by Cheryl Wyatt
The too-careful, quiet way he watched her clued her in he’d noticed. Had he felt that kinetic flash upon contact, too? Hopefully not, or things would just get weird between them. Bad enough that Eagle Point’s Cupid Posse seemed intent on throwing them together.
Caleb gestured toward the door. “Ladies first.”
She nodded. “Surprise!” Kate announced as they strode in.
“Yay!” Tia squealed and rushed them like a little linebacker. She hugged their legs, squishing them a little too closely together for Kate’s peace of mind.
“Ian must’ve had a heads-up. He’s already grinning and dressed up,” Caleb observed, laughing. “Bri, you look as shocked as the baby raccoon Mom caught on this very kitchen counter ten years ago.” Nostalgia must have hit Caleb hard. He stilled and frowned for a moment, but recovered quickly.
Ian was still grinning at Bri so they didn’t notice.
“I’ve got stuff scattered all over the passenger seat of my car,” Ian admitted. “I’ll go clean it up so we can head out.”
“I’ll help.” Caleb rushed out the door after Ian, avoiding eye contact with Kate on the way. Man, he was super shy or antisocial or...something. Kate couldn’t put her finger on it.
Bri gushed her thanks and went to dress for their dinner date.
Caleb returned only moments later, wearing a scowl. Apparently Ian had declined Caleb’s help and sent him back in. Was Ian part of the Cupid Posse, too? No, he couldn’t be. Ian knew her so well—he had to know that a die-hard military guy like Caleb was completely wrong for her.
Kate bumped Caleb’s shoulder, trying not to be distracted by hard, meticulously sculpted muscles straining taut sleeves. “You okay, soldier? I noticed that raccoon memory sort of threw ya.”
His ears reddened. “You have no idea.” He leaned in, so he could speak out of his sister’s earshot. “I can’t afford to be homesick. I have to stay focused to make ranger school.”
“I heard it’s grueling.” Kate veered them over to help Tia, who was about to overfeed a vivid blue fan-tailed Betta fish.
Caleb knelt, peering into the star-shaped bowl. Tia met his gaze over the rim. “Her name is Jonah. She might look small but she can bite your head off in a second if she wants.”
Caleb grinned. “Is that right?”
“Yes. She lives in Nineveh.” Tia indicated the tank and its décor.
“She, huh? Well, Miss Jonah sounds pretty tough, but she’s also mighty pretty. In fact, especially with those colors of hers, she reminds me of—” Caleb clamped his mouth shut. Paled. Cast cursory glances at Kate. “N-never mind.”
Moments later, Bri emerged from her room, all dressed up. In the rush of hugs and goodbyes as she and Ian headed out for their date, Kate didn’t get the chance to ask Caleb why he’d cut himself off like that. But the thought of it still bugged her.
What had he really been about to say? Something not kid-appropriate? That didn’t seem like him.
So why was he avoiding her eyes, and what had he done to make him look so guilty?
Chapter Five
Kate. He’d almost said that Miss Jonah reminded him of Kate.
And that would have been fine, if he’d left the similarities at them both being pretty and tough. But no, he’d mentioned the colors.
Miss Jonah’s sapphire-and-silver markings reminded him of something he wasn’t supposed to have seen—moonlight reflecting off the elaborate, shimmery Mardi Gras–style gown Kate wore that night on the patio. Jonah’s sleek shape and willowy blue-black fins resembled the feathers fanning Kate’s fancy mask, the one he’d removed to wipe away her tears.
He’d almost voiced the comparison.
He needed to be more careful. Period.
Caleb knelt on a rug woven with zigzag forest creatures next to Tia, who was raptly driving her doll around in a toy boat. Thunder rumbled outside, and the next thing Caleb knew, a frightened Mistletoe dived straight into Caleb’s lap.
Caleb nuzzled the dog when the pup trembled. “It’s all right, buddy. I won’t let that storm get ya.”
“Caleb,” Kate called from the kitchen where she was pulling together some dinner for them. She nodded toward Tia who peered up at him with a fearful yet longing expression.
