Hold On (Delos Series Book 5) Page 7

  “He’s got leave coming up for Christmas, and we’re planning on seeing a lot of each other then. He’s invited me to his family’s dinner, and I’m going.”

  “Okay,” she said grumpily, “Matt has to come back here after that, though. He’s got a few more months until his enlistment is up. You’re going to worry the hell out of yourself about where he’s at, Dara. I know you. Worrying is the number one thing you do best.”

  Smiling a little, Dara nodded, cutting into her breakfast steak. “That’s true, I worry a lot. I got Grandma’s gene on that one,” she said wryly.

  “Thank God I didn’t get it,” Callie said with feeling. “I see what it does to you. And when Matt has to deploy back here, you’ll go crazy with concern for him.”

  “I know … but it’s only a few months,” Dara said. “And in my residency I’m so busy eight to sixteen hours a day, I don’t have time to worry. It’s when I get home that it really hits me. He’s promised to stay in touch via email and Skype when he can.”

  “I’m sure he will. These Delta Force boys are out on ops more than they’re back at their HQ here at Bagram. You’re not educated on the military like I am, Dara. And don’t forget, I fell for Chet five years ago. He was Delta Force. I know the type.”

  “I remember that debacle,” Dara said sadly, giving her a commiserating look. “I remember how much it tore you up to break up with him.”

  “I had to, for a lot of reasons.”

  “But isn’t Beau different from Chet?”

  Snorting, Callie said, “Light years different. I can’t even compare the two personalities. The only place there’s agreement is that they’re both Delta Force.”

  “Then why not give yourself a chance with him, Callie? You’re young, beautiful, and single. I know you have dreams of settling down, eventually working stateside for the Hope Charity and raising a family someday.”

  “Because Beau is Army. His enlistment is up in June of next year. I asked him if he was going to reenlist and he said yes, that he wanted to put his twenty in.”

  “Oh,” Dara said, frowning. “Well … that’s not good for you.”

  “No, and if I married the guy—not saying I would … but if I did? He’d be off on some top secret mission to some armpit nation, and I’d know nothing. I’d be left behind to take care of the house, myself, and any children we had.”

  “I can’t argue with your experience,” she said. “But I really think Beau is nice. And he seems to get along well with you. Does he make you happy?”

  “Yes,” she muttered. “I really like being with him. And I’m having one hell of a time keeping my hands off him.”

  “So are you saying that if he wasn’t in the Army, you’d pursue him? Or”—she grinned—“let him pursue you?”

  “Yes. But that’s not reality. And I’m not sure I can try again, Dara. I can’t. My heart can’t take another blow like that.”

  “You have had your fair share of broken relationships over the last five years,” Dara agreed quietly, buttering her toast. She brightened. “Well, who knows? Maybe fate will intervene in a positive way. Maybe you’ll see a door open that wasn’t open before regarding the two of you.”

  Callie shook her head. “You know, you’re a bigger idealist and dreamer than I ever was, Dara. You always have been. I’m a realist in comparison to you.” She smiled at her sister. “I don’t see how that could have happened.”

  Shrugging, Dara said, “Well, Mom always said to dream big, and the cosmos will take care of the doors flying open in front of us to make it happen.”

  “As much as I love Mom, I’ve found in the last five years that my dreams do not intersect with reality. I’m trying to be more pragmatic now. I can’t afford idealism in my personal life anymore.”

  “I always hold out hope for the hopeless, Callie.”

  “Well,” she said, “you’re a doctor. You have to be in that mode.”

  Waving her knife in Callie’s direction, Dara said, “Maybe you should have a little faith, sis. You know, sometimes life turns around and twists us in unexpected ways, making the impossible look possible. Even for you.”

  “Dreamer and worrywart. Dara, I can’t live like you do,” she said, and managed an apologetic but loving smile for her sister. “A heart can only take so many hurts, so many disappointments, and then you have to protect yourself from ever getting hurt again.”

  “Matt isn’t like that.”

