Falling for the Hometown Hero

by Mindy Obenhaus

  Her gut tightened, her emotions fighting against the flimsy restraint she’d halfheartedly cinched around them. “So you’ll—”

  “Be here. Yes.” He didn’t sound any happier about the prospect than she was. And he had yet to look her in the eye. Obviously she wasn’t the only one with regrets about last night. So how come his bugged her?

  Once the tours departed, Grace didn’t see hide or hair of Kaleb. She had no doubt that he was hiding from her, trying to avoid any discussion about what had taken place last night.

  Fine by her. She’d rather forget the whole incident. Or at least that was what she told herself. Yet images still crept into the forefront of her mind and she’d find herself wondering what it would be like to have the love of a man like Kaleb. A man who loved through actions and not just words. A man who knew what love really meant.

  Shaking them away, she heard the garage door open. That could only mean—

  “Grace, I think we need to talk.”

  She turned away from the computer and, for the first time today, allowed herself to look into Kaleb’s handsome face. “About?”

  “I think you know.” Still standing a few feet from the counter, he removed his camo army ball cap and scratched a hand through his short hair before tugging the cap back into place. “I shouldn’t have kissed you last night.”

  She lowered her gaze, not wanting to feel the stab of pain his words inflicted on her heart. Of course he shouldn’t have kissed her. Now that he’d had time to think, he probably realized the error of his ways. After all, what man would want a woman who couldn’t bear him children?

  “Though I can’t say that I’m sorry about it either. Just the timing. You were vulnerable, and I took advantage of that.”

  He thought she was vulnerable? When she’d wanted, practically initiated, that kiss?

  She lifted her head as he moved closer.

  “I like you, Grace.” His smile was bashful and boyish, which only added to his charm. “I like you a lot. And, given the opportunity, I’d like to see where things could lead with us.”

  Us? What us? There was no us. She was leaving in September.

  But he wants there to be.

  She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, not sure how she felt about what he’d just said. The part of her that could fall for Kaleb in a heartbeat wanted to run with the prospect. But the practical, been-burned-before part of her told her to keep her distance.

  “I—uh...”

  He lifted a palm to stop her. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” Shoving his hands in the pockets of his medium wash jeans, he started toward the garage. “I just wanted to acknowledge the elephant in the room and let you know how I feel.” With that, he shoved through the door and was gone.

  So much for taking control of her emotions. They’d now broken loose and were running rampant. Some wanted to fist-pump the air, while others were ready to run and hide.

  She’d never felt more conflicted. Imagining herself with Kaleb was so easy. But she’d been down that road before and the results were disastrous.

  Besides, she had other commitments. Commitments that took her far away from Ouray.

  Her gaze drifted to the window, taking in all that was small-town life. The flags that lined Main Street waving in the breeze, the old buildings painted in an array of colors and people stopping to chat on the street.

  Oh, but Ouray wasn’t just any small town. The mountains that enveloped it, along with their rich history, were the very essence of Ouray. Her focus lifted to the evergreen-blanketed slopes at the town’s edge. The pioneering spirit may not have been born in Ouray, but it still thrived. In the month that she’d been here, she’d met person after person who had given up their homes, jobs and 401(k) plans in exchange for something more meaningful. Something fulfilling. No matter how hard they had to work.

  Her phone rang, stirring her from her thoughts.

  “Hey, Roger. How’s Mama?” Little by little she was growing more comfortable with him. In no way, shape or form was he the opportunistic man she’d once imagined him to be.

  “Better than expected. Her color is back to normal, she’s breathing freely...”

  Grace’s heart swelled. “That is good news. Is she coming home today?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad to hear it. Tell Mama that Lucy called and she’s on her way up here for a few days.”

  “Donna will be happy about that. But, Grace, I was hoping... Well, would you reconsider staying with your mother and me for the rest of your time here in Ouray?”

  A smile started somewhere in her heart, quickly moving to her face. She opened her mouth, but the words refused to come.

  “You’ll have your own bedroom, your own bathroom. You can come and go as you please. It would mean a lot to both of us.”

  Her bottom lip quivered as unbidden tears trailed down her cheeks. Despite all her rebellion and ornery antics, God had given her the desire of her heart.

  “Thank you.” She sniffed, feeling rather humbled. “I think I’d like that very much.”

  * * *

  Wednesday evening, Kaleb could feel panic closing in. He eyed the boxes still stacked in his living room, his gut churning. He’d never make it by Saturday. At least not on his own. If he intended to get his stuff to the museum in time, he needed Grace’s help.

  He hated to ask her, though. She was dealing with her own stuff. Her mother, moving... Not to mention what a fool he was for kissing her.

  Still...

  He at least had to give it a shot. If she said no, well, he’d figure that out if and when the time came.

  Grabbing his car keys, he hurried outside, fired up his Jeep and headed the few blocks to Roger and Donna’s.

  What if Grace said no? Sure, things had been fine between them at work, but this wasn’t work. He was selfishly asking her to do something out of the goodness of her heart. Not much different than that night he took advantage of her kiss.

