“I thought I could be important enough for him to change what he does.” She shoved the bowl away and leaned against the stool back. “Why did I think that?”

He stared at her with serious eyes. “I think the more important question is, why would you want to?”

She studied his expression. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he is who he is. I happen to know a lot about him. Probably a lot more than you. The second you were under his care, I had his file.”

She should have guessed that. Her father’s world worked that way. “What do you mean, he is who he is?”

“I mean, he is the man you were attracted to. The man who rescued you not once but twice. The man who put himself between you and an enemy bent on hurting you, at risk of his own life and limb. The man who came the second you called from the dinner, bringing with him the full force of his team, without question or hesitation. He is who you were attracted to. Not someone else. Not someone who would leave that to be with you.”

She pondered that. She had fallen in love with Captain Rick Norton, leader of a Green Beret team, who did hard, amazing things, made tough decisions, and took care of the people on his team like they belonged in his family.

That did not detract from the truth, though. “But I know what it’s like. I was there. I experienced it with him. How can I possibly live with that? Every time he left, I’d know what he was doing and the danger he was in.”

“Sweet pea, you have to understand that he’s going to be in that danger doing those things whether you’re with him or not. So do you want to be the one here, sharing his downtime with him, loving him through the hard times? Do you want to be by his side, supporting and praying for him, serving God with him?” He reached over and covered her hand with his. “Or do you not want to be that person for him? You cannot think about the what-ifs like that. Statistically, he’s as likely to die from a car accident. Would you never want him to drive again if you knew what an accident is like?”

Needing to move, Cynthia pushed off the stool and paced to the other side of the counter. “It’s hardly the same thing.”