“I’m not telling you.” Wry humor glinted in his eye. “You’ll be happier that way. Trust me.”
“You do realize that I can’t pick you up or carry you back,” she said drily.
Brody turned toward her, his dark eyes fastened on her face with a strangely tender look. “Kate, you don’t have to carry me anywhere.”
Brody kicked his horse into motion then recoiled. Kaitlyn wished she couldn’t decipher all these hints about his discomfort. He was right—it would be easier not to know, especially since he wouldn’t listen to her anyway. Brody was scanning the field ahead of them—tension in his shoulders. He was pushing himself past a different kind of pain threshold for this, too. He was riding like he had a gun trained on his back, his head constantly pivoting as he scanned the land ahead of them.
She heeled Mary Kay forward and caught up with Brody as they trotted out into the field. The horses snorted and Champ shook his head—they were eager to get moving. The sun was getting lower in the winter sky, but there was still plenty of daylight left. Kaitlyn drew in a breath that smelled of warm horse and freedom.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Fine.” He glanced at her sideways, but then his gaze slid past her, behind her, around her...
“You’re home,” she reminded him. “No enemy here, Brody.”
His dark gaze snapped back to her face and he let out a slow breath. “I know. Hard habit to break.”
They could canter along here, Brody searching for invisible dangers, or they could ride. This wasn’t the nurse in her making the call—this was the friend.
“You feel up to a gallop?” she asked.
A smile turned up one side of his mouth and they kicked their horses into motion. There was something about a galloping horse that made Kaitlyn’s heart hover in her chest, joy crashing through her. She knew why Brody wanted to ride—really ride—but despite the enjoyment of a good gallop, she couldn’t quite set to rest her nagging worry about his leg.
They slowed after a few minutes, and Kaitlyn found herself ahead of Brody this time. She turned in her saddle and looked back at him. He was tall and muscular, and in that saddle he looked as peaceful as she’d seen him since his return. His army time had stripped him of boyish playfulness and hardened him in ways she couldn’t quite touch. If Nina had been able to get a snapshot of the man Brody would toughen into after his time in Afghanistan, would she have been so eager to move on with Brian? Brody had always been a handsome guy, but his honed strength made those good looks just a little less resistible.
“What?” he asked, noticing her scrutiny.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
She winced at that word. He was joking, but it stabbed a little deeper given their most recent history.
“Did you know that the army would change you this much?” she asked after a moment.
“Yeah.” He eased his horse closer to hers, and he adjusted himself in the saddle with a suppressed wince. “They warn you about that, too. You’ll never be the same. Once a soldier, always a soldier. It’s kind of like being a cowboy—once it’s in you, there’s no going back. But they didn’t tell me how lonely it would be.”
His expression turned suddenly sad, and those steely eyes softened.
“Are you lonely?” she asked quietly.
“Aren’t we all?”
It wasn’t a direct answer, but it hinted at what lay beneath. What he’d seen, what he’d done and all those experiences that set him apart had also walled him off. No one could truly understand what he’d been through unless they were there. When he scanned the land like that, no one else saw the ghosts that he did.
“What about your friends?” she asked. “Have you heard from them?”
“I’ve heard from a few army buddies.”
“What about your friends here?” she asked.
“I got a couple of phone calls. Mostly, people are uncomfortable.”
That made sense. His friends had been Nina’s friends, too. Breakups could be awkward, and even more so when you were a personal part of hiding it from a wounded vet.
“That’s our fault, I think,” Kaitlyn said. “We told them to keep a secret, but secrets only wedge people apart.”
“Yeah, well, so do war stories.”
Brody glanced at the sky, and Kaitlyn noticed that those scudding gray clouds had thickened and gathered, blocking out the wan sunlight. The wind picked up, too, whistling over the rolling plains ahead of them and whipping the snow into a tornado of glittering white. She shivered, hitching up her shoulders to protect her neck from the chilly probing fingers of the wind.
They rode in silence for quite some time, both in their own thoughts, and then the first snow started to fall.
“We should head back,” Kaitlyn called, and Brody reined Champ in and looked over his shoulder the way they’d come, then up at the sky.
“The old barn is closer,” he replied. “We can wait it out there.”
Without waiting for her response, he pulled Champ around and headed north. Kaitlyn looked toward the ranch, now hidden behind the swell of a snow-washed hill, then sighed.
“Brody!” she called.
“Come on!” he shouted. “Or head back, if you want.”
She remembered the old homestead from when they were kids. It was a rotting, sagging house next to a barn in similar condition. She hadn’t seen it in a decade or more, and she was idly curious how much of it would still be standing. It was the house that Brody’s great-great-grandfather had started out in...or had it been a great-great-uncle? She couldn’t remember exactly.
Obviously, she wasn’t going to leave him on his own, so she heeled Mary Kay into a trot and started closing the distance between her and Brody. He would have been better off with Aunt Bernice as his nurse—a middle-aged woman with some muscle and a flat stare. As it was, Kaitlyn didn’t seem to have any ability to make Brody do what was good for him. And apparently, she didn’t always want to.