He opened his arms. She scrambled into his lap next to the dog. She trembled just as badly. Caleb wasn’t prepared for the powerful emotions sweeping him when Tia snuggled against him and said in a small voice, “Uncle C, I’m scared.”
“I’m right here. Kate and I will make sure you’re safe.”
“But what if there’s a tornado?” Tia whimpered.
“We have a basement at the trauma center.”
“But not here?” She clutched the edges of her pink tutu. Her fearful tone made him hold her tighter. Protectiveness he’d never known roared up and made him want to fight a tornado with his bare fists if he had to, to protect her. He tucked her closer, resting his chin atop her head. She relaxed against him. No better feeling in the world than knowing he’d graduated in her heart to being Uncle C.
How much more awesome would it be to have a child call him Daddy? Caleb quickly rejected the temptation to daydream about it. It would happen someday, but he had other goals that needed to come first. He shored up his mental ranger training plan. Royally spoiling a niece would have to suffice for a few years.
Kate joined them on the rug with a bowl of fruit salad. “We’ll keep a close eye on the weather, okay?”
Tia nodded and nestled closer to Caleb when thunder rolled again. This time, though, held securely in his arms, she didn’t flinch. It amazed Caleb how trusting Tia was of him. He knew from Bri trust didn’t come easy to Tia since her mother abandoned her. He thought of Levi and Asher and all they must be going through. Everyone knew deployment’s collateral damage on relationships. He understood Kate’s reluctance to date anyone involved in the military, since becoming a civilian.
The dog sniffed the bowl. Kate lifted the food from his reach. “If you wanna wash up, I’ll put Mistletoe in his crate for a nap and we can have some of this.” She indicated her salad.
Seeing it, he realized why it had taken so long to make. It looked elaborate, like something out of a world-class cooking magazine. He studied Kate’s pretty face, pleased they shared a love for creative cooking and baking. Because...because friends should have things in common. And that was exactly what they were.
Once reseated and enjoying the fruit salad Kate distributed, Caleb turned up the TV, set to the local news. The weatherman was on the screen, pointing out red areas on the map. After a while, Kate met his gaze and the most brilliant smile graced her face as her eyes fell on Tia, resting on his chest. Caleb looked down, surprised to see her soundly sleeping.
“What should I do?” He felt out of sorts, kidwise.
“Just hold her. She obviously feels safe with you. Sometimes, girls just need to be held.”
Like that night on the patio?
The inclement weather had mostly calmed, but a last, rumbling bit of thunder made Tia frown in her sleep. Kate brushed Tia’s forehead and hummed. The maternal gesture turned Caleb into a puddle. To lessen the intimacy of the moment, he whispered, “You’re a terrible singer,” in low tones. Kate smiled and kept on singing. He liked that about her.
Though she really was a bad singer, he found himself drawn to the words. “Who sings that for real? Like, professionally?”
“Thankfully, not me.” She snickered. “Mixed artists. It’s contemporary worship.” The news switched to a commercial, showing happy dolphins frolicking in blue-green waves. Kate chuckled at the sight. “So apparently Mitch was attacked by a dolphin.”
The mental image made Caleb burst out laughing. Tia’s head wobbled up. “I’m sorry, sweetness,” he whispered to Tia.
Kate’s eyebrows flew
up.
It took every ounce of self-control he had not to react. Why had he said “sweetness”? Ugh! He was very bad at this double-life, incognito stuff. Maybe he wouldn’t make a good ranger after all. But he wasn’t bad at it when he was BB, just as himself.
Besides, he needed to do the one thing Dad tried but failed at: becoming an army ranger. How many times before leaving had Dad scoffed that Caleb would never amount to anything? Becoming a ranger was Caleb’s only way to disprove the words that had sabotaged his confidence and surety growing up.
Caleb’s lack of reaction must have pacified Kate, because she visibly relaxed. “Is ‘sweetness’ a term of endearment used by all the natives here or something?” She pulled a puzzle box out of the side table.
