Falling For The Hometown Hero

The Soldier’s Second Chance

After returning home wounded from an IED attack, former soldier Kaleb Palmer is hailed as a hero. But survivor’s guilt makes him feel like a fraud. He hopes setting up a business in Ouray, Colorado, will give him a purpose and help him forget. But his new office manager has her own plans. Grace McAllen brings light and hope wherever she goes, and she’s getting Kaleb to open up. As she helps him make Mountain View Jeep Tours a success, Kaleb realizes a happy ending is in reach, if he can convince Grace to stay in town—and his life—forever.

“Are you sure you’re all right, Grace?”

Kaleb was the kind of guy who would listen attentively and do his best to comfort her. And the comforting was what worried Grace. It would be so easy to fall into his strong arms and believe that all was right with the world.

So, for her boss’s sake as much as her own, she’d just have to fake it. “Yeah. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

“I hope you’re not getting sick.” He moved toward her, his concern mounting.

“I’m fine. I just…” Tell him. Give the guy a chance. “I didn’t sleep well last night.” No fibbing there.

Wiping his hands on a shop rag, he continued to study her. “That would explain the bags under your eyes.”

Did he just…? “Bags? What do you mean?”

He laughed. “There’s the spitfire we all know and love.”

Love?

Still laughing, he closed the distance and gave her a hug. “Sleep well, Grace.” He smelled of fresh air and masculinity. She missed him as soon as he stepped away. “And remember, I’m always here if you need me.”

It took MINDY OBENHAUS forty years to figure out what she wanted to do when she grew up. But once God called her to write, she never looked back. She’s passionate about touching readers with biblical truths in an entertaining, and sometimes adventurous, manner. Mindy lives in Texas with her husband and kids. When she’s not writing, she enjoys cooking and spending time with her grandchildren. Find more at mindyobenhaus.com.

Falling for the Hometown Hero

Mindy Obenhaus

www.millsandboon.co.uk

He heals the brokenhearted

and binds up their wounds.

—Psalms 147:3

To all of our wounded warriors.

May God bless you richly.

Acknowledgments

For Your glory, Lord.

To my amazing husband, Richard. I am so blessed to have you in my life. Your support carries me through the toughest of times. Thank you for countless brainstorming lunches and for your desire to help me achieve my goals.

To my guys, Ryan and Michael: y’all endured countless leftovers, pizza and pot pies and had to forego many a homemade treat for this one. Thanks for allowing me to do what I do.

Thanks to Lisa Jordan for stepping in the gap and allowing me the privilege of being your “Rachel.”

To Becky Yauger: missed you, girl. So glad you’re back.

Thank you Robert and Mary Ellen Bolton, motorcycle couple extraordinaire, for enlightening me on the world of motorcycle travel.

Many thanks to Vanessa Villanueva, LVN, and Yvonne Brefo, RN, for the medical info.

To Brandy Ross for rockin’ the pink shirt and putting up with the silliest of questions.

To Ted and Betty Wolfe for your friendship and guidance.

To Noah Galloway: I knew nothing about you when I started this book, but seeing you on Dancing with the Stars gave me so much more insight. You are an inspiration to all of us.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Acknowledgments

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

Epilogue

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

His dream had come true.

As a kid growing up in Ouray, Colorado, Kaleb Palmer dreamed of owning a Jeep tour company. Of sharing the history and beauty of the San Juan Mountains with others. That dream had kept him going during the darkest time of his life and, finally, it had become a reality.

The online reviews said Mountain View Tours had terrible service.

The whispered words of a passerby echoed through his mind as he leaned the freshly painted wooden sign that read Under New Ownership beside the entrance. If they only knew. He’d had plenty of experience overcoming adversity.

Returning to the open bay of the garage, Kaleb tugged a shop rag from the back pocket of his jeans and rubbed the smudges of red paint from his fingers.

