Broken Heart Mended by Jenna Hendricks
Chapter 2
“What in tarnation is going on with all these blasted couples?” Sam Marley grumbled under his breath as he looked outside the barn door.
In the paddock, or the area that had once been a formal paddock but now was more like a staging area for whatever was going on at the time, a plethora of women and men stood dressed in their Sunday finest. But it wasn’t Sunday afternoon—it was a Friday afternoon in May.
Sam had just come in from a long ride on Jackson, one of the only things he enjoyed these days. Horse riding calmed him like nothing else could. But that wasn’t too surprising, since he’d come back from a war zone with more than physical scars to show his service. Service to a county that didn’t seem to care about its returning heroes anymore.
“Sam! Hey, Sam!” Dana waved at him from the paddock in her white dress. She was so beautiful and sweet, and one of the nicest women he’d ever met. Jerod was one lucky son of a gun.
He tried to smile for her, but he just couldn’t muster up the energy to move his lips. Instead, he walked outside to her beckoning call, hoping he didn’t have a scowl on his face but knowing it was there just the same. Sam could never say no to Dana. Not when she had done so much to help the ranch and its owner.
Currently, Sam lived and worked on the Crooked Arrow Ranch just outside of Frenchtown, Montana. It was a one-light kinda town nestled along the main highway and along the lower edge of the snowcapped Rocky Mountains. On a clear day they had a sweet view of the Great Plains, if one knew where to go. If he could choose anywhere to live, it would be here. At least the residents still supported and loved their military.
When Sam first joined the Army, his hometown had sent him off with a ticker tape parade. Well, okay, it wasn’t exactly a ticker tape parade in his honor. And he did leave on July fifth, so maybe the town’s Fourth of July parade wasn’t exactly for him, but he was honored to ride with the major in his convertible car. It was the sweetest ride he’d ever been in.
Somehow the mayor of his small town of Bensford, South Dakota had acquired a rare and beautifully restored 1960 Cadillac Eldorado Biarritz Convertible Air. It had the sweetest rear fenders with the fins that had brake lights in them. The custom paint job was a cherry red with a high gloss. The interior was all black leather, the soft kind that felt good to sit in. Nothing at all like the pleather chairs in the diner that made embarrassing sounds when you scooted across the seat.
Sam grumbled under his breath that right now, no one loved him or the fact that he served. Which wasn’t really true, but he wanted to feel sorry for himself since he was the only single guy in attendance that day. Even Mike, the quiet guy who preferred milking cows to talking to anyone—let alone a pretty gal—had a date for the big event.
Although, to be fair, Sam had never even tried to get himself a date. Why would he? A woman would take one look at him and run off screaming and waving her hands as though he was the beast trying to force her to stay with him and break his curse. Only, his life wasn’t a fairy tale. He was a horribly scarred beast. No kiss from a pretty princess or the love of a local town girl would break a witch’s curse.
His was a curse of war. The sort of curse that would stay with him until the day he died. The doctors had put him back together as though he was Humpty Dumpty, but it wasn’t enough. He had missing parts. Parts that had been replaced by metal and plastic.
And don’t even get Sam started on his mind.
“Sam, come on. We need you.” Dana took two steps toward the grumpy, unhappy man. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? The practice is going to start in less than ten minutes.”
“Honey, he’s fine. Let him do the practice in his Wranglers. It’s no problem.” Jerod nodded at Sam. “But tomorrow you’ll be in your suit, right?”
“Why do I have to wear a monkey suit? It’s not like I’m the one getting hitched.” Sam looked down at his boots and muttered under his breath, “I’m never getting married.”
“Sam Marley!” Dana Baker, soon to be Dana Stevens, pursed her lips and put fisted hands on her hips. “I don’t want any negativity this weekend. You will put on a happy face.”
Sam grumbled something incoherent.
With a sigh, Dana relaxed her pose. “Sam, aren’t you happy for Jerod and me?”
Sam’s head jerked up. “Of course I am.”
“Then can you show it? Just a little bit?” Dana quirked her lips and looked at Sam. Not with pity, but hope. She had always believed Sam could turn his life around if only he had a better attitude.
Megan Anderson, the ranch’s counselor, sauntered up in her flowery sundress and brown boots. She smiled from ear to ear. She was another one of those who’d recently gotten engaged and oozed love and happiness. “Sam, come on. Daniel’s running late again.” She looked to Dana and rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you walk me down the aisle in his place?”
Megan and Daniel were only one of the couples in the wedding party. Megan was a bridesmaid and Daniel was the groomsman lucky enough to walk her down the aisle. Soon, they’d be the bride and groom at their own wedding.
Daniel was the foreman at the local Christmas tree farm that had recently decided to expand into all seasons. They even had a plot of land devoted to spring and summer flowers. They were getting ready to have their first annual flower festival. And of course, the entire town supported their efforts.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Of course he is. He’s got a farm to run. Why can’t anyone understand when a man needs to work?” But he acquiesced and took Megan’s arm in his. “Where do we stand?”
