Hold On (Delos Series Book 5) (31 page)

“You love her.”

Beau felt all the fire go out of him. “Without question, I do, sir. But I have no idea if Callie loves me. We’ve never broached the topic with one another. We didn’t know one another that long before the ambush happened.”

“She does love you,” her grandfather said lazily, moving the cup between his large hands. “But she’s got too much on her plate right now to realize it. Her focus is on her memories from that ambush. She can’t seem to get past them.”

“She’s been through too much, sir, and she needs time to absorb the trauma. Then she can heal up from this experience. It’s shattered her in a lot of ways,” Beau said, relieved to be talking freely to someone who cared so deeply for Callie.

Graham nodded in agreement. “Tell you what I’m going to do. And I need you to go along with an idea I have. Just consider this a little black ops assignment, son.”

*

Callie was so
nervous that her palms broke out in a damp sweat as she saw her grandpa pull into the main parking area near the homestead. Her heart was pounding with anxiety and excitement.

Beau was sitting in the passenger seat, and she felt shock ripple through her as she saw him climb out of the truck. Where was his beard? And his hair was military-short! He was actually handsome! Her heart blew open as she saw his casual, easy way of walking, a duffel over his left shoulder as he ambled toward the white picket fence. She clasped her hands, standing inside the main door, watching them approach. Her grandfather was smiling, and Beau was laughing at whatever he’d said. It was as if they were old friends reunited after a long separation.

She shifted from one foot to another, now eager to see Beau, to be near him again. And here he was, on a real visit, just for her! Callie was so grateful that her grandfather had urged her to send out that email to him—and he’d answered her almost immediately.

Thirty days! Beau would be with her for a whole month! She’d nearly fainted with joy and relief when she received another email from him a day later, telling her that his captain had authorized his leave. And he was here . . . now, with her.

Suddenly, fear rose up, followed by guilt and shame. And then, her love for Beau overrode everything else. The mix of emotions was almost too much for her to process. She took a deep breath and opened the door as they stomped their boots on the thick, bristly rug on the front porch. The bristles took off most of the snow.

Beau’s head snapped up, and his gaze pinned hers as she opened the door and stepped out. Then all doubt dissolved, and she was overcome with joy, spreading like wings, lifting her out of her dark depression.

Beau grinned and moved forward as Callie threw open the screen door, calling his name. She still had her right arm in a sling and he halted, then opened his arms to her. The sheer delight in her eyes hammered at his pounding heart. She reached up and slid her left arm around his neck, bringing his mouth down upon hers.

Beau was as excited as she was—he loved that taste of apple pie and coffee, and a sweetness that was pure Callie. Her long hair was a loose, shining cape around her shoulders, and he inhaled her womanly scent as she eagerly kissed him in greeting.

Remembering that McKinley was standing nearby, Beau reluctantly eased from Callie’s mouth. They were both breathing raggedly. “I told you I’d come,” he said, grinning, holding her gently against him, his arm loose around her waist.

“Thank you,” she whispered unsteadily. Callie pulled from his embrace and went over to her grandfather, kissing his cheek. “And thank you!”

“She’s looking better already,” Graham noted wryly, winking at her. “Come on, let’s all go inside. It’s cold out here.”

It was three p.m., and the huge kitchen was bright and cheery as Beau followed them inside. He placed his bag at the corner of the room to keep it out of the walkway. There were frilly white curtains at the large glass windows that looked out at the ranch, and the snow-covered, rounded hills rose in the distance. The kitchen was painted a pale yellow, white tiles on the counter and backsplash.

Everything looked homey and antique. Beau especially appreciated the ancient iron wood-burning stove and the black iron skillets sitting nearby. The warmth in the kitchen gently mingled with the scent of freshly made apple pie and coffee.

Graham remained standing. “Baby girl, why don’t you and your friend sit down over pie and coffee and chat? Grandma and I have some work to do outside. We’ll see you two at dinner tonight.”

Callie nodded, barely able to keep from bubbling over with happiness. “Okay, Grandpa. Thank you so much for picking Beau up at the airport.”

Graham smiled. “No problem, Callie. Just enjoy your time with this fine young man.”

“That pie sure smells good,” Beau murmured, eyeing it on the trivet sitting on the kitchen counter. He grinned and reached across the long trestle table, squeezing her hand. “When I kissed you I tasted it. Did you already have a piece?”

He saw her cheeks flush pink, her green eyes had been clouded blazing into life once more. Graham had warned him that Callie was nosediving into depression. He’d recognized the signs because he, too, had a tendency to sink into the same state.

Both Graham and Beau suspected she was stuck because she couldn’t release the horrors of the ambush. Graham hoped that because Callie trusted Beau, he could get her to release whatever was troubling her.

“Busted,” she laughed softly, shaking her head. “Yes, I stole a sliver of it earlier. Would you like a slice?”

“Yes,” he said, “but let me help you. You’re still one-armed at this point.”

“I’m getting to hate this sling,” she muttered. “The doctor said starting tomorrow I could go without it, and I can hardly wait.” She pulled her arm out of the sling, showing him her new, removable cast. “The healing is going well. My doctor said this is waterproof so I can wash with it, which is wonderful.”

Beau pushed the chair back and rose. “Well, it’s a step in the right direction, gal. Why don’t you show me where things are kept, and I’ll cut us two slices of pie.”

“Okay. I’m actually feeling hungry now,” she said, getting up.

Callie had lost weight, and Graham had confided that she had no appetite, which bothered him, but Beau was buoyed to see her interest in joining him for apple pie—could it be a sign of progress already?

