Snorting, Kira muttered, “That’s not a hint, Fleming. Feels like a crutch to me.”
“Well, in two seconds we’ll all get to open our gifts and you’ll see.”
Kira could hardly wait to see the look on everyone’s face when they opened the framed sketches she’d drawn for them. Why had she been afraid they wouldn’t like them?
Shay burst into tears when she saw their portrait, her hands over her lips, looking with such love at Reese as he held it out for her to see. And she saw moisture in Noah’s eyes as he looked at himself standing next to his horses. He gave her a watery smile of thanks, holding that framed drawing as if it was life itself. Harper hooted and held up his sketch in its dark green wooden frame.
“Look! It’s me and Jeb! Doing what I hate the most: fence mending!”
Everyone howled.
Most of all, Kira wanted to know what Garret’s reaction would be, but she’d have to wait until they got home to see that.
“Hey,” Garret coaxed, “open up my gift. It’s time now.”
She smiled and put the long pole out in front of her, opening up one end of it. “What is this? A pole to hit you with, Fleming?”
He chuckled. “God, I hope not.”
Everyone laughed heartily.
Her smile slipped as she peeled the paper off and realized it was a monopod. Most camera buffs had a tripod or a three-legged affair on which they’d affix their camera to take a stable shot. A monopod was one-legged and allowed the photographer to put the camera on top of it. Kira gasped as she looked it up and down. It was a good one, made of graphite, lightweight but sturdy.
“Like it?” Garret asked, holding her gaze.
“It’s perfect!” she said, suddenly emotional, running her fingers down the sleek black surface.
“This way,” he said, his smile slipping, becoming serious, “you’ll be able to balance the camera with the three fingers of your left hand. No more camera almost slipping out of your hands.”
She sniffed and wiped her eyes, self-conscious. “I knew this is what I needed, but the Canon PowerShot won’t fit on this.”
“I know. It’s for a Canon D7,” he said.
“Well,” she said, giving him a grateful look, “I’ll put this in my bedroom in the corner, where I can see it every morning. And it will inspire me to keep saving money for another D7.” She saw Garret’s eyes twinkle, but he only nodded, saying nothing more.
“It’s a step in the right direction for you, Kira.”
She wanted to lean over and kiss him, but she wasn’t ready for everyone to know how she felt about him. “Thank you,” she whispered, gripping his hand and squeezing it hard. “You’re helping me to make a dream come true . . .”
Chapter Twenty-One
Kira could hardly sit still while Garret slowly and carefully unwrapped her gift to him. They had walked back in the snowstorm to their home after everyone broke up after dessert, Garret’s ginger cake with lemon sauce.
She sat on the edge of their couch, their knees touching, watching him and wanting him to hurry opening it. Would he like it or not? She held her breath for a moment as the paper came off and he turned it over, frowning. And then she saw his face grow soft, emotion in his eyes as he studied it for a long time. Silence cloaked them and then he lifted his chin, holding her gaze.
“This,” he rasped, “is incredible, Kira. Thank you,” and he stared down at it.
“Do you like it? I was afraid . . . well, afraid that it would bring back too many bad memories for you, Garret.” She had painstakingly rendered the entire Special Forces A team standing together with them in the sketch as well. They were all smiling, their arms around one another in a semicircle, staring outward at the viewer. They were dressed in their normal Afghan cammos and floppy hats, the weapons they wore every day, a pistol on their hip or in a drop holster on their thigh. Some of the men carried knives on them as well, plus a cartridge web belt.
“Damn,” he whispered, choking up, “you are good, Kira. Every one of the guys look like they really did.” He moved his hand across the glass, as if to reach out and touch each one of them again, his frown deepening.
Her throat tightened. “I’d taken a photo of us that third year. I don’t know if you remember. I’d shown Ahmad how to hold the camera and snap it. I tried to resurrect the photo from memory.”