The wedding run-through went smoothly, and when Daniel finally showed up it was to take his spot with the groomsmen so Sam could go and sit down. Sam’s job the day of the wedding was as an usher, which was why he hadn’t dressed up for the rehearsal—there had been no need.
The fact that Megan had taken hold of his prosthetic left arm hadn’t registered until he watched the couple walking back down the makeshift aisle. The wedding would be in the paddock area instead of a church. Then the reception would follow out on the grassy area where Jerod had put up a couple of large white tents.
The fact that he had forgotten about his missing arm for an hour wouldn’t really hit him until later, after the dinner.
Instead, he paid attention to the disgustingly sweet couple of the night, Dana and Jerod. Although, Sam couldn’t begrudge Jerod his happiness. Not after all he’d been through and everything Jerod was doing to help all those at the ranch.
“Honey, I can’t wait until tomorrow afternoon when you’ll officially be my wife.” Jerod leaned down and kissed the tip of Dana’s nose.
The action almost made Sam puke. “How can two people be so disgustingly sweet?”
Mike, who sat next to him at the dinner, laughed. “Sam”—he put a hand on Sam’s shoulder—“get used to it. The newlyweds will be living here at the ranch, and I’d bet big money we’ll see much more than a quick peck on the nose.”
“It’s s’posed to be a place for us to heal, not get sicker.” Sam grumbled and took a bite of the steak. Cutting steak wasn’t easy for a man with a prosthetic left hand, but Megan had worked with him over the past few months and he was finally figuring out how to get the fake hand and fingers to work for him.
The rest of the evening, Sam did his best to ignore the happy couple, to no avail.
The Crooked Arrow Ranch was a place where injured servicemembers could go when the military doctors had done all they could to sew their pieces back together. Some days Sam felt more like a Raggedy Andy doll than a human. He also knew he looked like the doll made of rags. Then he’d remind himself that he did come home—alive. He may not be whole, but he wasn’t sitting somewhere in a pine box with his momma crying over his flag. So that was good.
In addition to the physically injured coming to the ranch to heal and readjust to civilian life, those whose scars weren’t physical also came to heal. Sam turned to see Mike Blankenship, one of the guys who’d been diagnosed with PTSD, smiling at the happy couple. Mike rarely smiled, but for some reason the man was happy tonight.
Should Sam be happy, too? He supposed he should. Dana had really helped Jerod get through the final vestiges of his PTSD. Since Dana had come along, Jerod was happy. Shoot, the man was practically glowing like a teenage boy taking the prettiest girl to prom. Which was sorta what was happening. Dana was one of the prettiest cowgirls in town. If he hadn’t been such a curmudgeonly ol’ coot—Dana’s words, not his—then maybe he’d have had a chance with the pretty barista when he met her.
Nah, Sam wouldn’t have had a chance. And he didn’t want one. Still didn’t, not with the other pain he still harbored. No, women weren’t for him. Oh, he liked the fairer sex, no doubt about it. But they didn’t like men who weren’t whole. And Sam would never be a whole man. That was the real problem. Even with the fake arm the VA doctors set him up with, he wasn’t all there—mentally or physically.
And as his ex had told him, who would want only part of a man?
Thoughts of the Fourth of July parade sending him off reentered his mind, and it gave him a stomachache.
Sam remembered riding in the mayor’s car and waving at everyone as he passed by. The memory of one lady in particular jolted him. “Sam! I’ll wait for you, I promise.” Annabelle blew him a kiss that was only a sample of what had come later that night. She must have kissed him for hours before they were interrupted by her dad.
“Son, I know you’re leaving tomorrow to serve our great nation, but sitting out here in your car kissing my daughter for hours on end isn’t appropriate. When you’re ready to talk about marriage, I’ll be ready to listen. But until then, keep it wholesome and respect my daughter.” Annabelle’s dad didn’t exactly scare Sam, but he sure did have the stature of someone he didn’t want to mess with.
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry. I should have known better.” Sam ducked his eyes and looked at the disheveled girl in the front seat of his car. His heart had always pitter-pattered when he thought of that moment.
It was the memory that kept him going when he was stuck in the sandpit.
It was the memory that came to him when he lay there on the side of a road after a roadside bomb took out his Humvee.
It was the memory that forced him to stay alive. He wasn’t going to let her down, or break her heart by dying.
He mentally shook himself. The doctors told him to stop thinking about the past as it would do no good. Instead, he would work at learning how to use his left arm, or what there was of it, and then move on. Maybe he’d get a job on a ranch somewhere nearby, or maybe down in South America somewhere. Not speaking Spanish might make it simpler for him; he could focus on work and nothing else.
Until then, he’d have to deal with all these new couples.
Shoot, instead of Crooked Arrow Ranch, it should be renamed the Bachelor Ranch. Or Love Connection Ranch. Sam knew it wouldn’t be much longer before all his compatriots were either married or engaged.
The feeling of being left behind filled his heart, and he wished, not for the first time, that he hadn’t come home at all.