by SUE FINEMAN
Standing on the side of the house on the opposite side of the driveway, Bo listened to Neen yell, “Get the hell out of my way. I’m pregnant and you really don’t want to mess with a pregnant woman.”
“Don’t touch my wife.” Greg almost snarled the words.
“I’m gonna search that van, so get the fuck out of my way,” Tommy Ray yelled.
Callie whispered, “Ooh, is he ever mad.”
The van’s tires spun in the dirt and it sped down the driveway. Bo peeked around the front of the house as two other engines started and sirens blared. The two patrol cars raced after it.
Randy called to them, “Bo, Callie, come on, let’s go. Hurry.”
They piled in Randy’s old Cadillac, and he drove down the drive without headlights. Neen’s rented van and the patrol cars had gone right, but Randy turned left. Down the road a little way, he turned the lights on. Bo twisted to look behind them and saw the lights flashing where the sheriff and his deputy had stopped the van.
“Mercy me,” said Callie. “Is Neen gonna be all right?”
“Greg is with her,” said Randy.
An explosion rocked the ranch, then another one, and another one. Randy said, “Tommy Ray will want to know what that’s all about, and as soon as they pull in the driveway—”
“Skeeter will blow up the culvert under the driveway.” It wasn’t a question. Bo knew how Skeeter’s mind worked. He’d learned all about explosives in the military, and with Greg’s DEA and FBI background, he knew where to put his hands on the explosives.
Bo looked behind him. “Yep, there they go.”
After one final explosion, Randy turned the car around and drove back past the ranch. A big hole in the driveway near the road prevented the sheriff and his men from leaving.
They passed Greg, who was walking back toward the ranch. Randy beeped the horn and waved. Greg waved back and kept walking. Bo would worry about anyone else, but Greg could handle himself. So could Skeeter.
Callie had proven herself today, too. Sneaking into the hotel right under Tommy Ray’s nose might have been a foolish thing to do, but she’d pulled it off. The little Texas lady had more balls than some of the guys he’d fought with in Iraq.
Minutes later, Bo and Callie boarded Neen’s plane at the tiny Caledonia County Airport. They sped down the runway, and as soon as they leveled off, Bo leaned his seat back, popped a pain pill, propped his arm on a pillow, and closed his eyes. He’d had enough excitement for one day, and the pain in his arm was building. He needed to rest.
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Bo woke the next morning in Greg and Neen’s guest room. He heard voices downstairs and glanced at the clock. Nine-thirty, nearly noon Texas time. He stretched and sat up. He didn’t know where Callie had slept last night, but it wasn’t with him.
A wide-eyed little boy stood in the open bedroom door. “Does it hurt?”
“Not too much,” said Bo. “Tell your mama I’ll be down for breakfast in a few minutes.”
Brady grinned. “Aunt Neen says it’s more like lunch time.” The kid moved closer. “Mama says you need somebody to take care of you, and Aunt Neen says—”
Bo held up his hand. He didn’t want to hear any more. “You go tell Aunt Neen that Uncle Bo gets real grumpy when he doesn’t get breakfast.” Bo faked a big growl and Brady ran down the stairs squealing and giggling.
Callie cooked the bacon and made a big batch of pancakes. Neen had already left for a doctor’s appointment when Bo wandered into the kitchen wearing a pair of worn jeans and no shoes or shirt. Blood stained his bandage, his fingers had that orange stuff all over them, and lines creased his face where he’d slept on a wrinkled pillowcase. “Poor baby. Did you sleep all right?”
“I was lonesome.”
She put three plates on the table and sat down to eat with him and Brady. The little stinker had refused to eat without his Uncle Bo, so she’d waited, too.
“Bo, I called your doctor’s office and made an appointment for Friday for a follow-up, like Dr. Hildebrand said. Okay?”
“Okay? What did I ever do without you?”
Brady giggled and stuffed in another big bite of pancake. Bo winked at him and Brady grinned around his bite.
Callie put another pancake on Brady’s plate. “Your mama called, Bo. She said she and Katie would be over for lunch.”
