Free Along the Broken Road by Heather Burch Page A

must end. That’s what I tell them. “Keep your head down and your spirit up,” I say. “This day, like all others before it, will end. How it ends is your choice. Who you were this morning and who you’ll be tonight—that’s up to you. You can’t control what happens to you, but you do have a say in how you handle it.” Those are words for you too, Charlee. You can’t control what happens to you. But you do have a say in how you handle it.
    Ian closed the journal. This was going to be harder than he imagined. Though he didn’t know what he expected, Charlee was a lot more—what was the word Wilma used?—complex than he’d thought. And his physical reaction to her didn’t help. He’d heard so much about her, he felt he already knew her before he came. And seeing her, meeting her, well, he’d assumed that would destroy the fairy-tale person he’d created in his mind. She was just flesh and blood. He needed that fairy tale destroyed. Because he already cared about Charlee much more than he should. And because of her stubbornness, once she knew the real reason he was here, there was a very good chance she’d throw him out. Caught between two McKinleys, Ian had no clue what to do. On one side, there was duty. On the other side, a woman he’d grown to love from afar. There was no easy way out. If he’d thought the war was difficult, this was a thousand times worse. And he was the one calling all the shots. He had to go ahead and tell her. About the journal, about everything. He couldn’t wait any longer. Though there’d been specific instructions to let her get to know him before dropping the bombshell, it was just wrong to be here, to have this agenda and not come clean about it. He was going to tell her. At the very first opportunity.

CHAPTER 4
    The next day, Charlee was gone but had left instructions for him on what work to do for the day. Done by noon, he searched out Mr. Gruber.
    “Morning,” he said, at the foot of Gruber’s steps.
    Gruber offered a rare smile. “Nice work with Edward yesterday. I’m assuming you can cook.”
    “Yes, sir. I actually attended a culinary school before joining up.”
    Gruber pointed to his own coffee cup. “You want one?”
    Ian was already drenched in sweat. Coffee didn’t sound good. “No thanks.”
    “Why’d you join if you were in culinary school?”
    “Uh, well.” Ian sighed. “I got the administrator’s daughter into a little trouble one night and was given an ultimatum.”
    Gruber leaned back, brows furrowed and looking instantly angry. “You get his girl pregnant?”
    Ian blushed. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. I just . . . well, for kicks we broke into a college’s private swimming pool. I got stuck in a locker room when the door shut behind me. Someone called the cops and they arrested her. Didn’t find me. It didn’t sit well with her father.”
    Gruber’s face was twisted into a disapproving frown. “I expect not. You don’t seem like a rabble-rouser to me, Carlisle.”
    Ian nodded. “Back in the day, I was. Not now. Joining up changed all that.”
    “Yep. Had a bit of wildness in myself back in the day. Joined up at age seventeen.”
    “You were in the military?”
    Gruber sat a little straighter. “Beginning of Vietnam.”
    “Army?”
    “Navy.”
    Ian’s finger trailed the wood on the banister. He wasn’t here to chat about the military. He needed answers and though Gruber was a crusty, temperamental old man, he also seemed to be the one who knew Charlee the best. “Is Charlee avoiding me now?”
    Gruber was wearing a sweat-stained ball cap. He lifted it and rubbed a hand over the springy hairs on his head. “Ah, I wouldn’t think so. Women are easy enough once you understand them.”
    “And how long does that take?”
    Gruber’s face broke into a crooked smile. “Not sure; I’ll let you know when I get there.”
    Ian chuckled and set the rocking chair into motion. The squeak, squeak, squeak of wood against porch floor