“This is a great place to live,” he said, cutting the pie with a knife. “Everything’s so big.”

Callie brought down two plates. “Dara and I were so lucky to grow up here. Grandpa and Grandma have given us all a wonderful life.”

He looked her way. “Are you feeling better now that you’re home, Callie?”

She seemed to deflate with his question. Pulling two forks from the drawer, she said, “Yes and no. My parents are worried about me, and I-I can’t tell them what happened . . . not yet.” She bit down on her full lower lip. “I’m just not ready . . .”

Never, if Beau had anything to do with it, would her family know everything that had happened to Callie. It was her call, and he respected however she wanted to handle it. He remained silent, bringing the pie over to the table. After Callie sat down opposite him, the coffee and pie in front of them, he decided to remind her of something she’d said to him in Ops at Bagram.

“I need to understand something, Callie,” he began, holding her gaze. “You said something to me in Ops, just before you left, about being a disappointment to me. I never had a chance to ask you what that meant.” His voice faltered as he remembered. “And I could see it was something important, or you wouldn’t have said it. Can we talk about that now?”

He saw her face become still, some of the darkness returning to her green eyes. She put her fork down. “How could you not be disappointed in me, Beau? I ran. I was a coward. I didn’t listen to you when you hid me behind that huge tree on that mountain slope. I put you and me both in harm’s way.” She shook her head, giving him a wounded look. “I’m so sorry I did that. You’ll never know how much.”

He stretched his hand across the table, gripping hers. “Listen to me. First of all, I wasn’t disappointed by anything you did out there, Callie. You must know that once and for all.” He saw tears glimmer in her eyes, saw her fighting them back. “It would be one thing if you were in the military and I gave you the order to stay put, but you’re a civilian, Callie. You were scared. And I’m sure that, as those riders came closer, adrenaline was pouring through your bloodstream. Fear makes us do things to survive, and that’s why you ran. You were afraid they were going to find you and kill you.”

He released her hand, seeing the devastation in her face. She had to hear the truth from him, or she’d go on telling herself she was a coward who ran away, a disappointment to the whole human race. None of that was true, but Beau had to get her to see it from his perspective as an operator.

Callie sat up, tucking her hands in her lap. Searching his open face, the look in his gray eyes, she whispered, “Really? You aren’t mad at me? Or disappointed?” She saw his mouth tug upward.

“No, sweet woman’, I’m none of those things where you’re concerned. We have to get this talked out, Callie. Otherwise, it’s going to be like an elephant in the room between us. I don’t want that. I want to be here to help support you as much as I can. I know what you’ve gone through. I was there. I saw it all.” Beau halted and shook his head. “If you never believe anything else I say, Callie, believe this: I care so damn deeply for you, my heart aches sometimes. I would do anything in the world for you. Let what happened out there on that ambush go. I’m telling no one about it—that’s between you and me. It’s not important to me to throw that information around. What is important is how you see yourself, and that you realize how I see you. Don’t close the door on life, or me, or yourself, Callie. Let your life go on, and that includes your life and mine.”

Sharp relief cut through Callie as she stared into Beau’s narrowed gray eyes. His voice was low, fraught with emotion, and he wasn’t trying to hide how he felt. She twisted her hands, palms damp. Seeing the sincerity, the raw feelings reflected in his eyes, his low, gruff words sank deep into her. She unknotted her hands, flattening them against the table. “You’ve never lied to me, Beau.”

“No, and I never will, Callie.” He reached out, his one large hand covering hers on the table. “Will you believe me? Will you let the past go on this? You’re not a loser. You did nothing wrong. I’ve never blamed you or been upset or angry about what happened out there. I never will be.” His fingers tightened marginally over her hands, holding her watery stare. “Let it go. It’s the past, Callie. Only you and I know the truth of what happened out there. It will go to my grave with me. No one else needs to know.”

Giving a bare nod, she stared down at their hands. She didn’t care if she put her arm back in the sling right now. This was so much more important and she needed Beau’s touch. Pressing her lips together, so many emotions clashing within her, she whispered, “Thank you, Beau . . . I was really lost for a while over this . . .”

He turned her hand over, gathering it gently between his own, holding her confused stare. “Yeah, I know. And it’s to be expected, Callie. You’re not trained to be an operator out there. You did the best you could, and it was more than enough. In my eyes, you’re so damned brave. You were a fighter when we had to run. You never gave up or gave in. You were there with me every step of the way. Look at all the things you did right with me to get us out of that hot mess. Okay?” He added a small, hopeful smile to go along with his low, thick words.

To his surprise, he saw Callie take his passionately spoken reasons to heart. There was a lightening in her eyes and he could see the tension draining from her pale face, as if a priest had given her absolution for her sins. Never had he wanted her to believe him more than right now. They had to jump this hurdle together and then put it behind them forever. If he could convince her she’d done nothing wrong, that she was simply reacting out of survival instinct, then Beau knew this wouldn’t continue to haunt her for the rest of her life. And he loved her too much to see that happen. He would fight with his heart, his soul, to put this idea she held to rest and bury it forever between them. Otherwise, there was no hope for their being together in the future and he knew it.

“Callie, I have dreams of us being together,” he began. “And I hope you have dreams for us, too.” His hands tightened a little around hers, because Beau wanted a life with this woman. The surprise in her eyes told him that she’d given up on having any relationship with him until just right now.

“That’s a dream I thought,” she said, choked up, “had died out there . . .”

“Dreams are about hope, Callie.” He held her wounded gaze. “I dream for both of us, but now I think you realize you can dream right alongside me, too. That there’s a lot of hope of a future if we want it.”

*