Bo glanced at the clock. “I need a bath. I don’t suppose you could help me, so I don’t get my incisions wet.”
She gave him a warm smile. “Of course. Brady, if you’re finished eating, go wash up and call Katie. See if you can stay with her for an hour or so while I help Uncle Bo.”
As soon as Brady left the room, Bo asked, “Where did you sleep last night?”
“With Brady.” She put her hand on his. “I didn’t want to bump you in my sleep and hurt you.”
Brady came running into the kitchen. “Katie said she’d meet me halfway. Can I go now?”
“May I—”
“May I go now?”
“We’ll go together.”
“Aw, Mama, it’s only down the street a little way.”
Callie glanced at Bo, who suggested, “Why don’t you watch from the driveway?”
Brady shot Bo a big grin, and Bo said, “He’s too big to have his mother walk him everywhere, aren’t you, Brady?”
“Yeah.”
It seemed like a good compromise. Callie walked out to the driveway with Brady and waved to Katie, who had a little dog with her.
Brady waved and turned to ask, “Can I go now, Mama?”
“May—”
“May I go now?”
“Okay, go on. Be a good boy now, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Brady raced to Katie and took her hand. His pants were too short and his shirt too small. He’d grown a good two inches since she’d left Tommy Ray. She had to buy him some school clothes and get him enrolled. If Bo wanted them to stay here. Now that they were here, she didn’t know what to do.
Bo put the dirty dishes in the sink and wiped off the kitchen table, something Tommy Ray would never have bothered with. She washed the pans and put the dirty plates in the dishwasher, but her mind wasn’t on cleaning up Neen’s kitchen.
“Something wrong, Callie?”
“We’re not staying here, are we?”
“No, I live at The Brothel. I know the living arrangements aren’t the best there, but it’s my home.”
Callie had never felt so lost as she did at that moment, but she didn’t dare show it around her son. “Are we going to be here long enough for Brady to go to school?”
Bo hesitated for several seconds. “That’s up to you, Callie. Do you want to live here or in Texas?”
She lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. “Don’t you want me here, Bo?”
“Callie, I’m not even sure I want to be here, but I can’t talk about this now. I don’t know what I want and you don’t either.”
Oh, yes, she did. She wanted to go home to the ranch with Brady and Bo. She wanted to put in a pool and buy some horses and get Buttercup and Betty Grable back. But Bo’s family lived here, and his business was here. She didn’t want to be in Tacoma, but she didn’t want to leave here without Bo.
Bo put his hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. “Callie, I know you don’t feel at home here. You know it’s just temporary, don’t you?”
Did he mean that she was temporary? “Yes, sir, I ‘spose it is just temporary.” But her love for Bo wasn’t temporary. Whether he loved her back or not, she didn’t have any doubts about her feelings for him. No doubts at all.
She loved him.
As Callie helped Bo with his bath, he watched her face. She’d become very quiet, but the gentle way she took care of him spoke volumes. She wasn’t the kind of woman who gave herself to any man who smiled at her, and she wore her feelings on her face and in her eyes.
He lifted her chin and gazed into her worried eyes. “We’ll get through this, Callie. I promise you that somehow,
we’ll get you and Brady through this.”
Sitting on the edge of the tub stark naked and squeaky clean, thanks to Callie, he reached out for a kiss. “Sleep with me tonight, Callie. It isn’t always about sex, you know. Sometimes I just need to touch you and know you’re there.”
“I know.”
“It may be a month or two before we get things settled in Caledonia County. In the meantime, you and Brady can stay at The Brothel with me.”
Her face brightened. “Are you sure, Bo?”
“He needs to be in school, Callie. I need to get to work on the business, and I only have one good arm. I need you.” He needed her for more than business. She’d become essential to his spirit.
They heard voices downstairs and Brady came running up to Bo’s bedroom. Callie stepped out of the bathroom and said, “Go downstairs and tell the others we’ll be down in a few minutes. I have to put clean bandages on Bo and then we’ll be down.”
