âThis isnât a good idea,â he muttered.
âI think itâs a great idea,â she said and smiled her wicked, innocent, sexy smile.
He clenched his jaw again. âThatâs because you donât know better,â he told her. âIâm too old for you.â
âToo old,â she echoed. âThatâs crazy. Itâs not as if youâre twenty years older.â
âTrust me, cupcake,â he said. âI feel like Iâm eighty years older.â
Angie rolled her eyes. âYou exaggerate. Youâre just finding your feet and way. Thatâs why you feel unsure.â
âI donât know about that,â Forrest said.
âWell, I do,â she said in a husky whisper as she leaned toward him.
âYou need to leave,â he said.
âIsnât that a bit drastic?â she asked.
âNot at all,â he said, and steeled himself not to respond to her.
âJust one more kiss,â she whispered in an inviting voice.
âNo,â he said, but it killed him.
Dear Reader,
I loved being a part of this wonderful MONTANA MAVERICKS series. Forrest Traub, the hero in my story, has returned from Iraq and is recovering from an injury where he almost lost his leg. He also struggles with post-traumatic stress disorder. I had the opportunity to talk with a soldier whoâd lost most of his rib cage from a gunshot wound, and he also suffered from PTSD. The adjustments he had to face after his injuries were unbelievably challenging. I was grateful to hear that the military offers support and actual techniques for how to deal with PTSD.
In my story, the hero displays a different kind of courage by starting a support group for war veterans. Have you noticed that struggling with a problem by yourself makes it feel so much bigger than if you share it with someone who cares? Forrest Traub may be a courageous man, yet between his bum leg and his nightmares and hypervigilance, he believes heâs in no shape for a committed relationship. Angie Anderson, however, is like a burst of sunshine on Forrestâs dark soul. But can she turn his jaded heart around? Maybe a little holiday magic can help them along.
Wishing you all the joy of the holidays,
Leanne Banks
LEANNE BANKS is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author who is surprised every time she realises how many books she has written. Leanne loves chocolate, the beach and new adventures. To name a few, Leanne has ridden on an elephant, stood on an ostrich egg (no, it didnât break), and gone parasailing and indoor skydiving. Leanne loves writing romance because she believes in the power and magic of love. She lives in Virginia with her family and a four-and-a-half-pound Pomeranian named Bijou. Visit her website, www.leannebanks.com.
This book is dedicated to all the veterans whoâve
returned from hostile countries who continue to battle post-traumatic stress disorder and to those who love them.
The truck they were driving was loaded with artillery, but there were several more in the caravan. In his position as major, Forrest normally wouldnât have been traveling, but there had been complaints about getting signatures for the items they were transporting. In the army, it was always about getting signatures, even here in the desert of Iraq. Enough crap about signatures, they had a war to win.
Suddenly, an explosion ripped through the vehicle. Everything blurred. Forrest raced out of the Humvee. A shot hit him in his armored vest. Another hit his leg. Again and again. His leg screamed in pain.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a soldier fall to the ground, then another and another. He tried to crawl to help them, but his leg was dead.
He was dead.
Forrest woke up in a sweat, his heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline racing. He reached for his weapon, but it wasnât there. He blinked and his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. He wasnât in Iraq. He was in Montana. He wondered if heâd yelled, and prayed he hadnât. He didnât want his brother to know that he was still messed up. He didnât want anyone to know that his head was more broken than his leg was.
He wondered if he would always feel as if he were riding the edge of insanity. Crazy, he must be crazy.
Snippets of his therapy skittered through his brain.
Youâre not crazy. When you wake up from a nightmare or flashback, remind yourself that youâre not crazy.
Practice your breathing technique.
Forrest inhaled and counted as he exhaled. Controlled breathing will make you feel more in control of yourself. Forrest continued the technique heâd been taught. He touched the quilt on his bed and rose, dragging his near-useless leg with him across the wooden floor to the bathroom.
Turning on the faucet, he washed his hands. The water felt cold and it took the memories a little further away from him. He stuck his cup under the running water and lifted it to his mouth, taking several swallows.
When would his nightmare end?
Forrest wrapped up his quick meeting with Annabel Cates, Thunder Canyonâs librarian and therapy-dog owner. âIâm glad weâre starting this group for veterans. Sometimes itâs just easier to talk when youâre petting a dog,â he said and couldnât resist giving Smiley, Annabelâs therapy dog, a quick rub.