He blinked at the seal. Such a small thing, yet it touched him like a stroke of her warm fingers over his skin. His chest tightened.
He looked up at Carson. “Mind if I…?”
He sat back, not bothering to hide his grin. “By all means.”
Using the edge of his thumb, Gabe broke the seal, experiencing a little pang like a bruise.
Her writing curled across the paper, lovely and neat, a schoolteacher’s dream.
Thank you for helping today. For treating my fears like they matter. For being a friend when I need one. And…more.
I hope you know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done, even if I’m not always great at saying it out loud. —F
He skimmed it again, reading between each careful stroke of the pen. He didn’t know her very long, or very well yet, but he did know that Felicity put a lot of thought into every word and deed.
He brushed his thumb over the seal again, the envelope slicing through any armor he thought he’d welded around himself years ago.
With a rough clearing of his throat, he slid the note back into the envelope and tucked it securely in his pocket.
Carson pushed away from the desk. “We’re going to find this person. It’s our top priority.”
“I’ll do anything to help.”
Carson gave him a brisk nod. “Right now, what do you say about checking out the new training center site?”
The question threw him. “I say let’s go.” Though his response was simple—words seemed to come as hard to him as they did to Felicity—pleasure rippled through him.
They took Carson’s truck up the dirt road leading toward the ridge. Pines swayed in the wind, throwing shadows across the landscape. The rush of spring mountain air streaming through the cracked window brought Gabe a wave of inexplicable joy.
This is what brought me back.
This and maybe some instinct that I might be really needed.
The new training center site opened into a long plateau carved naturally between rock and trees. The view stretched all the way to the distant hills, the sky endless above them. Little flags had been stuck in the ground at various points as guides for the foundation.
A contractor waited near his truck, a long paper roll tucked under one arm. As he and Carson parked next to him and climbed out, the man strode over to greet them.
“You’re just in time. We’re ready to finalize the layout,” he said without preamble.
Carson clapped his hands together, eyeing the plan like a little kid on his birthday. “Pat, this is Gabe Thorne. He’s working with us.”
Gabe’s chest welled with emotion. First, he had been a Marine. Part of a platoon. Part of a bigger picture. Then his world crashed in and he struggled to find any identity at all.
Being included in the Black Heart, in any capacity, made him remember what it felt like to be part of something.
They shook hands. “Pat. Good to meet you.”
“You too.”
Carson gestured to Gabe. “Walk the line with us.”
While Carson and the contractor discussed boundary lines and structural loads, Gabe scanned the terrain. The ground was a mix of rock and hard-packed soil, perfect for conditioning soldiers. From the elevation changes and natural cover to uneven surfaces, everything screamed potential.
He kept up with the guys, listening to their discussion, when a bright color caught his eye. He tipped his head to study it, and saw a tiny burst of flowers nestled under a jagged slab of rock.
Without thinking, he crouched and discovered a cluster of wildflowers—pale blue petals with centers the color of molten gold. Fragile as tissue and growing in a place that most things couldn’t handle.
He touched one lightly with a fingertip. Felicity’s face flickered in his mind—her soft smile in the truck, the tremble in her voice when she called the cops, the way she’d leaned into him without thinking.
