A Change of Heart (14 page)

“Hmm.” She studied him, her eyes roaming over his face, frowning when they tarried a fraction of a second on his mouth. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Her pupils dilated when she lifted her eyes to his. Hadn’t he read in one of his sister’s magazines that our pupils do that when we’re attracted to someone? Yeah, this was a good sign. He grinned. “You’re entirely welcome.”

“Oh, crap.”

Damn. What’d I do now?
He raised his brow in question.

“We just passed the turnoff to my mom’s.”

“No big deal. I’ll just get off at the next exit and turn around.” He wouldn’t mind if they kept on driving all night if it meant she’d continue to open up to him.

“Yeah, see, that’s the problem. Because of summer road construction, the next exit with a turnaround is about ten miles west
of here.” She fished her cell phone out of her purse. “Take exit 170 and hang a left. That’ll take you to an eastbound ramp. I’ll call my mom to let her know we might be a few minutes late.”

“I think we’ll be fine.” He nodded toward the clock on his dashboard. “We were a little early anyway.”

She set her phone on top of the box of dessert bars and relaxed into the leather seat. Also a good sign.

“Do you want to hear something really sick?” she asked, biting her lip. “I get it.”

He blinked, confused. “Get what?”

“I get why rape happens in the military.”

“It shouldn’t happen.”

“I know, but when you consider the type of person attracted to the armed forces, and the type of soldiers the armed forces actively seek—aggressive with an overload of testosterone—”

His eyes widened. “Are you all of those things?”

“No. People enlist for all kinds of reasons. Some just want the benefits and access to training and education they couldn’t otherwise afford. Some have a highly developed sense of honor and patriotism, a certain percentage are unemployed and have nothing else to do, but…” She propped her elbow on the window frame and rested her chin on her fist. “Ultimately, the army wants men who are driven to fight…men who want to shoot at an enemy.”

She turned to face him. “Like any other slice of society, the good, the bad and everything in between are represented. There are some enlisted personnel who are pretty close to criminal to begin with, especially the bullies. Put those men who already teeter on the edge of criminality into a dangerous situation where they’re under fire, stressed out and on an adrenaline rush twenty-four–seven, and something’s going to snap.”

“That doesn’t excuse what happened to you.” His jaw clenched. Right now, he was the one who wanted to strike out at an enemy, and the man who had hurt her topped his most wanted list.

“I know that.” She blew out a shaky breath. “It hasn’t been that long that women have been a part of active combat duty alongside the guys. The army is a behemoth, slow to turn when it comes to updating their collective consciousness, or…or accommodating change, no matter how necessary that change might be. Rape should
not
happen—ever. No matter what side you’re on. But historically, it’s always been a part of war, just not…it should never be…”

It didn’t help. This
understanding
she described didn’t help the anger roiling in his gut on her behalf. “No one should be assaulted by someone who is supposed to be on the same side.”

“No one should ever be sexually assaulted, no matter what, but yeah. Exactly. It really does a number on your head.” She pointed ahead. “There’s our exit.”

CHAPTER SIX

T
HIS BARING OF THE SOUL
left Cory with a giddy sense of relief, and she didn’t want it to end. What was it about Ted Lovejoy that made it so easy for her to open up? He made her want to put her unsorted feelings into some semblance of order, and then put them to words. She glanced at him as he focused on getting them back on track toward her mom’s. Her eyes fixed on his hands where they rested on the steering wheel. He had nice hands, masculine and strong, confident—if hands could be described as confident. Maybe not. Masterful. Yeah, that was better.

Ted had the hands of a workingman, yet he was so much more. Not only did he help his family out on the farm, he also created high quality, handcrafted furniture and ran a successful business. The man was too capable and too good for words, and that was sexy.

He cleared his throat, and she lifted her eyes to find he’d caught her staring. All the heat pooling in her middle shot up to her face. She turned away.

“Do you mind if I ask a question, Cory?”

“No, I don’t mind. Go ahead.”

“I’ve been doing some reading about rape in the military,
and from what I’ve gathered, a majority go unreported, or if they are reported, nothing comes of it. What was it about your case that drew so much attention?”

“After I reported the assault, my superiors brushed me off no matter how high up the hierarchy I went. I pushed the issue and threatened to take my case to the media if they didn’t do something. So they did…something. They decided I have a personality disorder.” She studied the dashboard of his truck, avoiding the pity she feared finding in his expression. “Reporting my CO’s sexual assault against
me
resulted in my less-than-honorable discharge.” The familiar band of tension tightened around her chest. “That really ticked me off.” She risked a glance and noticed his jaw twitching before she turned away again.

“It makes me angry just hearing you talk about it.”

“Thank you.” No pity. Just anger on her behalf, and that warmed her heart. “There’s a lot of shame and blame involved with rape, and it’s a threatening situation all the way around. I’m sure that’s why most victims just disappear into the woodwork. I couldn’t let that happen. It’s not right.” All the anger and helpless rage she kept mostly under control surged, and her grip on the lemon bars went postal again.

Memories of the past year flooded her, the frustration and isolation, the overwhelming sense of betrayal she’d suffered. She pushed them all back into the far recesses of her mind. She didn’t want to turn into a quaking mess in front of Ted. “There are a number of organizations trying to address the problem in various ways. I have a friend who is very involved with the Service Women’s Action Network, and I contacted her.”

She forced herself to ease her grip on the box in her lap. “SWAN is working to draft legislation and get laws passed that will make things safer for women in the armed forces.” She
looked at him, and this time her gaze was steady. “They put me in touch with the Yale Law School Veterans Legal Services Clinic. They’re working with SWAN to draft the new laws, and they took my case pro bono. In exchange, I agreed to testify in front of congressmen and senators about what happened to me in order to help the cause. SWAN did several press releases, and the next thing I knew, I was in the middle of a media feeding frenzy.”

