AFTER GETTING his prosthesis reattached, Mitch got into the truck and drove back toward the house. He stopped a half mile or so from the buildings that made up the heart of the ranch. He wasn’t ready to face Fidela again. Or anyone.

When he’d awakened on the naval hospital ship and realized what had happened, all he could think was that it was time to go home. That after nearly nine years, he was ready to go back where he belonged. But now that he was here he realized it wasn’t home anymore. Everything had changed…including him.

He turned off the engine and leaned back in the seat. He hurt all over, but the worst throbbing came from the part of his leg that didn’t exist anymore. He’d been told that would happen and given pages of instructions on how to deal with the pain. Everything from massaging his stump to some stupid-assed hand-rubbing energy woo-woo crap he hadn’t bothered reading. He was strong-he would will the pain away. Eventually. Until then he would deal.

The sun had moved in the sky and long shadows crept along the land. Time was passing, although not fast enough to suit him. He wanted it to be a year from now, or five, so he wouldn’t have to be adjusting to everything. He wanted that behind him.

Without him wanting it to, his body clenched as if remembering what it felt like to be inside Skye. She’d taken him with a passion he’d never been able to completely forget. She hadn’t cared about his missing leg or the years they’d been apart. She’d wanted what he had always been able to give her-what they’d given each other. Then he’d hurt her because she’d deserved it.