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CHAPTER 1

When Alice Liddell chose her legal name at the age of eighteen, she meant it as a symbol of her new life. Like Alice in Wonderland, she'd visited strange lands, met distrustful people, and barely survived a brush with death. She'd been afforded more than one second chance, something she was grateful for every day.

Now, she straightened her spine and stepped through the walkway, toward a 747 bound for Texas and the next part of her journey. Where life would take her next, she didn't know. Hopefully, her destination, a veterans' retreat, would help guide her in the right direction.

The attendant escorted her to a large, leather seat at the front of the plane.

Her first-class accommodations were definitely an upgrade from the military cargo planes and assault helicopters she'd grown accustomed to traveling in. Physically spent after the long walk through the airport, Alice breathed a sigh of relief. For the next several hours, she could sit and relax.

As she limped over to her window seat, she winced at the sudden muscle cramp in her right leg. She eased herself down and used her strong fingers to knead out the ache, just as her physical therapist instructed. After a minute, the cramp subsided, and she sat upright, begging her body to cooperate for the remainder of the flight and resist any more bursts of pain.

People walked by and down the aisle, rolling small suitcases and carrying bags, travel pillows, and children. One woman wearing a purple pantsuit clutched a designer bag in her hands while whispering words of comfort to the small dog tucked inside. Outside the window, baggage carts hurried around the tarmac.

She hoped both her suitcases would arrive in Austin. Spending two weeks wearing the same outfit would stink, literally.

"Excuse me." A deep voice sounded from the aisle. "Would you mind if we switched seats? I prefer to sit on the inside, away from the aisle."

She turned her attention from the action outside to the man speaking, and her gaze moved up the length of his athletic body, finally settling on a striking pair of brown eyes. After several seconds of flipping through her recently unreliable memory bank, she placed a name with the face. He had the look of a young Keanu Reeves, circa Point Break. Despite the fact she recognized him, she wouldn't give Micah Palmer the satisfaction.

Why did he want the interior seat? Maybe to hide from obsessive sports fans, which she was, but neither of him nor his team. "Sure." Why not? As long as she remained in first-class, the location of her seat didn't matter. She stood and shuffled out into the aisle.

He was tall, beating her by a few inches, and his hands were large. She imagined he had no trouble keeping a tight grip on a football. Micah was the star quarterback of the Timber Lake Warriors, or more accurately, the former star. After last year, his standing with the team and its fans dropped.

"Thanks." He smiled and stepped back to make room. He moved his gaze from her face to her lower half. "Is your leg okay?"

Forcing her face to remain relaxed, she blocked out the pain radiating from the entire right side of her body. "I'm fine. It's just stiff."

Once Micah was in her old spot, Alice settled herself into the aisle seat and the ache in her leg subsided. At least in her new location, she could stretch her leg into the aisle every so often.

Curious, she subtly peeked at her new neighbor. He was more handsome close-up than on TV. Most people would be thrilled to sit beside a professional football star, but not her. Or, at least, not when the star was Micah Palmer. First, she was a huge fan of the Arizona Scorpions, the Warrior's biggest rival. Second, Micah Palmer missed most of last season due to a torn ACL. Third and most important, she'd read reports about his excessive partying and alleged drug use.

The flow of boarding passengers trickled to a final few people.

She reclined her head on the chair's soft headrest and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of the attendant preparing for take-off mixed with passengers' chit chat. A phone chimed beside her, and she lifted her eyelids to peer over.

Micah cleared his throat. "Hey ... I'm on the plane and need to shut off my phone. What do you need?" After a brief pause, he rubbed his face. "I told you I'll be out of reach for the next two weeks." Another pause. "No, I can't have any guests while I'm there ... I got to go ... bye."

His groan of obvious frustration made her smile. Alice heard enough through the phone's speaker to concur the caller had been a female admirer. Poor guy. All he wanted was two weeks of peace. His phone chimed again, and Alice almost rolled her eyes.

"Cassidy, I'm so glad you called. I wanted to let you know where I'm staying." He straightened in his chair. "Oh, okay." He paused. "That's fine. I should get off my phone anyway, so I'll talk to you soon. Maybe tonight after I get settled in." Micah picked at some lint on his khaki shorts. "Sure, I forgot you're leaving with Ray. Have a good trip ... bye."

Another female caller, but she'd received the gold-star treatment. Alice turned her head to gaze upon the seemingly most popular man in the world.

He clicked off his phone. "Sorry about that." He grinned and shrugged. "You know how it is ... people need to reach you every second of the day."

"No ... I don't know how it is." She returned the smile then mentally slapped the grin off her face. Don't want him thinking she was another flirty, star-struck girl. From what she'd read in news reports, his ego didn't need any more stroking. "I'm lucky if I get a call once a month." Her circle of friends was small and tight. Most of her Army Cultural Support Team sisters were either deployed or busy with their civilian jobs. Her only family was her cousin — a newlywed. Kate had other things on her mind.

