by Cheryl Wyatt
Foolish! Your bandit is nowhere around.
Kate dug her fingers into the wood and let it scrape her hands like the pain inside scraped at her heart. Tears welled again. This time, they fell silently.
A hand covered her shoulder. She shrieked and whirled.
“Caleb! You scared me to death.” Ugh! “You’re lucky I didn’t attack you.” She dashed away tears and scrambled for an excuse to explain them away. How had she not heard him approach?
“I’ve been here awhile, Kate. Besides, Bri told me about the text and I came back.”
“Pity.”
“I don’t pity you.”
“That’s not what I meant. I meant it’s a pity you had to leave a workout to find me for no reason. I’m fine. I don’t need anyone doting over me or expending worry when it’s completely unnecessary.”
His jaw hardened. “You’re more stubborn than I realized.”
“Yeah? Well, you and all this unwelcome concern are maddening. Go, Caleb. Spend time with your sister while you can. She misses you.” Kate started off.
“Kate, wait.” He put his hand on her shoulder again, and it reminded her of her bandit that night on the patio.
“Caleb Frustration Landis, you’re making me lose my temper. Let go of me, now.” She jerked away, because if she didn’t, she’d cave to the compassion in his eyes. Reminded her so much of— No. Stop thinking about him. You can’t take the bandit so seriously.
BB was nothing more than a distraction. While his notes were nice, they were just a Band-Aid. Her life and her family could not be fixed. Not by anyone.
“I’m here if you need me.”
“I don’t need anyone.”
“Incorrect. You might not want to need us, but you do.”
His statement cut through her like a scalpel, simply because it was true. And that was the part she hated most of all.
“Go home, Landis. That’s an order.”
“We’re not at work, Kate. You can’t boss me around.”
“Watch me.”
A muscle clicked in his jaw. “Don’t shut me out.”
“If you won’t leave, I will.” She pushed past him.
His arm sprang out to stop her. When she tried to go around it, he pulled her in, wrapping his arm around her. Her back rested snugly against his chest and his chin braced the top of her head. “Kate, listen a minute. I can—”
“No, you can’t. You can’t do anything to help me. You can’t fix it. Now let me go!”
With equal reluctance and frustration, he did. She stared him down. “Don’t ever do that again.”
His nostrils flared and he marched off, leaving her confused and upset. She had wanted him to leave her alone, so why did she ache to rush back into his arms and stay there forever? Or at least until she could suture her emotions back together?
She didn’t need this, this growing dependency on people.
Especially not him. He’d be leaving sooner than she wanted to think about. Kate stared at the cornfield edges and just started running. She ran until her legs wanted to fall off. She ran until she could no longer feel her feet or the blisters there. She ran until she had no more tears to cry.
Grandpa was in a coma. And she hadn’t gone to see him in time. She’d lost her chance to say goodbye. She couldn’t tell Caleb, or anyone. If she talked, she’d break down. From that point onward, even if she got stronger again later, the people around her would always look back and remember her cracking under pressure.
She couldn’t.
She could not be that person in other people’s eyes. She had to be strong. Hadn’t Grandpa always told her so? To pick herself up by the bootstraps and face life head-on, headstrong?
“Grandpa, I’m trying. I really am. I’ve failed you in so many ways.” Tears tried to force their way out again. Kate choked them back, though no one would see now except scarecrows. She half wished one of them would step out and morph into a bandit.
Stop. Not even he can fix this.
By the time she joined the rest of the party, she’d calmed enough to say faux upbeat goodbyes to Bri and the crew. She thanked Lem for his hospitality and marched toward her Jeep, aware of gunmetal eyes boring into her back. She didn’t have to look to know who it was. Her Academy Award–caliber exit might have fooled everyone else, but Caleb had seen her rabbit-hutch tears and knew better.
She fought anger at herself for letting her guard down in public. She’d have to rectify that. Show him at work and elsewhere how strong she really was. Not some crybaby who talked to scarecrows and clung to rabbit cages and sobbed her soul out beneath the stars.
When she reached her car, her heart leaped at the sight of a slip of paper tucked against the windshield. Was it...could it be...had her bandit come through for her just when she needed him the most?
Scolding herself for her trembling hands, she pulled out the paper and unfolded it.
Meet me tonight at midnight, on the seventh lake dock. Hold on, sweetness. We’ll get you through this.
BB
* * *
That night, Caleb donned the bandit costume with mixed emotions. He knew Kate needed this—needed someone she could talk to without worrying about being strong. He’d tried to be that person for her earlier, but she wouldn’t let him. She’d let the bandit, though...so that was who he needed to be.
He walked quietly to the dock, making sure to get there thirty minutes early in case Kate got the bright idea to show early and see from where he came. He’d chosen the seventh lake dock deliberately. He knew that it had a pillar he could hide behind and still talk to her. It was also the darkest dock on the lake at night.
Kate arrived exactly at midnight. Caleb stepped out from the shadows, but not too far.
