Owen thrashed around, the sound of gunfire pinging like a Texas hailstorm on a tin roof. He inhaled a gulp of fetid air and screamed into a cloud of thick smoke. "Get the kid!"

He bolted upright gasping for breath, then grabbed the hem of his sweat-drenched T-shirt and mopped his face. It took him a few seconds to realize he was in his hospital room. Same damn nightmare every time. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get past that point. How long would it be before he could remember what happened when he got captured?

Even with his teammates telling him the story, he still had no recollection. It was as if that one moment in time froze in his memory. And, why it mattered, he didn't know. It was over. In the past. But still it haunted him, and he feared it would always unless he pieced it all together.

The bouts of depression and anger racked him physically and emotionally, but seeing a shrink wasn't something he was interested in no matter what the doctors said. He'd pull himself out of this funk as soon as the hospital released him. And, according to Dante, that would be any day.

Owen balanced his laptop on his thighs. He didn't know why he continued to torture himself by checking the Hollywood gossip sites, but he couldn't stop. It was his only connection to Silbie.

She'd be back in the states soon, and although Dante had done as Owen asked and kept the news of his release from her, it was only a matter of time until she found out. Especially, once he attended the medal ceremony. The Army would milk his rescue for all it was worth even though they weren't responsible.

He didn't intend to see her. No need. With her new-found fame, he'd only be a problem. Between his therapy, insomnia, and emotional issues, she was better off without him.

Hell, as soon as he blew this joint, and fulfilled his obligation of accepting the Army's commendation, he planned to lay low. He didn't want to associate with people. They all wanted something from him. His family and doctors wanted him to see a counselor. His teammates wanted him to party. The Army wanted him to be a posterboy.

He wanted to be left alone.

He clicked on favorites and pulled up the first gossip site. Silbie was in Switzerland, but according to the new post, filming finished in another week. Then, she'd return to California where they'd film the last scenes at Paramount Studios.

The news release went on to say once shooting completed, she and her co-star—Owen stopped short. The guy was more than that. He was her lover. All the photos of them playing in the snow, dancing in a bar, shopping together, sickened him.

He slammed the laptop closed. Fury exploded in his chest. Hands trembling, he shoved the computer aside, then grabbed the closest thing, a plastic water pitcher, and hurled it across the room grazing the shoulder of the nurse who entered.

"Whoa! Sergeant Filgard. You all right?" She threw up her hands and stepped back.

He hated she'd witnessed his juvenile tantrum, but lately, they were commonplace. "Yeah. Sorry."

She smiled. "My shift is ending soon, but I wanted to change the dressing on your leg before I left." She made her way to the end of his bed and picked up his chart. "I see you haven't had any pain meds all day. Are you uncomfortable? I can bring something."

"No. I don't need anything. I'm just a horse's ass. I figure my reputation in that category is well documented."

She popped on her latex gloves, then snipped the gauze and unwound it. "I've seen worse. After what you've been through, you're entitled."

"Feeling sorry for me?"

She dipped a cotton ball in betadine and swabbed the area. "No. Just saying a readjustment period is expected. Your leg looks good. The incision is healing nicely. Day after tomorrow, we'll remove sutures, and then you'll be ready to head home just in time for Christmas."

"Yeah. Ho, ho, ho." If Owen could wave a magic wand, he'd cancel the holiday and skip all the Yuletide spirit. At least he didn't have to worry about crossing paths with Silbie and her new man. They were on a tight schedule, and she wouldn't be home until New Year's Day. By then, he'd be back in Dallas licking his wounds.

"Don't be such a Scrooge. You have much to celebrate. You're alive and safe. Keep in mind; your family suffered, too."

"You're a good person, Janine. How do you stay so positive dealing with assholes like me?"

She secured the new bandage and locked her hazel eyes on him. "I know first-hand how bad a man can be, and you're a long way from that."

"That sounds personal."

She put away her supplies and drew a deep breath. "I've always been a sucker for a man in uniform. When I was twenty, I married a soldier. He liked to slap me around. It took a while to escape the marriage, but I did. Guess that's why I work here. You military men satisfy my weakness without any involvement. But, enough about me."

Owen studied her. She had to be in her late forties. A messy bun of dark brown hair sat on top of her head like a crown. Until today, he'd not paid much attention to her or any of the nurses for that matter. He figured the less he knew about his caretakers, the better. He wasn't looking for friends or anyone full of advice.

She stripped the gloves from her hands and tossed them in the trash. "I notice you've only had two female visitors since you've been here. Both relatives. I figured a handsome guy like you would have a girl." She raised her eyebrows as if she just came to a conclusion. "Or a boy?"

