The Peaceful Warrior Read online

  Not a bad job title, especially for a kid as great as Pasha, but today, after his best friend had picked the prettiest girl in California to be their companion on this trip, she really was his best friend. If Cannon wasn’t working, he’d be spending the rest of this trip going after Daisy like a heat-seeking missile. Daisy Mae Close. He hadn’t been able to get her pretty face out of his head since he’d escorted Pasha and Miss Dee back to their car for her tutoring.

  She had such a pure, girl-next-door look to her and it seemed so genuine. Even her blonde hair looked natural, not dyed. Living in Southern California, it seemed that everywhere he went, the women were more plastic than human. Unlike Miss Dee, who was as cultured as they came, and dignified enough that it wouldn’t surprise Cannon if she married British royalty, Daisy seemed so real and fun and down-to-earth. She was so easy to talk to and banter with, and that was just in the few moments he’d had with her so far. And to top it all off, she was so effortlessly … kind.

  When the guy next to her in coach started coughing up a lung, she offered what she could to help instead of trying to hide from Mr. Communicable. And the way she engaged so thoroughly with a five-year-old stranger when she surely had better things to do on the train.

  That wasn’t all, though. Daisy had something about her, a goodness that he found irresistible. She was everything he’d been trying to attract in his life ever since he left the SEALs. In Daisy’s presence, the darkness of the world and of his past life had no power or influence on him, as if the ground she walked on was sacred ground and everyone in her presence benefitted from some sort of halo effect.

  And to think she was just across the hallway. Cannon had been resisting the urge to tap on the door to see if she wanted to chat, or to point out some landmarks as they passed them. Anything to be near her. But for now his focus had to be on his job, his duty to protect Pasha.

  After the Connect Four matches, Miss Dee and Pasha had made a detour to the café below the lounge car so Pasha could get her accustomed snack. By the time they’d made it to their rooms, Daisy had already arrived in the normally empty sleeper and had the curtains pulled and door closed. At least Daisy was on the scenic side of the train—if she hadn’t been, he would have switched rooms with her. The views of the Pacific Ocean as they traveled up the coast were unparalleled.

  Pasha and Miss Dee always stayed in the same car on these trips—a bottom-floor bedroom suite at the front of the car. Unlike most of the rooms, which had an aisle going past them, there was only one way in and one way out of their suite. Cannon always had the same room, as well, the roomette next door. It was just the right size for one person, but it was designed for two people, as long as they liked each other a lot. It was basically two bench seats facing each other, and not a whole lot else. The room across the walkway from Cannon was usually empty, an extra buffer and a room Cannon could set up in if he wanted a slightly different vantage point of the hall approaching Pasha’s suite.

  From Cannon’s lookout spot on his seat, he could see up the hallway, making it impossible for anyone to gain access to Pasha’s room without him seeing them. For the 36-hours of the trip, Cannon would stay awake, constantly vigilant for any threat to his little charge.

  Rasmus was an international celebrity, entrepreneur, and pioneer of green energy, and had received various threats against himself and his family. Sutton and Cannon had discussed the specific threats at length, and while they seemed like the kind of drivel any big celebrity would receive, Rasmus was nervous enough that Big Oil, or Big Electric, or Big Any-Other-Standard-Energy would try to stop his public momentum, that he was taking no risks with his only daughter’s safety. His wealth alone made Pasha’s kidnapping a possibility.

  When Rasmus Gold hired him through Sutton Smith, he insisted on finding one man, and one man only, to keep his daughter safe on the frequent trips. He loved the idea of a former SEAL. If he can survive Hell Week, Rasmus had said, he can stay alert for 36 hours on a train. However, he was concerned that someone skilled enough and ruthless enough to stop any sort of threat with extreme force wouldn’t be a good influence around his daughter. He had almost given up when he’d come across Sutton Smith’s unique organization.

  Rasmus had personally met all of Sutton’s SEALs and chosen Cannon for two reasons: his kid-friendly personality and the dozen or so weapons and self-defense gadgets he carried hidden on his person.

