“I was out in the indoor riding arena with Graham this morning,” he told her, putting the warmed eggs on a plate. “I asked him which horse would be a good one for me to learn to ride on.”
“Oh, that’s great. What did Grandpa say?”
He brought the plate and flatware over to Callie. “He said there’s a twenty-five-year-old quarter horse named Dude who would be good for me.”
“Dude is quiet and smart,” Callie agreed.
“Want some toast?”
“That would be great, Beau. Thank you.” She was still drowsy. Getting a good night’s sleep though, a full seven hours, uninterrupted, made her feel so much better—it was amazing. After he brought over a plate of toast and strawberry jam, Beau joined her. He sat at her right elbow, watching her eat with her right hand.
“How’s the arm doing this morning?”
“Better. I can feel it’s still weak, but it’s so nice to be able to eat with my right hand again.”
“Do you think you can still teach me to ride?” he teased.
“I think so. After you learn the basics, shall we go for a short trail ride this afternoon? It looks sunny out.”
He turned to look out the window. “Yes, that would be great. Right now, it’s about thirty degrees outside.”
“We’ll dress warmly,” she promised. Looking over at their tree, she said, “Tonight, let’s trim it. Sound good?”
“Sure. It looks like there are plenty of leftover decorations from the family tree.”
“There are,” she agreed, enjoying her food. “We’ll go over and get some boxes of stuff later.”
Beau nodded. He watched Callie eat with real enjoyment for the first time since he’d arrived. She seemed happy. And relaxed. And she was going to be his.
*
By two p.m., Beau was on Dude, in a comfortable western saddle riding next to Callie, who was on Ghost, the gray cutting horse. He wondered if Graham McKinley had given him that name and smiled secretly. Beau would have put money on it and planned to ask the Marine just that later when he saw him.
Beau’s butt was sore, but at least he’d learned how to steer Dude and not make a complete fool of himself. Riding a horse was a helluva lot of different than throwing a leg over a mule’s broad back. The afternoon was perfect, with no wind, a warm sun, and a deep blue winter sky vault above them. Callie was leading him from the indoor arena toward a flat trail that skirted the massive pastures where the cattle remained. It was a wide trail, and two horses could easily walk together. Beau liked that their legs occasionally touched one another. The change in Callie was remarkable and filled him with hope. Graham had been right about getting her outdoors.
“I noticed in the main house that there was a room with a long metal barre at the wall with mirrors behind it,” he said, holding her gaze. “Is that where you work out and belly dance?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, smiling. “I go over there every other day and work out. I know you operators are always working out on heavy gym equipment there at Bagram, but I would go over to the women’s gym and do the same thing. Only”—she held up her gloved hand—“I didn’t do weight lifting. I did a lot of warm-up and stretching exercises before putting on some Turkish belly-dancing music, plugging in my iPod earbuds, and then dancing.”
“Wish I could see you do that.”
She smiled. “Tomorrow? I work out about three p.m. every other day. You can come over and watch how athletic belly dancing really is.”
“I’d like that. You were incredibly graceful and hot when you danced at Bagram.” He saw her cheeks grow pink beneath his gruffly spoken compliment.
“Thanks. I think you’re getting a heck of a workout around here, Beau. Every time I see you, you’re helping Grandpa. There’s a lot of work that goes on in the winter, and he’s shorthanded during the holiday season. A lot of his wranglers go home at that time.”
“I like helping out. You’re feeding me and keeping a roof over my head, so why shouldn’t I pay you back in some way?” His pulse bounded as she gave him a blinding smile and he saw the gold dancing in the depths of her eyes. More hope filled Beau, because more than anything, he wanted to help Callie get through this trauma period.
Never mind, he was falling even more helplessly in love with her every hour they were together. The ache to love her grew every day within him. They were slowly moving toward one another, and he could feel her wanting him. Beau was sure Callie knew he wanted her. It wasn’t like he could hide his physical reaction to her. And he was positive that last night she’d been well aware of his hard erection against her backside.