She saw so many feelings, raw and alive, come to his eyes as he stared silently down at it, his hand moving almost in a caress across the large drawing. It was two feet wide and two feet long. She’d taken some of her translation savings and gone into town to a good frame shop and bought one for each of her sketches for the vets’ Christmas gifts. The frame she’d chosen for this one was dark green, a reminder that they’d been in the Army.
“This,” Garret rumbled, his hand stilling over the sketch, “is priceless, Kira. Thank you.”
She felt tears burn in her eyes and hastily brushed them away. “You really like it, then? It’s not a painful reminder that we lost them? I was so hoping you’d see it as a celebration of our lives together . . . something we all experienced, that we had such great times together, too. Laughter . . . jokes . . . you know . . .”
Garret’s mouth softened. “Yeah,” he said roughly, sliding his fingers across the thin wooden frame, “we had a lot of good times, too. And this reminds me of that, our better days. Happy times . . .”
Pressing her hand to her heart, Kira closed her eyes and whispered, “Thank God. I was so hoping you’d take it in the spirit I sketched it.” Opening her eyes, Kira saw the sadness in his gaze, knowing this sketch would bring back everything to him. But maybe, just maybe, it would also remind Garret of the joy they’d shared together as a group of people who wanted only to help the struggling Afghan people.
Maybe the good times could gently assuage the grief she knew Garret still had locked inside himself. Help to bleed it off a little at a time instead of him being afraid it would overwhelm him if he allowed any of those feelings out of that box he kept buried deep within himself. Kira knew it was taking a risk, but she also knew Garret couldn’t keep on living without dealing with those emotions sooner or later either. She hoped the sketch would be a relief valve, a slow way of healing him as he looked at it from time to time.
Garret set the picture on the coffee table and brought her into his arms. “Sometimes,” he said, his voice low and thick against her hair, “I think you’re more magic than real, Kira.”
She snuggled into his arms, feeling happiness thread through her as her cheek rested against his shoulder, her arm went around his torso. “Oh no,” she laughed softly, “I’m very real and wounded. You know that. I’m just glad you like the drawing, Garret. I didn’t do it to depress you.”
He closed his eyes, resting his jaw against her hair. “You must have spent a lot of time making it. That’s a hell of a lot of work and you put so much detail into it.”
“It was,” she admitted, rubbing her cheek against him. “I had to use the other sketches from my journal to get each guy’s face exactly right. I didn’t want to get it wrong. I want to always remember them, Garret. They’re a part of us forever.”
He pressed a kiss to her cheek, sliding his fingers through her loose hair, nudging the strands across her shoulder. “It’s a very healing gift for me. You knew that, though.”
“Guilty,” she whispered, lifting away from him, meeting his dark, burning gaze. “I know you haven’t grieved yet, Garret. I was hoping the picture would open up that process a little, in small amounts, over time. I wanted the guys all smiling. Because we loved them and they loved us. They deserve not only our missing them but also to remember the good things about all of them, the laughter; the fun times, too.” She reached up, cupping his recently shaven cheek, a finger resting against his flesh. “You have to let that grief out and start working through it all. We both know that. And I felt this was an easier way of opening up that dark place within you. Maybe a gentler way of starting the process?”
Hope rose in her chest. “No, I think that’s a wonderful place. Then I can see it, too. When I was drawing it, I remembered so many things about the guys; their wives, girlfriends . . . their children . . . and it made me feel happy because they were smiling. It made me feel good, not sad. Maybe, over time, it will do the same for you, too.”
He sighed and nodded. “It’s not going to be easy,” he warned her. “I’m scared of letting any of it loose within me.”
She pulled her hand from his, running her fingers down his arm. “Garret, I’m here. I want to be a support for you. Let me?” She searched his agonized gaze. The words I love you nearly tore from her lips as she silently willed him to say yes to her offer. There was such a war going on inside Garret that she could almost feel it. For a moment she saw his eyes grow moist, and then that disappeared. His grief was on the surface; she had known that since meeting him here at the ranch. Giving him a playful shake, she smiled and said, “We can do this—together. Like we’ve done everything else. Okay?” She patted his shoulder. “I might be small, but I’m mighty, Garret. On hours or days when the grief brings you to your knees, you can cry on my shoulder if you want. I’ll just hold you. I won’t let you go.”