  Sutton and Cannon had had some fun at the other former SEALs’ expense when Sutton had told them all of Rasmus Gold’s impression of the other guys. Corbin had lost his temper in the interview when Rasmus baited him by saying snipers were sissies and cowards. Rasmus didn’t like the way Blayze had tried to do a Sherlock-thing, reading him like some deductive psychoanalyst. Running in elite circles, Rasmus knew River Duncan’s family and said he didn’t trust a rich kid to be ruthless enough if things went south. But the best was Zane. Rasmus had passed him up because he looked too much like Thor.

  Not to be outdone, the guys had started calling Cannon Barney the Babysitter.

  Cannon could understand Rasmus Gold’s concern. Cannon wasn’t even Pasha’s father, but he loved that little girl. With all the bad things in the world, he needed something like this bright little girl to help him stay on the sunny side of life. If things ever did go wrong, he’d give his life protecting her without a second thought. Though the more likely case was him sending anyone who threatened Pasha to meet his Maker.

  Someday he’d have someone special like that in his own life. A wife, a daughter. Something was missing in his life for sure.

  Cannon’s eyes went to the door of the room across from his. A woman like Daisy would change everything. The peace and the light he craved so badly seemed to be embodied in her. Daisy Mae. He couldn’t wait to get to know her better, but that was so hard under the circumstances. For now all he could do was try to stay focused.

  If he wasn’t so hyper-vigilant, he might think Daisy had closed up the room and gone back to one of the viewing cars, but watching as intently as he was, he could tell by a slight shadow under the door, and faint sounds of movement, that she was in there.

  “A long, long time ago…”

  Cannon sat up and looked around. Someone was singing.

  “… I can still remember … how the music used to make me smile.”

  It was Daisy! She wasn’t belting it out, just singing like there was a song in her that wanted to come out, so she sang. Cannon stood carefully, not wanting to draw any attention, and stepped into the aisle. “American Pie” was usually nostalgic and almost mournful, but from Daisy’s lips it was sweet and pure.

  Cannon was enthralled and realized he’d been drawn to it like a siren’s call at the expense of everything else around him. He shook his head and turned to watch down the hallway, but kept his ears peeled to the angel singing on the other side of the roomette door. Daisy’s was the sweetest voice he’d ever heard, and the suddenness and nearness of her pleasing tone made him feel like he’d come home after a long journey.

  Cannon loved his job and always appreciated it, but he’d never enjoyed it nearly as much as right in this very moment. If he could listen to her sing on every trip, he’d do the job for free.

  The overhead speaker went off, making Cannon jump. Gustav announced dinner for people with the six o’clock reservation.

  The singing stopped immediately. Cannon had never been so frustrated by any of the train employees. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief to wipe his eyes.

  Daisy’s door opened, and there she stood in a light dress with short flowy sleeves. It had a blue flower pattern on it that set off her eyes like bluebells. He wanted to call it a summer dress, but he wasn’t sure that was the actual name of it, but it was so Daisy. It didn’t matter how you described it, she was stunning.

  She startled when she saw him. “Oh, I didn’t know we were neighbors.”

  “There goes the neighborhood,” he said.

  Shoot! This wasn’
t one of his SEAL buddies who he could banter with. The Navy needed to start offering classes on how to talk to girls when guys left the Navy because after ten years of service, it was hard to break the tough-brother banter, even after being out for over a year.

  She smiled, apparently unsure how to respond.

  “You look nice,” he said.

  “Thanks,” said Daisy. In a playful tone she added, “I’d tell you that you look nice, but apparently it’s how you always look.”

  Oh good. If she was still bantering with him, he wasn’t doing too bad. He smiled back at her hoping it wasn’t too obvious he’d been so touched by her singing.

  “Should I wait?” asked Daisy.

  “Nah,” said Cannon quietly. “Pasha would prefer meeting you in the dining car.” Daisy had to know where it was because you had to go through it to get from the parlour car to the sleeper.

