The Marine's Road Home Read online

  It takes a different kind of courage to open up to love.

  An explosion ended Jake Kelly’s military career. Now his days are spent alone on his ranch, and his nights are spent keeping his PTSD at bay. But the former marine’s efforts to keep the beautiful local bartender at a distance are thwarted by his canine companion. Every time he turns around, Molly is racing off to the Circle G looking for Skylar Gilmore. Maybe the dog knows that two hearts are better than one?

  “Actually, I think I’ll try a pint of Wild Horse tonight.”

  She moved the mug to the appropriate tap and tilted it under the spout. “Eleven whole words,” she remarked. “I think that’s a new record, John.”

  He lifted his gaze to hers, saw the teasing light in her eyes and felt that uncomfortable tug again. “My name’s not John.”

  “But as you haven’t told me what it is, I can only guess,” she said.

  “So you decided on John...as in John Doe?” he surmised.

  She nodded. “And I think that’s a smile tugging at the lips of the sullen stranger.”

  “I was just thinking that next time I’ll order a Ruby Mountain Angel Creek Amber Ale,” he said.

  “Careful,” she cautioned with a playful wink. “This exchange of words is starting to resemble an actual conversation.”

  He lifted the mug to his mouth, and Sky moved down the bar to serve a couple of newcomers, leaving Jake alone with his beer.

  Which was what he wanted, and yet, when she came back again, he heard himself say, “My name’s Jake.”

  The sweet curve of her lips warmed something deep inside him.

  * * *

  MATCH MADE IN HAVEN: Where gold rush meets gold bands!

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome back to Haven, Nevada!

  A string of failed relationships has convinced Skylar Gilmore that happily-ever-after isn’t likely to happen for her, so she’s decided to remain single rather than risk her heart again. Now the part-time bartender, counselor for at-risk youth and women’s shelter volunteer fills her days with work, family and friends. And that’s enough for Sky—until the night a mysterious stranger walks into the bar...

  Searching for a new purpose and direction after his discharge from the Marine Corps, Sergeant Jake Kelly packs his duffel bag, whistles for his dog and heads to Haven, Nevada. The scars on his body don’t begin to tell the story of the tragedy that haunts him, and the isolated ranch he inherited from his uncle seems like the perfect place to wage his solitary battle with PTSD.

  So what happens when a wounded warrior who only wants to be left alone meets a warmhearted cowgirl who always wants to help? After a few insistent nudges from an adorable yellow Lab, the unlikely pair just might discover renewed hope for a future—together.

  I hope you enjoy Sky and Jake’s story! And watch for my next book, Meet Me Under the Mistletoe, coming in November 2020.

  All the best,

  Brenda Harlen

  The Marine’s Road Home

  Brenda Harlen

  Brenda Harlen is a former attorney who once had the privilege of appearing before the Supreme Court of Canada. The practice of law taught her a lot about the world and reinforced her determination to become a writer—because in fiction, she could promise a happy ending! Now she is an award-winning, RITA® Award–nominated nationally bestselling author of more than thirty titles for Harlequin. You can keep up-to-date with Brenda on Facebook and Twitter, or through her website, brendaharlen.com.

  Books by Brenda Harlen

  Harlequin Special Edition

  Match Made in Haven

  The Sheriff’s Nine-Month Surprise

  Her Seven-Day Fiancé

  Six Weeks to Catch a Cowboy

  Claiming the Cowboy’s Heart

  Double Duty for the Cowboy

  One Night with the Cowboy

  Montana Mavericks: Six Brides for Six Brothers

  Maverick Christmas Surprise

  Montana Mavericks: The Lonelyhearts Ranch

  Bring Me a Maverick for Christmas!

  Montana Mavericks: The Great Family Roundup

  The Maverick’s Midnight Proposal

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  This book is dedicated to all members of the armed forces—and to those who love them.

  #NeverForget

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Excerpt from Her Man Behind the Badge by Stella Bagwell

  Chapter One

  Everyone had a story to tell.

  Skylar Gilmore knew it was true, even if a lot of those stories weren’t exactly page turners. Still, she was always willing to listen and fascinated by the characters telling the tales at Diggers’ Bar & Grill.

  From her position behind the polished walnut bar, she heard the accounts of regulars, less frequent customers and even the occasional tourist. To each, she offered a sympathetic ear without censure or judgment. After all, it wasn’t her job to counsel—at least not here.

  And so it was that she knew Chase Hampton intended to propose to Megan Carmichael before he’d even bought the ring, and that Erica Rainville had decided to leave her husband of twelve years—not because he was having an affair with his secretary but because she was, and also that Bobby Tanner and Holly Kowalski had postponed their wedding plans because they were unable to agree on when—or even if—they’d have kids.