“Okay.” Little feet pounded down the stairs.
As Callie put a clean bandage on Bo’s leg, she said, “The doctor took the piece of metal out of your leg.”
“What did he say about my arm?”
She helped him on with his pants and he sat on the end of the bed before she answered. “He said it should be just fine.”
He grabbed her arm. “You’re a lousy liar. Look at me and tell me the truth.”
“He said he took out all the metal and bone chips and a bunch of scar tissue, and he said you had more damage than he thought, that you’d need therapy, and it shouldn’t hurt so much once it heals. It won’t be one hundred percent, but it should be a whole bunch better than it was before.” She’d give anything if she could tell him his arm would be like it was before he went to Iraq, but she couldn’t lie to him.
“You’re more man with one good arm than most I know with two, so don’t you dare sit there and feel sorry for yourself. You’re still alive, your arm is still functional even if it isn’t one hundred percent, and your mind still works one hundred percent. Your heart does, too.” She lowered her voice. “At least it does when you’re not feeling sorry for yourself.”
She cradled his head against her breasts. “If you’re worried about how I’ll feel about you, don’t. It doesn’t matter to me, Bo. You’ll swim every day and—”
“Where am I supposed to do that, Callie?”
How much would a pool cost? Did she have enough money to buy horses, pay the back taxes on the ranch and her other bills, and put in a swimming pool, too? Some of those bills would just have to wait, because Bo needed his pool.
But what if he didn’t want to live on the ranch with her? What if he wanted to stay here, with his family, with his business? She’d longed for a man like this her whole entire life, and now that she’d found him, she didn’t want to let him go.
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Bo’s mother and Katie were still there when Neen returned from her doctor’s appointment. Callie liked Bo’s mama, and when Carol Gregory suggested they go shopping for school clothes for Brady and Katie, Callie nodded. Neen yawned and Callie knew she needed a nap. She’d been up late last night, flying them halfway across the country. And Bo needed time by himself to brood about his arm. He’d earned the right to wallow in self-pity for a little while, as long as he didn’t do it forever.
At the mall, Callie helped Katie pick out her first bra. “I had one like this when I was your age. I didn’t have anything much to hold up, but sometimes your clothes look better when you wear something under them.”
Katie smiled shyly. Callie said, “My mama didn’t think I needed a bra until I was at least thirteen. She wouldn’t let me wear lipstick until I started high school, but I had a girlfriend buy me some and I put it on after I went to school in the mornings. Mama probably knew what I was doing, but she never said a thing about it. I always wiped it all off on the school bus on the way home.”
“I wish I had a mom like you. The social workers with the state say I can’t stay with Mrs. Gregory forever, and I don’t want to go to another foster home.”
Callie gave her a hug. “Honey, if I didn’t have trouble with my husband, I’d gladly take you home with me. Brady needs a sister, and I always wanted a daughter, but it isn’t safe at the ranch right now.”
The disappointment in her eyes tore at Callie’s heart, but it wasn’t fair to Katie to make promises she couldn’t keep. She’d be better off in a foster home here in Washington than in Texas where Tommy Ray could get at her.
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All his hope for a full recovery on his arm drained away, leaving Bo empty inside. While Neen napped and Callie shopped, he lay on the bed wondering what to do with his sorry life. He wouldn’t mind living on the ranch with Callie once Tommy Ray was gone, but he wouldn’t be any good to her with one arm. He couldn’t swim there to exercise his arm, and he couldn’t do any constructive work on the ranch. And he sure as hell didn’t want to stay in Tacoma and run that damn nightclub.
As his eyes drifted closed, Bo wondered what to do about Callie. He loved her, but he couldn’t see them together for the long term. Callie had a home, a ranch, and goals for the future. The doctor’s prognosis frustrated him and put his life in limbo. He wanted to plan for the future, but he couldn’t because he didn’t know how much he could do with his bad arm. After his incisions healed, he’d get physical therapy, and then he needed to live near a pool, so he could exercise. If he didn’t work the muscles in that arm, it would stiffen up on him like it had before.
