by Nicole Helm
It warmed her heart just a little too much to see the big, stoic soldier make faces at a baby when no one was looking. He might not be the friendliest or chattiest of guys, but he was a hard worker. He never complained about what he had to do in the kitchen. He didn’t complain about her chattiness, though it had to annoy him.
And he made faces at kids.
Don’t you start getting all gooey over the guy. She couldn’t afford to. But she was a little afraid she was powerless to stop it.
Luckily, she could force herself to look away from him when Alex stood in front of the crowd with a glass. The crowd began to hush. “A toast to all of you. We all know we have a lot to be thankful for. Whether in the shape of your family here, or the one you’ve built at Revival. We appreciate your service, your sacrifice, and the courage it takes to find some healing. Cheers.”
She clinked glasses with her brother and sister-in-law and then turned to Eli. “On a job well done.”
His mouth curved ever so slightly, but she was counting it as smile number two. And ignoring the little flutter in her stomach that she could not ever let grow into something else.
Not ever.
*
Thanksgiving had been...uncomfortable. In that it hadn’t really been. In the days that followed, Eli could only marvel at how...good it had been. He’d enjoyed helping Vivian make the food. He’d enjoyed Alex’s toast, felt a certain kind of...pride in being part of this thing.
He’d never felt that before. Never let himself. And he wasn’t comfortable feeling it in retrospect. This was indeed his safe haven, but it wasn’t his. All he was doing was cracking some eggs and peeling some potatoes.
Vivian was doing all the work—putting all that heart and soul and care into the food. Something he didn’t have inside of himself to give.
Another uncomfortable subject he didn’t dare dwell on. All these weeks with her constant chatter had begun to make his solitary evenings feel lonely.
Unacceptable.
And yet, tonight he found himself picking up the phone to call his sister because he couldn’t take the way the silence was closing in on him.
“What’s wrong?” was Bailey’s greeting.
“Nothing is wrong. Why would something be wrong?”
“You called me.”
“Yeah. So?”
“You usually wait until I break and call you.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
He lapsed into a silence because maybe she was right. Maybe he didn’t reach out or know how usually. Maybe he didn’t like the feeling he was always intruding into her life, dropping the bomb of a reminder her brother was such a mess.
“Is everything okay?” Bailey asked carefully. The kind of careful she was always using with him. That reminded him he’d made her life harder.
Usually that reminder had him clamming up. Isolating himself from her and everything else, but something about the way Vivian was always going on about helping people and feeding them something more than rote military food reminded him that he owed Bailey something more than just not being around for her own safety.
“I just wanted to let you know that I missed you at Thanksgiving.”
Bailey was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, Eli realized the pause was because she was choked up. “I missed you too. I miss you.”
She wanted him to come home. To go back to that place he couldn’t stand. And how would he ever know he could really trust himself to be around her? How could he go to that place that made him feel choked? He shouldn’t have called.
So much for owing her. “I gotta go.”
“Okay.” She sighed. “Eli. I’m so proud of you.”
“Don’t—”
“No, I need you to hear that. I’m proud of you. You’re doing the hard work, and I know you’re doing it out of a misplaced sense of responsibility or honor to me, but I’m telling you. No matter what happens, I’m proud of you. So maybe whatever next bit you have to do you could do for yourself.”
Eli didn’t know what to say to that.
“You’re not just alive for me, bud. I love you with all that I am and I miss you so much, but I’ve got my own life. I don’t need you to fit into it. I need you to build your own.”
Build his own life? With what? He’d gone into the Navy to escape Oklahoma and his parents. He’d come here to escape what the SEALs had done to him. He didn’t know how to build. He only knew how to run away.
“I’ll let you go, Eli. Just...think about that, okay?”
How would he be able to think about anything else? “Okay.”
“Bye. I love you.”
“Love you too.” Eli hung up but sat there and stared at the phone not sure what to do with any of that, and wishing he hadn’t called. It was stirring things up, rearranging parts of himself. Which meant he’d end up having to talk to Monica about it and then she’d say something that shifted it even more.
He was tired of shifting.
Someone pounded on his door, and Eli didn’t know what to do with the relief that someone else was here. He opened the door, and immediately wondered why he’d been relieved. People were complicated. He frowned at Drake and Levi.
“We’re headed to Pioneer Spirit,” Drake said, and there was something edgy about his delivery. About the way he held himself. Like an explosive ready to blow. “You have to come with us. It’s Levi’s birthday. We won’t take no for an answer.”
“He just wants you to be the designated driver so he doesn’t have to be,” Levi said with the shake of his head. He stood slightly behind Drake, and there was something tense about him too.
Eli wanted no part of it. He had his own problems. “Look, I don’t think...”
“I’m going to go try Averly. You work on him,” Drake said, taking off for the far bunk where Nate would be.
Levi stood there and didn’t say anything until Drake was completely out of earshot. Then he leaned close, like he was imparting some great secret.
“One of the guys from his old unit died. Drunk driving accident. Some talk it was self inflicted, you know? Drake’s taking it hard. It’s not even my birthday for two more weeks, but he suddenly insisted.”
Eli’s stomach twisted painfully. “Sucks.”