Excitement coursed through his veins, as it had so many times since purchasing Mountain View Tours a few months ago. It would take time to rebuild the company’s tarnished reputation. And with the Jeeping season lasting less than five months, time wasn’t exactly on Kaleb’s side. There were loans to be paid, and he would not let his investors down. How could he when they’d given him the courage and financial backing to follow his dream?

The late afternoon sun had him rolling up the sleeves of his tan work shirt as he looked out over Main Street, surveying Ouray’s colorful Victorian buildings. Now that May had arrived, businesses that had closed for the winter were primping for the upcoming high season. All over town, folks were painting, planting flowers and sprucing up in preparation for the thousands of people who would flock to the Switzerland of America over the next few months.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a black motorcycle easing alongside the curb in front of his business. A potential customer, perhaps. Either way, his pulse kicked up a notch. This wasn’t just any motorcycle. It was a sleek BMW K 100 LT, a touring motorcycle that put all other motorcycles to shame in his book.

As a teenager, he yearned for the day he’d own one and had even contemplated purchasing that very model once he left the army. How he’d longed to conquer the Million Dollar Highway that wound its way through the mountains south of town, leaning the machine into every hairpin curve.

Of course, that was back when he had two legs.

Absently rubbing his left thigh, where his stump and prosthetic met, he watched the leather-clad, undeniably female figure dismount the bike that was bigger than her. Was she traveling alone or waiting for someone to join her?

The woman removed her helmet then, allowing her dark hair to tumble halfway down her back.

Kaleb’s breath left him. He swallowed hard, the reaction taking him by surprise. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had that kind of effect on him. Especially one he’d never met.

She looked up and down the street, allowing him a glimpse of her face. Much younger than he would have expected. And while he couldn’t put his finger on it, there was something about her that intrigued him. The determined square of her shoulders, the confidence in her stance.

Again wiping his hands, he pretended not to notice as she left her helmet on the bike and started in the direction of Mountain View Tours’ front office. Maybe this was the day he’d book his first tour.

Leaving his fanciful thoughts in the shop along with his rag, he slid past one of his new tour trucks—bright blue and specially outfitted with open-air seating for nine—opened the office door and went inside.

“Afternoon.” He moved behind the crude particleboard reception counter. “Welcome to Mountain View Tours.”

“Hi.” The woman unzipped her black leather jacket, her smile wide as she took in the front office. “I’m looking for Kaleb Palmer.”

A dozen scenarios sprang to his mind as to why a beautiful motorcycle-driving woman would be looking for him. A relative of one of the men who’d been with him that fateful day in the Afghan desert, perhaps?

“I’m Kaleb. What can I do for you?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it without saying a word, her expression seemingly perplexed. Her hazel eyes fell to the concrete floor, before bouncing back to his. “Sorry. I guess I expected someone older.” Pink tinged her cheeks as she held out her hand. “I’m Grace McAllen.”

Her firm grip wasn’t the only thing that surprised him. Granted, he’d shared only one phone call and a couple of emails with Grace, but with her husky voice, military background and no-nonsense approach to business, he never imagined his new office manager would be so...pretty.

Scratching his head, he glanced at the calendar on the wall. “I must be mixed up on my days. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

“No. You’re correct.” She took a step back. “I just pulled into town and thought I’d drop by before checking in at the campground.”

“You’re staying at the campground?” Not something he would have expected from a single woman.

“Why not? I have a camper.”

He peered out the window, noting the low-profile trailer hitched to the back of her motorcycle.

“Don’t let appearances fool you.” She’d obviously caught his stare. “It’s a pop-up. Much bigger than it looks.”

That was good, because it still looked pretty small to him. However, he was six-three and liked his space.

“Cool.” He turned his attention back to Grace. “So would you like to start working tomorrow, then? Or would you prefer a day to familiarize yourself with the town?”

“Tomorrow is fine.”