  “See you there,” said Daisy, giving him that perfect hometown smile. The center of her left cheek dimpled into a dot and Cannon had to concentrate to keep his smile from taking over his whole face.

  “See you there.”

  He watched her disappear around the corner of the stairwell, unable to ignore the feeling that he needed her in his life. He’d never fall for someone this quickly before, and didn’t know what to do with the electricity running through his veins.

  The door behind him opened, and Pasha stepped through wearing a sleeveless pink dress and a matching bow in her hair.

  “You look lovely this evening, Miss Pasha,” said Cannon.

  “Thank you,” said Pasha. “You look handsome, even though it’s the same as you always look.”

  He smiled at her response noting how similar it was to his other favorite girl on the train. “Shall we?” he asked. Cannon wanted to offer her an arm and escort her through the cars but the passageways were too narrow, not to mention it was logistically impossible to do proper security from such a posture.

  Their passage through the cars was a choreographed routine so Cannon could keep an eye on Pasha from behind and also clear each car before she went in. Pasha always stayed in the middle while the adults traded places.

  When they walked into the dining car, Daisy was standing there in the back of a line of five people. Gustav, the dining car attendant, seated the other four at a table in the center of the car.

  Daisy was watching him and Miss Dee, ready to follow their lead.

  “This is our table,” said Pasha, pointing at the table to their left. “But we hafta wait till Gustav sits us. That’s one of the manners of the dining car.”

  “Thanks,” said Daisy.

  Cannon could see her glance at all the empty tables between them and the rest of the diners, trying to figure out why they got special treatment.

  Once Gustav had seated the other four, he walked up to their group, smiling. “How is my little poet?” he asked Pasha.

  “I’m not a poet,” she replied. “I don’t write poems, I just learn them and say them.”

  “I hope you have one for me tonight,” he said. “After dessert?”

  “It would be my pleasure,” said Pasha.

  Gustav bowed, then motioned them to take seats in the table Pasha had already pointed out. Pasha and Daisy took the inside seats, with Cannon taking the seat next to Pasha that gave him his back to the wall and a clear view of the entire car. Not to mention a great view of Daisy every time his eyes went to the view outside of the window.

  Just as he had earlier, Cannon had to focus to keep his eyes on everything in the car and not focused on Daisy. However, he did notice every move she made as he noticed everything in the car. The difference was, when she smiled, he felt like the sun had risen in the dining car.

  Pasha wouldn’t mind if he flirted—she’d probably encourage it—but he had a duty to perform, and if Daisy became too much of a distraction, he would take steps to separate her from them.

  Steps to separate her from them? Wow, that sounded way more like a violent SEAL mission than he’d intended.

  Seeing Daisy and Miss Dee sitting side by side—Daisy’s natural beauty, easy smile, and inner brightness and Miss Dee’s poised demeanor, professional level makeup, and lustrous dark hair that perfectly matched her brown eyes—there was no doubt Cannon preferred Daisy’s style. He couldn’t really put a finger on it; it was just something positive and wholesome he felt around her.

  He saw her eyes grow momentarily wide when she noticed the prices on the menu.

  Whether Pasha had noticed or whether she was just being a good host, she said, “You can get whatever you want. Everything is included already. It’s covered.”

  They occasionally had guests dine with them on the train and Miss Dee had trained Pasha in putting their guests at ease. Most people already knew that about the meals, but some of them were new to the train, or had been in coach, like Daisy, and weren’t sure.

  As she had in the parlour car, Daisy did a quick eye-check with Cannon and he gave her another little nod to confirm.

  To Pasha, she said, “Well aren’t you the most gracious little hostess?”

  Cannon saw Pasha blush under the praise. She said, “We ride the train every week and I make a lot of friends.”

  Gustav arrived and took drink orders. The adults ordered water and the young lady ordered apple juice. Cannon would save the caffeine intake for later tonight.

  There were two servers who covered the dining car, but Gustav, who ran the dining car, always saw to Pasha and her group himself. He’d been background-checked by Rasmus Gold’s staff and received some basic training on what to look for in order to prevent any sort of poisoning attempt. No one but the cooks and Gustav handled the food for Miss Pasha and her escorts.

