While Streeter carried the boxes in, Olivia got dressed.
And she didn’t immediately demand they open the boxes. She stared at them warily while she ate her cereal. She didn’t ask about them again until after she’d fed Wally. She wandered over to where he sat in the easy chair and climbed into his lap.
He kissed the top of her head. “You ready to see what’s in there?”
She nodded.
Streeter used his pocketknife to cut the tape on the biggest box, which had OPEN ME FIRST printed on the top.
Inside the box was an envelope, which Olivia immediately plucked up and passed to him. “Read it, Daddy.”
“But it’s addressed to you.”
“You read it,” she repeated.
The girlish loops of Bailey’s writing threw him off. He’d expected her handwriting to be more military style.
“Daddy. Read it.”
“Okay.”
Olivia,
Never stop marching to the beat of your own drum.
Love always,
B~
This woman . . .
“I don’t get it,” Olivia said.
“I know you don’t, sweetheart, but you will one day.”
They opened the remaining boxes and Olivia didn’t say a word.
Finally Streeter said, “This is a really nice drum set. A real one. Aren’t you excited?”
She shrugged.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s still better to play the old drums for her than the new drums without her.”
Oh, baby girl. I know exactly what you mean.
* * *
True to her word, Olivia didn’t play her new drum set that night. She didn’t play her old drum set either.
She hadn’t mentioned she missed Bailey, nor did she ask about her, but her silence spoke volumes.
By Monday morning, Streeter had had enough. As soon as Meghan arrived, he woke Ted up and informed him he’d be on the early cattle check. Then he drove out to the Turner Ranch.
His hopes sank a little when he didn’t see Bailey’s SUV.
Bran met him on the porch steps, not Harper. “Streeter. I don’t gotta ask what you’re doin’ here.”
“Where is she? And please, man, don’t say you can’t tell me.”
“I got no issue tellin’ you.” He sipped his coffee. “She’s in Jackson.”
“Jackson Hole?”
“No. Fort Jackson, in Jackson, South Carolina.”
All the blood seemed to leave his head. “Why?”
“Final outprocessing paperwork that she had to be there in person for.”
“When did she leave?”
“Early Saturday mornin’.” Bran held up his hand to stop further questions. “I don’t know when she’ll be done or if she’s comin’ back here.”
“Bullshit.”
“Have you tried getting in touch with her?”
Streeter glared at him.
“Did you march down to her trailer and have it out with her after your big blowup?”
“No.”
“Have you called her since then?”
“No.”
“Texted her at all?”
“No.”
Bran shrugged. “You ain’t makin’ much of an effort, Hale.”
“What do you know about—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there before you really piss me off. I love my sister-in-law. I wouldn’t have the life I do if it hadn’t been for her makin’ a hard choice for both her and Harper years ago. And I know she’s struggled since then. I didn’t know the extent of it until she told me.”
“She told you?”
His jaw tightened. “Yeah. All of it, difficult as that was for her. Believe me when I say there ain’t nothin’ I wouldn’t do for her. So I’m gonna give you some advice. You want her? Go after her with everything you’ve got. She’s fought for her sisters, fought for her place in the world, fought for her country, but she’s never had anyone fight for her. If you can give her the life she wants, the happiness she deserves—the happiness that you both deserve after the sheer amount of shit that life has dealt you both—then prove to her that she’s worth fightin’ for. Show her that she belongs with you and that you can handle what it takes to belong to her.”
Streeter said, “How do I do that?”
Bran clapped him on the shoulder. “Ah, man. This is the sucky part. You gotta figure it out for yourself.”
Streeter walked back to his truck. Before he climbed in, he said, “Once I get there, though, I can call Harper and ask for specifics?”
“I’ll do ya one better, buddy. You can call me.”
* * *
It took an entire day to arrange the details.
Olivia wasn’t nearly as nervous to fly as he was.
Car rented, hotel checked into and then he realized he had no way to get on base. And if he did get on base, the chances were slim he’d be allowed access to the temporary living quarters.
Streeter called Bran in a panic.
Bran pulled out the big guns—aka Liberty clearing the way with a promise of a private Devin McClain show for the base—and here he was. On base. Across from the apartment building where Bailey was staying.
Nervous as fuck.
They waited in the car for an hour before they saw Bailey walking down the sidewalk. Olivia was so excited she almost blew the whole thing. But honestly, he wouldn’t have minded. He was just so damn relieved to see her, even if she lacked that confident military stride as she entered the building.
He waited ten minutes and texted his military liaison for the code to get into the building.
Then they waited another ten minutes before going inside and hanging the banner on the wall across from her room.
Thankfully it was a quiet time of day, so only two people passed them in the hallway, both women, both who sent them a thumbs-up and happy grins.
Heart hammering, he sent her a text.
Miss you ☺
The “. . .” appeared and disappeared twice.
Streeter signaled Olivia.
