Return of a Hero – Excerpt
Return of a Hero….
Marine Captain Morgan Trayhern couldn’t risk staying in the United States, yet he didn’t dare leave. Fragile, gutsy Laura Bennett had been injured saving his worthless skin, and a Trayhern never dodged duty. Despite the danger, he had to protect his sweet guardian angel.
To his surprise, Laura’s bull dog stubbornness matched his own, and her love implored him to unearth what he thought he’d forever buried on that blood hill in Vietnam seven years ago. But once he faced his entire past, could he count on a future?
Reprint from Book 3: Return of a Hero
Love and Glory Series
Release date: May 28, 2019
© 2019 Blue Turtle Publishing
Available in ebook/paperback/audio
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It was raining. Or is the sky crying? Morgan Trayhern wondered as he climbed out of the black limousine. The dawn sky above Washington, DC, was a funereal gray, mirroring his feelings. Water ran down the planes of his tense face as he walked up a red brick path toward an old Georgian manor tucked away behind a number of sycamore and elm trees.
Fatigue lapped at Morgan as he hunched more deeply into his trench coat. Yesterday he’d received a directive from the commandant of the French Foreign Legion to report to headquarters. Orders had come from American officials, asking him to return at once to Washington for an unspecified reason. The commandant assured him that although the Marine
Corps officials had urgently requested his presence, once the meeting was over, he could return to France and resume his duties as an officer in the Legion. Further, this unexpected trip was top secret. His commanding officer couldn’t even name the man who had issued the orders that had brought him stateside after a seven-year absence. The whole situation made Morgan apprehensive, and a nine-hour flight from France, coupled with time changes, had stripped him, leaving him raw and uneasy.
Morgan saw that the door to the manor was open. A Marine Corps general in a dark-green uniform filled the entranceway, peering out at him through the pall. Wrestling with his surprise and the sudden pounding of his heart, Morgan clenched one of his fists. So, General Kip Young, his commanding officer back in 1970, wanted to see him. The bastard.
As Morgan approached the door, the bulldog-jawed general with thinning gray hair beckoned him to enter. “Captain Morgan Trayhern?”
Flooded with unexpected anger, Morgan nodded. “You know it is.” Maybe his black mustache had changed his appearance more than he’d realized.
Shutting the door, the general stepped back, allowing the maid to take Morgan’s trench coat. “General Jack Armstrong is dying. As you know, he was in charge of your battalion.”
Glaring at Young, Morgan straightened his dark pinstriped jacket. “Is he dying of guilt, sir?”
“Now you look here,” Young snarled, coming within inches of him. “You keep a civil tongue in your head. Jack Armstrong saved your life seven years ago.”
A thin, cutting smile slashed across Morgan’s mouth. “And I’m supposed to be grateful for his turning me into a convenient scapegoat and purported traitor to my country so that he and all his cronies could escape the blame for Hill 164?” Morgan defiantly held Young’s steely stare.
“Even though you’re in the French Foreign Legion, I expect military courtesy from you, Captain.” Young’s square face turned scarlet. “I’m the one who sent the request to have you fly here. Jack Armstrong is my best friend, and he’s dying. There are some things he wants to get off his chest and they involve you.”
Taking a quick look around the impressive home whose walls were filled with war mementos from Armstrong’s thirty-year military career, Morgan shrugged. “I’m following orders from Commandant Gerard. I didn’t want to come, General. If I’d realized you were behind this visit—or that Armstrong wanted to talk to me—I’d have refused. As soon as this charade’s over, I’m catching a plane back to France.” His voice grew deep. “And you can keep your filthy little secret.”
“Excuse me,” a maid called to the general. “The doctor says you must hurry.”
Young made a chopping motion toward the walnut-paneled hallway. “Fourth door on the left. Jack is lucid, but Dr. Bonner says he won’t last until sundown today. Whatever your personal feelings over this, Captain, I hope you can respect the fact that he’s dying.”