He shook his head, the corners of his mouth flexing inward with pain. “You’re so damned fearless when it comes to anything having to do with emotions, Kira.” He caressed her cheek. “You always were. It scares the hell out of me. But you throw yourself into them, work through them and come out on the other side okay.”
She leaned up, placing a swift kiss on his mouth. “Trust me, Fleming, you can do this. God gave you a heart, too. He gave you a rich palette of emotions and bright, beautiful feelings. If I can do it, so can you. Society taught men they shouldn’t cry or feel, but they should. I’m here. I’ll walk you through it. You can talk to me about anything. I won’t let you down. I have your back.” She saw a glitter in his eyes, knowing it was tears threatening to fall. How Kira wished he would cry. It would help get the process started, but these darned A team guys pretended they were impervious to the normal slings and arrows life threw at them. It wasn’t so, and Kira knew it. She eased out of his arms, not wanting to allow the happiness of the night to completely dissolve.
“Can I open my gift now?” she asked, pointing toward it. Instantly, she felt a shift in Garret, a rakish grin coming onto his lips. There would be other times, she knew, when she would go the distance emotionally with Garret’s grief. The next two days, however, she wanted only good things to happen between them: laughter and smiles.
She would gently steer him in a direction of lightness, not darkness. They’d seen enough darkness already. She craved the happiness she knew they could have with each other.
Unwinding, Garret said, “Stay put. I’ll get it for you.”
She laughed. “What? You don’t trust me with it?”
He smiled a little and leaned down, picking it up. “I trust you with my life,” he said and he gave her a meaningful look that quickly made her smile disappear. Damn, he didn’t want her to go in that direction. Kira had saved his life already. And in so many ways, Garret silently acknowledged, since she’d stepped back into his life, he was better off for it. As he had been in Afghanistan. Every day with Kira under his roof in that village had been a secret pleasure known only to him. He’d savored their quiet hours with each other as he was doing right now. Handing her the gift, he made sure it was safe in her outstretched hands.
Sitting next to her, he leaned back, watching the delight on her face as she tore, like a child, into the paper. Garret could hardly wait until she saw what it was. How would she react?
Kira gasped and snapped a look up at him. “No! This isn’t what it says, is it, Garret?” and her eyes were huge with shock.
“Open it,” he said quietly, gesturing toward the box.
“Oh my God,” she whispered unsteadily. “Is it really? Is it, Garret?” and she ran her trembling hands over the box. A picture and the printed name of the Canon D7 camera was on the top and bottom of it.
Garret couldn’t help but smile. “Find out, huh? Open it. It’s not going to bite you, Kira.” She looked stricken as she opened it and took off the top of the snug wrapping. Kira gave a little cry, her hand flying to her lips, her eyes wide with joy. Garret wanted to crush her in his arms in that instant, but he stopped himself. The look on her face was priceless and he burned it into his heart forever.
With a sob, Kira gently pried the D7 out of the box, holding it as if it were very fragile and might suddenly disappear.
“Oh, Garret. How? How did you do this?” and she turned, lifting the camera in his direction. “This costs sixteen hundred dollars. You don’t have that kind of money. None of us do.”
He gave a lazy shrug. “Is it what you wanted?” He swallowed against the lump forming as tears streamed down her face. Kira gave a jerky nod, her fingers caressing the camera, touching it here and there, as if making sure it was real, not a figment of her imagination. “Dreams do come true,” he told her huskily, holding her watery gaze. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
Sniffing, she shakily wiped the tears from one cheek, gripping the camera with her good hand. “Garret . . . oh, you shouldn’t have done this. It’s so expensive.”