“Good.” He rounded the counter to join her in the open space that was flanked by a vintage Coke machine and a particleboard brochure rack that matched the desk. “The faster we can get you up to speed, the better I’ll feel. And I figure the best way to start is with a couple of informal tours. I’ll give you a firsthand look at what we do and, in turn, better equip you to assist customers.”

“Sounds reasonable.” She shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and looked him in the eye. “I haven’t been to Ouray before, but if the drive up here is any indication, I can hardly wait.”

“I like your enthusiasm.” Kaleb had prayed long and hard that God would lead him to the right employees. Those who would share his love for this area and pass that zeal on to customers. “Most of the passes are still closed, but we can make a run up to Yankee Boy Basin. Which also happens to be one of the area’s most popular destinations.”

“What time should I be here?”

“Eight o’clock too early?”

“Not at all.”

Nodding, he leaned an elbow against the counter and tried not to stare at his newest employee. The way her silky brown hair spilled over her shoulders and the hint of a dimple in her right cheek.

He cleared his throat. “The front office here is where you’ll spend most of your time. That’s my office there.” He motioned to the small room at his left.

Her brow puckered as she scrutinized the area. “It has promise. A few simple cosmetic changes could brighten this space considerably.”

“Cosmetic changes?” What was she talking about? “The place is perfectly fine. A bit rustic, but in some circles, the rustic look is all the rage. I put my money where it really mattered. Upgrading the rental Jeeps and tour trucks.”

His former boss, Mountain View Tours’ previous owner, had been a notorious cheapskate, barely putting any money into his vehicles and, in turn, ruining the company’s once-glowing reputation. A reputation Kaleb was determined to restore.

Grace smiled politely. “Okay, then—”

“I got a lollipop!” The announcement came from Kaleb’s four-year-old nephew, Jack, as he barreled through the front door in cowboy boots and shorts, lips bright red from the candy he proudly held in his hand.

“Is that for me?” He scooped the child into his arms before sticky fingers could make contact with anything or anyone.

“No.” Jack squirmed and giggled, his brown eyes alight with amusement. “You hafta get a haircut to get one.”

“Jackson Kaleb, you are supposed to wait for Mommy.” Sami, Kaleb’s sister, looked fit to be tied as she strode into the office, fists clenched at her sides, her blond ponytail escaping its confines. “What if there had been a car coming?”

Kaleb glared at his nephew. “Jack...? Did you run across the street by yourself?”

“But I wanted to show you.” The sincerity of Jack’s words settled into Kaleb’s heart.

After falling prey to an IED in Afghanistan, Kaleb had returned to Ouray just before Jack was born. He soon discovered that holding Jack and spending time with him was the best medicine Kaleb could have asked for, taking his focus off of his inabilities and forging a special bond. A bond Kaleb hoped to one day share with a child of his own.

He softened his expression. “Safety first, soldier. You know that.” He regarded his new employee. “Jack, this is Grace. She’s going to be working here this summer, so you’ll probably see a lot of her.”

“Hi, Gwace.” Jack popped his lollipop into his mouth.

“How’s it going, Jack?” Smiling, she waved and Kaleb saw a spark in her eyes that had him suspecting she liked kids. Yet as quick as it came to life, it was gone.

Suddenly shy, Jack laid his head against Kaleb’s shoulder.

“Hi, Grace.” His sister extended her hand. “I’m Sami, Kaleb’s sister, part-time helper around here and mom to this little mischief maker.” She poked a thumb toward Jack.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Grace just got into town.” Kaleb smoothed a hand across his nephew’s back, the sweet smell of strawberry enveloping them both.

“Welcome to Ouray.” Sami gave Grace her full attention. “This your first time to visit us?”

“Yes.” Grace’s eyes drifted to the window. “And it’s even prettier than I imagined.”

“That it is.” Sami let go a contented sigh, before addressing Grace again. “Where are you from?”

“All over.” Grace faced his sister. “I grew up a military brat then joined the navy right out of high school.”