  But he wasn’t taking advantage of Grace. At least, he didn’t think so. He liked being with her. Valued her input. Trusted her enough to share his darkest secrets.

  Shadows covered Ouray as he parked alongside the road and made his way up the front steps, glancing at the unfamiliar car in the drive. Must belong to Grace’s sister.

  The window was open on the storm door, so he could hear voices and the television through the screen.

  With his heart beating erratically, he pressed the bell.

  “Hey, buddy.” Roger pushed open the door. “What’s up?”

  “Is Grace here?”

  “No, she went over to her campsite to shut things down and bring her trailer back here.” The older man stepped out onto the porch, wearing cargo shorts and a T-shirt. “I offered to go with her, but she insisted she could take care of it herself.”

  “That sounds like Grace.” He thought back to that day she first arrived, when she had a flat tire. She was good at refusing help. Although he suspected it had more to do with looking after her mother this time than accepting help. “Don’t worry, Roger. I’ll head on over there. See if I can’t give her a hand.” And, hopefully, vice versa.

  Windows open, he took off across town. This week had brought them some fantastic weather with above-normal temps, which was good for business. Lord willing, the warm weather would also speed up the snowmelt in the higher elevations, allowing the county to get some of the passes there open earlier than usual.

  Easing up to Grace’s campsite, he saw that her camper was once again a tiny trailer and hitched to the back of her bike. He took a minute to admire it. Another time, another place...

  Dressed in jeans and a gray United States Navy T-shirt, Grace lifted a footlocker onto the trailer’s tongue.

  He got out of the Jeep and started
toward her. “Need some help?”

  She blew at a stray hair that had escaped her clip to dangle in front of her face. “Little late, don’t you think?”

  He picked up the cooler. “I would have been happy to help, if somebody would have told me what they had planned.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She took hold of the cooler. “There are some bungee cords in my right saddlebag. Mind grabbing them for me?”

  He did and handed them to her.

  “Thanks.” While she secured the items, he scanned the now vacant campsite, feeling a bit melancholy that she was leaving. Well, moving, anyway.

  “Looks like you’ve got everything.”

  “Yep.” She slipped her hands into her back pockets. “I’ll settle up with Bud and Luann in the morning.”

  His gaze drifted to the fire pit, thinking about how integral it had been to their relationship. “I see you’ve got a few pieces of wood left.” He glanced at Grace. “Shame to let it go to waste.”

  Eyes narrowing, she perched her hands on her hips. “You can’t be serious.”

  “What? You know I love campfires.”

  She gestured to the three split logs. “There isn’t enough wood to make a big fire.”

  “Who said anything about big?” He simply wanted to have her to himself for a little longer.

  Shaking her head, she chuckled. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “I’ve been called worse things.” He gathered some twigs, tossed them into the pit. “So what do you say? I’ll still make sure we get your trailer back.”

  “We?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Yes, we. I came with the intention of helping you and I intend to do just that. No matter how late I might be.”

  “How did you—”

  “Would you mind handing me your lighter?” He’d seen it in her saddlebag.

  Digging through his pockets, he pulled out a couple of receipts and tucked them beneath the kindling. “Have a seat.” He gestured to the picnic table. “I’ll be right with you.”

  She puffed out a laugh. “You’re a mess, you know that?” She plopped down on the bench.

  “That’s me. An incorrigible mess.” He lit the papers. Waited a few moments before blowing on the flame. “We’ve had some interesting conversations around this fire pit.” As the flames spread, he added the larger twigs. “This’ll be our last hurrah.”

  “Let’s see.” She touched a finger to her chin. “It was here that I pushed you to reveal your baggage and it’s also where you pushed me to tell you mine. So what are we going to discuss this time?”

  He laid the split logs on the fire before joining her. They sparked and flared to life. “I don’t know. What baggage have you got left?”

  Her genuine laughter was like rain on parched soil.

  “I need your help, Grace. Saturday is the deadline to get my items to the museum. Yet, whenever I look at those boxes—”

  “You’re overwhelmed.”

  “Exactly.” He let go a sigh. “Look, I know you’ve got your own life to deal with...”

  “That’s true. However, do you know how upset my mother would be if you failed to meet that deadline? She’s convinced that your memorabilia is what’s going to make this exhibit.”

  He stared at Grace. Donna upset? That was hard to imagine. Disappointed maybe. “We definitely can’t have that.”

  “After what she’s been through, no, we cannot. So, we’ve got to hit it and hit it hard. Tomorrow night, Friday night, even Saturday morning, if need be.”

  “Um...” Dumbfounded, he scratched his head. “Okay. Yeah. I’m willing to put forth whatever it takes.”

  “That means no more distractions, you got that?” She was beginning to sound like a drill instructor.

  “You think I planned to have a leaky roof?”

  “No. But no more steak dinners. Pizza is fine. Sandwiches. Anything we can eat with one hand.”

  “Works for me.”