He didn’t look back once, but when she caught up he shot her a rueful smile.
“Last time we were out here, I kissed you.”
He’d been all of twelve, and Kaitlyn had been ten at the time. The kiss had been chaste. Brody had pulled back and gone red, mumbled something about thinking she was pretty, and then picked up a rock and tossed it through a window. That same summer, Nina got her first bra, and the rest was history.
“We also broke windows,” she reminded him with a soft laugh.
“I seem to remember that.”
The snow was coming down more heavily now, and the wind whisked it back into their faces.
“Let’s go!” Brody shouted over the wind, one hand holding his hat on his head, and they urged their horses into a gallop as they thundered across the field toward shelter.
* * *
THE SAGGING OLD barn rose like a blurry lump through the snowfall. Brody knew this land like the back of his hand, but it was different now. The hazy blur used to be comforting, but now it seemed ominous. Rubble, ruins and obscured vision were a lethal combination out there in the desert.
This isn’t Afghanistan, he reminded himself. I’m home. This is safe.
It just didn’t feel safe anymore. The cold wind angled through his jeans and chilled his hands through his gloves. He could hear Kaitlyn’s horse close on his heels and when he glanced back, she was bent low, her hat down to shield her face from the blowing snow.
She’d asked for space and stuck to her boundaries. She came twice a day—once for riding and once for checking on his meds. She still claimed this lightening of her duties was for him. But he was too much—his pain was leaking over the edges and other people couldn’t handle it. Even his nurse. Everyone wanted to be around the strong, capable cowboy, but the broken soldier was different. His very presenc
e spoke of things no one wanted to think about too much.
The old house was farther off, the chimney standing tall despite the condition of the rest of the place. He’d been thinking of this spot for a few days now...wondering how much of it would still be standing. The decrepit house used to capture his imagination when he was young. Once he’d gone through the house with his sister, and they’d found a few things that must have belonged to their great-grandparents—some spoons, a pair of rubber boots, a tin kettle, a broken toaster. Nothing too romantic or intriguing, but as a kid, it had brought that sagging house to life again in his imagination—a link to the Masons’ past.
He wouldn’t go back into the house now. It wouldn’t be the same—he wouldn’t be able to help himself from scanning for booby traps and trip wires...listening for that tiny click that came before a detonation. Sometimes it was better to not torture himself.
The middle of the barn roof was sunken in like an old horse’s back, a blanket of snow covering it almost tenderly. The side sheds had since moldered and collapsed. The alley doors stood open, rusted hinges frozen in that position for decades. Champ shied back as Brody urged him forward, but a swirl of frigid snow changed the horse’s mind and he obediently plodded into the dim interior.
Brody stopped, let his eyes adjust and slowed his breathing.
“What?” Kaitlyn followed close behind and dismounted. “What’s wrong?”
Nothing. Nothing was wrong. It was only the old barn. He just had to remind himself of that. There’d be a few rats, some mice, maybe even a bat or two, but no snipers, no dirty bombs.
His leg and hip were on fire. He guided Champ closer to a rail.
“Is that going to hold me?” he asked.
Kaitlyn gave it a shake. “Seems sturdy enough.”
Dismounting was painful, but once he was on the ground, it felt good to move a bit. That was a good sign. He couldn’t just stand here with that darkness at his back, though, and he limped to the open door and looked out at the drifting snowflakes. Wind howled through the eaves, but they were sheltered inside at least.
“How is your leg?”
Kaitlyn’s voice pulled him back, and he shot her a wan smile. “About what you’d expect.”
He knew she hated those vague answers, but his reticence wasn’t about trying to hide his condition from her so much as trying to mentally suppress it himself. If he let the pain in and tried to accurately gauge how much it hurt, he’d lose that careful control he managed to maintain. Besides, his leg wasn’t his biggest injury—he suffered more from what happened inside his own head.
Kaitlyn tugged an old bench into the splash of daylight, giving it one final heave until it was in position. Then she straightened.
“Sit,” she said.
He didn’t have it in him to argue, and he lowered himself onto the bench, his bad leg out straight in front of him. What he wouldn’t give for that roaring fire right now. Kaitlyn sat next to him. She brushed the snow off her pants, then took off her hat and shook the snow from the rim before replacing it. Her face was pale in the dim light, and her jaw trembled slightly as she shivered.
“Come here,” he said, and she scooted closer but still left a little gap between them. That wasn’t going to do much good if they were going to keep each other warm. “All the way.”
Kaitlyn scooted the last two inches so that her leg pressed against his and she fit perfectly under his arm, the warmth of her body mingling with his, rooting him to the present. This helped—keeping his brain in the here and now.
“This is highly unprofessional,” she said after a moment.
“Probably.” He chuckled, low and soft. “We’ll go back to our careful distance when we’re warm and dry. Deal?”
She felt good close against him, and it wasn’t just a woman’s touch, either. Granted, he’d been a year without it, but just any woman wouldn’t have tugged down his defenses the way she did. There was something about her—the way she knew him too well, the way she didn’t seem to act any part when she was with him.
Except nurse. But he grudgingly liked that challenge.
