by SUE FINEMAN
“Iraq,” said Bo. “Shattered elbow.”
“Army?”
“Marines.”
Callie took her tote off the belt, stuffed her purse inside, and walked out to the gate with Bo. They stopped at a little café to get something to eat. It would be a long time before dinner on the plane.
Why did she always manage to cause folks so much trouble? She didn’t walk around looking for it, yet trouble always managed to find her. And it wasn’t like a little black cloud, either. Her kind of trouble was the thunderstorm variety, with hail so big it put dents in your car. Like that night Chet got drunk and forced himself on her. Who knew he’d gone out drinking with his buddies before he took her to the drive-in movie, and who knew he’d rape her in the backseat of his daddy’s old Buick? She’d scratched and fought him off, but he was so big and strong. Chet was a hometown hero back then, not just a high school football star, but a college football star home for Christmas break. And football was sacred in Texas, right up there next to the Virgin Mary.
She was still in shock when Tommy Ray found her wandering out by the river at one in the morning. Tommy Ray drove her home and talked with her parents. He said things had gotten out of hand on her date and she’d had sex with the boy. He didn’t say she’d been raped, and she never did tell her folks what really happened. She was too embarrassed to talk about it.
Mama chased her into the shower and went to the drug store for a douche, but three weeks later, Callie knew she was pregnant. In her neck of the woods, when a girl got pregnant, she got married, but Chet had gone back to college and she didn’t want to marry him anyway. After what he’d done, she didn’t want anything to do with him ever again. Poor Mama was so embarrassed she couldn’t face the ladies at church, and Daddy couldn’t look his only child in the eye.
Tommy Ray came by the house with a pregnancy test kit, and it came out positive, as Callie knew it would. Tommy Ray said he had a solution to the problem. Forcing Chet to marry her would ruin his chance with the pros, and everyone in town would hate her for doing that, so Tommy Ray said he’d marry her himself and claim the baby as his own.
Seeing the hopeful look on Daddy’s face and the relief on Mama’s sealed her fate, but Callie couldn’t blame her parents. She could have stopped things right then, but she went along, wanting to do the right thing by her family, especially the baby. Only she didn’t know then that Daddy gave Tommy Ray the ranch as part of the deal.
Tommy Ray was twenty-some years older than she was, a hardened lawman with a marriage and divorce under his belt. She didn’t not like him when she married him. She didn’t know him that well, and she’d never considered him husband material. Mama was so relieved she didn’t have to send her only child to a home for unwed mothers or hide her in the barn for the next eight months, things just kinda mushroomed out of control. Tommy Ray said it would be better to elope than to have folks in town wondering why the rush, so the next day, Tommy Ray drove her to Mexico, and Callie came home married to a man old enough to be her father.
“Callie, you okay?”
“I’ll be all right, Bo.” But she wouldn’t be okay until she had her little boy in her arms again. “If I could survive living with Tommy Ray for eight years, I can survive anything.”
Unless Tommy Ray found her again.
Every time Tommy Ray touched her, it made her feel dirty. He wasn’t gentle and she didn’t love him, but she got to raise her son on the ranch. Even though the ranch belonged to Tommy Ray, not to her like Granddaddy promised, it was still home. But the longer she lived with Tommy Ray, the more betrayed she felt. If they’d given her time to think about it, to get to know him better, she never would have married him, baby or no baby.
After Mama and Daddy died, Tommy Ray started slapping Brady, and this last year he started whipping him with a belt. He said he wanted to ‘toughen him up,’ but Callie didn’t like it. No sir, she didn’t like it at all. Tommy Ray was a mean-tempered bully. She didn’t want him hurting her little boy, and she didn’t want Brady to grow up like him.
She played with her glass. “If Tommy Ray kills me, he’ll get Brady, and he hates kids. He don’t even like horses, and everybody in Caledonia County likes horses.”
She drained her water glass. “He’s up for re-election this year. If I die, he’ll get the sympathy vote.”
“Not if people know he’s the one who killed you.”
