Home to Stay (The Long Road Home #2) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,4

Ramstein and it hit John that he’d spent little time in the presence of children. Their conversation moved to their employment chances now that they were out of the service.

“I’ve been looking for different security firms, but Blessing gave me a lead to chase down.”

John mulled over what he said as he silently ate, then curiosity got the best of him. “Why security firm?”

“Military people are in demand for private security. They’re looking for disciplined people, and to tell the truth, everything I know about investigations can be taught to a person willing to learn. The biggest thing is attention to detail. Finding significant inconsistencies, for one. Like the same stories from multiple points of view.”

John halted his eating, his mind turning over what Cam was saying. “Explain that.”

Cam began explaining some of the basics of understanding how people see the same situation through their own eyes, recalling their own memories. Fascinated, John asked, “Where did you learn this?”

“I went to the FBI Academy and they had a guest lecturer who spoke on questioning witnesses and how to talk to people we suspect aligned. It was interesting.”

“Sounds like it.” By then, the two men had finished their breakfast, both sighing in contentment. “Thanks for breakfast and the talk.”

John stood, and Cam lifted his cup of coffee. “Safe travels. If you need anything, man, throw me a text or an email.” He handed John a card with his contact information.

With a chin lift and a wave, John headed toward his gate. He still had no idea what kind of work he might be able to find but figured he had some time. After all, he had no idea what home would be when he got there. But just like with the kids' letters, he owed Gramps a great deal and figured it was time he repaid that kindness.

2

The SUV rumbled along the coastal highway. It was only a rental from the Portland Airport, but the last thing John had wanted when he finally arrived in Maine was an ordinary midsize sedan. The pickup truck he’d driven between missions had been his pride and joy, but he’d sold it when he left North Carolina. Now, with one hand on the bottom of the steering wheel and the other wrist resting on top, he appreciated the handling and decided this was the next vehicle he’d purchase as soon as he was settled.

Settled. Whatever the hell that means. Settling implied having a place to go home to every evening. Settling implied having a steady job. Settling implied he’d know what he was going to do the next day instead of waiting to see what mission came down the pike.

Following the curves of the road, he snorted. Truth was he hadn’t been settled in years, even though he’d considered his team to be his job, his family, and his home. Now, with all that gone, he had no idea what settled meant anymore.

Rounding another curve, the ocean came into view and all thoughts of his vehicle or settling left his mind. Sucking in a quick breath as an ache pierced the left side of his chest, he was grateful to see a place to pull off to the side of the road. Parking, he shut down the engine and climbed out, walking around the front. His gaze stayed pinned to the coastal view, so different from many other places that peered out over the Atlantic Ocean. Leaning his back against the side of the SUV, he stared, willing his body to drag in enough oxygen to keep him upright. Clean, crisp air filled his lungs, and the scent of ocean spray mixed with spruce and pine met his senses.

He’d traveled the world, telling himself that home was wherever he lay his head. Staring out at the waves crashing upon the huge rocks of the coast, the blue sky in stark contrast to the deep green forests, he sucked in another deep breath, a sense of peace easing the tension that had filled his neck and shoulders. Home was still a nebulous concept, but at least this was familiar.

Lifting his chin, he allowed the bright sun’s rays to warm his face against the spring chill. North Carolina was already warm and muggy this time of year, but Maine was a cool, refreshing balm. Having been stuck in the Atlanta airport for almost thirty hours, it was nice to be outdoors again. Although his time there had not been unbearable. As he cast his mind back to