“Yeah. Olsen can’t go because he promised his wife he’d stop drinking and he doesn’t trust himself not to get in the spirit of things at the bar. If Averly doesn’t agree—and his brother’s a cop around here so you gotta wonder—it’s just Drake getting drunk and me driving him home. That’s kinda sad, man. If you come, it’d help out a lot.”
Eli hesitated. He wanted nothing to do with this. It wasn’t just the buddy buddy thing, it was the emotional components. Dead former unit members and what not. But Drake came back, shaking his head. “Fucking, Averly. Just us three. We’ll make the best of it. Not taking no for an answer, Sterling. Not this time.” Drake was usually all smiles and jokes. Even if Eli wondered if it hid something else, it was disquieting to see it stripped away underneath Drake’s usual behavior.
“Yeah, I’ll... Okay.” He just couldn’t refuse Levi’s explanation, much as he wanted to.
There were three trucks the men could use for trips to town. Eli just had to sign out the keys and then he was driving Drake and Levi to Pioneer Spirit in the cold, dark December night.
The ride to the bar was quiet enough, but once they entered Pioneer Spirit and found a table the voices were like crashing waves. It was busy, cramped, dark. Eli hated it. How had he gotten roped into this?
“A SEAL, a Marine, and an Army Ranger walk into a bar,” Levi said.
“What’s the punchline to that?” Eli asked, shifting uncomfortably on the bar stool.
“Uncle Sam lied to them all,” Drake said, raising his glass in mock salute.
Levi shared a worried glance with Eli.
“So, Sterling, what’s your deal?” Levi asked. “All we know is you got blown up in a transport.”
“Yeah, wha
t else you need to know?”
“Wife and kids?”
“Nah. Just my sister. Doing this for her.” He had no idea why he admitted that out loud.
“Yeah, my family.” Drake shook his head. “Man, it was all worry, worry, worry. Got so I couldn’t piss without company. They found this place. I figured I’d give it a shot and prove how wrong they were.” Drake shrugged and his demeanor just seemed to be getting darker and sadder with every moment. “Not quite how it’s gone.”
Levi nudged Eli with his elbow. “What’s it like spending your days with Vivian Armstrong, angel of food and leggings?”
“It’s fine.”
“Jack hasn’t killed him yet, so he hasn’t put any moves on her.” Drake grinned, and that was almost normal.
“Moves,” Eli said with a snort. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Just playing grunt worker to her kitchen fairy.”
“She is a fairy in that kitchen,” Levi said appreciatively. “I actually started to put on weight.”
“Me too,” Eli muttered in unison with Drake.
They all looked at each other. A strange silence descended. Like they all realized here and now they’d been losing weight before Revival. In Eli’s case, he’d been wasting away a little. And as much as he didn’t want to admit he was any better... He was. Some. A lot since he’d been working in the kitchen.
With Viv.
He shook that thought away and went to flag down the waitress. Eli drank a coke and Drake and Levi did some shots and got progressively, jovially drunk. They talked about their military times. Funny stories from when they were kids. They even got Eli to tell a story or two.
Eli felt something he hadn’t in a long time. He didn’t want to think about it enough to define it. So, when it was time, he rounded the guys up and drove them home trying desperately not to analyze the fact his laugh felt so rusty.
And like a balm.
He parked the truck and Drake and Levi stumbled out. Eli would make sure they got back to their bunk before he returned the truck keys and signed the truck back in.
“There’s a goat on the roof,” Drake said as their bunk came into view.
“You’re drunk,” Levi said with a snort.
Eli stared up at the strange sight. He’d heard rumors about Becca Maguire’s pet goat getting on the roof at the main house. God knew it was Ron Swanson’s work on those cookies Vivian had left him a few weeks ago. But Eli had never believed the roof stories—figured it was some kind of joke for hazing purposes.
But there was a goat. On the roof of Drake and Levi’s group bunk. “He may be drunk, but there is indeed a goat on the roof.”
“A rite of passage,” Alex came out of the shadows. He looked up at the goat. “Never seen him up on this roof before.”
“A goat on the roof,” Duke said. “I told you.”
“You’ve been drinking,” Alex said. His tone was devoid of judgment, but pointing it out was judgment enough.
“I was the designated driver,” Eli returned evenly. “Not even a beer.”
“Good. Now which one of you is brave enough to pick up a chicken?”
“A chicken?” Drake asked, stumbling over his own feet and his own words. Levi was laughing hysterically.
Eli sighed. “I guess that leaves me.”
“Can you two get inside all right?”
“We’ll manage,” Levi said, grabbing Drake by the arm and dragging him into the bunk.
Eli was left with Alex Maguire. Eli couldn’t say the two of them had ever been alone together. The three main men of Revival Ranch could be a little intimidating. They purposefully kept their distance, he thought, because the recovery wasn’t about them. They were just examples that you could recover.
You can’t. Best to remember that.
“Good to see you with the guys,” Alex said after the silence stretched on too long.
“Just...this once type thing.”
“It shouldn’t be. They’re the people in this world who understand what you’re going through. It’s easy to convince yourself because your lives are different that they don’t, but they do. And they’ll always have your back.”
