“So you’re a Navy SEAL?”
“No.” He shook his head with a laugh. “Those guys just needed me for something.” He sounded as vague as any Special Ops guy. “I’m fresh out of hospital corpsman school and Marine acclamation,” he said of the mini boot camp the Marines put the Navy through because the two cultures were very different. “I’m here with you guys, the Marines.”
They talked for the next half hour.
He was a year younger than her. He was smart, really smart. He had aspirations of becoming a doctor. And had enrolled in a Navy program that was paying his college tuition and would pay for med school. Of course, it required a commitment of several more years to the military. But he seemed to have it all figured out.
She wished she were that together.
“So will you have dinner with me?” He nodded toward the chow hall. “Best place around for dinner and a movie.”
The only place. “If they don’t need me anymore today, I think I’m going to skip dinner and take a nap. Some other time maybe? Today’s my son’s birthday. We had a Skype chat scheduled for one in the morning our time, two-thirty in the afternoon his time.”
After the party. She’d miss being there for the presents and the cake and candles. But this way he wouldn’t miss out on his own party when Mom dropped in.
If she napped until midnight rations she would have just enough time to eat midrats and get to the computers for her scheduled chat.
“Tomorrow night, then?”
“Sure, why not?”
They set a time to meet up tomorrow that wouldn’t interfere with her Skype schedule. She watched him walk away.
“Mmm-mmm-mmm,” Maria said. “I bet he looks just as good coming as he does going.”
“Shut up.” Angela choked back a giggle. “You have such a potty mouth. He’s just being friendly. He’s from my hometown. His brother was my recruiter. And that’s all there is to it.”
“Sarge says we just have to return the truck to the motor pool and can call it a day.”
“You, and you!” a mud-spattered Marine bellowed at them while climbing out of a Humvee. “You’re coming with me.”
“We have to return this truck,” Romano said.
“You!” He pointed at a guy passing by. “Return this truck to the motor pool.” He took the keys from Angela and tossed them over.
“Hey, I’m signed out for that—”
“I’ve already cleared it with your CO. I need two females in full gear, now. You two are in full gear.” The back door of the Humvee opened from the inside. “You waiting for an invitation? Get in!”
Angela picked up her weapon, put on her helmet and moved toward the vehicle. Up close, she could see those weren’t mud spatters covering his uniform.
They were dried blood spatters.
This was not going to be fun. Hoorah!
IT WAS AFTER TWO IN THE morning Wyoming time.
Ryder had fallen asleep on the couch around ten. Hatch had tried to sleep and couldn’t. Being at the disposal of the military as she was, there were a million reasons why Angela might have missed their chat.
But twelve hours and no word on her son’s birthday? As she’d once pointed out, Hatch was a worst-case-scenario thinker, and that fact was keeping him awake and pacing tonight.
He decided to check his email one last time and then call it a night. He’d been sending her hourly updates of his status in case she checked in online.
Hatch sat down at the desk in his den. Even though he preferred being outdoors, he still had books to keep for his small cattle operation, and had set up a nice home office.
Nothing from Angela, rescheduling. And Skype still showed her status as being off-line.
He was reluctant to shut the window down even now.
So he got out the scratch pad where he’d been doing his thinking. Stew had given him a lot to ponder today. Hatch’s return to Two Forks Ranch was supposed to have been temporary. And now look at him. He was about as settled in at the ranch as a man could get.
After thirteen years of traveling the world, he knew there were still plenty of places he wanted to see, but he kind of liked this feeling of having roots.
And a home.
The question was did he want to risk the comfortable life he had now in order to expand? He’d been able to finance his small start-up operation out of pocket, and with only thirty-six head of cattle he wasn’t near capacity for his own land, and was able to do it all himself.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose and under the edge of his eye patch. Getting up to pour himself another cup of coffee, he went into the kitchen and realized the pot was empty. He started another one and let the pup out while waiting.
Hatch stared out at the big, open night sky.
Smelled that crisp clean air. He could breath out here even with that unmistakable hint of cattle.
Buying or leasing land from Stew would allow him to expand the herd to two hundred. A relatively small operation and one that put him right back into the family business.
Still, he’d have to borrow or barter for the land and for cows, maybe a bull or two. He’d need to seed the pasture with alfalfa for hay in the winter, and supplement with feed when necessary. His income would be at the mercy of droughts and floods and whatever nature saw fit to throw at him. Not to mention the stock market.
He’d need a couple extra hands and the bankroll to pay them. New equipment.
The list went on. He knew better than most that too much debt in too short a time could turn a profitable operation south in a heartbeat.
When he went back inside and grabbed his cup of coffee, he was glad that he’d hesitated shutting down for the night. He heard that unmistakable sound of a video call ringing through.
He slid back into his desk chair and clicked to accept the call. Angela’s face popped up on the screen. She had her hair pulled back and was sporting a deep tan. And that puke-colored T-shirt made her green eyes pop. “Hey.”
“You’re still up,” she said, looking even more tired than he felt. It was the middle of the day in Afghanistan. He’d figured out a while back from a few sketchy details, and only because he’d been there himself a couple times, that she was at Camp Leatherneck, in the Helmand Province.
A big, six thousand U.S. Marine bull’s-eye in the middle of the desert. Supporting ten thousand Marines on base and in outlying areas.