  Bobby had been in the bar again tonight, lamenting the apparent impasse with his fiancée. Six years older than his bride-to-be, Bobby was eager to start a family. But Holly, the junior deputy in the sheriff’s department, wanted to establish herself in her career before she took time off to have a baby. Of course, that led to another argument, as Bobby expected that she would give up her job in order to be a full-time mother to their children.

  Sky had to bite her tongue when he told her that. It was the only way to not break her concrete rule about listening without judgment. She didn’t disagree that a job in law enforcement could be dangerous. How could she when her sister was an attorney married to the local sheriff? Sky knew only too well that Kate suffered through nights when her husband was called away from home.

  But Kate would be the first to say that marriage was a partnership, and though partners might not always agree, they should always support one another. Since Kate and Reid would be celebrating their third wedding anniversary in only a few months, Sky had to trust that her sister was more of an authority on the subject of marriage than she was.

  So instead of telling Bobby that he had no right to be making career decisions for the woman he claimed to love, Sky only encouraged him to keep the lines of communication open. He promised to do that, then finished his beer, tipped her generously and headed home to his fiancée.

  “Does everyone who sits at the bar spill their guts to you?” Kate had asked one night, after listening to Roger Greenway bemoan the emptiness of his life as he sipped his rum and coke.

  Sky couldn’t help but empathize with the divorced father who only saw his kids twice a m
onth now that his ex had remarried and moved out of town with them.

  “Everyone,” she’d confirmed in response to her sister’s question.

  Because it had seemed true at the time.

  Before she’d met the handsome—and mysterious—stranger she referred to as John. In the six years that she’d been pouring drinks at Diggers’, he was the lone holdout.

  She’d been chatting with Jerry Tate when the newcomer walked into the bar around 9:50 p.m. on a Wednesday night five weeks earlier. But she’d caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye, as he’d paused inside the door and surveyed the room—as if he was looking for someone.

  Just over six feet tall, he had broad shoulders that tested the seams of his long-sleeved Henley-style shirt, and muscular legs encased in jeans faded almost white at the stress points. The simple attire did nothing to disguise his strength, and she was helpless to prevent the quiver that reverberated through her system.

  And then his eyes had caught and held hers.

  She’d started to smile, because she was a friendly person and because it had been a long time since she’d felt such an instantaneous awareness and intense attraction. But he clearly hadn’t registered a similar reaction on his end, because he quickly shifted his gaze.

  After scanning the room, he squared those wide shoulders and moved resolutely toward the bar. His pace was deliberate, unhurried, and as he drew nearer, Sky noted that his square jaw was unshaven and his eyes were the color of premium whiskey.

  Despite the sting of his visual dismissal, Sky curved her lips again as the stranger edged a hip onto a stool at the bar. “Hi there.”

  His only response was a stiff nod of acknowledgment.

  “New to town or just passing through?” she wondered aloud, as he perused the labels on the taps in front of him.

  “I’ll have a pint of Sam Adams.”

  A New Englander, she guessed, as she selected a glass mug and tipped it under the spout. There’d been no hint of an accent in his voice, but his chosen beverage might be a clue.

  She set the beer on a paper coaster in front of him.

  No “please” or “thank you,” either, she noted, as he wrapped his hand around the mug.

  “Are you from Massachusetts?” she asked.

  “Or maybe New York?” she suggested as an alternative when he failed to reply, because New Yorkers had a reputation—deserved or not—for being standoffish and unfriendly.

  Still no response.

  “Rhode Island?” She grabbed that one out of thin air, hoping the random guess would get some kind of a reaction from him.

  He lifted his gaze, and she felt another tug, low in her belly, when those whiskey-colored eyes locked on hers.

  “I came in for a beer,” he finally said. “Not company or conversation.”

  She was admittedly shocked by his blunt response.

  And maybe a little hurt.

  Because while he was certainly under no obligation to want company or conversation, she’d been a bartender long enough to know that people usually came into Diggers’ seeking one or the other—or both. Those who only wanted a beer could just as easily crack one open under their own roof. Unless there was a reason they wanted to get away from home for a while, such as a nagging spouse or screaming kids.

  The Sam Adams–drinking stranger had no ring on his finger and no tan line indicating that one might have recently been removed. Of course, Sky knew from experience that the lack of a wedding band wasn’t necessarily indicative of anything.

  Since his remark didn’t invite any kind of response, she merely nodded and made her way to the other end of the bar to refill Ellis Hagen’s empty glass.

  As Sky poured another shot of Jack Daniels over ice, Ellis was happy to chat—even engaging in a little harmless flirting that soothed her inexplicably bruised feelings. And because she refused to let the rudeness of a stranger bring down her mood, Sky allowed herself to flirt back.

  Of course, it was easy with Ellis, because they’d dated for a while way back in high school. In fact, she’d lost her virginity in the back seat of his Cavalier after the homecoming dance in her junior year. It had been a mostly forgettable experience for both of them, but he was the first boy she’d ever imagined herself in love with, and she was always happy to see him at the bar and catch up.