"Consider yourself lucky. I'm unplugging these next two weeks. Get off the grid so to speak." Micah slipped his phone into his carry-on bag then showed her his empty palms. "If you see me pull out my phone during the flight, feel free to slap me."

Alice laughed at the invitation. During previous football seasons, she would have loved to do just that. Especially during the game when Micah threw a touchdown pass with eight seconds left for the win, knocking her beloved Scorpions out of the playoffs. "You'll be safe with me. My fighting days are over."

The plane bumped with sudden movement, and then glided away from the gate.

Alice jolted with an increasing tempo in her pulse, either the result of the stress of flying or the nearness of Micah Palmer. So what if he was cute? Good looks weren't necessarily a reflection of a good soul.

She'd brought along a book about helping women in third-world countries become business owners. She opened it in an attempt to read through a couple chapters.

After about fifteen minutes, she gave up, unable to concentrate on the printed words on the page. She had a bad case of the jitters and couldn't calm her over-analytical mind. Flying normally didn't make her nervous. She'd jumped out of planes with nothing but a parachute strapped to her back. Maybe she'd feel better after a nap.

Alice closed her eyes and visualized what might await her when she got off the plane in Austin. She had no idea what to expect. Her friend, former Special Ops soldier Heath Carter, helped start the retreat, and she attended at his invitation. She'd gotten to know Heath when she'd served alongside him in Afghanistan. He was a good man and soldier — actually, the best.

She'd never made a secret of her injuries as a result of an IED and how she still suffered. Heath traveled to visit while she was at Walter Reed and witnessed firsthand the wounds marking her body. He hadn't needed a PhD to understand the damage done to her mind.

Two of her soldier brothers lost their lives to the same IED. Yet, she was still breathing, with a few scars to show as souvenirs. The majority of the fire in her soul had been extinguished, though she safeguarded the small spark that remained.

After two weeks at the retreat, she hoped to discover the answer to the question keeping her wide awake at night — why had she lived?

* * *

Micah reached across the form of the sleeping woman sitting beside him to accept the glass of ice water with lemon from the attendant. Not exactly what his body craved, but he'd come too far to start over again. Sixty-three days sober. Sixty-three days since he flushed the last of his pills down the toilet.

With this trip, he'd complete the final part of his recovery, like throwing the football into the end zone to win the game. Two more weeks until he'd start serious workouts. His knee injury had fully healed, but the media still questioned his professional abilities, along with his personal integrity. The football stadium was where he belonged. Micah would do anything necessary to earn his way back into its fold.

Working his way back to the top would be a struggle, and he wouldn't want success any other way. Challenges fanned the fire of his inner drive and forged him into a champion before. Why not again?

To focus his active mind on something other than worrying about football, he glanced at his seat partner. Should have asked her name before she fell asleep. He watched as her thick eyelashes fluttered over the dark, sunken skin under her eyes. If he had to guess, he'd say she was in her late twenties. Her delicate features and pretty face appeared as a facade, like a jewel-encrusted scabbard.

She hadn't recognized him, which normally would make him happy. But he was left strangely disappointed by her indifference. Maybe when she woke, he'd drop a few hints and let his celebrity crack the ice. Making small talk with a beautiful woman always helped pass the time.

Unfortunately, she stayed asleep until their plane began its descent into Austin, and then stirred.

The hum of the wheels being lowered filled the plane, and his ears began popping. Micah returned the sports magazine he'd been reading to his duffle-bag then adjusted his baseball cap. "I'm impressed you can sleep on an airplane." He glanced over with a grin. "I can never get comfortable enough."

She stretched her arms overhead and yawned. "I've slept in less comfortable places than a first-class airline seat. If I'm tired enough and have the opportunity, I can sleep anywhere."

"Since I can't snooze during flights, I study the people around me." He exhaled in relief at the bump of the plane touching down. "I use the exercise to clear my mind. I'll pick someone and guess their story."

"Okay ... sounds interesting. What's your take on that guy?" She pointed toward the man sitting across the aisle.

Leaning in, he lowered his voice. "His hair is too dark for his age, which means he likely dyes it to cover the gray. The style of his jeans and shirt are too young. He's also jittery. My bet is he's traveling to meet a younger girlfriend."

"I'd buy that." She nodded. "Do you think he's married?" "No ring, but he could have removed it. I'll save some hope for humanity and say he's single and not traveling to Texas to cheat on his spouse."

She leaned her head a little closer. "Let's definitely go with single."