  As daylight faded, he kept his focus on the flames, but held out his hand. “How are things going? I mean, with your sister here and all?”

  Grace actually took hold. “Not too bad, I guess.”

  He sensed her hesitating. “But?”

  She took a deep breath. Blew it out. “Tonight, at dinner, Lucy announced she was pregnant.”

  Ouch. “How do you feel about that?”

  “I’m happy for her, of course. But she’s only been married a little over a year.” Grace lifted a shoulder. “It stings a little that she was able to achieve something I couldn’t.”

  “Did Lucy know you had been trying to get pregnant?”

  “No.” Grace shook her head, then laid it against his arm. A move so subtle, yet one that seemed to validate his feelings.

  “Grace?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Just for the record, when I kissed you, I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you.”

  Lifting her head, she looked at him as if he were crazy. “I know that.” Her gaze seemed to search his. “In case you couldn’t tell, I wanted you to kiss me.”

  “You did?” Hmm... Apparently his sensors were out of whack.

  “I did.” She let go of his hand. “And then I realized how selfish that was. I mean, I’m leaving in September. It’s not like we could have any kind of long-term relationship or anything.”

  He halfway smiled. “I had the same thoughts.” Although, it didn’t stop him from wishing. And praying. “But we could definitely stay in contact. Through email and such.”

  “Absolutely.”

  The wind rustled the leaves overhead, filling the void.

  He scanned the darkening sky. “I suppose we should get you back to your folks.” Eyeing the water spigot, he stood, knowing he’d need to douse the fire.

  “Yeah.” She pushed to her feet. “And then tomorrow night—”

  “We hit the boxes and work to make your mama happy.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Grace grabbed another box Friday night and pulled open the flaps. They’d made a lot of progress last night, coming up with a few items. Though they still hadn’t come across anything significant for the museum display. And at this rate, they might not.

  On the other side of Kaleb’s living room, he stood near the sofa sorting through stacks of photos. She was proud of him for his stick-to-itiveness. For pushing past whatever emotions he might be battling to get the job done. Because tomorrow they would be handing off whatever they came up with.

  Peering into her box, she saw layers of wadded packing paper, unlike the others where stuff had just been tossed inside. She removed the paper to find another slightly smaller box with a lid.

  “Any idea what might be in here?” She pulled out the smaller box and set it on top of another box.

  “Not a clue.” He was beside her now. “Shall we find out?”

  She watched as he lifted the lid, realizing it was a hatbox of some sort.

  Kaleb pulled out the tissue paper. “It’s my helmet.”

  No doubt about that. Except this helmet had a pretty hefty dent in it and the pixelated camo cover was torn in multiple spots, as though it had been pelted repeatedly.

  That was when it hit her. “Is this the helmet you were wearing when the IED went off?”

  “Sure is.” He pulled it from the box. “This thing probably saved my life.” He fingered the dent.

  Judging by the size and location of the spot... “I’m certain it did.” A shudder ran through her. Though she’d heard the extent of Kaleb’s injuries, this visual made her realize just how close he’d come to dying. And even though he was alive and well and standing beside her now, the thought still made her sad.

  “Guess you didn’t have to wear these in the navy.” He l
ooked from the helmet to her.

  “Nope.” She eyed the tattered piece. “I’m kind of glad, too. Looks a little cumbersome.”

  “You get used to it.” He shrugged. “Here.” He placed the helmet on her head. “How does that feel?”

  “It’s not near as heavy as I would have expected.” Since it was too big, she reached a hand to steady it.

  He stood back and smiled. “You look awful cute. But then, you always look cute.”

  The wink that accompanied his comment had a wave of heat creeping into her cheeks. Removing the helmet, she turned so he wouldn’t see. Cleared her throat. “That’s the sort of thing that would be perfect for the exhibit. That is, if you’re okay with it.”

  “No, I think it’s a great idea.” He set it back in the box, adding the tissue paper and lid before picking it up. “I’ll set it over here with the other items.” The adjacent dining room-turned-home gym was the designated drop zone for all potential museum items.

  Grace moved over to the box he’d been working on. Retrieved a stack of photos. “Have you considered loaning them one of your uniforms?”

  Now standing at the end of the sofa, hands resting low on his hips, he shook his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. I mean, I’ve got an entire closet full of uniforms.”

  “Looks like we just came up with another item.”

  “Which uniform, though?”

  Continuing to shuffle through pictures, she said, “If you still have one of your combat uniforms that would be good. Especially since Mama talked about you bringing things into the twenty-first century.” She glanced his way, shrugging. “The Universal Camouflage Pattern does just that.”

  “Okay.” He moved beside her, picking up the photos he’d been working on before. “I’ll grab it later. Just don’t let me forget.”

  “Are these pictures of you in Afghanistan?” She fanned out three images. One of him in full gear, standing near a Humvee, another of him with a series of tents in the background and yet another of him in the desert.

  He leaned closer. Close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from his bare arms. “Yep. Those were from my second tour.”