She began to pound on her snare drum like she was auditioning for Stomp.
Within thirty seconds, the door flew open and there Bailey stood. Her hair pulled into a messy bun, wearing his Big Johnson T-shirt and bike shorts, every inch of her five-foot-two frame vibrating with anger.
It—she—was the single most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Her mouth dropped open. Her gaze went from Olivia, still rat-a-tat-tat-tatting out a drum solo, to the banner between them that proudly exclaimed:
WON’T YOU COME HOME, SERGEANT BAILEY?
“Streeter?”
He couldn’t not touch her. He framed her face in his shaking hands. “I love you, Bailey Masterson. Nothin’ has changed that. Nothin’ you’ve done, nothin’ you’ve not done, nothin’ you thought about doin’, could ever change that. You are it for me. I know you love me, or you wouldn’t have left me for my own good. Sure, we’ve got some stuff to sort out, but I want us to spend the rest of our lives workin’ it out together.”
Bailey’s eyes searched his. “You’re here.”
“I am.”
“And you brought your own marching band.”
“Hey, you bought her the damn drum set.”
She laughed. Even when tears rolled down her beautiful face. “I love you, Skeeter.”
He growled. “I love you too, Barley.”
Then she kissed him.
And his heart finally started beating again . . . or maybe he could finally hear it beating since the drumming had stopped.
“I missed you,” he whispered against her mouth.
“I can tell.” Then she stepped back and faced Olivia. “Hey, little d
rummer girl. I take it you liked my present?”
His bold daughter acted uncertain before she shook her head. “I like playin’ my old drums for you. I told Daddy you’re the only one I’d play these new ones for.”
“So you haven’t practiced?”
“Nope.”
“Wow, girlie. You are a natural.”
Olivia grinned. “I know.”
Bailey laughed. “I can’t wait to hear you play the other ones.”
“So you are comin’ back home with us?”
She crouched down. “You’d be okay with me always living with you, your dad and Wally?”
“Yep. And guess what?”
“What?”
“Daddy said if I was good on this trip, he’d let me get a pet pig when we get back!”
Bailey sent him an amused look. “Oh, really?”
“I said I’d think about it,” Streeter reminded her.
“I’m gonna name him Wilbur. Because then both—”
“Your pet names would start with ‘W.’ I know how important that is to you.”
Olivia said, “So, can I see your dorm?” and walked right inside.
“Maybe we should get out of the hallway.”
Streeter crowded her against the wall. “But first, I gotta know if you love me enough to deal with that for the foreseeable future?”
“Yes. I love you, Streeter.”
“Say it again,” he demanded softly after he kissed her.
“I love you. I love her too. If she ever feels the same way about me . . . I’ll just consider that a bonus. So I hope . . .” She hesitated.
“What, baby?”
“Is she enough for you? Because with my health issues I don’t think I’d handle pregnancy well, and then there’s the chance I’d pass lupus on to our child.”
Streeter locked his gaze to hers. “I love you. I want you. I’d never ask you to jeopardize your health and then watch you live with the guilt if you did pass the condition on to a child. So yes, Olivia is enough. Plus, livin’ in Wyoming, we’ll have plenty of chances to help out with our siblings’ kids.”
“True.”
He tipped her chin back up. “What else? Although we don’t gotta deal with everything right this second.”
“I know. It’s just . . . I have no idea what I’ll end up doing jobwise, postmilitary. I’ve had a job since I was twelve years old, Street. I don’t know how to be idle.”
“Maybe it’s time you learn.” He brushed a tear from the corner of her eye. “Here’s where I remind you that we’re currently building a house. Olivia is startin’ school. I’ll be workin’ full-time with our cattle company. And you’ll still be helpin’ Harper as well as finishing that phone app. I don’t see that you’ll have a lot of downtime. Contributing to a household ain’t just throwin’ money in the family coffers, hot thing.”
“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, Streeter Hale, but I promise I’ll work every day to keep our family happy.”
“That’s all I ever wanted.”
“Hey,” Olivia shouted from inside the room, “I think I can see our rental car from here! Does this window open?”
“Yeah, we’ll definitely have our hands full with her.”
* * *
Later that night, after Olivia had finally fallen asleep midsentence, Streeter took Bailey into the hotel bathroom and showed her just how much he’d loved her and missed her.
Then they’d filled the big hotel bathtub so they could stay naked and twined together longer.
Surrounded by warm water and an even warmer woman, Streeter was so content that he’d started to float away in body and mind.
“Street?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“I know you still have questions about the conversation you overheard between me and Harper.”
And . . . he was wide awake again.
“I’ll answer them as honestly as I can. To start off, maybe it seems obvious, but my perspective toward an incident that I’ve tried like hell to forget isn’t the same now as it was back then.” She paused. “And what I went through isn’t meant to help you understand what Danica might’ve been dealing with. That’s not me being self-centered or flip.”