He laughed. “Yeah, by aborigine yard gnomes crouching in the forest, air-traffic controlling all the flying squirrels Tia says hide in the woods.” Bri had told Caleb Tia dragged yard ornaments to the forest edge, creating a make-believe land there.
Kate smirked and smacked his arm. “I’m just curious, since you grew up here, if many people from here say it.”
“Pretty much. This is part of the South, and our preference for sweetness has to do with the sugary tea I think.” Let her think he was dense.
She cleared her throat. “I have a—friend—who I’ve heard say that. I’m not sure he lives around here, is all. I’d like to find him. Reconnect.”
That could be a problem. “Have you looked for his contact info online?” Caleb offered.
“That’s a great suggestion other than I don’t know his real—” Kate stopped and scowled. Caleb knew her bristle meant she felt she’d shared too much. “Anyway, it’s no big deal.” She stood quickly, clearly looking for an escape, and took the chance to turn off the TV and put in a CD, instead. By the time she came back to sit again, her face was calm once more.
They settled into a comfortable kind of quiet and Caleb let the music drift over him. “I like that.” He slipped the Seventh Day Slumber CD cover from the holder and viewed words to the song, “From the Inside Out.” This must be the worship music she’d mentioned earlier. Caleb felt himself softening inside.
“Worship heals us.” Kate seemed to sense it touching him. “Especially when we respond to it and sing it back to God.”
“I hope you listen to it often, then, and that it helps you.”
She winced, then scowled. “I’m perfectly fine.”
“Sure you are. And my Twizzlers are armed and dangerous.”
That didn’t go over well, proving once more she was not about to open up to him as Caleb. Not yet. He let it go.
Since Tia’s breathing pattern changed, Caleb carried her to the love seat and Kate covered her with a blanket. They returned to the coffee table and started picking out the puzzle’s corner and edge pieces. “I love Ron DiCianni paintings,” she mused.
He eyed the box then Kate. “Mom did, too. This was hers.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Caleb. And for Bri’s.”
“Thanks for being here for her. It helped. I’ll never regret my service, but I wish I could have found a way to be there for Bri, too.”
She nodded. “May I ask why you want to be a ranger?”
He froze. Caleb wasn’t at all sure he was ready to talk to Kate about the reasons he wanted—needed—to become a ranger. About his struggles with feelings of worthlessness, his ache to prove himself, his fears that he’d never be good enough.
Maybe it wasn’t just Kate who didn’t want to open up.
* * *
“You can ask.”
Wow. He wasn’t budging an inch on this one.
“Okay, why do you want to be a ranger?”
“Because I can.”
She resisted asking if he’d thought it through. Instead, she prayed that his reasons for pursuing a lifelong military career would be sound, and worth all the worry it would put his family through. Kate could scarcely bear the thought of having to help Bri bury her only brother.
If she were to be honest, life for her would already not be the same without Caleb. And she’d only really known him and his quiet strength for a few weeks. How much more loss would Bri feel as his sibling, should the unthinkable happen?
Tia stirred. Kate thought back to the moment when she’d realized that the little girl had fallen asleep in Caleb’s arms. She discovered, with growing annoyance, she had to work entirely too hard to stop remembering how handsome Caleb had looked holding the child protectively close. Well, he was handsome.
It was just...his holding Tia and comforting the dog in this cozy little amber cabin put him in a warm domestic light. It appealed to Kate in ways that set inner warning flares. It was the situation that drew her, surely, and not the man, right?
She needed to force herself to continue to view him as a friend, perhaps even as a brother by proxy, but never as a romantic prospect. A text bleeped, distracting her from her thoughts.
A loud thunder crash jolted Tia. Startled, she fell off the couch and started crying. Kate could also hear Mistletoe whine from his crate. Kate got the dog.
Caleb gathered Tia. “It’s okay, sw—hon.”
Resting against him, she rubbed her eyes, dually determined to conk back out and wake herself up. Sleep lost the war. Tia’s eyes brightened as she peered adoringly at him. “I’m not a swan, silly. I’m princess of the frilly dolls. Sit.” She scrambled down and dragged boxes from the shelf. Kate melted, observing this.