  “Well, that’s good to hear. And I’m truly happy for the both of you. He seems like a really responsible, steady guy, and I’ve seen how he looks at you. He’s fallen for you hook, line, and sinker, sis. But you have for him, too.”

  “Well,” Dara murmured, “I’m getting there. I haven’t known him that long, but I do like what I see, and I like how he conducts himself with me, with the children at the orphanage. He’s a good person with morals and values that agree with my idea of integrity.”

  “Yeah, Beau’s the same,” Callie muttered, shaking her head. “The guy is a stand-up dude. He’s got the same morals and values as Matt. And it sure calls to me, but I’m just so damned afraid to open up my heart one more time.”

  “You’re holding out for a relationship like Grandma and Grandpa have,” Dara agreed. “They’re so devoted to one another, still so in love with one another.” She brightened. “We were so lucky to grow up on their ranch, especially since Dad was always at the hospital. Even today, they live different lives from our grandparents, but they clearly love each other.”

  “I know, I know. I guess.” She finished her oatmeal and pushed the bowl aside. “My idealism starts to show, because I do dream of a relationship with a man like Grandpa or Dad. They’re devoted to their wives. We saw it every day as kids growing up. I mean, for example, Grandpa would come in from working somewhere on the ranch, and he’d have a handful of wildflowers for Grandma in his hand. Or, he knew she loved See’s Candies, and he’d make a special trip into Butte to buy her a box for no reason. And he’d make her hot chocolate at night with lots of whipped cream, because he knew she loved to have a cup of it before bedtime. That’s the kind of marriage I want, Dara. The other day, Beau massaged my aching feet at the orphanage and brought me a cup of coffee. It reminded me so much of something Grandpa or Dad would do. That’s the kind of man I want. I want him to love me so much that he’s looking for small but special ways to show me he loves me.”

  “Well,” Dara said, brightening as she slathered strawberry jam on the toast, “Grandma is the same with Grandpa. She makes him special meals all the time. Things he loves, like roast beef and potatoes, or tuna and noodles. She’s just as devoted to him, Callie. Each has their way of letting the other know on a daily basis that they love one another, that they’re happy with one another.”

  “I know,” Callie whispered, shaking her head. “And I’ve always dreamed of that kind of marriage. To a man who worships me and who I can worship.”

  Dara gave her a wicked look. “Beau massaging your poor, tired feet? What would you call that, hmm? How many men have you known who cared enough about you to ease the cramping and pain I know you get in those feet at the end of some days at the orphanage?”

  Callie nodded. “I guess I didn’t see you pass by the door.”

  She chortled. “Couldn’t help it. I was walking by Maggie’s office and saw you two together. I thought it was sweet of him to do it, Callie. Now, maybe Beau was originally taken with your belly dancing, but he’s clearly a cut above the sex-hungry studs salivating to get you into bed. This guy really cares about you. He’s paying attention to you in ways I’ve never seen a guy do before.”

  “I know,” Callie sighed, confused.

  Dara munched on her toast. “I just hope something happens that will give you two a common doorway you can both walk through together. I’d love to see you in an ongoing relationship with one another.”

  *

  Beau noticed how remote Callie was in the van on the ride to Kabul that morning as he sat in
the backseat with her and Dara, always alert to his environment.

  Matt rode up front with their driver, Mohammed. There wasn’t much talk on this part of the ride, because no roads in Afghanistan were safe. Beau and Matt had their work cut out for them as they watched other pickups, white ones, buzz by them. Any one of them could have held Taliban with weapons. And of course, bomb makers would dig holes at the edges of the highways, burying IEDs in the hope that a driver would run over one of them the next day.

  Beau saw sadness in Callie’s green eyes this morning. What was she feeling? Had something happened to her last night or earlier this morning that he didn’t know about? Beau would make it a point to ask her once they got past feeding the children breakfast.

  He waited and caught Callie walking into Maggie’s office after the children’s breakfast was finished. He knew she had about fifteen minutes before helping teach the children to read. He sauntered in and gave her a hello smile as he picked up a mug.