He shook his head. He didn't want to go there, but he didn't want to be rude either. Especially, since he'd almost used her as target practice. He offered her his best fake smile. "You coming on to me, Janine?"

She barked out a laugh. "Sweetie, I have cake pans older than you. But, if I were younger and available, of all the guys on this floor, you'd be at the top of my list. So I assume you're single by choice or was one of the guys who visited." She shook her head. "Sorry. None of my business. Forget I said anything. That was out of line."

Owen chuckled. "I had someone, but while I was gone, she found someone else."

Janine patted his hand. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. She's better off. The guy she's with now is perfect for her. Same age. Same profession. Same interests. I knew from the beginning, the odds were stacked against us. Some things aren't meant to be."

He could use logic all day long because it made perfect sense. Just one problem.

Love wasn't logical.

After days of trying to get in touch with Dante with no response, Silbie had enough of the silent treatment. Even though she'd spoken to her mother several times, when Silbie asked about Owen, Mom said little and changed the subject. But enough was enough. She scrolled to Mom's number and pressed dial. Memorizing lines should be good for something. So when she answered, Silbie launched into her practiced tirade.

"Listen to me, Mom. Something is going on with Owen, and I want to know what it is. If you don't tell me, then tomorrow, as soon as I land in California, I'm walking off the movie and coming to Parkers Prairie to find out for myself. There will be lawsuits, and they'll label me a spoiled diva, but I don't care. All of you have lied to me long enough, and I'm sick of it!"

She should be ashamed for speaking to her mother that way, but she wasn't. Her family still treated her like a child, and it was time they faced facts. She wasn't some wilting flower they needed to protect.

"I'm sorry. You're right. If it makes any difference, I voted to tell you from the beginning, but Owen asked us not to."

She straightened in her seat. "What are you talking about Owen asked you not to. You've talked to him? Is he in Parkers Prairie? And, why would he say that? It makes no sense."

"Look, honey, you're thousands of miles away and unable to come home, so knowing would have made things harder for you. That's the only reason I agreed to it."

Rage exploded through every artery, shattering her from the inside out. "That's bullshit, Mom! You know how worried I've been. How could knowing he was safe hurt me?" She burst into tears. "I can't believe you, of all people, kept this from me. First his capture, and now this. I think it's clear, if I want to know what's going on, I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

Silbie hung up and slammed the phone against her leg over and over, screaming as if attacked.

Logan rushed into the room. "What the hell? Are you okay?" He moved to her and wrapped her in his arms.

She sobbed against his chest. "Owen is home, and no one told me. Not even Mom."

"Hey, it's okay. I'm sure she has a good reason." He stroked Silbie's back.

"No, she doesn't, and don't you dare take her side."

He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Silbie onto his lap. "I'm not. I'll always side with you. Tell me what you want me to do."

She heaved a deep breath and cradled her face in the crook of his neck. "I don't know. Mom said Owen didn't want me to know. Why would he do that?"

"No clue. Again, not taking her side, but maybe you should call her back and get more information."

He'd barely suggested it when the phone rang. She stared at the screen. "It's her. I'm not going to answer it."

The door opened, and Maia breezed in carrying shopping bags in both hands. At the sight of Silbie and Logan embraced, she stopped short and dropped the sacks, rearing her arm back as if to strike."What's going on here?" She zeroed in on Logan. "Why is Silbie crying?"

He opened his mouth, then clamped it shut when Silbie jumped to her feet and spoke. "I'll tell you what. My mother. I can't trust her anymore. None of my family. Or anyone in Parkers Prairie."

"Oookay." She gazed at Logan, then shrugged. "Care to share?"

"Owen's home. For a while now, I think, and nobody told her."

Silbie paced waving her hands in the air. "Oh, they didn't just not tell me, they went out of their way to keep it from me. Well, I'm done depending on them."

Maia cut her eyes from Silbie to Logan. "Oookay. What exactly does that mean?"

"It means, I'll hire a private investigator to find out everything I want to know. I'm not going back to Parkers Prairie."

Maia widened her eyes and stretched her lips thin. "You're canceling the New Year's Day trip?" She tracked her attention first to Logan, then back to Silbie, then Logan again.

Silbie wiped her nose on her sleeve, then stood straight as a fence post.

"No, I'm never going back home."

Girrrrrl is pissed. Who can blame her though?

TEASER: "Then later, we can all get naked in the hot tub."

Welp. We know who's suggestion THAT is.