She sighed, closing her eyes, whispering, “Don’t ever stop kissing me like that, Beau. My knees . . .” She opened her eyes and laughed a little, embarrassed. “My knees feel weak!”
Pride moved through him. Beau desperately wanted to love her so thoroughly she would never want to consider another man in her life. “Well,” he growled, sliding his arm around her waist, guiding her toward the passenger side of the truck, “I can’t have you falling down, can I?”
“No,” she said, smiling warmly up at him. “You can’t. Tonight we trim the family Christmas tree. I’m so happy you’re here, Beau,” she added, her voice bubbling with joy.
He opened the door for her, helping her climb in. Callie still cradled that right arm and continued to be protective of it. “I’m looking forward to it, too,” he told her.
On the way back, Beau drove slowly because the gravel road was heavy with ice and snow. “Tell me about your family Christmas tree trimming party.”
She smiled, taking off her gloves. “I always volunteered to make the long strings of popcorn to hang around the tree. When Dara was here, she got the job of putting bulbs on the tree along with Mom and Grandma.”
“And your granddad? What does he do?”
“Oh, he’s so tall he can easily string the lights around the top of the tree,” she said.
“Sounds a lot like what our family does,” he confided, smiling over at her. She had taken off her red knit cap, her hair loose, giving her a wild, natural look. There was no more tension in her face, and Beau was grateful. He’d had just one kiss. One. And he wanted so many more with her.
“You said your brothers, Coy and Jackson, were home now on Christmas leave?”
“Yeah. My pa will go out with them and they’ll find the right tree. Ma makes peanut brittle while we’re gone. It’s a nice dessert to come home to.”
“Sounds really yummy,” Callie agreed. “What then?”
“Well, we trim the tree. Ma kept all our little-kid efforts from grade school. You know how you always had classes around Christmas where you made things to hang or wrap around the tree?”
“Yep,” she laughed, “I do. My mother has all our attempts in special boxes. She doesn’t hang them, but she said they’re there for each of us. We’ll get our box when we get married. She told us when we have children, we can then show them how to make their own ornaments for the trees we’ll be trimming as a family.” She sighed. “Dara and I always dreamed of getting married and having families.”
“You sound sad.”
“Dara’s twenty-nine and I’m twenty-seven. We’re getting up there as far as getting pregnant. I sure wouldn’t want to be pregnant at forty.”
His mouth twitched. “I think Matt is going to ask Dara to marry him on Christmas Day.”
“No!” Callie gasped, turning toward him, her eyes huge. “Seriously, Beau? Is that what he told you?”
“Yep.” Beau’s smile grew. “He knows it’s too soon, but he’s going to give Dara a set of rings that belonged to his Turkish grandmother. He was a favorite of hers, and she asked that the rings be given to Matt after she passed.”
“That’s so wonderful,” Callie whispered. “Dara deserves that kind of happiness.”
Beau held her teary gaze. “So do you, gal.” And if he had anything to say or do about it, he was going to get this stubborn redheaded wench of his to marry him.
Callie sat back, frowning. “I thought I knew what I wanted out of life, Beau. I was very happy being a volunteer for the Hope Charity.”
“But you’re changing your mind?” Beau was beginning to see the array of changes that the ambush had made in Callie.
He drove the pickup into the main parking area of the ranch and then around the homestead. The cabin sat about five hundred feet away from it.
“I’m changing,” she admitted, her brows moving down as she studied her hands, which were clasped in her lap. “I’m not sure about much of anything right now, to be honest. I feel like I’m making a major transition, and I’m in it and can’t see where I’m going.”
“It’s too soon to sort this all out, gal,” he reassured her as he parked the truck and turned off the engine. He opened his seat belt and placed his arm behind her slumped shoulders. Callie was cycling down again. He was damned glad he could pick up those subtle changes in her. “You had a life-changing experience, Callie. And it takes time to figure out how it’s going to affect how you see yourself and your world.” He moved his hands lightly down her unruly red hair, its silken strands always drawing him close so he could touch it.