“I know. I had to accept I’ll never understand what Danica was going through.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “I’ve also accepted that I’m different now. I’m strong enough for you to lean on. You can show me those dark corners of yourself and I’ll help you shine a light on them, deal with them, chase them the fuck away without you havin’ to fear that I’ll abandon you when you need me the most. Ain’t happenin’, sweetheart. Ever.”
Her silent tears dampened his chest. “Thank you.”
“So we’ll stay right here all damn night if we have to, if that’s what you need.”
Several moments passed before she spoke again. “When I don’t have my thoughts on lockdown and I actually allow them to return to that night it’s like some bizarre nightmare I’m watching happen to someone else. But then I realize I am awake and it happened to me. I chose to smuggle a gun into my quarters with the intent of ending my life.” She smoothed her palm across his chest. “To be blunt, the question of why that haunts me has changed from ‘what if my roommate hadn’t shown up when she did?’ to ‘what traumatic life event would drive me to consider that as an option again?’”
“Is there an answer?”
“No. But I’m not expecting one. I’m just waiting for the question to change again, because it will.” She played with his chest hair. “That’s how I can deal with it as a past event. Change, acceptance, growth is crucial to survival. Before I met you, I had no choice but to handle it all on my own—the mental and the physical aspects. So it’s really fucking hard for me to say, but from here on out I want to be an open book for you. My counselor here on base has helped me a lot. The counselor I was seeing in Casper, not so much.”
“So when you told me seein’ a counselor was ‘an army thing’?”
“Not entirely untrue. The army required counseling after an ‘intent to self-harm’ incident. But yeah, I could’ve been clearer about that.” She snorted. “Kind of like how clear my Casper counselor was when she saw me waiting for Olivia that day I took Olivia to her appointment, and took me aside to have a chat about you.”
His stomach tied in a knot. “Jesus, were you’n me seein’ the same counselor?”
“No. But it’s a shared medical practice, Street. They’re familiar with each other’s cases. She had no issue warning me off a relationship with you. Even a temporary one.”
“Baby. I hate that you didn’t tell me this because I sure as fuck would’ve given that woman a piece of my mind the next time I took Olivia to her appointment.” He squeezed her tighter. “I imagine that run-in just cemented your decision not to tell me about your past.”
“Yep. So I’ll be looking for a new counselor when we get back.” Her hand stilled. “Counseling is a long-term therapy for me. Otherwise, I’d never look inward, and I refuse to let a past mistake dictate fear about how I live my future.”
“Have I mentioned that I love you?” he murmured.
Streeter felt her smile against his chest. “A time or two.”
A few moments passed where they were each lost in their own thoughts. But the air wasn’t thick with tension. Clearing away the half-truths would take time, but for the first time, Streeter felt she trusted him completely. “Thank you for tellin’ me.”
Bailey tilted her head back and looked at him. “From here on out, Streeter, I promise you’ll never have to wonder what I’m feeling because I’ll tell you.” Her teary-eyed gaze searched his face. “I love you. I won’t run away because it’s easier for me and better for you. I’ll stay. I’ll stay and fight with you. For you. For us.”
“Same goes.”
After that, their conversation lightened. They decided after Bailey finished her final paperwork, they’d surprise Olivia with a trip to the ocean and other touristy family vacation things before they headed back to Wyoming and Olivia started school next week.
They’d drifted back into the not-talking-at-all portion of the discussion, with Streeter on his knees with his head buried between Bailey’s thighs, Bailey’s whimpers escalating the closer she got to orgasm, when four hard raps sounded on the bathroom door.
They both froze.
Good thing he’d locked the bathroom door because as Streeter had predicted, Olivia tried to get in before she resorted to pounding to be let in.
“Daddy? Is Bailey in there with you?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I just wanted to make sure she hadn’t left again.”
Bailey’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m here, girlie. I’m not going anywhere ever again. Your dad is just . . . ah . . . helping me wash my hair. It’s kind of a mess.”
Streeter snickered against her thigh and she whapped him on the head.
“Okay,” Olivia said with a sigh. “I’ll just practice my drumming until you guys come out.”
Drumming. In a hotel. At midnight.
Shit.
They both scrambled out of the tub and dried off.
“See? She’s definitely gonna be enough for both of us for years to come.”
Bailey kissed his chin. “I can’t wait.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
One month later . . .
FROM THE MUDDY GAP GAZETTE—MISS MAYBELLE’S MUSINGS
Former Sergeant Bailey Masterson was the guest of honor at a surprise retirement party on Sunday night at the Split Rock Ranch and Resort. Co-hosting couples were Harper and Bran Turner of Muddy Gap, and Liberty and Devin Hollister (Devin is best known by his stage name, Devin McClain) of Denver.
Friends and family gathered around the newest returnee to the Muddy Gap area. When asked how she planned to spend her retirement, Bailey answered she’d been too busy helping out her family to look for other work.
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