Her response was immediate—warm and grateful.
“You’ve been a wonderful friend to me.” She grew sober. “I’m going to miss you terribly when you have to leave, Ram. Who will I have to talk to like this after you’re gone?”
“Call me,” he urged. “Did you give Wyatt a time frame for coming to work at Artemis?”
“He’s made it clear he’d like to hire me. He said he wants me in the Mission Planning department, with you. There’s so much going on in Mexico that he wants my contacts and all the asset intel I’ve gleaned over the years down there. He even offered me a huge starting salary, Ram. I thought I heard him wrong the first time he mentioned it.”
“I started out at two-hundred-thousand a year,” he confided.
She gave him a startled look. “That’s what he’s offering me! That’s twice the amount a security contractor usually gets out in the real world.”
“Artemis hires only the best,” he told her seriously, “and they’re willing to pay their people the highest salaries in the industry without blinking an eye. So, when are you coming back for the official meeting with him?”
“I told him I wanted to wait until Tyler gets here to replace you, and then see how Cara’s adjusting to him for two or three weeks after that. He said the job is open and there’s no drop-dead date for when I have to take it. Wyatt is a stand-up dude. He’s sensitive and family oriented, thank goodness.”
“Yeah, he really is and so is his wife, Tal. They’ve made Artemis a family-friendly company. I think you’ll like working there with all of us, Ali.”
She studied him, giving him a sad look. “I’ll miss you, though, dammit.”
“At least we aren’t fighting anymore,” he noted. “And who knows? Maybe in a month, you’ll be back East to take the job. By then, you’ll be looking for a place to live and I’d be happy to help you with that.”
“I’d love your help, Ram. Thanks.”
“I had another idea.”
“Uh, oh,” she laughed, “What now?”
“Well,” he hedged, “about three weeks ago, you showed me your collection of horses in your room. I never realized how much you loved riding horses until then.”
“It was one of those things I learned as a kid. When my father worked at a large farm outside of Tucson, they had horses. I was riding with him from the age of three, and both Cara and I always had horses available to us. We used to ride like wild children around that five-thousand-acre pecan farm, flying up and down the tops of the huge water ditches around it. I loved riding bareback, feeling the wind tearing at me as we galloped around.”
“I like hearing about your younger years,” he murmured. “So here’s my idea. You were looking really tired the other day because Cara’s been leaning heavily on you. So I called up a stable south of Tucson, in Tubac. They offer half-day picnic rides out to the Santa Rita Mountains, which are nearby. We can rent the horses and either ride with a guide or ride by ourselves. I’d like to take you on a picnic-lunch ride to a place called Cottonwood Canyon. Would you like that?” He instantly saw a gleam of excitement flare in her gold eyes. Yeah, he’d pushed her buttons all right and he couldn’t help but grin.
“That would be terrific! When did you want to do it?”
“How about this Friday? Your mother is home all day and Cara will have someone here with her. We’ll only be about an hour from Tucson if Cara needs us.”
“I think she’s steady enough to deal with us being gone half a day,” Ali said. “Cara’s climbing back up again, getting more stable. It’ll probably last four or five days, and she likes us to take some time off when she’s in that cycle. She’s becoming more sensitive to other people, and she knows we need a break. I believe she’ll be fine about us going, but I’ll ask her and make sure.”
“Cara’s doing very well,” Ram agreed. “I know she has setbacks, but with the kind of support she has around her, she’s getting stronger each day.”
“Then, let’s do it! I’m so excited! It’s been ten years since I last threw a leg over a horse, Ram. A half-day ride is going to have me walking like a wishbone afterward.”
He laughed at the imagery. “Okay, I’ll make the reservation. We’ll have to pack our own lunch.”
“Leave it to me. I already have some great stuff for a picnic.”
“Sounds good,” he agreed.
“Okay, Ram, I’m going to go see if Cara is available. I need to see what she thinks of our plan.”