She stopped. Gasped. “You really came.” She drew a slow breath. “I—I’m actually a little surprised you’re here. I’m glad, though. How...how did you know I needed you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Caleb said, his voice a soft whisper to make it harder to identify. “All that matters is that you needed me, and I’m here. Tell me what’s wrong.”
He could see her struggling with what she was willing to say. It made him ache to pull her into his arms and hold her until she felt confident and sure of herself again. But no, he’d have to let her take this at her own pace.
“My grandpa...did I tell you about my grandpa last time?”
Caleb shook his head. “How about you tell me now?” He kept his voice carefully low and disguised.
“Grandpa is...” Kate’s smile was so sad. “Grandpa’s amazing. Tough as nails. Career military. One of the best commanders I’ve ever seen. But such a good family man, too. When he retired, he was always there for me and my parents. Dad was deployed a lot, and Mom would teach nursing during the day and then practice nursing at night. Grandma and Grandpa were the ones I could count on to always be there for me. To tuck me into bed at night, and read me a story, and help me fall back to sleep when I had a bad dream.” She turned to face him and he saw the tears streaming down her face, shining in the moonlight.
This time, he didn’t hold himself back. He moved forward and drew her into his embrace. She went willingly. He was so glad he could hold her through this—and yet he had to bite his tongue to keep from scolding her. Why would she only let a stranger hold her like this? If she could accept this comfort from the bandit, then why couldn’t she accept it from Caleb?
Great, now I’m thinking of myself in third person. I’m losing it.
“He’s been sick for a while now,” Kate continued. “But recently, it’s gotten worse. Mom’s there to take care of him. She said I didn’t need to come out, not yet. So I didn’t. I told myself it was because I had responsibilities here, and because Mom had everything taken care of. But I think...”
And
here it came, Caleb could tell. Here was the part where she’d tell the bandit something she’d never tell anyone else. Why does she trust him—I mean me—I mean the bandit this much, anyway?
“I think I just wanted to avoid it all. Avoid seeing Grandpa so sick. Avoid seeing my parents when their marriage is falling apart. Maybe I thought that if I didn’t have to watch, if I kept my distance, then I could get used to Grandpa not being in my life and my parents not being in love.”
Caleb’s hold on her tightened. With a tact he could never quite manage when he was in his own persona, he just knew that this wasn’t a time to try to come up with words of comfort or consolation. He didn’t even try to wipe her tears away. He just held her and let her cry. After she’d cried herself out, he was rewarded with a tremulous smile.
“Thanks,” she said shakily. “That was just what I needed.”
Now he wiped away the tears, not with a handkerchief but with his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. “Life is not for the faint of heart, sweetness,” he whispered. “It’ll hurt you in so many ways.”
“I can take it. I just need to learn to be stronger. Tougher.” Even as she said the words, her shoulders went back and her spine straightened. She was doing it again—trying to be brave Kate, reliable Kate, always-in-control Kate rather than just letting herself be.
“Would you really want that?” he asked as gently as he could. “If you could turn off your emotions and not be bothered by sadness or loss, would you do it? You wouldn’t hurt anymore, but you’d miss out on feeling the love and the hope, too.”
He half expected her to get angry with him, but instead she just nodded and looked thoughtful.
“You’re right,” she said at last, so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t seem to notice the way he nearly staggered at her words. She admitted that he was right? That would never happen if he were outside of his bandit persona. Was it wrong to feel jealous of yourself?
“I’ve been forgetting to hold on to hope. In fact, I’ve been grieving for my grandfather’s life and my parents’ marriage when neither one is over yet.”
This time, her smile was so dazzling that it froze him in place. He was barely even aware of her leaning forward and brushing her lips—gently, softly, sweetly—against his. By the time he came back to himself, the kiss was over.
“Thank you,” she said. “Truly. You can’t imagine how much you’ve done for me these past few weeks.”
And you can’t imagine how much you mean to me, Caleb thought to himself. Even though he knew a relationship between them could never be possible, Kate had come to be so incredibly important to him. If this ridiculous charade with the costume was what it took to help her hold herself together, then that was what he’d do. No matter how badly it stung that she’d lean on the bandit but not on Caleb, as himself.
“So what will you do now?” he asked.
“Go visit my grandpa as soon as I can get away.”
Caleb nodded. “Good idea. And maybe you could take someone with you, to help you deal with everything, so you don’t have to take care of it all alone.” Maybe someone a little over six feet tall with dark hair and gray eyes, answering to the name Caleb...
But Kate was already shaking her head. “No, I don’t think so. I can handle it. Thanks to you.”
She left then, and Caleb tried to take comfort in the way her step seemed lighter, less weary. He’d helped. But had it been enough? Could it ever be enough? Could some anonymous stranger in a mask ever truly be there for Kate in the way she needed?
No. But Caleb could. And he promised himself right then and there that he would. Whether Kate liked it or not.
* * *
“Pink?”
Kate squared her feet but smiled at Caleb. “Pink camouflage.”
A pink camouflage tape measure. It shouldn’t fit, but somehow it did. It was perfectly Kate.
