Chuckling, Beau said, “Somehow, I already figured out you were a hellion from the time you were born.”
“Well, my mom could sure attest to that. I was the second born, and she thought she had it timed to get to the hospital to birth me. My dad, who’s a surgeon, ended up delivering me in the backseat of our car.”
“It’s that red hair,” he promised her, his heart swelling as she smiled.
“That’s what Dad said.”
“Does your mother have red hair?”
“Yes.” Callie opened her purse and drew out her iPhone, going to her family pictures, turning it around, and handing it to him. “There’s all kinds of family photos there. Help yourself.”
Callie watched his expression carefully as Beau held the iPhone and slowly scrolled through the photos. He turned it around, holding a photo up to her.
“This is you in the first grade?”
“Yep, that’s me. Two front teeth missing.” She laughed.
“You were a very, very cute little girl,” he murmured.
“I wasn’t the classically adorable type like my sister, Dara,” Callie protested. “There were plenty of other girls who were prettier than I was.”
“Impossible,” Beau growled. “You look incredibly beautiful to me.”
Heat streaked up from her neck and settled right into her cheeks. Callie wanted to slide down under the table.
“And I like your blushes,” Beau added, recognizing her embarrassment.
“I was a tomboy,” she admitted. “Dara was the feminine one. All I wanted to do was ride my horse with my grandpa on roundups, gallop in the pastures and be with him and his wranglers. Dara always liked dressing up, using cosmetics, and playing with her hair and nails.” She touched her red strands. “I just wanted to get it out of my way so I could see where I was riding.”
“You’re not a tomboy now,” Beau said, handing her back the phone. “You’re all grown up now and one hundred percent woman. I can barely see those freckles of yours.”
Groaning, Callie said, “I hated those freckles. I can remember how many times I cried, wishing they’d go away. The boys at school called me ‘Spot.’ I was so embarrassed by it.”
“If I’d been there, I’d have taken on those boys and told them never to call you that again, or they’d answer to me.”
Callie believed him. “Have you always been this protective of people you care about, Beau?”
“Yeah, pretty much. I sometimes think that’s the reason I went into Delta Force—to protect the innocent, those who couldn’t defend themselves. My pa drilled into us boys from an early age on that we were protectors. We were stronger than women, more athletic, bigger, and that made us responsible to protect and provide for those we loved and cared for.”
“You certainly do,” Callie agreed, sliding her phone into her purse. She remembered that the only photos he had of his family were taped on the inside of his locker door. Beau wasn’t allowed to carry anything personal on him.
The waitress returned with their meals and they dug in, eating in companionable silence. Callie enjoyed watching Beau eat. He ate quickly, as if starved. She was surprised when, about halfway through his meal, he put some sweet potato fries on her plate.
“For you,” he said.
She met and held his gaze, feeling every nerve in her body yearning for him. Her thighs clenched, and she knew what that meant. How she wanted to kiss Beau, to feel his strong mouth slant across hers, take her, breathe his life into her, infuse her and inflame her with his touch. She knew he would willingly do that and more. So where did sexual need end and a true relationship begin? Callie had never found that place, that was for sure. And Beau was so unique compared to the other men she’d dated that Callie had no yardstick to measure him by. If only she weren’t such a coward. If only she had the equivalent of a set of balls so she could walk into his arms and kiss him until they melted together. If only . . .
“S
eems like you
and Beau are getting along nicely,” Dara said as she and Callie ate breakfast at the chow hall the next morning.
Callie pushed the oatmeal around with her spoon, frowning. “You’re right.”
“Don’t look so happy about it.” Dara smiled over at her. “Why so glum?”
“Because I really like the guy, and I’m fighting it.”
“Why would you do that?”
Callie gave her older sister an impatient look. “For obvious reasons. You know my track record of relationships with military guys. None of them have ever worked out.”
“Maybe he’s different, Callie. I know the little girls at the orphanage idolize him, and kids and dogs aren’t wrong about people.”
Callie concentrated on her hot oatmeal, listening despite herself. “I don’t know. I’m confused, Dara. And scared.”
“Afraid to get hurt again, right?”
She stared over at Dara, whose blond hair was back in a ponytail. “Bingo. I don’t think my heart can take another breakup, to tell you the truth. I don’t want to like him because he’s Army. He’s in a black ops job that leaves a woman hanging and wondering if he’s going to survive the next mission or not.” She pulled the spoon from her mouth and waved it warningly at Dara. “And Matt is in the same line of work. You’re leaving in a few days. You won’t see him for how long?”
“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.