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“That’s a nice leg you got there.”

She glanced down, nodding again, feeling like a child. “I remember what you told me,” she blurted. “That day in the clinic, you… you told me I would survive this. And I did. And I’ve been telling myself that over and over again, all through my life. You will survive this. It’s become my mantra. I wanted to thank you for that. You were incredibly kind that day.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered that traumatic time. Hands rested on her shoulders, and she knew it was Connor behind her, but she only had eyes for the man in front of her. He had saved her. “I looked for you, afterwards. But no one would tell me who had saved us. I had no way of getting in touch and telling you what you meant to me.”

The big man reached out and took her hands in his. “We have to keep it that way, to keep our team safe. But I hear you now, and I appreciate that. I was only doing my job. You were doing the same thing on that base. Caring for those soldiers. I just got the chance to turn the tables on you a little.” He grinned and the scar that looped down to his mouth pulled up a little. It had faded over the years, but still had the same shape she remembered.

Olivia smiled, squeezing his hands. “And I know you talked to Baylee, too. You were a lot more patient with us than you had to be.”

He shook his head. “Nah. It was my pleasure to take care of you. What’s your first name?”

“Olivia,” she said quickly. “And this is Connor. He’s the fire chief for Lockhart. He saved me three days ago in a crash.”

Truck looked down at the woman beside him. “This is my wife, Mary.”

Mary grinned at them and shook her head. “You had a crash on the anniversary of the Rebellion? Do you have any luck other than bad luck?”

Olivia laughed. “I don’t know. My friend Baylee would tell me bad luck just follows me.”

Mary waved a hand. “Rubbish.” She glanced at Connor’s hands on her shoulders. “Besides, your luck seems to be changing.”

Olivia glanced up at Connor for a second, then back to Mary. “You might be right.”

The crowd continued to stream around them, but no one seemed in a hurry to move. “Are you still with Ghost? He was the first one I talked to after you guys retook the base.”

Truck smiled again and nodded slightly. “We’re still on the same team,” he told her.

“Tell him thank you, as well. We really didn’t think we’d make it out of there alive.”

“I will. He’ll be happy to know your story. FOB Nightshade was a hellhole, and we all remember it. It will be nice to tell the guys I saw you, and how well you’re doing.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor said, leaning in. “Did you say Nightshade?”

“Yes, why?” Olivia asked, but by the devastation in his face, she had a feeling she knew.

His brother had died in the Rebellion. He must have died on Nightshade.

Fuck.

* * *

Connor didn’t know what to do. Olivia’s face had closed down completely, and there was a distant look in her eyes as she watched Truck and Mary merge into the crowd. They’d come to watch the rodeo.

He understood her worry. It had been a shock to hear the name of the base where Henry had died. And what were the chances that he had been on the same base she’d been, at the same time the Rebellion had occurred? It was funny how the world connected people.

Had she known Henry? He doubted it. Henry had said there were more than a hundred people on the base, just days before the attack. Their parents had talked to him, and it had been the last time anyone had.

The kid had been something. He’d have grown into an incredible man if he’d had the chance, but the war had taken him away.

Olivia glanced around at him. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, but he heard her, even with the crowds swirling around them. “I didn’t know.”

He gave her a sad smile. “I didn’t either.”

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to her lips, determined to maintain the connection they’d built. She had turned guarded, though, and he needed to bring her back. “I don’t blame you for being on the same base as him and surviving. I would never do that.”

Olivia cringed, though, and he knew he’d guessed her guilt correctly. Cupping her face in his hands, he bent down to look her in the eyes. “Look at me, Olivia. I love you. You had no part in Henry’s death.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “There were so many good soldiers killed,” she breathed, tears rolling down her cheeks. “We tried to save them all, but we couldn’t.”