She was in her element the next day as they knelt over saws, paint and plywood at Eagle Point Church’s basement, building props for Lem’s storybook ball.
He chuckled and slid a piece of plywood in front of his knees, intending to hand-draw a king’s scepter on it, then cut it out.
She scooted it her way and chalked a queen’s throne scroll instead.
“I see how this is gonna go.”
“What?” She blinked those long lashes far too innocently.
“Yeah. You’re not gettin’ my power tools.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Yet she practically drooled over the Dremel tool assortment rattling as he opened its box.
“Right.” He laughed and arranged his tools in an arc.
She rearranged them, in Kate OCD fashion. “What’s the plan?”
“I’m spontaneous. I don’t need a plan. Furthermore, you don’t like to take orders, and I’m a born leader. So go work over there.” He pointed to the far corner of the room.
“No, actually. This way, my way, is more interesting.”
He laughed, unable to be aggravated. “Your way could lead to bloodshed.” He scooted four feet away from Kate, grabbed a fresh piece of plywood and placed a castle turret pattern on it.
The previous night, pushing his way into her life and her problems had seemed like such a good idea. But in the clear light of day, he’d started to question himself. Did he have any right to get involved in her personal life when he wasn’t planning to stay? Would that be fair to her? Would it be fair to him? He had his own goals, his own dreams. He should be focusing on those rather than entrenching himself in someone else’s life.
But his plan to place some more distance between them was dying a rapid death, thanks to Kate’s stubbornness. She’d landed in his personal space like a jet swooping on a target. “Make up your mind, Landis. Are we cutting or drawing?”
“We? I was doing both fine before you got here,” he teased.
“You like to work alone or what?” Her eyes practically went cross-eyed at the notion. Pretty eyes.
He looked away. “Sometimes alone works better for me.”
Wood clattered. “Well, it doesn’t for me.” She abandoned her project to help trace his. Obviously, Kate was used to not only working with a team but being in full charge of that team.
Caleb switched gears to sand rough edges off wood patterns he’d cut hours before she got here.
She unplugged his electric sander and shoved sandpaper pieces at him. “The intricate patterns need to be done by hand.”
Caleb sat back on his haunches. “Have fun with that, then.”
“So that’s what you do? The going gets rough...and you quit?” Yes, he did exactly that. Walked away from God when life got tough. Kate was spot-on. Not that he was ready to admit it yet.
He popped the tab on a soda and used it to hide his expression. “I’m not quitting. I’m resting, while I watch you sand all that by hand.”
“Ha! Like you’re going to get out of helping me. Besides, God Himself says it’s not good for man to be alone.”
He snorted, and Kate frowned. “What’s your hang-up with God anyway, Landis?”
He resisted the urge to go back to arguing about the sanding. He knew Kate wouldn’t let this go though, so he might as well spit it out now. “I asked God to provide for Mom when Dad abandoned us, yet He let her lose the court battle over alimony. When I deployed, I asked him to watch over my family. He took Mom. I asked him to help save our lodge from foreclosure, and it ended up catching fire, causing Bri more stress, time, money and pressure from the bank.”
She sat silent at first then said, “I’m glad God had Mitch, Ian, Lauren and me here to watch over Bri through it all. And I’m sorry your dad left.”
“His choice.”
“His loss.”
“Sorry you’re going through stuff with your parents, Kate.”
&n
bsp; She stiffened as if hit with a small-caliber bullet. “Life goes on.” Rising to her feet, she turned her back to him and occupied herself sanding wood that would be a scepter by Sunday.
When the going got rough...
It struck him as odd that the same renowned hero known for being so brave on battlefields was so steely set on staying safe in a civilian setting. She’d put her life on the line...but not her heart.
Caleb didn’t like the disappointment he felt that she still wasn’t willing to open up to him, especially after the way she’d confided in the bandit the previous night.
Caleb reminded himself of his decision not to get too involved. Getting her to open up to him as she had the bandit would take time he wasn’t sure he’d be allotted. Especially since his C.O. had called this morning to warn him things were heating up.
“Things often get worse before they get better,” he said from the floor where he knelt now, ready to saw the shape of a castle drawbridge out of the wood she’d sanded.
“Kind of like the night is darkest just before the dawn.” A wistfulness in her voice and the stilling of her shoulders as she spoke let him know his words—as the bandit—were giving her the strength she needed to get through.
Caleb fell into his own silence as he fired up the saw and went to work on the wood. Strangely, despite his and Kate’s vastly opposite working methods, they meshed productively.
At one point he raised his face to find Kate standing directly beneath an enormous wall cross. The vibrant symbol hung there like a sentinel watching over them, as if it could see. He felt odd, sitting calmly inside a church when he was still so angry with God.
Yet he equally knew that an incalculable amount of mercy resided there that would keep the walls from caving in on him. If God had this much mercy on Caleb, who was openly crabby and actively avoiding God, how much more profound the mercy would be that He’d lavish on Kate, still running hard after God, despite all the loss she faced.