He turned to face her, a look of comprehension covering his features. “I can’t even imagine how difficult that must’ve been for you. Especially after everything else you’d already gone through.” He shifted, turning back to the road. “You’re a brave woman, Cory. I hope you know that.”

“I don’t know about bravery. Mostly I was motivated by rage, and I had no idea what I was getting into.” More memories rushed back—the lack of privacy, cameras flashing in her face during the trial, seeing her personal horror headlined on a daily basis. She’d hated having her life laid bare to the world. As far as she was concerned, the media circus was another kind of rape, another violent intrusion into her personal life. “Brenda says I’m the poster child for rape in the military. I only did what I did because I hoped it might prevent someone else’s life from being destroyed.”

“No doubt you are the poster child, and I’m certain you’ve helped a lot of women come forward with their own stories.”

“Maybe.” A shudder racked her. “I don’t
ever
want my name to appear in a newspaper, magazine or on the Internet again. The whole experience…” The sudden sting of tears took her by surprise. “It was horrible,” she whispered, wishing she could bear having Ted’s arms around her.

She pointed ahead, struggling to get a grip on her emotions. “There’s our exit. We’d better not miss it a second time. Turn right at the stop sign, and the road will take you straight to the
trailer park. Just look for the Pine Glen Mobile Homes sign on the left.”

He made it onto the off ramp and pulled to a halt at the stop sign. “I’m sorry you went through all of that. You’re getting regular paychecks now, and plenty of therapists work on a sliding scale. Have you given any more thought to—”

“There’s a principle involved here.”
Dammit.
Didn’t he get it? “I served my country for eight years.” She glared at him. “Eight years with a perfect record. I intended to make the military my career for the next twenty. I shouldn’t have to
pay on a sliding scale
. I want back what was stolen from me.”

Her heart pounded so hard her ears rang.
Unfit to serve
. That was the thorn that festered in her like a boil, and only one thing could make it go away. “When my record is straightened out, the first thing I plan to do is sign up for therapy. I didn’t ask to be raped, and I sure didn’t deserve to be treated the way I was by the institution I pledged my loyalty and service to for all those years.”

A barrage of hot, angry tears flooded her eyes, and she swallowed hard as embarrassment filled the vacuum left by the receding flash of anger. “I…I’m sorry. You’re not to blame for any of this, and—”

“Don’t apologize. It doesn’t bother me when you let all that anger out. Use me as a sounding board whenever you feel the need.” He pulled onto the frontage road. “So, it’s just you and your mom, huh?”

He didn’t leap out of the car and run from her tirade, and once again his even-tempered, calm demeanor soothed her. What did he really think? Did he see her for the box of nuts she truly was? She hoped not. Forcing her tone out of the shrill and crazy range and back into normal, or as normal as she could pretend to be, she answered, “Yeah. Pretty much.”

She rooted around in her purse for the small package of tissues to wipe the smeared mascara from under her eyes. Her mother already worried enough. Cory didn’t want to show up for dinner looking like she’d been crying. Even if she had. She drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly and brought her nerves back under control. “There it is. Home.”

The dilapidated sign with the half-dead pine trees planted on either side came into view. Truly cringeworthy. “Head left. We’re the fourth one down, the double-wide with the small wooden deck built onto the front.” They passed the rusty playground and the graffiti-covered wooden fence separating the park from the trucking company next door. “I win.”

Ted shook his head. “It’s old and a little run-down, yeah, but other than the graffiti on the fence, which is obviously nothing more than adolescent self-expression, I’m not seeing a ton of booze bottles littering the ground, or rusted-out cars and junk lying around in anyone’s yard. The park is neat, just worn.” He pulled into the gravel parking spot next to her mother’s car. “It looks to me like it’s a pretty decent community.”

Cory thought about her mom and the neighbors she’d grown up with, especially the Holts. True enough. They were a community of hardworking folks who didn’t quite make middle class. Sure, there were a few oddballs who were social dropouts and rebels in their own minds, but they all looked out for one another and had been there for one another during tough times. “It’s true. I remember trick-or-treating here on Halloween. Our neighbors went out of their way to make it special for the kids who lived here. Lots of the moms made homemade treats for us, popcorn balls, caramel apples, and fudge. It is a tight community. I think that’s why my mom stays. Her friends and support system are here.”

“Exactly. Worn but not beaten.” Ted grinned before climbing
out of the truck. He came around to her side, opening the door for her. “I think we have a tie on our hands.”

“Maybe,” she conceded, just as the loud rumble of a semi downshifting on the interstate filled the air. “Don’t forget the noise.”

“Don’t forget the smell.”

“Don’t forget the trailer trash stigma.” Her chin came up.

He shot her another grin. “Hog farmer here.”

The front door of the trailer opened, and her mother’s warm smile beamed their way. “You two come on in now. Supper’s ready.”

Cory hurried up the steps of the deck and gave her mom a quick hug before turning to introduce Ted. “This is Ted Lovejoy. Ted, this is my mom, Claire Marcel.”

“Call me Claire,” her mom said as she stepped back so they could enter. “Welcome.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Claire.” Ted inhaled audibly. “Mmm, it smells delicious in here.”

It did smell good, and the mouthwatering scents weren’t coming from the huge slow cooker permanently positioned on the kitchen counter. Cory looked at the stove, where a few pots and pans with lids simmered on low. A covered basket sat in the middle of their dinette table, which had been set with place mats and wineglasses. Wow. Her mother had gone all out. “What did you make?”