Storm (Linear Tactical #10) - Janie Crouch Page 0,28

ranch had saved him, helped him re-center. But that didn’t mean his demons weren’t still around.

“I may not let the demons control me, but they’re not gone, that’s for sure,” he finally said. “They might never be. How could I possibly be what she needs?”

“Maybe what you’ve been through makes you more uniquely positioned to help her. Did you ever think about that? Your experience with trauma is first-hand, not something you learned in school like the therapists I’m sure she sees. You know what it means to carry trauma with you. Just like her.”

“But hell, Trigger, maybe she needs someone less damaged than me. I’ll never be some happy-go-lucky guy. I’m never the charming life of the party. Hell, large gatherings have me running for cover. There are still nights I wake up in a cold sweat.”

This was why he wanted to talk to Trigger. The other man knew what Noah was talking about without him having to explain the nuances.

“I hear that. But I have to ask… did Marilyn tell you she wants a happy-go-lucky type?”

“Well, no.”

“Does she strike you as the type who wants to go to parties and be around big groups of people?”

“No, I think two kids and a dog is enough noise for her.”

“Don’t assume you aren’t what she needs when you might be exactly that. Your Special Forces training instilled patience, consistency, and commitment in you. To a woman who’s been through the hell yours has, that’s worth more than all the charm and witty banter in the world.”

Trigger had a point.

Corfu and Thing One came wandering in from the barn and laid down at his feet. Noah reached down and petted both of them. “There’s more than she’s telling me, Trigger. I can feel it. Things she’s been through that she doesn’t talk about. Something big. Bad.”

Trigger was quiet for a long moment. “You know why you got your particular codename in the Special Forces, right? Storm.”

“Because I’m a badass, obviously.”

Trigger chuckled. “I know you think it was because of your name. Noah… flood… storm. But that was only part of it.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell, you were the least stormy guy we all knew. No temper, no drama. What you were was imperturbable. Solid. Good under pressure. You were the eye of the storm, Noah. The calm. That’s how you got your name. You’re still all those things. And those are the things someone like Marilyn needs more than anything.”

Noah stared out into the darkening sky. “I think you might be right.”

“Whatever her secrets are? Whatever it is she’s not telling you? You’ll handle it with the same calm and focus as you handle everything else. Because that’s who you are. Not being active duty hasn’t changed it.”

“Well, fuck, when you put it that way…”

Trigger laughed. “Inviting me to your wedding is all the thanks I’ll need.”

“Speaking of, I hear you’re not having a big one.”

“No, event planning is what Gillian does for a living, so she just wants something small she can enjoy.”

Sounded perfect to Noah. “Can’t say I disagree with that logic.”

“Did you just not freak out at all when I mentioned you marrying this woman? Fuck, man, you have it worse than I thought.”

Noah did have it worse than anybody thought. Because, yes, when he thought of Marilyn, he thought of the two of them sitting on this swing looking out over their land every evening for the next fifty years.

And it didn’t freak him out one little bit.

He didn’t answer Trigger’s question because he wasn’t the problem. Marilyn was the problem.

“She might never be ready. That’s a fact I have to face. She may never be willing to give someone her trust to that degree again.”

And Noah wouldn’t be able to blame her.

Trigger let out a sigh. “If this is the woman for you, then you take it one day at a time. Convince her she’s worth showing up for every single day, even if things never go as far as you hope. Show her that she’s worth the wait.”

“She is worth the wait. Worth fighting for. Worth fighting beside.”

“Then that’s what you do. And prove Storm can weather any storm she might ever have.”

11

Keeping New Journeys running smoothly was definitely a full-time job for Marilyn. Some days went without incident while some were infinitely more challenging.

There was never any predicting when a leak would spring up in one of the sinks or a window would get stuck and not close.

Or when one of the residents would decide to leave New