Every day, they moved closer to one another. And every day, Beau was grateful to be here with her. When would she give the signal to him? He knew he was physically attracted to her, but his heart and his soul were equally invested in her as well. Beau had never felt what he felt for Callie before. He couldn’t see his life without her being a permanent part of it.
CHAPTER 20
Beau had never seen a belly dancer work out, so he was more than a little curious as Callie led him into her dance room at the main house the next afternoon. They had already spent the morning cleaning out box stalls, with Beau doing most of the heavy work because Callie’s broken arm could not handle the weight of a pitchfork full of straw and horse poop. But she did help by currycombing each horse as he cleaned out six stalls. They worked well together, and both of them felt a new connection beginning to form between them.
The sunlight poured into two large windows opposite the barre where Callie was beginning her stretching exercises. Beau sat down on the shining cedar floor, its red and gold colors showing its age and beauty. The door to the exercise room was open, and Maisy popped in.
“Oh, good,” she called to Callie. “It’s great to see you back at work,” and she grinned, waved to them, and continued down the hall.
Beau observed Callie, now wearing gray sweatpants and a loose red T-shirt that hung to her slender waist. Her molten hair was up in a ponytail. Her bare feet gave her an especially vulnerable look this morning.
The room was cool but not cold, and Callie’s iPod sat nearby on the floor. She had looked up from her stretching as her grandmother had greeted her.
“Have you not been doing your usual exercises?” Beau asked.
“No,” Callie admitted. “When I got home, I felt paralyzed. Like a wounded rabbit, all I wanted to do for the first five days was hide in my bedroom. I slept a lot, but it was all broken sleep peppered with nightmares.”
Nodding, Beau said nothing. Callie looked delicious as she held her hand on the barre and then did what she called a “fencing position stretch,” getting her thighs warmed up for the demands that would be put on them later. The windows behind him showed off the bright azure sky, and the western sunshine poured into the area, warming it naturally. In two more days, it would be Christmas.
They had decorated their tree last night and it turned out to be a lot of fun, giving their cabin a festive look.
Now Graham came to a halt in the doorway, his hands on his hips.
“About time,” he called out to Callie.
She grinned. “Hi, Grandpa. Yeah, if I don’t get back to doing this, I’ll lose all that muscle I need for dancing,” she said, and smiled over at him.
“That’s true. Well, it’s good to see you working out again, Callie.” Graham buttonholed Beau. “I’m going into Butte—got to make a run for more sweet feed. Want to go along?”
Beau stood. “Yes, sir.” He gave Callie an apologetic look. “Maybe I can stay next time for your workout, gal.”
She wiped the dampness off her brow. “Sure, no worries. You guys go have fun! And hey, stay out of trouble.” Laughter bubbled out of her.
Graham winked at her. “Nah, our type attracts it. But we’ll be on our best behavior, baby girl. See you later.” He lifted his hand, disappearing down the hall.
Beau smiled and caught up with Graham. He’d been trying to get into town the last few d
ays because he wanted to buy Callie’s family Christmas gifts. Graham knew about his plan and had promised to take him to town. Just his luck that it would happen now! Beau had been looking forward to seeing Callie belly dance once more.
*
On the way into town, Graham said, “Callie’s coming out of her shell.”
“Yes, sir, she seems to be.” Beau enjoyed the drive into the city. The freeway was now clear of snow and ice and the landscape around them was blinding, with white snowbanks dotted with evergreens in thick groves.
“The fact that she’s back doing her belly-dancing exercises tells me a lot.” Graham slowed down as he hit the outer limits of the town. “What about her nightmares? She was getting them just about every night when she first came home.”
Beau wasn’t going to tell him about the one night he’d slept with Callie. “They seem to be getting less frequent. The last two nights, she’s slept through the night and hasn’t woken up screaming.”
