Steadfast Soldier
Rescuing people is his job…But the one person pararescue jumper Chance Garrison can't seem to help is his own ailing father, who refuses his much-needed physical rehabilitation. That is, until Chance hires unconventional occupational therapist Chloe Callet. To his surprise, Chloe and her sweet black Lab, Midnight, work wonders. And not only on the elder Garrison. Chance just may have met the woman who can get through his own toughened exterior. Can he persuade the lovely Chloe to take a chance–on him?
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âYouâre the only one here who totally gets me and my concern for these animals. Itâd mean a lot if youâd hike with me,â Chance said.
Chanceâs life had been bereft of joy for the past six months. How could she consider denying him this one small pleasure?
âI, um, Iâm not sure thatââ
He smiled. âPlease? For me?â He wove his arm through hers and slid his strong, warm hand down until their hands met palm-to-palm.
His touch branded in her a deep and irrefutable knowing.
This is meant to be.
Awestruck, she felt her heart leap inside her.
The world around the two of them faded away. All the personal protests and reasons she shouldnât ceased to exist in her mind. The chaos calmed.
All she could see was Chance.
Chanceâs face sent her pulse skittering. He gently drew her close. âWalk with me, Chloe?â
Her gaze welded to his, she felt a little dazed.
At this moment she wanted nothing more than to take that walk with Chance.
CHERYL WYATT
An R.N. turned stay-at-home mom and wife, Cheryl delights in the stolen moments God gives her to write action- and faith-driven romance. She stays active in her church and in her laundry room. Sheâs convinced that having been born on a naval base on Valentineâs Day destined her to write military romance. A native of San Diego, California, Cheryl currently resides in beautiful, rustic southern Illinois, but has also enjoyed living in New Mexico and Oklahoma. Cheryl loves hearing from readers. You are invited to contact her at [email protected] or P.O. Box 2955, Carbondale, IL 62902-2955. Visit her on the Web at www.CherylWyatt.com and sign up for her newsletter if youâd like updates on new releases, events and other fun stuff. Hang out with her in the blogosphere at www.Scrollsquirrel.blogspot.com or on the message boards at www.SteepleHill.com.
My heart, O God, is steadfast, my heart is steadfast; I will sing and make music.
âPsalms 57:7
Dear Jesus, thank You for being a fisher of men. Love You, Lord. To Mom and Dad, who raised me to know Iâm worth something in your eyes and Godâs. Iâm blessed to have you. I appreciate you teaching me and Lisa to bait our hooks and cast our own lines, even when one goes astray. Sorry, Dad! You wanted your ear pierced, right? Grin. To Rachel Z at Books & Such for your friendship, industry insight and career guidance. To Melissa Endlich and Sarah McDaniel for loving these characters and believing in my books.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to this bookâs research helpers:
âKim and Jeremy Woodhouse for your gracious insight into things boat-related. May all your bass be over ten pounds!
âMary and Ivan Connealy also for help with fishing-boat stuff. Ivan, donât believe a word Mary tells you about those silly Seeker-villains. Snicker.
âKim Lunato and Janet Klein for occupational and speech therapy research help, and Cara Putman for introducing me to these contacts.
âAnimal therapy expert Eric Gillaspy and Megan DiMaria for this research contact.
âTina Radcliffe for sharing the inspirational animal-rescue video.
âJanna Ryan for coming up with Chloeâs name. Thanks!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Letter to Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
âTalk about unconventional.â U.S. Air Force pararescue jumper Chance Garrison shoved the gauzy curtain away from the glass pane cooled by the overworked air conditioner. He blinked to make sure his eyes werenât playing tricks on him as he stared at what was coming up the yard heâd just mown.
He pivoted to face his teammate and best bud, Brock, who approached where he stood near the window.
âWhat?â Brock joined him and tracked his gaze.
âMaybe thatâs not her.â Chance pulled his sweat-dampened shirt away from his chest and leaned in. Yep. The womanâand the hairy thing dragging herâwere definitely headed up the long driveway of the house Chance had rented for himself and his dad, who was recovering from a stroke he suffered following the death of Chanceâs mom. âWhat kinda person brings her pet to work?â
Brock pressed his face against the window. âA cute one.â He shouldered himself closer and elbowed Chance out of the way, presumably to get a better look. âVery cute.â
Chance had noticed that too. But the fact that the pretty, young occupational therapist was lugging toward them the biggest, blackest Labrador retriever heâd ever seen was taking his attention away from how cute she was.
For the moment.
âSurely sheâs not thinking of bringing that animal in here.â Brock tracked the odd pairâs approach.
âShe c-canât. If Dad sees that th-thing in the house, his blood pressure w-w-will hit the roof.â Chance scowled at the stutter and eyed the bedroom door where Dad had retreated to watch midday game shows.