  “You’re looking sad about something,” he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

  “Just life,” Callie offered, shrugging as she backed off to give him room.

  “Did you hear bad news I should know about? Your family? Your grandparents?”

  She shook her head. “No, everyone is fine back home.”

  “Maybe you’re missing them,” he reflected. “After all, it is the holidays.”

  Callie wanted so badly to walk up to Beau, wrap her arms around his waist, and rest her head on his chest. She knew without a doubt that he’d embrace and hold her. “Well, there is that. I love Christmas, Beau.”

  “Tell me about it,” he said, leaning up against the bookcase and watching some of that sadness dissolve. “What kind of Christmas does your family celebrate?”

  “Oh, a wonderful one. My grandparents are very old-fashioned. They have a sleigh that their two horses haul around the ranch in the snow. And we always get tons of snow.” She sighed and smiled a little. “We have this family tradition where Mom stays at the ranch making apple cider with wonderful spices, warming it up for us. Dad is a killer doughnut maker. He makes them by hand and fries them up in a fryer. While they’re doing that, my grandparents take me and Dara on a sleigh ride under quilts that my grandma made eons ago. We bundle up and take off down a long, sloping hill and into the woods. It’s so wonderful and beautiful. You get to see the snow on the evergreens, the sun sparkling on the snow being pushed off the limbs by the breeze. By the time we get back to the ranch, Mom and Dad have hot apple cider and warm doughnuts on the table waiting for all of us. We tell them of our adventures, and we all sit around the huge oak table and have so much fun and laughter together.”

  “Sounds like the kind of old-time Christmas postcard my ma collects,” he said. “And I can tell you’re pining away for your family.”

  “I don’t normally stay here in the winter,” she said. “But Maggie’s volunteer fell sick, and I took her place. Usually, I’m in Kabul and Bagram from March through September of every year, but I always love being home for the holidays. It’s a chance to be with my family.” She looked over, seeing that Beau understood. “What about you? How does your family celebrate Christmas on Black Mountain?”

  “Oh,” he said, his mouth curving, “it’s not as fancy as your sleigh ride over hill and dale, but another family on the mountain, Dot and Henry Barker, invites everyone over for an old-fashioned hayride. We get a lot of snow, too, and if the weather cooperates, they hitch up their team of Clydesdales to their hay wagon. They invite everyone down to the bottom of the mountain where they live. Each family brings food for a huge banquet. Henry’s a blacksmith, and his wife, Dot, is best friends with my ma. Jason, their son, ran with us growing up. We were tighter than fleas on a dog.” He smiled a little in memory. “He’s now in the Army, and he’s been in Afghanistan. Sometimes, I get to see him. Anyway, the Barker family puts on this shindig about two or three days just before Christmas for everyone. The families living on Black Mountain always look for ways to celebrate life and do things together. Going for that hayride with the Barker family is the highlight of our Christmas celebrations on the mountain.”

  “That sounds wonderful, too,” Callie said softly, feeling encircled by his invisible warmth. Her heart yearned to be closer to him. “I like sharing things like this with you,” she admitted. “I love your stories about Black Mountain and the people who live there.”

  “And,” he said, easing away from the shelf, “that’s why I think you love working for a charity. It’s just a big, noisy, crazy family, too.” He grinned, setting his emptied cup aside.

  Callie didn’t want Beau to leave. She wanted to keep delving into him as a person. “I love talking with you. You always remind me of home and what I’m missing.”

  He smiled a little, settling a cap on his head. “Well, at least you know that next year you’ll be home for Christmas and can be with your family.” As he walked over to her, he lifted his finger, moving a few strands of her red hair behind her ear. Instantly, she felt that tingling pleasure where his finger barely brushed her ear. “Family is everything,” he added. Taking a few steps away from her, he said, “I’d really like to take you to the fanciest restaurant we have on base tonight. Are you game?”

  Callie felt herself drowning in his calm gray gaze. Again, she loved that feeling of protection wrapping around her when he looked at her. “Don’t tell me you dance, too!” she teased.