Bo gazed into Callie’s eyes and into the face of trouble. She appeared sweet and innocent, but nobody was that sweet and innocent. How much of what she said was true and how much had she made up?
All his life, he’d avoided trouble. At school, he broke up the playground fights, but he didn’t fight himself. In the service, he pulled his buddies out of the bars when the fights began. He took care of Mom after Dad died of a gunshot wound in a domestic dispute call, and up until Greg married Neen, Bo constantly pulled his brother’s ass out of the fire.
Until now, Bo played it safe with women, but Callie Caldwell, with her soft Southern voice and violet eyes, had sucked him in. She reminded him of Snow White, with her fair skin and dark hair. Callie had the power to damage him more than that bomb in Iraq, but he had other things to worry about now, like how to keep Tiny Tim away from the Sheriff of Nottingham. He glanced at Callie’s face and wondered if Snow White could shoot a bow and arrow. Or maybe she’d already shot one. At him. Or was that Cupid? You never could tell about these things.
“What are you thinking about, Bo?”
“Fairy tales.”
He stood, threw some money on the table, and they walked out to the gate together.
Chapter Four
Bo’s companion sat quietly on the plane. Callie hadn’t said much since they’d left Greg and Neen’s house. At first, he thought she feared flying, but he suspected it had more to do with her husband. They were returning to enemy territory, to the place she’d escaped from, the ranch where she grew up, the place her husband now owned. Good thing Tommy Ray wouldn’t be there right away. It would take him at least four days to drive back, and they had no idea if he’d left already or stayed in Tacoma to look for Callie.
The plane touched down in Houston. They followed the hoards of people down to baggage claim and then walked out to the rental car. The smothering blanket of muggy heat hit him like a slap in the face. And he thought summer in Tacoma was bad. At least it cooled off at night in Tacoma.
Neen had only reserved one room at the airport hotel in Houston, and the place was booked full. Bo explained the problem to Callie. “We can go find another place, or we can stay in one room.”
“One room is fine, as long as it has two beds.”
“It does.” He didn’t feel like driving around in a strange city, looking for a motel with two rooms.
Minutes later, Bo sat on the side of the bed and pulled his shoes off. “Brady doesn’t look much like you.”
“No, he favors his…”
He and Callie exchanged a long look, and unspoken questions nibbled at him. Who was the kid’s natural father? Did she love him? Did she intend to go back to him after her divorce? Why hadn’t she married him instead of Tommy Ray Caldwell?
“The man who... He doesn’t know about Brady, and I don’t want him to know.” She spoke quietly, but firmly.
“If I had a kid, I’d sure as hell want to know about him.”
She unzipped her suitcase and dug around inside. “That’s different. You wouldn’t get drunk and...” She pulled out a nightshirt and looked up. “Brady may look like him, but he’s a good kid and I taught him right from wrong.”
Bo stood and walked toward her. “Are you saying you were raped?”
“Yes, but he was so drunk I doubt he even remembers that night.” Hugging her shirt, she said, “I’ll never forget it.”
“Of course not. You have a reminder.”
She lifted her chin. “No, sir, I have a beautiful little boy who will grow up to be a decent man.” Dropping her voice, she added, “Like you.
”
She didn’t know him well enough to know what kind of man he was. “Maybe I’m not as decent as you think.”
“Oh, yes you are.” She dropped her sleep shirt on the bed and reached for his sore arm. “Hurts tonight, doesn’t it?” Her gentle fingers massaged his arm above his elbow and worked their way down, not a deep massage, but one meant to warm and soothe. By the time she worked her way down toward his wrist, it felt better.
“You have magic fingers.” He wondered what else she could do with those fingers, but he wouldn’t find out tonight. Raped. And he thought she had another man or more than one. Maybe she was what she seemed. If she was being honest with him this time.
