Embattled Hearts 1 by J.M. Madden

work or just ordered drive-thru.
    The man’s eyes flickered to the food, then Duncan, then back to the heater. He wasn’t in any hurry to move away from the warmth.
    “What’s your name, soldier?”
    “Willingham. Aiden Willingham.”
    “Nice to meet you, Aiden. Do you have someplace I can take you so you can get out of the cold tonight? Family, or a friend’s house?”
    Aiden shook his head, still wrapped around the vent. He did take a minute to grab one of the bars, rip it open and shove it in his mouth. He chewed slowly, obviously savoring the granola. Duncan wished he’d brought something else for him.
    “I know of a shelter downtown. Can I take you there?”
    Anger flashed in the man’s eyes before he looked away. “No, thank you.”
    Duncan frowned at him. “Is there any reason why not? You’d have a warm place to sleep and food in your belly.”
    “And be disgusted with myself. I don’t go to those places. I do fine out here on my own.”
    Duncan couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows at the statement. “Why don’t you go to those places? They’re there for a reason.”
    Aiden shook his head. “I just don’t. There are people that need it worse than me around here.”
    “Probably not very many. Dude, you’re going to die of exposure if you don’t get out of the weather.”
    Aiden looked out the windshield and seemed to realize how nasty it actually was. Or maybe he realized how cold it was going to be when he left the heater.
    Duncan let him stew on it a few minutes. “So, can I take you to the shelter? It’s only going to get colder tonight.”
    With a weary glance outside, Aiden nodded his head. “Let me get my stuff, though.”
    Cold swirled into the cab as he stepped out to gather his belongings. He snapped the snow off his blanket and bundled it into his arms. He dug a pack from beneath the dumpster he’d been leaning against and swung it over his shoulder, then came back to the truck.
    As Duncan shifted into gear, he felt the tension increase on the other side of the cab. “You okay?”
    Nodding, Aiden turned to look out the window.
    Catholic Samaritan House was usually the only one with empty beds when it got this cold, so Duncan turned the truck in that direction. But the closer he got, the more tense Aiden became. Duncan pulled over and parked between two cars.
    “What’s wrong?”
    Aiden shook his head. “I don’t know if I can be in there. It’s going to be crowded and people are going to want to talk to me.”
    “Well, it probably will be because of the weather, but I think if you let them know you need to be alone, they’ll respect that.”
    But the anxiety didn’t leave his face. By the time he pulled up in front of the building, Aiden looked ready to leap out of the truck.
    Duncan shifted into park and leaned back in the seat, deliberately trying to look relaxed. “Let’s just sit here a bit, okay?”
    The younger man nodded and seemed relieved not to be pushed.
    “Is this how you ended up on the streets? Anxiety? PTSD?”
    Aiden shrugged, looking out the window. The snow continued to come down steadily, highlighted orange from the vapor lights on the street. But the heater continued to pump out hot air.
    “Answer me one question. Were you in Iraq or Afghanistan?”
    “Iraq.”
    As much as twenty percent of returning veterans from Iraq had post-traumatic stress, some thought even more. Aiden’s anxiety was par for the course. Duncan wondered why he hadn’t gotten therapy at the VA.
    “Well, how about I go in and talk to the manager here and see what we can do for you? Maybe they have a secluded area where you can stay away from the crowds or something.”
    Aiden glanced at him and nodded.
    “Can I trust you if I leave the truck running?”
    “Yes, sir!”
    Duncan fastened his coat and slipped out of the truck, being sure to plant his feet and cane before he moved. It was slow going across the snowy walk. He glanced back at one point and Aiden was watching him.