  Tonight she was grateful, too, as her conversation with Ellis succeeded in taking her mind off the mysterious stranger so that she barely even noticed when he finished his beer and tucked a ten-dollar bill beneath the edge of his glass before walking out again without even a backward glance.

  “Who’s the new guy?” Courtney Morgan, one of the bar’s waitresses, asked Sky.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted, cashing out his tab and dropping his change into the tip jar.

  Courtney seemed taken aback by her response. “A quiet one, is he?”

  Sky nodded, though she suspected he was more than quiet.

  He was a man with secrets—and she wanted to know all of them.

  But she pushed him out of her mind, mostly, until the following Wednesday.

  The bar was busier than usual that night, because Duke’s Diggers—the coed softball team sponsored by the bar’s owner—had played a rescheduled game, after which they came into the bar for the free wings that were a perk of playing for Duke.

  “We missed you out there tonight,” Caleb said to Sky.

  He was the team’s left fielder—and also the younger of her two brothers, married to his high school sweetheart and now father to an adorable two-week-old baby boy.

  “You should have thought about that before you scheduled the game for a Wednesday night,” she said, tipping a second pitcher beneath the tap. “How badly did we lose?”

  “It wasn’t bad at all,” he said. “Only two runs. And they never would have got those two runs if you’d been on third.”

  “I appreciate your confidence, but it’s a team sport,” she reminded him.

  “And the whole team—even Doug, who filled in at third—wished you could have been there.”

  She turned the pitchers of beer so that the handles were facing him. “Go drown your sorrows.”

  He shook his head even as he picked up the pitchers. “I promised Brie I’d head straight home after one beer.”

  “Look at you—a responsible husband and father,” she remarked teasingly.

  “I’m trying,” he said. “It would be a lot easier if Colton would sleep more than three hours at a time.”

  “No one ever said parenthood was easy.” But she could see the fatigue in the shadows under his eyes and felt a stirring of sympathy. “You want me to put in a separate order of wings to go for you?”

  He nodded. “Honey hot.”

  Though not a flavor listed on the menu, Caleb liked his wings hot and Brielle liked honey garlic, so they compromised by getting them tossed in both sauces.

  “You gonna share those pitchers of beer, Gilmore?” Chase Hampton called out from the round table in the corner.

  “That’s my cue,” he said and headed off to join his teammates.

  Sky had just sent the wing request through to the kitchen when the mysterious drinker of Sam Adams walked into the bar.

  And damn, if he wasn’t even better looking than she’d remembered.

  She glanced at the clock—9:48 p.m.—and wondered if the timing of his appearance was a coincidence or if it was going to become a habit. And while she told herself she wasn’t the least bit interested, she couldn’t deny that she was curious.

  He took the same seat at the bar, gave the row of taps a similar perusal. “I’ll have a pint of Sam Adams,” he said.

  She poured the beer and set it in front of him.

  Raucous laughter broke out at the table in the corner and his hand tightened around the mug, gripping it so hard his
knuckles went white.

  “That’s our softball team,” she told him, not sure why she was bothering to explain. “Tuesdays and Saturdays are the usual game days, but the rain last week forced the reschedule tonight.”

  He didn’t respond.

  Of course not, because he only wanted a beer, not company or conversation.

  So she made her way down the bar, clearing away empty glasses and wiping the counter. The stranger finished his beer, put ten dollars beneath his empty glass and walked out again.

  For three weeks after that, his routine was the same.

  Every Wednesday night, just before ten o’clock, he came into the bar. Sometimes he was a few minutes earlier, sometimes a few minutes later, but it was always and only on Wednesdays.

  He ordered one beer, drank the beer, left a ten-dollar bill on the bar and walked out again.

  His routine was always the same.

  He never came in with anyone.

  He never left with anyone.

  He never talked to anyone.

  And after five weeks, Sky still didn’t even know his name.

  Sure, there were other ways she might have uncovered some information about him. Haven was a small enough town that she felt confident somebody knew something about the handsome stranger. But she wasn’t interested in gossip and she didn’t want secondhand information. She wanted him to tell her the secrets she sensed he’d buried deep inside—more important, she wanted him to want to open up to her.

  But she’d settle for his name to start.

  A few years earlier, after yet another failed relationship, Sky had decided that she was done with dating. Since then, she hadn’t met a single man who tempted her to change her mind—until he walked into Diggers’ on that Wednesday night.

  She glanced at the vintage beer clock on the wall as she poured a couple of pints for Carter Ford and Kevin Dawson.

  9:52 p.m.

  And here come the butterflies.

  * * *

  Jake Kelly slid behind the wheel of his truck, turned the key in the ignition and shifted into gear. Even as he turned onto Main Street, he wondered, what the hell am I doing?