Graham grunted and then said, “Is that hard on you?”
“Yes, sir. But we know the drill. There isn’t a black ops man who doesn’t have some trauma every now and then. It actually helps me to help Callie.”
“True,” Graham said. He turned down a street. “There’s a shopping mall up ahead. You said you wanted to get Callie a gift for Christmas. I’ll drop you here and then drive over to the feed store. It will take me about an hour. I’ll meet you out at the front door then, all right?”
Beau nodded, seeing the shopping mall coming up on their right. “Yes, sir, that would be fine. Thanks.”
*
By the time Beau returned to the ranch, it was five p.m., and he thanked Graham for the ride and trotted around the parking area and off to the cabin. Smoke was rising from the chimney in the pink dusk light. Just above the western horizon, he could see a thin slice of a recent new moon. It was quiet and beautiful as he stomped his boots free of snow and entered the cabin.
“Good timing!” Callie called from the kitchen.
Beau met her smile and closed the door. “Smells good. What’s for dinner tonight?” He shucked out of his winter coat and hung everything on the pegs on the wall. He had a sack in his hand and he took it down to his bedroom, returning afterward.
Sauntering into the kitchen, he inhaled the tangy scent. “What are you making? It really smells great.” he said, leaning over her shoulder at the stove. Callie was wearing a frilly pink apron, which Maisy, the seamstress in the house, had made for her.
“I made us meatloaf with real mashed potatoes, and I’m making the gravy right now.”
“Never bother a woman makin’ gravy,” he said, leaning down, pressing a kiss to her temple. He wanted to do more, but he wasn’t going to destroy a good meal by turning her around and kissing her senseless. Which is exactly what Beau wanted to do. “How about I set the table for us?”
“Go ahead,” Callie said, giving him a warm look. She stirred the gravy in the pot with a whisk. “What did you get in town?”
“Oh, a few things I needed,” Beau said, purposely vague. He pulled down the plates from the cabinet. “How did your workout go?”
“Good, but after not doing it for two weeks, I can feel the difference.”
“You’ll get back into working out every other day, and your body will snap right back into it. Muscle memory.”
“Says the Delta Force operator,” she said with a chuckle.
Beau felt the warmth in the cabin, but really it was Callie’s presence. She looked fetching in her jeans and bright green sweater, her hair still in a ponytail. The pink apron made her look very domestic, and he could definitely get used to this.
“Graham and I unloaded about a thousand pounds of sweet feed into the main horse barn when we got back,” he told her, laying out the flatware on the table.
“We were running low,” Callie explained. “There’s another front coming in two days from now. He likes to be stocked up in case we have a blizzard.”
“There’s always work on a ranch,” he agreed.
They fell into a companionable routine. Beau set the table, made them a salad, and got their drinks. Callie brought the large meatloaf on a platter, pulled the mashed potatoes out of the warmer, and put fresh, hot rolls on the table. Beau pulled out a chair for Callie to sit in, then sat at her elbow, serving her first.
“This reminds me so much of my own family,” he confided. “Ma has an old iron Ruby wood-burning stove like we have in the cabin, as well as at the main house. Brings back lots of good memories.”
“Dara and I learned to cook on the wood stove,” Callie told him, enthusiastically digging into her dinner. “We didn’t have electric or gas until we left home. And believe me, there’s an art to cooking and baking on a wood stove.”
“Oh,” he murmured, “I know. Ma made us three boys learn to cook on it, too.”
“I would love to meet your family someday, Beau.”
His heart pulsed. “I think we can make that happen,” he said. In his head, he had a vision of bringing Callie home to his family, introducing his wife-to-be. Every day, Callie was responding positively to his being in her life, along with Graham’s strong suggestion to get her outdoors and working.
Everyone healed differently, Beau realized. For athletic, type A people like Callie, movement was the key. For someone like Dara, sitting around and reading a good book, being alone and quiet, helped her heal. Beau was glad Callie was so athletic and loved being outdoors, because he did, too.