“Wow!” Sami’s dark brown eyes flashed with excitement. For all of her contentment, Kaleb knew his sister longed to travel. “I bet you’ve been to some exotic places.”

“I suppose. But few as beautiful as what I saw driving in today.” Grace hesitated, a puzzled expression on her face. “I’m sorry—have I said that already?” She looked from Sami to Kaleb. “It really is true, though.” The conviction in Grace’s voice was hard to miss. And precisely what Kaleb needed to set Mountain View Tours on the road to becoming a thriving business once again.

Anticipation flooded through him as he set Jack on the floor. “Grace, you haven’t even seen the tip of the iceberg. Just wait till you find out what’s in store for you.”

* * *

Grace, you are such a goober.

Gravel crunched beneath her tires as she backed her bike into the tree-canopied campsite that butted against the jagged sandstone surface of the mountainside.

When she’d talked with Kaleb Palmer on the telephone, his deep voice had her envisioning him to be somewhere upwards of fifty years old, with a moderate paunch around his midsection, wearing an old trucker hat and coveralls. Instead, he was only a few years older than her twenty-eight years, well built, with biceps bigger than her thighs. Not to mention those gray-green eyes that had her gushing like a schoolgirl.

She cringed, recalling how many times she’d used the word beautiful or some variation thereof. Even if she had meant it, she probably came across as phony.

Much like her ex-husband. It’s all right, Grace. We’ve got each other, and that’s all we need. Over the two years that Grace had tried unsuccessfully to conceive, Aaron had uttered those words month after stinking month. She’d even started to believe him. Until he left her for his pregnant girlfriend.

Annoyed that she’d allowed her mind to wander down that depressing path, she killed the engine, dropped the kickstand and got off her motorcycle. After removing her helmet, she surveyed the place that would be her home for the next few months.

The showers weren’t too far away, so that was a bonus. Across the way, a large motor home was parked at an angle. Several sites down from her, there was a silver Airstream trailer and a few more RVs dotted the campground. Aside from that, the place was empty. Something she was certain would change as they moved into summer.

Focusing on her own campsite, she noted the picnic table and a small fire pit that doubled as a grill. A water spigot and electrical box. Lifting her gaze, she studied the mountains, many still topped with snow. Definitely something she wasn’t used to seeing from the deck of an aircraft carrier. Or from the screened-in porch at her home in Jacksonville, Florida.

She shook away the unwanted memories, dropped her helmet and jacket atop the picnic table then tugged the phone from her back pocket and sent a text to her sister, letting her know she’d arrived safely. Thirty seconds later, the phone rang and Lucy’s name appeared on the screen.

Grace should have known her little sister wouldn’t be satisfied with a text.

“Hey, Luce.”

“I told you to call me when you got there. Not text.”

“Just trying to save time.” Grace sat down at the table. “I haven’t even set up camp yet.”

“In that case, I’ll cut you some slack. So... What do you think of Ouray?” Excitement laced Lucy’s tone.

Her sister and mother had spent the summer after Dad’s death up here and Lucy had fallen in love with the town. If only things had been that simple with their mother.

“In a word? Gorgeous. The pictures you showed me didn’t even begin to do it justice.”

“See? Didn’t I tell you?”

“You did.” Something she was certain Lucy would never let her forget.

“I think the change of scenery will do wonders for you, Grace. At the end of the summer, you’ll feel like a new woman, refreshed and ready to conquer the world.”

Conquering the world was exactly what Grace planned to do. Unfortunately, the ship the cruise line had assigned her to was in dry dock, undergoing renovations, and she wouldn’t be setting sail as an excursions manager until late September. So, at Lucy’s relentless urging, Grace reluctantly accepted a summer job in Ouray.

Using her finger, she traced the heart someone had carved into the wooden tabletop. “I hope so.” After her divorce last year, she finished out her enlistment then discharged from the navy, eager to flee Jacksonville and start a new life. A life lived on her terms, not those of a God who’d turned His back on her.