Her story about the tornado seemed far-fetched, and she’d neglected to tell him about Tommy Ray’s profession or the warrant for her arrest. And then there was the kid. She had him so damned confused, he didn’t know what to believe. If she didn’t look so sweet, if she didn’t sound so innocent, if she didn’t turn him on, his mind might work better. But sweet little Callie, with her cloud of dark hair and startling eyes, was unlike any woman he’d ever met. He’d have another woman in his bed by now, but after hearing how she’d conceived her son, he couldn’t make the first move. That would have to be up to her.
<>
Sometime in the night, Callie heard Bo thrashing and talking in his sleep. She turned the bathroom light on and saw the sweat beaded on his forehead. A nightmare, no doubt. Pulling the bathroom door nearly closed, she walked to Bo’s bed and put her hand on his shoulder.
“Callie,” he whispered.
“I’m right here, Bo.”
She slipped under the covers beside him and rubbed his shoulder. He threw his arm over her hip as if they’d done this a hundred times before. He needed comfort after his nightmare the same way she’d needed comfort after a nightmare session with Tommy Ray. But Tommy Ray never gave her comfort. He’d hurt her, then turn over and go to sleep while she lay crying into her pillow.
Bo’s body began to stir again. He nuzzled into her neck and pulled her closer to his warm, solid body. His arms tightened around her and he lifted his head. With his eyes still closed, his lips brushed hers and his hand moved up under her sleep shirt to cover her breast.
She smacked his arm. “You’re not asleep.”
“Neither are you,” he whispered, his voice husky with sleep. His mouth started doing wonderful things to her face and lips, tasting and coaxing her to kiss him back, until she couldn’t resist. He tasted like sleep and sexy man, and her body came alive as it never had with Tommy Ray or Chet. Her breast seemed to grow in his hand as he rubbed the aching nipple with his thumb.
Callie felt like she’d melt into a big puddle right there in the middle of the bed. Nobody had ever, in her whole entire life, touched her and kissed her like Bo. His lips were soft, yet demanding, and when he cupped her behind and hauled her up against him, a little moan slipped out, only to be swallowed up by his amazing mouth. She wrapped her arms around him and held on, wanting the kiss to last forever.
Still holding her against him, Bo leaned his forehead against hers. Their breaths mingled in little puffs of hot steam, and Callie felt the tingle turn into a full body ache that settled right where he held her against his... Sweet Lord! She wondered what it would be like to make love with a man she cared about, one she wanted so much he made her heart flutter.
“Callie, honey, I didn’t bring any condoms with me.”
Bo’s voice brought her to her senses. “But I just wanted—” His mouth covered hers again, and his hand tugged at her panties. She broke the kiss. “Bo, you had a nightmare, and—”
His hands stopped moving. “You’re not here for sex?”
“No, you had a nightmare and I wanted to give you comfort.”
He groaned and pulled back just enough that she missed the warmth. “Honey, the next time you come into my bed, I’ll want more than a kiss.”
Her hands shaking, she flung back the covers and jumped out. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” he murmured, and his response made her body tingle all over. She should have known better than to get into his bed, nightmare or no nightmare. He wasn’t a little boy like Brady. Bo was a full-grown man who’d probably had lots of lovers. Why wouldn’t he think she’d come to him for sex?
Back in her own cold bed, she realized he could have taken advantage of the situation, but he hadn’t. If he’d pushed for sex, could she have turned him away? Did she want to? Her hands covered her tingling breasts as she answered her own question. She wanted to know what it felt like to have sex with a real man, a man she didn’t fear, one who even when angry, wouldn’t hurt her.
She’d been starved for affection the past few years, but her husband, the man who should have treated her kindly and with respect, never showed her anything but pain and humiliation. Glancing at the man sleeping in the other bed, she knew it wouldn’t be like that with Bo Gregory.
<>
The next morning, Bo didn’t say anything about her coming into his bed last night, and she didn’t either. What could she say? That she’d made a mistake? It was a mistake, one she didn’t regret. Her face grew warm remembering the touch of his lips on hers and his hands on her body.
Bo checked out of the motel and they drove toward the ranch. In the midst of the beautiful Texas hill country she loved, Callie said, “It’s up here a little ways.” As they passed the sign welcoming them to Caledonia County, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When she was growing up, she thought the ranch was the best place in the whole world. She’d always felt safe there, but living with Tommy Ray turned it into a place of unspeakable pain and scalding humiliation.
