Page 8 of My Starry Valentine

But I don’t know him well enough to know how to proceed. My gut tells me to be forthright and state the obvious. But for some wounded warriors, this may be an unforgivable sin. I know this because my grandfather was a double amputee, and many veterans injured in combat visited our house.

Grandpa lost both legs to a landmine and spent most of his life working from a wheelchair because he found prosthetics uncomfortable. As much as he never let his injuries keep him down, he also despised people talking about them. I wouldn’t call him a proud man, but he told me once that he was tired of his missing legs being the icebreaker for every conversation with every person on the planet. I wonder if Ledger feels the same way.

Chapter Six

LUNA

Ledger’s rich, masculine voice draws me back from my thoughts. “Excuse my poor manners. I don’t get a lot of guests up this way. May I offer you something to drink or eat? Beer and pizza, maybe?”

“What kind of beer?”

“A variety of local brews,” he says. “You’ll have to check out the fridge if you’re picky.”

“I’m not picky as long as they’re not too hopsy.”

“So, no IPAs. I think I can swing that.”

“Thank you.”

The corners of his mouth turn up almost imperceptibly, although his gaze remains trained ahead as he strides past me into the kitchen. “There’s a bathroom down the hallway with towels and everything you need for a shower. Please make yourself at home.”

My heart pounds against my ribs as I take in his handsome, rugged profile. Squeezing my hands tightly together, I say, “You mentioned something about a satellite phone. Is that something I could use before I take a shower? Because I’m supposed to be at the hospital right now, and the last thing I want is everyone worrying about me when I don’t show up.”

“The hospital?” he asks, his brows knitting together.

“Yes, my best friend Naomi and I were out cross-country skiing today when there was a terrible accident…” The tremble in my voice stops me.

He moves a step closer to me, turning ever so slightly to make eye contact with me and giving me the slimmest glimpse of his injured side.

“Yes, she broke her ankle, and it took hours for search and rescue to get to us.” I bite my lower lip, holding back a sob.

“How bad was the break?” he asks, frowning.

“It was a compound fracture.”

He grimaces, moving closer until he stands in front of me. He hesitates before tentatively touching my upper arm and rubbing it reassuringly. My heart pounds wildly, my flesh igniting beneath his fingers despite the thin layer of sleeve between us.

“How did she get to the hospital?”

“The plan was Ouray Mountain Rescue would take her by LiteTrax down the mountain, and I’d meet her at the hospital in Montrose. So, if I could use your satellite phone, it would be appreciated.”

“Of course,” he says, letting his hand drop as he sweeps past me into the kitchen, grabbing a black device from the top of the fridge. As he hands the bulky phone to me, our fingers accidentally brush, making my cheeks burn and a muscle jump along his square-cut, bearded jawline.

Looking down at the screen and buttons, I freeze. “I’ve never used a satellite phone before. Can you help me?”

“Sure. We have to bundle back up and head outside, though.”

After quietly putting our coats and boots on, Ledger offers his arm, leading me into the blizzard until we find a clear spot, or at least what he says would be a clear spot, if it wasn’t storming. I’m skeptical the phone will work in this weather, but he reassures me it will.

He talks me through turning it on, extending the antenna, and waiting for a connection. I dial Naomi’s cell phone number. Five call attempts later, she finally answers.

“Babe, what number are you calling me from? Where are you?” Her voice sounds surprised and relieved.

I plug my ear, yelling over the blizzard’s gusts. “I got stuck in the blizzard driving back to Ouray. But this nice cowboy-mountain-man rescued me. I’m safe now, but this weather’s awful. So, don’t expect me to make it to Montrose anytime soon. What are they saying about your ankle?”

“Okay, wait a sec…” she says, clearing her throat. “What’s a cowboy-mountain-man, and is he cute?”

Her question makes me painfully aware of the big Marine standing a little distance away but still within hearing range. “I’ll explain later, and yes. Very much so.”

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