He was stuck here in Tacoma, at least for now. Callie would stay with him until she could safely go home. Then she’d live at the ranch.
And he’d stay here.
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Bo, Callie, and Brady spent one more night with Neen and then moved back to The Brothel.
The funeral service for the baby Bo found in the wall was scheduled for Thursday, and the newspaper had run a contest to name the baby. The mother of two little girls wrote in to say her daughters wanted to name the baby Angel Baby because she was in heaven with Jesus now, and that was the name Bo’s mother and the rest of the family chose from amongst all the entries submitted.
They couldn’t dress bones to put in the casket, but someone had sent a beautiful white hand knit baby blanket to wrap Angel Baby in before they put her in the tiny pink casket the funeral home had donated.
Everyone in the family planned to say something at the funeral, including Bo. Brady wanted to be included, so Bo told him he could go up to the front with him and stand by his side while he talked.
Reporters stood in the back of the church, filming the service for the local news stations. When the minister finished talking, Bo’s mother walked to the front and talked about her family. “Every single child I’ve ever touched has been special to me in some way. If this child had been allowed to live, I know in my heart that someone would have taken her into their home and loved her. Now she’s in God’s hands.”
Chance, an attorney and the oldest of the four adopted Gregory children, spoke about adoption. Mia, a police officer, had darker skin and a delicate, exotic look about her. She spoke about how far we’d come in this country in accepting people for the kind of people they were and not by the color of their skin. “I’d like to think that if Angel Baby were born today, she’d have a wonderful family like mine. Every child deserves to be loved.”
Bo glanced at Callie, took Brady’s hand, and walked to the front. He didn’t have a copy of his speech with him like the others. He spoke directly from his heart, talking about his experience in Iraq, about the kids and the candy and the bomb; and the room grew so quiet, he heard his mother sob. He’d never told his family how he got injured. He’d only shared that pain with one person. Callie.
“Those kids had so little hope. Their homes were damaged or gone, many of the men in their families were fighting or dead, and they had no safe place to hide. They were old before their time. Some kids, like Angel Baby, never had the chance to grow up. Maybe one of them would have become
a future leader, a man or woman who could have brought peace to the country and the region, but we’ll never know. Some of those kids didn’t have any family left to comfort them. Or bury them.”
Bo looked down at Brady, who smiled up at him. “The faces of those children still haunt me, just as the sight of this tiny baby will haunt me. She deserved to live, to make a contribution to society and enjoy a full life.”
He gazed into Callie’s eyes. “I spent the past few days feeling sorry for myself because the doctor couldn’t give me one hundred percent function in my left arm, until a friend pointed out that I still had an arm. I’m better off than some of the men I served with. I came home to my family injured, but alive.”
Bo scanned the rapt faces in the church. Every member of his family had tears in their eyes, and many others did, too. “Let’s stop killing the babies of this world. Let’s respect life, accept people for what’s in their hearts instead of what they look like or how they pray, and stop hurting each other, especially the little people. Celebrate and protect precious life.”
He took Brady’s hand and stepped down to take his seat between his mother and Callie, as Neen stood and began to sing Amazing Grace. After a few bars, Neen choked up, so Bo and Mia and Mom stood and picked it up. Callie joined in, and the rest of the congregation, and the sound of their voices filled the church.
Chapter Eleven
Greg called Mom’s house, where the family gathered after the funeral. Mom put it on the speakerphone, so everyone could hear. “I saw the funeral on CNN,” said Greg. “You made the big time. They’re running Bo’s part over and over. Hey, brother, you should have been a politician.”
“No thanks. What’s happening there?”
“We pulled the wagon wheel out. It’s pre-Civil War. Callie could sell it, but Skeeter suggested putting it at the entrance to the ranch.”
Callie nodded.
“We dug up two hundred and forty of those ingots, plus the two we found the other day. If they’re authentic, they should be worth between fifteen hundred and two thousand each, maybe more.”
