diner and took his usual back corner booth. Sally, his golden retriever, took up residence on his boots under the table and settled in for a late afternoon nap.
“Hey, Mary. How’s business today?”
“Not bad. A little slow right now, but the dinner crowd should be coming in soon. Do you want the usual?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Mary brought him his cup of coffee, saying his burger and fries would be out shortly. Jack read the paper, drank the strong brew, and waited for his lunch.
The bell over the front door rang and the young woman from the SUV came into the diner. Careful of her movements, she lowered herself onto a stool at the counter. Very pretty at a distance, up close, she made some ember spark to life inside him.
“I’d like a cup of coffee and a turkey sandwich, please.” Her hoarse voice reinforced his earlier assumption she suffered some ailment.
“Are you okay?” Mary asked.
“I’m fine.” She lowered her head and took off her glasses, laid them on the counter with her purse. Mary poured her coffee and put in her order with her customary efficiency.
Jenna put her shaking hands around the hot mug and drank deeply, hoping the coffee would breathe a little life and warmth back into her. Not many customers in the diner at this hour. The fewer people around her, the safer she felt. The other customers, including the nice-looking man in the corner, didn’t seem to notice her. Sandy blond hair, a day’s growth of beard, and the bluest eyes she had ever seen fixed on the paper he was reading. Relaxed in the room and with himself, he conveyed strength and confidence. Nothing bothered him. It was in the way he took up the space in the booth. She envied people like him. She used to be like him. Once.
Jack couldn’t stop staring at her over his paper. She turned her head his way and he stopped breathing. Dark circles under her eyes marred her sickly pale skin. A dark bruise bloomed along her jaw, and a bad cut ran up her temple to her forehead. He took a closer inspection. Bruises speckled her arms, several more on the part of her legs revealed beneath the hem of her skirt. Her green eyes and face remained blank. What the hell happened to her?
Mary asked after her. She replied with an automatic fine, but Jack saw a lot during his life in the military and knew she was far from okay. She tried to hide it, but not very well. He wondered if he shouldn’t take her to the hospital. He checked the impulse to go to her and at least try to make her smile. She looked lonelier than he’d felt the last several months.
Mary placed his order in front of him and he asked under his breath, “Is everything okay up there?”
“I don’t know, Jack. She says she’s fine, but did you see her?” Mary whispered back.
“Yeah, I see her.” He couldn’t not see her. He tried, but everything inside him had focused on her.
After leaving his order, Mary, pity and sadness set in her lips and eyes, grabbed the woman’s late lunch and set it on the counter in front of her. The woman worked up half a smile, but it took effort. She nodded her thanks and ate her sandwich in silence with her head down. Judging by the way she put away her lunch, Jack figured she hadn’t eaten a decent meal in a while.
“Excuse me, do you know how to get to Stargazer Ranch?”
Mary turned from making fresh coffee. “What do you want with Jack Turner’s place?”
“I rented a cabin on his property.”
“Mr. Turner is sitting in that booth over there. He’ll give you directions.”
She laid a twenty on the counter, stood, kept her hand on the back of the stools for balance, and walked over to him. She stopped about four feet away and cleared her throat to get his attention from the paper he pretended to read.
Not wanting to make it obvious he’d been watching her the whole time, he asked, “Can I help you, ma’am?”
“Mr. Turner?”
“Yes. What can I do for you?”
“I’m Jenna,” she said, leaving off her last name. “Ben said he rented a cabin for me at your place.”
Sally got up from under the table and sat guard at Jenna’s feet. Sally rubbed against Jenna’s leg, and unless he hadn’t been looking at her face, he would have missed the small wince of pain that crossed