Micah's breath caught as her long, brunette ponytail brushed over the skin of his arm. "Now, the lady sitting next to him is on a business trip. She's spent the entire flight reviewing spreadsheets. My guess is she has a big presentation that will either make or break her career." He laughed at himself. Why was he admitting his weird mental game to a stranger? She probably thought he was a creep.

"What did you come up with about me?" She widened her eyes and arched her eyebrows.

"Well, let's see." Micah pretended like he hadn't been studying her while she slept. Again, he wanted to avoid coming off as super creepy, especially if at some point, she recognized him. "I don't see a ring, so I assume you're single. Since you slept through most of the flight, I guess you're sleep-deprived and have small kids."

She scrunched her brows.

But she hadn't interrupted to contradict him, so he continued. "You're traveling for a fitness event. You're tall and built like a volleyball player. You might be a coach."

"Very interesting analysis." She set a lime-colored bag on her lap.

Micah lifted his duffle from underneath the forward seat. The plane's door would open soon, and they'd disembark — each going in a different direction. "So, how did I do? I usually don't get a chance to ask."

She frowned. "Well, I'm not married, so you're right about that, but I don't have children. Earlier in my life, I was very physically active, but that's no longer the case."

"Your leg." Micah thought back to how she'd limped when exiting her seat to switch. "Sport's injury?" If so, he could relate.

The flight crew made the final announcement, and the plane door opened. Other passengers stepped into the aisle to remove their baggage from the overhead bin. After a minute, the line moved toward the front of the plane.

His seat partner stood. A pained grimace emerged on her face.

"When I was injured, the job I was engaged in wasn't a game. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Palmer. Good luck with next year's season."

Micah slumped back in his window seat, watching her turn to face the front of the plane. After a short delay, she moved away with the crowd of people exiting.

So, she had known who he was, but he hadn't gotten her name. Which was okay. He didn't have the time or energy to chase women, not if he wanted to regain his good reputation. And not if he strived to once again become the top quarterback in the National Football League.

Micah strode off the plane and toward the baggage claim. The cool air inside the airport made him shiver. While he waited for his suitcases to appear, he glanced up at the guitar sculptures displayed above the conveyor belt, which made for an interesting distraction. Only a dozen people asked for an autograph, either on the plane or at the airport. Not like a few years ago, when he couldn't take more than four steps without being mobbed. Nowadays, the only way he made the news was for bad behavior off the field. Come July, the course of his career would change when he'd step onto the practice field for training camp, healthier than ever.

Once he retrieved his suitcase, he searched for the guy who'd drive him to the retreat where he'd volunteered to help. Micah scanned the crowd and noticed the dark-haired woman who'd sat beside him on the plane. She let out a whoop before hugging a lucky guy. Boyfriend maybe?

Wait — the man she embraced looked like the photograph of the guy from the veterans' retreat he was supposed to meet. Micah stepped closer to get a better look. If she knew the guy from the veterans' retreat, then. ... The story he'd invented about her on the plane had been wrong. Yes, she was physically fit but not because she was an athlete. The woman with hazel eyes and a long brown ponytail was a soldier.

"I'm so happy to see your scruffy face." Alice hugged Heath Carter one final time before grabbing the handle of her suitcase. Her tall, dark haired friend served as a real and solid reminder of her time with the Army CST had been real, not a contrived memory.

Heath took hold of the other suitcase. "Happy to see you, too, Lipstick."

His thick beard couldn't hide his amusement from using her old Army nickname.

"Let's not go there, Carter." She bumped him with her hip, causing a slight burn in her muscles. "At least not yet."

"Before we can take off, I need to find the volunteer I'm driving to the retreat. He should have come in on your flight." He glanced around the large space filled with fast-moving people.

"What does he look like?" Alice glanced toward the baggage claim and saw Micah Palmer heading in her direction. The rate of her heart increased. She couldn't shake the guy.

"That's him." Heath stepped toward Micah and held out a hand. "Hey, man, welcome to Texas."

The men shared a handshake — the polite method the male species used to size up one another. Glancing between the two muscular men, she could almost smell the testosterone. "You're volunteering at the Liberty Veterans' Retreat?" Alice's eyebrows rose. Of all the sport celebrities who donated their time to charities, she'd bet money Micah Palmer was not at the top of the list.

"My teammate, Reagan Harrison, suggested I spend a few weeks volunteering before heading back to training for next season."

Micah flashed a smile as white and bright as a new pair of sneakers. She half-expected him to remove a halo out of his back pocket and set it over his head. In his world, filled with millionaire athletes, good works were done for show. Who had time to help others when he was busy negotiating his next contract?

"Good of you to come down and join us." Heath nodded and walked toward the sliding glass doors. "Our director, Dr. Thompson, has lots of work planned."

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Excerpted from "Know You By Heart"
by .
Copyright © 2019 Laurie Hoffman.
Excerpted by permission of The Wild Rose Press, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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