“You’re worth it, Kira. You have no idea how good it makes me feel to see that look in your eyes right now.” Because she was incredibly happy, her gray eyes were like soft, glinting diamonds. Her lower lip trembled as she stared down at the D7 in her lap, her hands gently stroking it, as if the camera were a much-loved child. For a split second Garret thought hotly of Kira pregnant. With his baby. She would make one hell of a loving mother and he knew it. If only . . .
Sniffing, Kira managed a choked laugh and carefully set the camera on the coffee table. Scooting over to him, she threw her arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly, burying her face against him. “T-thank you, Garret . . . but it’s too expensive.” She released him and sat there, staring at him. “How did you do this? How?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he told her, reaching out, brushing the tears off one cheek with his fingers. “What matters is you’re worth it and this camera is going to help you get better, Kira. That’s all I care about. Okay?” He saw her trying to figure it out. She was damned smart and Garret hoped she wouldn’t put it together.
“No!” she breathed suddenly, gripping his wrist. “Oh, Garret, you didn’t! Tell me you didn’t sell your Rolex to get the money for this camera.”
Busted. He eased her fingers from around his thick wrist, pulling it to his lips, kissing the back of it. “It’s just a watch, Kira.” He saw fresh tears roll down her face and she sat there, shaking her head, her eyes filled with pain.
“No . . . no, that’s not true. You loved that watch, Garret! You bought it when you graduated from Special Forces school. I know how much it meant to you.” She made an unhappy sound, shaking her head. “You shouldn’t have done this!”
“I wanted to,” he said patiently, holding her hand, moving his fingers slowly up and down her arm. “And it’s okay, Kira. It’s just a watch. Nothing more.”
“No!” she cried, pulling her hand out of his. “That Rolex meant the world to you. It was something you treasured.”
His heart squeezed in his chest as he saw upset in her eyes. “Listen to me,” he said quietly. Framing her face with his hands, he held her tearful gaze. “You are a treasure to me, Kira. Do you understand that? Money can’t buy you. What you give me is worth far more than any money or any watch. I wanted to make you happy. I didn’t realize just how much photography meant to you until just recently. I’ve seen it lift you up, help you. Don
’t you think I want only the best for you? If I had to sell a measly watch for that camera, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. You’re my world, Kira. Not that watch. It’s nothing compared to you. I want you to take that camera and start using it. Please?” He saw anguish in her eyes, her face glistening with tears. It hurt him to see her cry.
And then, Garret thought to hell with it and leaned down, gently curving his mouth across her lips, tasting their wetness, the salt of her tears. A moan rose in Kira as he deepened the kiss, wanting her to share in the joy of the moment, not remember him selling his Rolex. Her mouth was incredibly soft, opening, blossoming beneath his and his entire body went wildly hot and hungry. He cautioned himself because right now Kira had been overwhelmed emotionally by receiving something she’d thought she’d never have again: her camera.
Gentling his mouth against her lips, he sipped from her, tasting her, kissing each corner of her mouth and then reluctantly easing away. Garret opened his eyes, drowning in the glinting silver deep in her gray gaze, telling him she enjoyed this kiss as much as he did. “You,” he whispered roughly, “are a treasure. My gift, Kira. You always have been. You always will be.” He couldn’t keep his secret any longer and it felt so damn good to release it, to let her know. No matter how she took his raw confession, Garret was glad he’d finally spoken the words. He wanted to tell her he loved her, but that would have probably shocked her even more than she already was.
He watched her thick, black lashes drop against her flushed cheeks, a fine tremble moving through her. She opened her eyes and gripped his upper arms, staring up into his eyes.
“H-how long?” she whispered brokenly. “How long, Garret?”
Confused, he frowned. “How long?” He saw her eyes grow as confused as he felt. Garret didn’t know what she was talking about. Kira licked her lower lip and he saw her struggling to think beyond the hazy lust created by their kiss. He wasn’t thinking too clearly either. Concerned, he rasped, “I don’t understand your question, Kira.”
Wind River Cowboy Page 27