“And you know this how?”
He drew in a deep breath and said, “The first time I got shot, it shattered me in ways I couldn’t possibly imagine, Callie. I almost bled to death out in the field because it hit a pretty major artery even though it was classified as a flesh wound. Some major arteries are real close to the skin. Luckily, we had a great medic and he saved my life. I thought”—he looked down at her—“I was invincible. I never really thought about dying, even though I was in one of the most dangerous fields in the military. It just hadn’t crossed my mind.”
He saw her eyes lighten a little. Beau was beginning to understand that he needed to share from his own experience in order for Callie to open up to him. “I lay in a hospital bed recovering and having a lot of time on my hands to think about the what-ifs. Suddenly, life became a lot more precious to me. I began appreciating little things, things we take for granted every day. I became closer to my parents and my two younger brothers. Everything I loved in my life became more dear to me.”
“That’s what is happening to me, Beau. Exactly.”
He gave her a sad smile. “Yes, the symptoms of healing are the same. You nearly die or think you’re going to die, and your world order gets shaken up. You begin to question the career that got you into this fix in the first place. I’d only been in Delta Force for a year when I got wounded. I talked to Matt about it. He’s very wise, and he told me to take it slow and not make any sudden, knee-jerk decisions. He even suggested I make a couple of lists. One list was what was important to me. And the other was things I used to think were important to me but weren’t anymore. He said to throw out the last list and only keep what was important to me from now on.”
“And now that you’ve been wounded a second time?”
“It’s making me review everything again, gal.” He grazed her cheek with his fingertips. “And you’re going through the same lists I am. We need to compare our lists when we feel it’s right.”
C
hristmas music played
in the background as the McKinley family went about trimming their ten-foot-tall Colorado blue spruce in one corner of the ranch living room. With the high ceilings, Beau thought the Christmas tree went well with the floor-to-ceiling fieldstone fireplace now roaring with flames, warming the entire first floor of the huge cedar-log home.
Stacy and Connor McKinley were bringing out boxes of ornaments from the attic. Beau, because he was tall like Graham McKinley, had been assigned the job of placing the lights on the tree. He kept an eye on Callie, who was sitting at the granite island stringing long lines of popcorn for a final touch. Everyone was feeling warm and happy, just as a family should.
Maisy was in charge of the mulled red wine simmering with cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves along with thick, fresh slices of oranges floating on top. There was also dark, rich hot chocolate for those who didn’t want to imbibe alcohol. Maisy had also made Christmas cookies earlier, hand-decorated each one, and put them on a huge green platter on the granite island next to the drinks.
Beau was impressed with how strong the spirit of Christmas ran in this family. But he couldn’t deny that all this activity made him homesick. He knew his family would be trimming their tree any day now, and let’s face it—he hadn’t been home for the holidays in three years.
Well, maybe he’d make it next year. Still, being able to share this season with Callie made up for everything. Since their kiss on his arrival, she had become less anxious and nervous, and Beau wished he could find out what was going on inside that gorgeous head of hers. Slowly, she was allowing him entrance into her deeper thoughts, and that was good for both of them.
As he and Graham slowly worked the lights around the tree, Beau decided to talk quietly with Callie’ grandfather. “Sir? Has Callie always kept her feelings inside her?”
Graham, who wore jeans and a dark green, long-sleeved shirt with a black leather vest, nodded. “Yes, she’s pretty much an ‘inny.’” When he saw Beau’s confused expression, he said, “Callie’s an extrovert, for sure, but when it comes to her emotions, she hides them from everyone. She’s always been that way, from the day she was born.”
Grimacing, Beau made sure their voices couldn’t be heard by anyone else as they slowly walked a string of lights around the middle of the tree branches. “How do I get them out of her?”
Chuckling, Graham said, “That’s the big question, son. The only thing her parents found worked was to keep asking her a lot of questions.”
“Why does she hide herself like that?”
“I don’t know. Dara isn’t like that at all.” Graham looked across the massive room. “I think Callie takes after her father, Connor. He’s pretty introverted by nature and stopped up emotionally, too.”