“Good luck!” Ram watched her slide off the stool, turn, and quickly take the concrete steps up to the kitchen. She disappeared inside and quietly closed the door behind her.
He absorbed her child-like excitement, privy to yet another facet she’d never revealed before. There was something touching and beautiful about Ali blossoming, opening one petal at a time, in front of him. Her trust in him was deep now.
Ram knew his own trust wasn’t there yet, but he was slowly moving forward. Ali deserved only the truth from him and that was what he was hedging on. How could he ever tell her the truth of his pseudo family? His childhood? Ram cautioned himself to allow things to continue to just organically unfold between them. This wasn’t something he could time or rush.
Like everything else they had revealed to one another, it had just naturally happened and it felt right at the time.
Worry seeped into him. If he did share with Ali about his young life, how would she react? The shame and humiliation was still with him to this day, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. Now, with their feelings deepening and growing into a stronger relationship, honesty was the only path for him to take with her. He wouldn’t shy away from the truth about what had happened to him, but it scared the hell out of him to even talk about it to her. He was afraid of Ali judging him.
How would she see him afterward? He agonized. She might no longer see him as the consummate hero he wanted to be for her. Ram couldn’t stop himself when it came to protecting Ali. Sure, he knew she could defend herself, but dammit, this instinctive urge to protect her came from so deep within, he couldn’t tell where it started or ended.
Turning to happier thoughts, he hoped that Cara would give them the green light to go on the horseback ride and picnic. He really liked Ali’s sister and admired her spirit in tackling this terrible trauma.
He’d never met anyone quite like her before, but then, the military drew people who already had a lot of inner strength, reserve, and endurance—like Ali and himself.
His memories surfaced. All the women in the brothel were strong and resilient fighters, too. But the ones who had cared for him, who had raised him, had hearts of gold beneath that rhino hide. They knew how to nurture him, hold him, and smother him with kisses until he giggled and tried to escape their cuddling. But he’d loved every second of it, starved for genuine human touches, embraces, and affection that didn’t happen that often, but he wished it had.
Those were strong women, unlike Cara. He would never forget any of those wonderful women, especially Mazzie, whom he’d considered his “true” mother. She loved him more fiercely than anyone else at the brothel, and had protected him with that mother-bear personality of hers. Yet, she could instantly melt and become loving and caring when he desperately needed it.
In some ways, Ram thought Ali had a lot of Mazzie’s attributes. She was a fierce warrior, too, but when they went into the Afghan villages and she was around the babies and children, Ali had melted into a wonderful, warm mother hen. He’d seen the children turn on like little light bulbs in her presence, their eyes shining as she took as many as she could into her opening embrace. Then, she’d squeeze the daylights out of them until they all shrieked and giggled with laughter.
Love transcended any tongue. It was a universal language, as Ram had discovered. Those kids had all loved Ali, and waited to see if the next SEAL team coming in to help them included her. If it didn’t, they pouted, sulked, and asked some of the SEALs where Ali was. They didn’t realize she was only with Wya
tt’s team, and not the others who cruised through their area.
Ali made him feel good, just as she had the kids. Oh, she had only kissed him once, and they had only embraced each other a few times, but her smile was urging his heart to open.
Now, she was beaming the same affectionate smile she had shared with the Afghan children, just for him, and he felt bathed in its sunlight. The closer they became, the more Ali smiled and the wall lowered between them. Her curving lips lifted him, fed him hope, and promised him a dream he could never see coming true. But he dreamed it anyway.
CHAPTER 7
November 10
Tucson, AZ
Ali halted at Cara’s open door, knocking lightly on it as she peeked inside. Her sister was sitting in her rocking chair in the corner, knitting. Her black hair, slightly curled at the ends, fell around her shoulders, framing her face. Ali looked for signs of stress first, around Cara’s shapely mouth and at the corners of her dark brown eyes. To Ali’s relief, she looked at peace for once.
“Want some company?” she asked, standing in the doorway.