Eli didn’t know what to say, in part because the words twisted a painful knot in his gut. He’d never really worried about whether anyone understood him or not. That wasn’t the point. The point was saving Bailey. The point was...
“Come on. That damn chicken is the only thing that’s going to get my wife’s goat off the roof. Jesus, it’s been three years I still can’t believe that’s a sentence coming out of my mouth.”
Eli had no choice but to follow Alex to the barn to get a chicken, in order to get a goat off the roof.
Chapter Six
When Vivian got to the kitchen and it was dark—no sign of Eli at all, she felt the first little trickle of worry. In all these weeks, she’d never once beaten him to the kitchen.
Still, everyone deserved a sleep in now and again. Or maybe he’d been waylaid into something else, or had a therapy session. There were a million reasons he might be late, and he hardly owed her an explanation. This wasn’t a real job.
But when he neither showed up to help with breakfast, nor to eat breakfast, Vivian stopped Levi and Drake before they left the cafeteria. “Have you guys seen Eli?”
Drake looked at her through bloodshot eyes. “We went out last night.”
Vivian stared at both of them, trying not to let her mouth drop open. Out. “With Eli?”
“Oh, yeah.” Levi yawned then winced. “He was our DD. Then he had to help with the goat. Probably up till two or three, wouldn’t you say, Drake?”
“At least.”
Goat. Late night. Vivian was completely and utterly lost as the two men ambled off. Viv considered her options. In the end, there was only one that was going to give her peace of mind.
She grabbed her coat and left the cafeteria, mess and all, and began the hike to the mens’ quarters. She walked passed all the group bunks to the lone cabin at the end where she knew Eli lived.
She marched herself all the way up to his door and knocked. She had no idea why she hadn’t sent someone else to handle it. Why she was here. What she was doing.
But she felt compelled. Was he okay? Did he want to take a day off? Would—
He answered the door. His hair was mussed and he only wore a pair of pants he’d clearly just pulled on and not fastened.
Viv found herself uncharacteristically speechless. She’d seen broad shoulders before. A sleep rumpled guy who made her heart beat a little bit faster. She had seen all of those things before.
But they’d never hit her like such a bolt of lightning. Her mouth was dry and absolutely no sound came out...not that she knew what she’d say if she could manage to make a noise.
“Viv?” He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Time s’it?”
“Well, ten.”
“Ten.” He swore. “I missed breakfast. Sorry. Somehow...” He looked back into the dark, solitary cabin. “Overslept.”
“I was just a little worried.” She really had to stop staring at his chest. At the tattoo there. It wasn’t anything particularly special. An eagle perched on an anchor.
“Sorry. Not sure what happened. Haven’t slept that deep and long in a while.”
“I’m sorry I woke you up then.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry you had to do breakfast without me.”
“I managed.”
It was as if those two words fully woke him up. His expression got more guarded, and there was something stiff about the way he held himself. “Sure.”
Look him in the eye, Vivian Armstrong. It took way too much willpower to move her gaze from his naked torso up to his eyes.
They were expressionless, so she forced herself to smile brightly and sound like her usual cheery, breezy self. “I could use some help with he cleanup, unless you wanted—”
“No, just need my...clothes.”
“Uh huh,” she said, and that didn’t sound casual at
all. It sounded breathy and foolish.
Even as he moved away from the door, he left it open despite the frigid air. She stared at that, then him. He moved around the room and his back was just as, if not more, impressive as the front.
What was it about broad shoulders that moved into a narrow waist. What was it about mussed hair and bare feet? What was it about Eli Sterling?
She tried to shake some sense into herself. Okay, he was hot. It wasn’t the end of the world. She thought he was attractive. There were a lot of men she thought were attractive and she never acted on every flutter and moment of appreciation.
But when he put a shirt on she breathed a sigh of relief because, lordy, she’d wanted to do something and that would be a disaster.
You cannot under any circumstances get involved with Eli Sterling.
He pulled on socks and laced up his boots and she stood on the porch watching him. She simply didn’t know what else to do. He gathered his things—phone, coat, stocking cap.
Then he was standing on the porch next to her, looking like everything about this very strange interaction was easy and normal.
Sure. It was. They were friends, more or less. He was probably used to women ogling him, maybe even awkwardly from his front porch. She didn’t know what he did in his free time or what he’d done at home.
He began to walk and Vivian had no choice but to follow him, at an uncharacteristic loss for words.
“I got a goat off the roof last night,” he said into the silence
Vivian stared at his back. He was...chatting? As they walked? “Oh. I... Ron Swanson, right?”
“Yeah, he was up on the guys’ bunk. We came back from Pioneer Spirit and there he was. I had to help Alex get this chicken, and then the damndest thing—once the goat sees the chicken, he hops off the roof and heads back to the barn.”
“Rasputin.”
“Huh?”
“The chicken’s name is Rasputin.”
“Fits. Things creepy as hell.” He chuckled—chuckled. “Never held a chicken or dealt with a goat before. I can’t say I ever expected to.”
“I’m used the strange behaviors of farm animals. I grew up on a farm. You’d be surprised how downright weird and human-like animals can be.”