  “What’s good?” Daisy asked Pasha.

  “Well I like the macaroni and cheese. You’re allowed to order it, even though it’s on the kids menu.”

  Daisy looked as if she was considering it, but Cannon was certain she wouldn’t order the seven-dollar mac and cheese when there was salmon, steak, and Surf and Turf on the menu. Gustav brought their drinks and took their orders. As planned, Pasha got the mac and cheese. The ladies both went with the salmon and Cannon got the steak.

  Pasha showed Daisy how to lay out her silverware, then started her standard interview questions. Cannon had been through this interview process at least a dozen times. Pasha’s parents wanted her to have well-rounded social skills, and the little prodigy was already a better conversationalist at five-years old than Cannon was at twenty-nine.

  Cannon listened with interest, wanting to ask follow-up questions and get answers of his own, but he let his little spy do all the digging. Everything Daisy did affected him. Her laugh, the way she pushed her blonde hair behind her ear, and just her bright … countenance made him feel all energetic and optimistic, like everything was going to be all right forever.

  Am I in love or something? he wondered. Was that possible? They’d just barely met.

  “What do you do, Daisy? For a living?” asked Pasha

  “I’m a freelance book editor,” said Daisy. Pasha had stalled and it was obvious by the look on her face that didn’t ring a bell. “When people write books, they need someone to read it and make sure it’s a really good book and that there aren’t a lot of mistakes.”

  A book lover too? If he hadn’t been in love before, that might just push him over the edge. “Reading books for a living,” said Cannon, venturing boldly into the conversation. “Not too shabby.”

  Cannon wanted to find out what kind of books, and find out if he’d ever read any of them. But he was afraid if he started talking too much, it would too easily become a two-person conversation. It could also be a distraction to him from his job so he closed his mouth and his little best friend did the dirty work for him.

  “Almost as nice as riding a train for a living,” countered Daisy.

  Pasha covered her mouth with the back of her hand and in whisper they could all hear, said, “I think you just got burned
.”

  Cannon couldn’t argue with that and he chuckled along with Daisy. Miss Dee was close to laughing, and Cannon wondered if she would correct Pasha’s playful impertinence. She ended up letting it pass.

  Daisy added, “It’s not my job, but I volunteer at the Christmas House. That’s a place that helps kids who don’t have a home of their own.”

  Now Cannon knew he’d found his soul mate. He just had to figure out how to let Daisy know.

  Dinner and dessert went along the same track with Pasha tirelessly interviewing Daisy and finding out everything about this woman. Well, a small fraction of everything, since Cannon just wanted to know more and more. The food was delicious, as usual, and Daisy seemed to have no problem rolling with the formalities of the table. A year ago, Cannon had needed in-depth lessons on etiquette since he was expected to model the behavior Pasha’s parents wanted her to learn.

  After their dessert plates were cleared off, Gustav appeared. “Are you ready to recite your poem, Miss Pasha?”

  “Yes I am. It’s kinda a scary one, but also kinda fun.” She cleared her throat, then her eyes got all intense. “’Jabberwocky’, by Lewis Carroll. Twas brillig and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe.”

  Pasha knew the entire poem and performed it as if she’d been practicing for months. When she said, “... snicker snack,” with her cute little lisp, it was the cutest thing ever.

  When she finished, the four adults clapped and Daisy said, “Snicker-snack!” Pasha smiled and chair-curtsied a couple of times, and Gustav thanked her and left.

  Miss Dee said in her formal British accent, “I’m sure Daisy is exhausted from all of the questions.”

  Without being prompted, Pasha said, “Thank you for dining with us, Daisy.”

  “It was my pleasure,” said Daisy. “Now that we’re neighbors I’m sure we can play Connect Four tomorrow. Plus,” she said, winking at Cannon, but talking to Pasha, “I can give you some tips for dealing with loud neighbors on the train who throw crazy parties.”