  “Well, now,” Beau said, “I might try a slow dance or two with you after dinner, but I’m not exactly Mr. Silverheels out there on the dance floor. I was raised on square dancing, which is like a foreign dance to most folks nowadays,” he chuckled.

  “Yes, I’d like to dance.” She saw hope burning in his eyes once more, saw yearning, too, for her. “Okay, a slow dance or two; let’s see how we do.”

  “I’m game if you are,” he said, giving her a lopsided smile. He pointed down at his combat boots. “I truly have two left feet, so we’ll have to be careful. I don’t want to step on your poor toes.”

  It would be a way to be close to him, and Callie felt her lower body clench, grow achy with need. How desperately she wanted that kind of intimacy with Beau.

  “Well,” she said dryly, “let’s take it a step at a time,” and she walked out of the office, hearing him laugh at her intended pun. His laughter vibrated throughout her. Beau pushed every feminine button she owned, and Callie looked forward to tonight and more moments like this. And she knew she’d be tempted by Beau’s masculinity, his longing for her. It would be hard not to take another step toward him. And maybe she should …

  *

  Callie’s nerves were screaming as she looked at herself in the mirror. She knew that Chelsea’s, the most expensive restaurant in Bagram, would cost Beau a lot of money for dinner.

  She smoothed her hand down the long black wool skirt she wore tonight with an apricot silk blouse under a black blazer. The outfit brought out the highlights of her freshly washed hair. There wasn’t much she could do with it because it had a slight curl, but it looked nice tonight, a shining mantle hanging loosely around her shoulders.

  When Callie turned eighteen, her grandmother had given her a family heirloom of earrings, small white pearls set in gold. Her great-grandmother had passed them on, and now she was wearing them. And the choker of white pearls gleaming around her throat was warm and special to Callie. Touching them, she felt beautiful and swore she could feel the love of her family as she wore them tonight.

  Her hands were trembling because she was excited, scared, and torn. Earlier today, she’d seen that Beau had wanted to kiss her after he’d surprised her by placing strands of her red hair behind her ear. It wasn’t anything aggressive, but it was there, as if being gently offered to her for her consideration. The man knew how to fluster a woman, no question. And she was flustered. Her body was hot, hungry, and she ached below, something that was happening more often with Beau. All he had to do was look at her, and she felt herself gr
owing damp.

  She pulled on her black wool hooded coat, picked up her black leather purse and leather gloves, and left her small room. Dara had departed with Matt earlier, and Callie wondered if they were over at the Eagle’s Nest again.

  She admitted it: she was envious of her sister. She’d have loved to be spending time there with Beau. Swallowing, Callie walked down the hall to the door, seeing Beau waiting for her outside.

  Tonight, the sky was clear, the stars glittering in the sky as she opened the door. When she stepped out on the porch, she smiled up at Beau. Tonight he was wearing a suit! It was a dark blue sport coat with a white cotton shirt beneath it, and a conservative blue tie, along with what she thought might be dark blue slacks. “Wow, you clean up well,” she teased, smiling.

  “So do you,” Beau murmured, appreciation in his tone. “I should have made a reservation at Chelsea’s before this,” he added. Beau reached around her and closed the door, making sure it was locked. “Ready for a nice dinner?” he asked, reaching his hand out to her.

  Callie took it, relishing the warmth and strength of his fingers curving around hers. “I am. This is a really nice break for both of us. Kind of reminds me of being back home.”

  “It does for me, too,” he agreed.

  She had come to want his hand in hers. This time, as he descended the stairs, he brought his hand against the small of her back, guiding her down the sidewalk. Callie found herself moving closer to Beau, almost beneath his arm. If he noticed it, and she was sure he didn’t miss a thing, he didn’t take advantage of their closeness. As good as his word, he stayed in control of his emotions.

  Her heart stirred again with need of him, and she felt caught up in the powerful heat they generated whenever they were together. If only she had the courage to do something about it. If only …