“Oh. Pardon me.” Caleb humored Tia, who directed him to an easier, kid-friendly puzzle.
Kate retreated to the kitchen to read her text. Today’s medical update from Mom mentioned not one word about Dad. Nor did it address Kate’s suggestion of counseling. The text simply, and sadly, stated Grandpa hadn’t responded to changes in medication, but Kate didn’t need to come. Yet.
Stress clenched Kate’s shoulders when she thought of all the trauma-center work she had to accomplish soon. She’d fall seriously behind if she left town to visit Grandpa. Yet she didn’t want to regret not going if Grandpa didn’t pull through. She had one job and one grandpa, and she could replace her job. Except she’d moved here to help found the trauma center with Mitch and Ian after being deployed with them. EPTC was the result of battlefield dreams. She couldn’t bail on them now. Not unless Grandpa’s situation grew truly dire. Kate felt torn and troubled.
She eyed the window, knowing it was foolhardy to wish a certain bandit were here to talk to. She shifted gears to study Caleb’s profile, suspecting he’d be a willing listener.
Yes, but he might share her struggles with Bri, which would ruin Bri’s elation and courtship. Bri needed to enjoy an easy season. Her last was cold, dark, brutal. Caleb’s, too, with having lost their mom. No, she couldn’t confide in Caleb. Kate glanced at the barren night. No bandit. She was on her own.
She started the dishes and protested when Caleb tried to help. “Enjoy your niece,” she said. It wasn’t just about wanting to take care of things herself. She also needed more space and time to clear her thoughts than sharing the kitchen with him and his broad chest would allow. She was just having a tough time tonight. That’s all. Tomorrow would, hopefully, be better. But it was hard work convincing herself of that.
Especially since the heartening effects of a silly monkey card and it’s “Hang in there” message had long worn off.
Maybe she could communicate back with the bandit? Leave notes of her own? While he’d been leaving things in different places, changing it up, probably to keep from getting caught, she did long for one more real conversation with him. Another chance to unload her woes without fear of letting people down. It might be silly, but BB felt like a lifeline right now.
Kate couldn’t talk to Bri, or to Caleb because of Bri—and because of their other circumstances. Ian and Mitch’s assignment of his traini
ng under her supervision sealed her inability to show weakness around him. That he was now her charge and coworker meant she had to stay strong in his eyes.
Never let them see you sweat.
Her war-decorated dad and staunch, tenacious nursing-instructor mother, a stickler for perfection, had taught her as much. Yet, as Kate pondered their precarious lives now, for the first time since growing up, she began to question all she had known and become because of their adroit gifts and guidance.
Or misguidance?
Was it not actually a good thing to be ultra-capable in the eyes of others and unable to show weakness?
Unwilling to mentally dishonor her parents or their loving efforts, Kate shook the questions off for now and returned to the living room to an adorable scene. Tia and Caleb huddled like close buddies over a colorful, near-complete puzzle.
“Miss Kate? Let’s have a tea party,” Tia announced.
Caleb chuckled and slouched. “You two have fun with that.”
Tia scowled and propped tiny fists on her hips. She marched up and planted herself in front of him.
He looked up with slowly arching brows. “May I help you?”
“Yes. You most uncertainty may.”
To Caleb’s credit, he bit his lip to stop himself from correcting Tia’s word usage. He did grin, though, and it shouldn’t nearly be as delicious to Kate. Tia was known for using mile-long words, but often the complete wrong word for the context.
“I want. To have. A tea party,” Tia said firmly and tugged Caleb toward the coffee table. “And you. Will be. A princess.”
Kate’s mouth twitched as Caleb slogged, doomed and wide-eyed, but without protest, to the table. He looked unable to say no to Tia in all her convincing cuteness and glory. The guy deserved the Uncle of the Year award. Mistletoe slinked under the table. His mouth fell into a pant that made him appear to be laughing at Caleb’s uncomfortable but funny predicament.
“Sure, leave me behind and go hide,” Caleb teased the pup.