“Our families seem to be so similar,” she said, cutting into her meatloaf.
“They’re both country folks, and both have a wood cooking and baking stove, animals, and a garden.” He met and held her gaze, seeing yearning in her eyes for him. “You’re in the mountains of Montana and we’re in the hills of West Virginia. You have cattle and horses and we don’t.”
“But your pa tans hides. That’s working with animals in a different way.”
“True enough.”
Their dinner was a special gift to Beau. He loved their time talking and sharing. Afterward, he cleared the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. He’d bought some chocolate chip cookies at a bakery at the shopping mall, and produced them along with coffee.
Then, their intimacy was gone. Callie tired easily and she apologetically excused herself, going to the small office down the hall from the two bedrooms. Beau knew she called Dara every night and sometimes, they would talk for nearly an hour. He smiled a little as he cleaned up the kitchen and prepared it for breakfast the next morning. He ached to be in bed with her tonight but made no move, gave no verbal cues.
To push Callie would be crazy and he knew it. Yet, there were only three weeks left, and already he was grieving that he’d have to leave her behind. At least when he did, he knew she would be safe. He’d be going back to Afghanistan, but she would be home, surrounded by loving family, no bullets being fired at her. That gave him a sense of peace he wouldn’t have had if Callie had decided to go back to Kabul and work at the orphanage.
He watched television out in the living room for about an hour, his gaze straying toward the popping, crackling fireplace. Having shut off the kitchen light, Beau enjoyed the flames leaping and jumping, creating different shadows around the room. There was peace in this cabin. And happiness. Even though Callie was in the office and probably catching up on Facebook with her Hope Charity friends, this cozy place felt like home. Their home.
Beau didn’t want to go there, but his heart did. This cabin would be perfect for them. It was small, nurturing, and intimate. For the first time since he’d entered the Army, he allowed himself to dream of a future—with Callie. He was nearly dozing when he awakened, hearing Callie’s slippered feet coming down the cedar hall toward the living room.
He saw she was in her favorite old flannel granny gown and her chenille bathrobe. He must have dozed for a while, because she smelled of just having come from a bath, her cheeks a flushed pink.
“Sorry,” she said.
“I didn’t mean to wake you, but it’s nearly eleven p.m. I’m hitting the sack.” She leaned over where he sat, kissing his cheek. “Good night, Beau … Thank you for being here for me …”
That feminine scent of hers drove him crazy with need of her. Beau wanted to reach up, slide his hand behind her nape, and draw her down and really kiss her. Her hair tickled his face as she pulled away from him. “I’ll get a shower and hit the sack, too,” he mumbled, hearing the drowsiness in his voice.
“Okay,” she said, straightening. “See you in the morning. Good night …”
Beau sat there, seeing the yearning in her eyes for him. But she said nothing. Disappointed, he slowly sat up, rubbing his face as the door to her bedroom quietly shut.
*
Callie’s scream had Beau snapping upright in bed. He moved, throwing the covers off, her cry scaring the hell out of him. Having no idea of time, he had left his door ajar as always, wanting to keep tabs on Callie in case she got up or needed something. He went to her door, knocking softly.
It opened. Callie’s hair was mussed, her face drawn, tears in her eyes.
“Nightmare?” he asked thickly, reaching out, opening his arms to her. She was in her nightgown, looking so damned vulnerable. Every particle in his body surged forward, wanting to protect her.
Callie nodded, her lower lip trembling as she came into his arms. Groaning, he took her full weight, her arms going around his waist as she buried her head against his chest beneath his chin. Sweet. So sweet. And rounded, curved, and so damned feminine. He felt his erection growing quickly, and there was no way to hide it from Callie, whose round belly lay against it. He leaned down, kissing her temple, inhaling her subtle wildflower scent deeply into his lungs.
Hold On (Delos Series Book 5) Page 27
