.

With glasses of iced tea in hand, the two women sat at the table with Katie and chatted while the child ate. So who’s the guy coming to dinner? Without giving her friend a chance to answer, Victoria narrowed her eyes. You’re not trying to set me up with some eligible bachelor, are you? She rather doubted Alyson would think of doing such a thing, but figured it was better to ask.

Goodness, no. Her tinkling laugh filled the kitchen as she vigorously shook her head. He is so not your type, she added, waving her hand in a dismissive flick.

She wasn’t sure what her type was, so she didn’t have a clue what to expect from the man she would be meeting soon. Good, she chuckled, standing up to turn off the oven before she glanced at her watch. You said you called the guys for dinner, but you didn’t say where they are.

Oh, he’s one of Dale’s best friends and they’re over at the other condo, Alyson tossed over her shoulder as she stood to retrieve the butter dish from the refrigerator.

What other condo?

The back door opened and the two men entered. Sorry we’re late, Dale called out.

Daddy! In a flash, Katie was off her booster seat and in her daddy's arms to be lifted high into the air to fly to the sounds of airplane engine noises and the child's high-pitched giggles.

I hope you know that she was eating, Alyson cautioned. If you’re not careful, she’ll throw up on you.

No way. My girl wouldn’t do that, Dale answered. His eyes never left the child’s happy face. Katie Ann snuggled her face into her daddy’s neck while her arms clung to his shoulders. His hand came up to rub the child’s back before he squeezed her closer, his eyes closing for a moment.

Victoria's eyes slid from the tender scene in front of her to the man who stood just inside the door. He appeared to be standing on the edge of the scene, watching and absorbing, but not getting involved as he leaned slightly forward on his crutches. He was smiling, but when he turned his head and his eyes collided with hers, her heart thudded even as his smile faded.

Despite his use of crutches, he appeared to be in good physical condition. A blue Polo shirt was stretched across his chest, but unbuttoned to allow her to see dark chest hair that matched the thick brown hair that hung down across his forehead. Her fingers curled until her short nails dug into her palms, reminding her to relax.

His gaze was direct and bold. With his buffed shoulders and chiseled features, she had never seen a man quite as striking and never had a man stare into her eyes with such intensity. Dark eyes bore into hers for a moment before his gaze dropped in a head to foot sweep. It took only a moment, but she had no doubt that he had cataloged every aspect of her appearance. After hours of physical work, she knew she wasn't faring well if he were judging.

When he leaned further forward, stretching out his arm in an offer to shake hands, she reacted automatically to mesh her palm with his as his fingers gripped hers, firm, yet gentle, and commanding her attention. A tingling sensation played up her arm and down her spine just before she shuddered. Her gaze dropped from his eyes to stare at his full lips as the corners of his mouth tilted up in a smile, mesmerized while his deep rumbling voice held her in a trance.

Hi. Deep crow’s feet fanned out from the corners of his eyes, giving her the impression that the man liked to laugh—or at least to smile. His gaze shifted to her lips even as his smile turned to a smirk and a gentle chuckle slipped out as her arms relaxed back to her sides.

Disgusted with herself for allowing the man to render her speechless, her cheeks flooded with heat, tinting them a rosy pink even as her eyebrows drew together when she realized he was laughing at her reaction to his touch.

Oh, I’m sorry, Alyson interjected, her eyes darting between the silent adults.

Victoria’s gaze shifted to her friend, but her mind was still reeling from the physical jolt her system had sustained.

I’ve forgotten my hostess manners, Alyson interjected, stepping toward the couple. Victoria, this is Mason Sterling. Mason, this is my best friend, Victoria Connelly.

Victoria’s heart missed a beat. Mason Alexander Sterling IV. Her first patient, the person who would help her prove she could succeed on her own, was standing before her. Victoria felt the slight tightening of his hand just before he released his hold and leaned back, straightening his back and lifting his chin. All traces of the smile was gone. She allowed her hand to drop slowly to her side as she wiped all expression from her face.