Grunting, Beau nodded. “In some ways, she reminds me of an operator.”
“Yes, hide everything and keep on moving,” Graham agreed. He leaned down and brought up the next string, plugging it into the last one. “You making any headway with her since going over to the cabin?”
“Some,” Beau said. “But it’s a slow process.”
“Callie’s stubborn on all fronts. Not that she can help it. It’s just the way she is. Being like that can give you a lot of enduring strength, but when you hit a brick wall like she has, it confuses her, and she doesn’t know what to do with all those emotions charging up through her. So she sits on ’em.”
Beau couldn’t disagree. “I see a difference if I get her outdoors and doing something.”
“Yes, as a little girl growing up here, she was an outdoors type. Dara, less so. But Callie had so much energy to burn off, she was always helping me or the wranglers with our normal daily duties.” Graham and he had moved behind the tree and the large window, out of view of the rest of the family. He halted and turned to Beau. “Keep getting her outside and working. Clean stalls. Go for horseback rides. I can take both of you with me when we load the hay on the tractor-trailer to go feed the cattle. She’ll do better when she’s got a physical outlet. And it looks like her arm is doing better.”
“It’s still tender and she can’t use it for much, but yes, it’s better,” Beau told him.
“We’re going to have good weather for the next five days, so be thinking of ways to get Callie out of that cabin and into the fresh air.”
Nodding, Beau said, “I will, sir. Thank you.”
*
Callie smiled as
Beau wandered over and stood at her left shoulder, watching her stringing the popcorn. “Got the lights strung on the tree?”
“Yep. Your granddad is an ace at it. He made it easy.”
“He’s only got fifty years of doing it,” she said, smiling.
“Want some mulled wine? Smells good,” Beau said, lifting his nose. Callie had chosen a gold sweater that had glittering silver threads gleaming through it, which brought out the beauty of her face and her sea-green eyes. She’d worn jeans and calf-high black leather boots. Beau had a tough time keeping his hands off her.
“That sounds good,” Callie murmured. She watched Beau move with that casual grace of his. The fit of his blue chambray shirt and jeans made her yearn for him, and she remembered how he looked without clothing—even better than with them, and that was saying a lot!
There was a quiet confidence and ease to Beau that she appreciated so much. Every time she looked at his hands, she wanted him to touch her, explore her, and she found herself thinking almost constantly about how it had felt making love to him. After their kiss at the door, she knew that she wanted to feel him close again, as close as possible. She just didn’t know when.
Meanwhile, being around him all the time was giving her the stability and calm she needed right now. He was like an unobtrusive shadow moving in between her family members, never disturbing the energy or what was going on. She supposed it was his black ops background. Beau was just like her grandpa, or vice versa. Callie swore they came from the same mold and began to wonder more about her grandfather’s military experience. He never talked about it.
“Here you go,” Beau said, sliding over a white mug steaming with the mulled wine in it. He took a stool next to her, his cup in his hand.
“Thanks.” She took a tentative sip. “Mmm, my mother makes the best mulled wine, doesn’t she?”
“I’ve never tasted it before,” Beau admitted, “but it’s good. I like the orange flavor in it.” He eyed the strings of popcorn. “Looks like you’re making good headway with that.”
She smiled and looked at the strings she’d laid out, ready to be put on the tree. “I’m an old hand at this. When Dara was here, she and I would do this together.”
“Do you miss her right now?”
Shrugging, Callie picked up the mug, absorbing Beau’s nearness. “I know she’s happy having Matt with her. Plus his family is flying in for the holidays.” She gave him a tender look. “I feel like I’ve already been given the best Christmas present ever: you.” She saw Beau’s cheeks go ruddy and he became almost bashful for a moment as she felt him take her sincere compliment into his heart. In that moment, Callie realized just how sensitive he could be and that as a Delta operator, he had never shown this side to her. Reaching over, she grazed his shaven jaw. “Really, you are a gift to me, Beau.”