Cara lifted her heart-shaped face, giving Ali a warm look of welcome. “Sure, come on in. Look, I’m knitting this for Alberto, my little six-year-old at the kindergarten. His favorite color is red. What do you think?”
“I think you’re a genius at knitting,” Ali said honestly. “When Mama taught us when we were ten, you took to it. I was a flop at it.” Ali came over and touched the proffered, half-finished red sweater. “It feels so soft! I’m sure he’ll love getting this.” Ali knew that every year, Cara knitted a new sweater for each of her children at school because they tended to outgrow the old ones very quickly. Their families could never afford sweaters of this quality. Most of them were illegal immigrants, and work was hard to find. They lived in the shadows of sprawling Tucson, going to food missions weekly to supplement their diets.
“Alberto’s growing like a weed,” Cara sighed. “Such a beautiful young boy with black hair and lovely, brown doe-like eyes.” Her knitting needles flew back and forth, creating another row on the nearly finished sweater.
Ali sat down on the edge of the bed. On bad days, Cara looked disheveled, her bed remained unmade, her hair uncombed, and she didn’t take care of herself. Those were the days when Ali knew depression had captured her spirit.
Today, she wore lightweight, tan wool slacks and a pretty white, long-sleeved blouse with a Victorian lace collar, showing off her beauty, her slender, long neck and the golden hue of her skin. “You must have had a good night’s sleep,” Ali guessed.
“Yes. I only woke up once and then I fell right back to sleep. No nightmares, no dreams, Ali. I feel so lucky.” She stopped knitting, folding her hands in her lap across the sweater. “And you know what? Today I really feel like going back to work. I just figured out I need something to distract me from my own imagination. If I go back to Delos Charity Kindergarten, I can focus on my children, not myself.”
“There’s some wisdom in doing that,” Ali agreed, surprised and hopeful to hear Cara’s thoughts about returning to work. “But are you up to a full day of teaching, yet?”
“I don’t know.” Cara studied Ali. “On a good day, I could do it. On a bad one, I barely have the energy to crawl out of bed. What’s your and Ram’s experience with PTSD? Is a month too early after a trauma to go back to work?” She held Ali’s somber gaze.
“Delos has hired a substitute teacher until you can come back, Cara. What I’d do if it feels right to you, is to start with half a day and see how you hold up. And on a bad day call in the substitute teacher. I’m sure Dilara Culver, the owner of Delos, will understand. She’s been wonderful and caring. She has three adult children; all of them were in the military and all saw combat. She knows how PTSD can affect a person, and deals with it all the time in her own family.”
“And that’s why I think she was kind enough to send Ram out here to be my guard dog.”
“Well,” Ali said, “getting kidnapped in the middle of the city you were born in, in broad daylight, makes a person pretty jumpy. Dilara wants a personal security guy with you wherever you go for a while, even if you decide to bike or drive to school instead of walk. That security contractor will be with you at the school and during your commute to and from work.”
“Which,” she whispered, “looks so daunting to me, Ali. I’m afraid to walk outside that door. It’s loco! It’s just crazy. My mind knows better, but emotionally all I want to do is hide in a corner and cry at the thought of leaving the safety of Mama and Papa’s home.”
Reaching out, Ali touched Cara’s small, delicate hand. “I know, and in time, those fears will recede and you’ll push through them and get to where you want to go. It’s something you need to overcome, and you’re getting there, Cara. I see your progress every day.”
“I thought about speaking to Ram about taking next steps, like trying to start going outside.”
“I’ve got some news about Ram,” Ali saw the opportunity to give Cara the latest news. “His boss needs him back in Alexandria in seven days, Cara.” She held up her hand, seeing Cara’s eyes widen with fear. “It’s okay, don’t worry.” She added quickly, “He’s sending a replacement contractor, a guy Ram and I both know, to take his place. His name is Tyler Hutton, and he’ll be here with you.” She saw Cara’s face fall with disappointment.
“But,” Cara stammered, “there’s no one better than Ram. You’ve said so yourself. He makes me feel so safe,” her voice thinned out and she looked away, brows drawing together.