Callie pointed the way, and Bo pulled off the highway, over the cattle guard, and through the gates of the only home she’d ever known. The house was up ahead on the left, with the barn on the right. Tommy Ray’s cars and trucks, alive and dead, scattered between the two buildings. The only vehicle missing was Tommy Ray’s new pickup truck. Too bad the tornado didn’t take all those old cars instead of the trailer house with Mama and Daddy in it. Too bad Tommy Ray wasn’t in there with them. They chose her husband. They should have been the ones who had to live with him.
Bo backed the car in among the other cars and trucks. She suspected he wanted to get out quickly, if necessary. Heat rose off the rusty metal roof of the house and the cars in waves and, with the engine and air-conditioner off, the rental car warmed quickly. He pointed to the shed, or what was left of the shed. “What’s that?”
“It used to be the shed where Daddy kept the tractor, but the tornado ripped the doors off and took most of the roof. Tommy Ray wouldn’t let me tear it down or burn it.” Every time she saw it, it reminded her of what she’d lost to the tornado.
She unlocked the kitchen door and walked inside with Bo. Without the air-conditioner on, the house felt like an oven. They wouldn’t be there long enough to cool the house, so she left the kitchen door open to catch the breeze.
The place was a mess, the kitchen piled with dirty dishes crawling with ants. Tommy Ray had left his dirty clothes and work boots on the living room floor, and empty beer bottles littered the coffee table.
“Callie, where’s the safe?”
“Back here.” She pointed to the bedroom hallway. “In the bedroom closet.”
While Callie went to the closet, Bo wandered around looking at the run-down house. Although it held a certain old-fashioned charm, the floors felt soft and the ceiling sagged with water stains. There were three small bedrooms, one bathroom, and tiny closets. The hardwood floors must have been nice at one time, but they hadn’t been maintained.
“I take it Tommy Ray doesn’t like to clean.”
“No, sir. He wants everything done for him.”
Bo swore under his breath when he saw the handcuffs on the headboard and footboard of the bed. While Callie worked on the safe, he opened the nightstand to find a small whip and blindfold and other sex toys or instruments of tort
ure, whichever way you wanted to look at it. She said Tommy Ray beat on her and slapped Brady around, but she never said what went on in her bedroom.
After living with Tommy Ray, she should be afraid of men in general, yet she’d crawled into his bed last night, and she’d not only let him kiss her, she’d kissed him back. Knowing how she’d lived made him appreciate last night even more. The nightmare woke him and he’d found himself snuggled up to her soft, warm body. Still half asleep, he’d wanted her to be there for other reasons. Maybe someday she would come for sex, but he wouldn’t push it. He couldn’t, not after learning about the rape and seeing the bed she’d shared with her husband.
“I got it open,” she called.
Bo glanced out the window and saw an old pickup truck coming down the dirt drive toward the house, kicking up a cloud of dust. “Looks like we have company.”
“Oh, no. We’ll have to hide until they’re gone.”
Bo closed and locked the kitchen door as the pickup, country music blasting from the radio, stopped near the front door. Callie held a flowered pillowcase knotted on the end. The contents of the safe, he assumed. She pointed to a door in the kitchen and followed him down the basement steps, closing the door behind her without making a sound.
“Hey, Dwayne,” a man called. “I’ll check the bedrooms.”
“Will you look at this mess.” Dwayne laughed. “I do believe the sheriff is a bigger slob than me, and according to Mama, nobody is a bigger slob than me.”
“Ole man Winthrop musta left that map here in the house somewheres,” said the other man.
Bo whispered in Callie’s ear. “Do you know those men?”
“Dwayne and Leroy Richardson. They have a small ranch on the north side of us.”
“Brothers?” asked Bo.
She nodded.
“Did you hear something?” called Dwayne.
“Nah. Hey, I found a safe. What you ‘spose is in here?”
