Ranger’s Honor – First Chapters

Chase is a new amputee, while Cory’s war wounds are not as visible (but no less crippling). When tragedy strikes again, can Ella and Maddy convince them they’re still the men they fell in love with?

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© Tracey Cramer-Kelly

PROLOGUE: CORY

Boston, MA

Funeral of Sergeant Brett Michaels

A physical dread uncurled in Sergeant Cory Foster’s stomach as he took another step toward the flag-draped coffin. His palms were slick with sweat and he rubbed them on his military dress uniform. The muted sounds of a hundred people mourning pressed against his chest, and it was an effort to focus on the people standing to the left of the coffin.

Why couldn’t they just be still? Just for a minute. It’s all he needed to pull everything back inside…

He felt Maddy’s hand graze his and he grabbed onto it like a lifeline as he came face to face with Brett’s parents.

“Thank you for coming.” The woman’s voice was flat, as if every word required a monumental effort. Her eyes played over the medals on Cory’s uniform, then fastened on his name. “Foster.” Her eyes jumped from his chest to his face. “Cory! Please. You were there, when my boy…” Her breath shuddered dangerously. “Tell me what happened. Please!”

“Anne.” Her husband—Brett’s father—stood beside her, looking for all the world like he was holding her up. His voice was low and raw. “You know what happened.”

“No!” she cried. “It wasn’t enough…”

Cory didn’t know how to respond to the grief pouring out of this woman. This woman who’d lost her only son.

“I’m so sorry.” His throat was tight with his own grief, his voice threatening to break.

“Wasn’t there anything else you could have done?” she cried.

Her words hit him like a slap to the face, and he nearly took a step back. He’d asked himself the same thing a thousand times; if he hadn’t been focused on Chase, could he have done something more for Brett?

And Chase… he would be here if he could. Doing this far better than Cory…

“Anne!” Cory heard the shock, the hurt, and the disapproval all in that one word spoken by Brett’s father.

That didn’t make it any easier to respond, but he tried. “He didn’t suffer…”

Anne collapsed into her husband’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

Maddy leaned into the older woman, her dark hair spilling over one cheek. A sharp need jabbed through Cory. He wanted to give up control again. To Maddy. Just for a little while…

A vise tightened around his chest, forcing his breath to go shallow. He looked longingly toward where they’d parked the car.

I have to get away.

He gripped Maddy’s shoulder with more force than he’d intended. “I’ll wait for you in the car.”

He felt Maddy’s eyes on him but he couldn’t stop his feet from carrying him away. Away from the accusing glances. Away from the palpable grief.

Only to find himself locked out of the car.

He wanted to scream. To scrape his insides out with a primal howl. Instead he gave the tire nearest him a vicious kick that only served to radiate pain through his ankle. He swore at his foot. He swore at the car. He swore at the mud he’d somehow picked up on his dress shoes.

And shit, he could not catch his breath. What was wrong with him?

He slumped on the hood of the car, one hand pressed to the scar on his side, which seemed to throb with its own energy.

“Hey.” Maddy hoisted herself onto the hood next to him. “You okay?”

He nodded as he studied the mud on his shoes. Gonna have to clean those when I get home.

“What Anne said, it was only out of grief,” she said. “You know that, right?”

“It was a valid question,” he said.

“No.” Her voice had an edge he’d never heard before. “You did everything you could. You all did. Sometimes there just isn’t a way to save them. I know.”

Without warning, the weight on his lungs went from mild to crushing. His body bent forward, his mouth sucking in harsh breaths.

“Cory.” He felt her hand on his shoulder. “I think you’re having an anxiety attack.”

“Don’t diagnose me,” he snapped. “You’re not my doctor.”

She reeled back as if he’d slapped her. He cursed himself even as he pressed one hand against his chest. Holy hell, it felt like a heart attack!

He just needed it to stop. All of it. He wanted to apologize to Maddy but he didn’t trust himself to speak. There was too much twisted and rioting inside him, and he couldn’t let her see.

After a few moments, he heard her draw a deep breath. Heard the hurt in her voice when she said, “Let’s go home.”

CHAPTER 1: CHASE

Six Weeks Later

Savannah, GA

“Home sweet home.” Sergeant Chase Richards’ mom flipped the light switch, then stepped aside.

Chase maneuvered the wheelchair over the threshold and was stopped by a memory so vivid he had to clench his jaw: Ella, meeting him here, at the door, in nothing but a thong. Ella in his arms, pressed up against the wall…

He glanced at the leg that ended just below his knee, then at his left hand, which sported a heavy-duty bandage and bristled with pins.

That wouldn’t happen again.