Keeping her voice neutral, knowing this change would upset her sister, Ali said, “Ram is going to be sent Tyler’s photo and résumé, and you can read through it and evaluate how you feel about him. If you don’t feel there’s a good vibe between you, Wyatt will pick someone else until you’re completely satisfied with the replacement. Delos Charity wants you happy and feeling safe, Cara. They want you to heal up so that you can go back to what you love doing: teaching kindergarten children. What’s most important here is that you feel comfortable with the operator who’s guarding you. Okay?”
Instantly, she saw Cara’s expression grow calmer. Ali knew that sudden changes to the status quo could seem like impossible challenges to overcome. But it couldn’t be helped and she wanted to be the one to break the news to her. Ram had urged her outdoors on a number of occasions, working with her, helping her to gain her confidence. They got along well with one another. And Ali could see her sister idolized Ram. He was so self-confident, quiet, and listened to her without interruption. All those traits had combined in Cara’s mind to lean heavily on Ram. Now, he was going to have to leave.
She watched Cara begin to knit again, fingers trembling. How badly she wished she could help Cara, but this was something she was going to have to deal with alone. Soon enough, she’d be gone too, but Ali wasn’t bringing that up to Cara today. Losing Ram was upsetting enough.
“How does Ram feel about this, Ali?”
“Honestly, he doesn’t mind doing PSD work, but this is not his real job with Artemis. He’s doing it because I asked him to be here with you. He was the one who led the rescue to get all of you out of that fortress.”
Ali wasn’t going to give herself any credit because what she did was top secret and her sister could never know the full extent of her involvement in getting her set free.
“Oh,” she murmured, giving her a quick glance. “I guess he’s a leader and he’s probably feeling pretty antsy about getting back to doing what he loves to do.”
“Not exactly,” Ali countered. “He works with Wyatt Lockwood on creating missions to help other people in similar situations like yours. He’s their Senior Analyst for Central America. There’s a lot of activity with Delos Charities in that part of the world.”
“So if others are in trouble, he’s sent to free them, like he did for the four of us?”
Giving her a proud look, Ali nodded. “You catch on fast, Cara.” It was the first time that she’d thought
about others in that mission, showing Ali that she was coming out from beneath the worst of her shock. When a person started thinking about others, it was a good sign.
Cara managed a one-shouldered shrug. “I know you’ve never shared much about your military life because it was top secret. I’m sure Ram’s is the same.”
“It is.”
“That was so nice of Ram to do this for me. I didn’t realize any of this. He’s really put himself out there for me.”
“He’s got a big heart,” Ali agreed, loving her sister for trying to stretch beyond her own issues to see others and the responsibilities they carried. Cara had never been selfish. Just the opposite, and Ali was seeing more and more of her sister’s old self come back every day, even if Cara didn’t.
“Do you know how Ram looks at you when you aren’t aware of it?” Cara asked suddenly.
Ali’s eyes widened in surprise. “What are you talking about?”
Smiling coyly, Cara said, “You don’t know, do you?”
Raising a brow, Ali held on to her impatience. “Know what? What do you see that I don’t?” Cara was highly sensitive to her surroundings and always had been. She was good at reading body language, voice intonation, and was a facial expression translator with her kindergarten children. She used these abilities with great success when working with her young charges.
Ali had the same set of skills, probably through their mother’s genes, because she was “scary psychic,” but in her case, she used them in a very different environment to stay alive.
“When I’m in the living room, usually at night after dinner, and Mama and Papa are sitting and watching the news, you and Ram clean up the table and kitchen afterward for them. Sometimes,” and she stopped knitting for a moment, “when you don’t realize it, Ram looks at you. I’ve caught him doing it at least four times in the last two weeks.”
“Looking at me how?” Ali demanded, frowning. She saw a small smile pull at Cara’s lips.
“Like a man who loves a woman and wants her. That’s the look I see in his eyes and for a split second, in his expression, and then it’s gone.”
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