“The birthday party for our dads is at our place this year,” Kaitlyn said.
“Yeah?” He wasn’t sure what to say to that. It was a tradition, and he’d been wanting to get back into the saddle for that trail ride. Somehow, things had changed since his return, and he wasn’t as keen to do this.
“You’ll come, won’t you?” she asked.
Brody shook his head. “I know my dad would want me there, but I think I’ve let him down enough since I got back. Besides, sitting doing the birthday thing with Nina and Brian isn’t high on my list of enjoyable activities.”
Kaitlyn didn’t answer, but he could tell she didn’t like it. He couldn’t see her face, so he pulled her hat off and tossed it beside them.
“What?” he said.
She pulled her fingers through her hair, tugging it away from her face. She was beautiful in that dim, stormy light. Her eyes were dark and luminous, and he found himself transfixed. The scent of her was so close, tugging at him despite his earnest effort to ignore it.
“You should come,” she said.
“I really don’t want to.” He couldn’t be much clearer than that. Breakups happened, but normally after your fiancée up and married someone else, a guy could count on family birthday parties without the in-person reminder.
“Okay, okay...” She sighed. “I do understand that. You know, Nina ruined things for all of us. She broke your heart—and I know that my complaints don’t really compare—but I was looking forward to this birthday party.” Her voice softened. “With you.”
“I thought you wanted space,” he said.
“I—” She stopped, color rising in her face. He’d caught her there.
“Didn’t you?” he probed. “So why pull me into a family dinner?”
“It isn’t just a family dinner. This is...tradition. We’ve done this party with our dads since we were all in diapers. I still miss...us.” She shrugged weakly, and he wondered who was included in that word. Both families coming together, or something more intimate? “Brian isn’t the same. He tries really hard, but... Anyway, they’ll be back in Hope tomorrow, and we’ll all have to face the new reality.”
It did feel good to have Brian not measure up in some way. And did she say that Brian and Nina would be back in Hope as early as tomorrow? That little nugget of news hit him in a tender spot. He’d been getting over her, but seeing the happy couple wouldn’t be easy.
“Glad to hear I rank higher for someone,” he said with a note of bitterness in his tone.
“Well, you do.” She fixed him with her direct, no-nonsense stare. “So I lost out on you as my brother-in-law, and I’m mad about that.”
Brother-in-law. Yes, that was the plan, wasn’t it? But right now, looking at her with her loose hair and eyes sparkling with emotion, he wasn’t feeling all that brotherly. Had she always been like this—soft and open in a way that made him want to take some serious advantage?
“Brian does a fairly good Martha Stewart impression,” he said, keeping his face deadpan. “There’s always that.”
Kaitlyn laughed and rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Brody.”
That was the old Kaitlyn shining through—the Kaitlyn with the ponytail and the pile of books in front of her... He hadn’t realized back then how much he’d counted on her to just be there. Teasing her, making her roll her eyes that way—it was a welcome relief.
“He also plays the spoons,” Brody added. “I’m not even joking. And he sings in church. Like, very earnestly. You could always ask him to sing a hymn if things get slow.”
Kaitlyn smacked his arm and shook her head. “Laugh it up, Brody, but I’m stuck with this guy in my family!”
And in a way, Brian had stolen that family f
rom Brody, and he resented that. A lot. He’d been looking forward to family gatherings with Kaitlyn, too...mind you, now he was starting to see her in a whole new light.
“Nurses shouldn’t smack their patients,” he teased, but this time instead of laughing, she sobered. That hadn’t been his intention, and he immediately regretted the words.
“No, they shouldn’t,” she agreed, and the open laughter seemed as far away as a dream. She cleared her throat and looked out toward the drifting snow.
“Kate...”
“You’re right—”
“I was joking!” he exclaimed. “I’ve been trying to crack the whole nurse persona of yours since you arrived.”
“It’s not a persona, Brody. This is my profession.”
He’d insulted her, and he hadn’t meant to. He sighed and reached for her hand. She didn’t reach back, but she also didn’t pull away when his fingers closed around hers. He was tired of pretending that everything was okay, that his heart was intact, that his soul hadn’t been scarred just as deeply as his leg in that explosion. He was tired of Kaitlyn being his nurse—always a few steps further than he wished she could be.
“Maybe I don’t want to be your patient. Maybe I like it when you tell me to shut up and roll your eyes at me.”
Maybe he liked it when she’d hold her breath because he was leaning over her, the way her lips parted when his breath tickled them. It was as simple as that, really. And add the fact that he was finding himself increasingly attracted to her...what was he supposed to do, just accept that everyone was going to treat him like a land mine, tiptoeing around him lest he go off? His body might be wounded, but he was still a man!
“You’ll have to let me rebel a little bit, Kate,” he said, his voice lowering. “I don’t make a very meek patient.”
“I’d noticed...” Her whisper was soft, and when she met his gaze this time, she’d lost that reserve, and he could see deeper emotions swimming under the surface. Those lips...why was it that when he looked at her pink rosebud mouth, the only thing that seemed logical was to kiss her?
The Cowboy's Valentine Bride Page 11