“Have you been to see Mama yet?”

Grace’s whole being sagged. That was the one aspect of this summer she was divided on. She knew she needed to reconnect with her mother, at least on some level, before heading out to sea. But seeing her mother meant she would also have to see him.

“No. Like I said, I have to set up camp.”

“I still don’t understand why you won’t stay with Mama and Roger.”

“You know why.”

“Come on, Grace. They’ve been married for three years. Don’t you think it’s time you gave Roger a chance?”

“Not particularly.” That would be like turning her back on her father.

“He’s a good guy, Grace. He makes Mama happy.”

“Perhaps.” But how her mother could move on only a year after Daddy’s death was something Grace would never understand. “Hey, look, I need to get things going here, so I’ll talk to you later, Luce.”

Grace ended the call, eager to be done with any and all talk of Roger, grabbed work gloves from her saddlebag and unhitched her trailer from her bike. With a firm grip on the tongue of the trailer, she maneuvered it back and to the right, a position that would afford her a nice view, as well as some privacy.

Forty-five minutes later, both her trailer and a separate canopy she’d use as a lounge/kitchen area were ready to go. Sure it was small, but compared to her cramped quarters on the aircraft carrier, it was the Taj Mahal.

She giggled then, remembering that was exactly what her father used to call it. When he was alive, he would take a monthlong road trip on his motorcycle every summer. Sometimes he’d go to bike rallies or visit her if she wasn’t at sea. Wherever he went, though, this camper was his home away from home.

A tear spilled onto her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. If only he could be here now. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so alone. So vacant. He’d wrap her in one of his famous bear hugs and help her make sense of her life.

I miss you, Daddy.

She ducked under the canopy and collapsed in her favorite lawn chair, suddenly exhausted. The sun had barely risen when she pulled away from her sister’s house in Flagstaff this morning. Lifting the lid on the cooler beside her, she snagged a Diet Dr Pepper and was just about to kick off her riding boots when she noticed the back tire on her motorcycle was flat.

“Are you kidding me?” She groaned, setting the unopened can on the cooler, and went to investigate. Once she removed the saddlebags, it didn’t take her long to find the nail lodged into the tread. Thankfully, it would be an easy repair.

After pulling her hair into a quick ponytail, she opened the first saddlebag and dug through it, searching for a plug kit. Coming up empty-handed, she moved on to the next one. “Where are you?” She always carried at least two plug kits.

“Aha!” She pulled out the orange box and opened its lid.

Her heart dropped. Everything was there. The tools, the rubber cement... But no plugs.

She looked at her watch. Five thirty. What time did stores close around here anyway? She’d spotted a hardware store on her way in. Hopefully, they’d not only be open, but have what she needed, as well.

She tucked her saddlebags inside the tent, then briskly walked the six blocks to the hardware store.

“I’m sorry, but we’re temporarily out of both the plugs and plug kits.” The clerk’s apologetic smile did little to comfort her. “But you could check with one of the Jeep tour places. They might be able to help you.”

Seriously? A Jeep place?

Okay, so they had a lot of tires to worry about, but she was only familiar with one Jeep place and the idea of going back there again today didn’t settle well. What if Kaleb thought she was one of those women who was merely looking for an excuse to return?

You could check with your mother.

Definitely not. Besides, she was planning to walk to work tomorrow.

What if there’s an emergency, and you need your bike?

She blew out a frustrated breath. Logic left so much to be desired.

Trekking across the street, she swallowed her pride and walked into the somewhat dingy office of Mountain View Tours. A gallon or two of paint would do wonders for this place.

Kaleb stood behind the desk, his back to her. “Be right with you.” The overhead fluorescent bulbs highlighted a bit of blond in his short sandy-brown hair.

She waited in silence, her anxiety building.

“Grace?” His smile was easy and he appeared almost happy to see her. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a flat on my bike. By any chance do you sell tire plugs?”

“No, we do not.”