The weeks at Walter Reed had been hell. The constant pain had worn him down, but it was the reliance on others to do even the simplest things—like getting his pants on—that had turned him into someone he didn’t recognize.

Didn’t want to recognize.

“Chase?” His mom’s voice pulled him back to his living room. “You need to take your meds.”

The pain medication that he couldn’t function without.

Even with it, the edge was never completely off. And his hand? It was worthless…

With the fingers of his good hand, he pressed the lever to turn the wheelchair toward the bedroom. “Can you bring it to me? I just want to lie down.”

The only good thing about the medication is that it made him sleepy. And—at least for a short while—it allowed him to escape.

He rolled himself to the bed. He eyed the disparity between the bed and the wheelchair.

He set the brake on the wheelchair, then used the nightstand and his right hand as leverage to get himself on his feet.

Check that—on one foot.

He hitched his hip onto the bed, then twisted his torso to slide his body onto the mattress. He bit back a groan as he lifted his stump onto the bed with him. Yes, it was definitely time for meds.

His mom entered as he shifted gingerly and reached for the sheet. Yes, cover it up.

His mom dropped the pills in his hand and handed him a glass. “You should call Ella.”

He grunted as he handed the glass back to her.

She crossed her arms. “If you won’t, I will,” she said. “She deserves to know you’re back. You know she wanted to be here.”

Chase closed his eyes, let his head fall back. “Mom. We already talked about this.”

“And I told you what I think,” she said.

It was easy for his mom to say… but he was the man, damn it. He was supposed to take care of Ella, not the other way around. He hadn’t wanted her to see him—to know what he went through at Walter Reed Medical Center—so he’d sent her away. He thought he’d feel better when he was released…

The bed dipped as she sat on it. “Sweetheart…”

“Mom, please,” he interrupted. “Can I just sleep for a bit? Please?”

She brushed a hand over his brow. “Yes, you need to rest,” she said. “Because tomorrow, you get your prosthetic.”

His new leg. It should have sounded good—it was progress, right?—but it was just one  more thing that others would have to help him with.

That Ella would help with?

After all, his mom wasn’t going to stay forever. And how the hell would he put it on himself, with a porcupine for a hand?

His eyes burned hot behind the lids. His mom fussed with the blankets, but his body remained rigid. Long moments passed until he heard the soft click that put the room into darkness.

CHAPTER 2: ELLA

Ella Foster pounced on the phone the moment it rang, like she always did these days.

But it wasn’t Chase; it was his mom. She swallowed her disappointment and answered. “Virginia? Is everything okay?”

There was a pause. “Ella, honey. How are you holding up?”

Tears sprang to her eyes, but Ella huffed out a breath. “I…”

I miss my man with every fiber of my body. I ache for his touch and sometimes I cry myself to sleep at night.

“I’m hanging in there,” she said. “How’s Chase?”

“Well…” Virginia said. “We’re home.”

Home?

“Home, as in Augusta?”

“As in his apartment in Savannah.”

Her heart leapt. Chase was here. “I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“Ella…”

Something in Virginia’s voice made her blood chill.

“He’s not ready to see you,” Virginia said.

All the breath left her lungs. “I… I don’t understand.”

“Honey, all I can say is he’s not in a good place.” Ella heard the strain in Virginia’s voice. “I pray he finds it, but right now…”

Things hadn’t been good at Walter Reed. She’d thought by leaving—by giving Chase the time and space he claimed he needed—that things would be better between them when he came home. It had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done.

And now he’d come home without even telling her.

He didn’t want her there.

The realization hurt so much it made her feel nauseous. She sank down onto the couch.

“Ella, I know you mean well, and I know you want it badly,” Virginia continued. “But coming over here won’t help. He’s just not ready.”

“Ready for what?” How could he not be ready to see her?

“For what his injuries mean to him long-term,” she said. “Ready for… well, who he is now.”

Ella didn’t care that Chase couldn’t go back to the Rangers; she was just glad he was still alive.

But he would care. He would care a whole lot…

“You know Chase loves you,” Virginia said.

Ella sniffed. “Does he?”

“I know my boy, and he wouldn’t have asked you to marry him if he didn’t,” she said firmly. “I know it’s hard, but you have to be patient with him. Men are… well, their egos are much more fragile than they let on.”

Chase? Fragile ego?

“He’s vulnerable and needy and he hates it,” Virginia said.

Ella leaned forward, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “What do I do?”

“Give him time,” she said. “He’ll come around.”

How much time will it take?

“You think so?” Ella said.

“I do.”

Ella pulled in a long breath. “Okay. For now. But I’m not going to do this living-in-limbo thing forever.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, honey,” Virginia said. “And when the time is right, you’ll have my blessing to kick his butt into gear.”

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