Five Months Pregnant: Can MADDY Save Cory from Himself?
Falling in love is “easy” compared to staying in love. Sometimes you’ve just got to make loving someone a conscious choice.
That’s where Maddy’s at in RANGER’S HONOR. Oh, and she’s also five months pregnant with Cory’s child! She can handle blood and guts as an ER doc, but how can she heal Cory’s invisible wounds?
I think you’ll find lots of reasons to root for Maddy as she fights to love her Ranger with everything she’s got. And it is a fight, as the scene I’ve chosen for you shows. In this scene, we see Cory unraveling from Maddy’s point of view.
In the next few weeks, I’ll share key scenes from both Chase and Ella. Until then—Enjoy!
Ranger’s Honor: Maddy
“Did your man find you the other night?” Maria said.
Maddy looked up from her clinic notes. “What night?”
“Couple nights ago,” Maria said. “The night we had the Code Blue.”
Maddy shook her head. Cory had been here? Had he seen the Code Blue?
“He was right here, watching it all,” Maria continued. “I thought you knew.”
There was only one reason Cory would willingly come to a hospital emergency room. He was looking for her!
But he’d left. Why?
“How did he look?” she asked.
Maria gave her a strange look, and Maddy shook herself mentally. “Never mind. Thanks, Maria.”
Maddy tossed her stethoscope on the top shelf of her locker, stripped out of her scrubs as gracefully as a baby elephant would, and made a beeline for her car.
Maddy used her key card to gain access to Cory’s apartment building. She knocked on his door, but got no answer.
He had to be here; she knew he was working nights this week, and she wasn’t sure she could muster the courage to come back again. She knocked harder.
She dug her keys out of her purse, then hesitated. Should she let herself in?
What the hell…
She got the door open, and poked her head around it. “Cory?”
Silence. He wasn’t here.
She glanced into the kitchen and her eyes widened.
It was a mess. There were dirty dishes piled in the sink, the garbage overflowed, and the counter was cluttered with take-out cartons.
Worry niggled at her insides. Cory was usually meticulous about keeping the kitchen neat and clean.
She stepped past the kitchen and sucked in her breath.
The living area was almost as bad. Clothes and towels were strewn over the couch and chairs, more cartons on the coffee table. And liquor bottles—lots of them—littered the floor.
My God, the place is a disaster.
This wasn’t like Cory. Not at all.
One spot on the coffee table was swiped clean. A single sheet of white paper lay there. As she approached, she could see the military insignia on it. Orders?
Her heart beat faster, and she held her breath as she picked it up.
They were orders. But not for deployment.
Command-Directed Mental Health Evaluation.
She nearly dropped the paper. Something had happened, something that tipped off Cory’s upline to his behavioral issues.
Maybe now he would get help.
Or he would rebel.
Carefully she set the paper back down on the coffee table and walked down the short hallway. A glance into the bathroom showed a similar sight; the usually neat countertop was scattered with the accoutrements that normally stayed hidden in the over-sink cabinets.
In Cory’s bedroom, military gear was strewn over the bed and across the floor. One dirty boot lay near the closet, the other by the door.
Dirty boots. Cory couldn’t stand dirty boots; he was practically anal-retentive about that.
Her next thought only served to ratchet up her concern. Where was his pistol?
She stepped over the boots and gear and yanked open the nightstand drawer.
Empty.
Is this where he keeps it? She couldn’t recall.
She no longer cared if she was invading Cory’s privacy; she started digging through his drawers, then moved on to the gear scattered about the room.
The more she looked, the more her worry turned to something more sinister.
“It’s not here,” she muttered.
His gun isn’t here. His gun is with him.
Her heart seized up and she stood stock-still in the middle of Cory’s room. What were his intentions, taking his pistol out somewhere as a civilian?
Every fiber in her body screamed that Cory was in trouble, big trouble. Her worry became all-out panic.
She had to help.
But she had no idea where to find him.
She stared at the jacket she clutched in her hand, her eyes focused on the Special Forces patch.
Chase.
He was the only one who would truly understand. The only one who might be able to get through to Cory.