Sunlight streamed into the tent, and people moved in and out behind her.
“How was the party?” she asked.
“We had twelve screaming four-year-olds on a sugar high. Maddie says that’s a good thing. Sorry you missed it.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
“What happened?”
“Don’t ask.”
Okay, he knew the rules. He’d had to play by them for years. That said, amusing anecdotes about coworkers were not off-limits. He still got a kick out of the fact that the girl with the pink Cadillac he’d found broken down on his ranch road had become an auto mechanic.
Good for her. “How’s the motor pool?”
“As of today,” she said, “I’m no longer part of that. I guess you’d call it a field transfer to MP. I don’t know…” She looked down at her hands. She was wearing the ring he’d given her. “They haven’t actually changed my MOS.”
“What are you doing with the military police?”
“You know I can’t tell you any more than that.”
That wasn’t good enough for him. MP didn’t sound like a good fit for her. All the female MPs he knew were tough-as-nails Marines. And Angela thought she was tougher than she really was.
MP was one of those iffy jobs that wasn’t considered infantry or closed to females. But in combat situations security was dangerous work.
He tried to imagine what she might be doing.
Manning checkpoints? Search and seizure operation? Dealing with burka-wearing suicide bombers? Handling bomb-sniffing dogs?
The job was a lot more than the movie ver
sion of guys in white helmets harassing drunken sailors and Marines.
Working in the motor pool didn’t keep her safe, but at least he knew what she was doing day in and day out. The conversation threatened to lull as he tried to push it into territory she couldn’t discuss.
“How’s Ryder?”
She’d changed the subject, her voice softening as it always did when she asked about her son.
“You want me to get him?”
“No,” she exclaimed. Even though he knew she’d like nothing better. “Don’t wake him. Was he terribly disappointed?”
“He’s just over here on the couch. Fell asleep waiting for you. Let me get him.”
Hatch was up and out of his seat before she could protest. “Ryder,” he said, shaking the boy gently. “Your mom’s online.”
Disoriented, Ryder looked around. “Mommy?”
“On the screen.”
Ryder ran to the computer, where he crawled up into the chair and knelt in front of the monitor. Folding his arms, Hatch leaned against the archway, close enough to assist and far enough to be out of the way.
“Hi, baby. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“Hatch let me wait up.”
“Well, thank you for waiting. Did you have a nice birthday?”
He nodded. “Just a minute,” he said, crawling down from the chair. He started to run away, then returned. “Be right back.”
“Guess he has to go the bathroom,” Hatch said, moving from the doorway to occupy the vacant seat. She appeared anxious as well as tired.
“He misses you,” Hatch said.
She nodded. “I miss him, too.”
Hatch’s heartbeat kicked up a couple notches.
A few minutes into their conversation Ryder came running back into the room carrying Blue. “Look what Hatch got me for my birthday.”
“A puppy?” Her onscreen gaze shifted from Ryder to him.
“His name is Blue,” Ryder continued. “He’s a boy.”
Ryder stood next to the chair and held the pup with his distended puppy belly and other parts toward the screen. He went on and on about everything they’d learned today about Australian cattle dogs. And how much he love, love, loved Blue.
She kept her smile in place, but Hatch could see by her eyes he was in some serious trouble here. “He looks like a real bundle of energy,” she said.
“Oh, he is,” Ryder agreed. He ran off again to put the puppy back in his pen in the kitchen.
“You bought him a dog without even asking me?” She kept one eye on Hatch and one eye out for Ryder’s return. “What were you thinking?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
A FEW WEEKS LATER Hatch was standing in the Sweetwater County Airport with Ryder, knowing he was going to have to answer that question in person. The military had flown her from Afghanistan to LAX. The rest of the trip was on her time and her dime.
Hatch had offered to meet her at a larger municipal airport, Denver or even Jackson Hole, to try and save her a little bit of both. But she’d insisted on coming to them.
Knowing her parents had been killed in a plane crash, and that she’d chosen to fly rather than take some other form of transportation, told him how anxious she was to get here. To her son.
They were hanging out in baggage claim when he spotted her in her desert digital uniform, newer camouflage patterns created using modern pixels.
The Marines claimed a patent for the first design, but the rest of the services had borrowed the concept.
She’d dropped weight, to be expected in 120 degree heat, and from a distance looked like a little girl dressed up in her daddy’s uniform. But up close no one would mistake her for a little girl anymore.
Nudging Ryder, Hatch pointed out Angela, thinking the boy would run to his mother. Instead, the four-year-old let the welcome home sign they’d made slip between their seats, and stared at her.
The eager anticipation of the past few days turned into a full-blown pout as he crossed his arms and turned away from his mother. Angela’s approach was cautious. Hatch stood and they exchanged one of their trademark awkward hugs.
Then she knelt to Ryder’s level. “Hi, honey. Mommy missed you.”
The boy made a big show of keeping his back to her. Then he spun around and would have punched her if Hatch hadn’t stopped him. “Hey.”
He crouched down behind Ryder and turned the boy to face him. “We speak with our words. Not with our fists.”
“It’s okay.” Angela instantly defended her son. “He’s mad that I left him.”
“It’s not okay.” Hatch stared her down, then her kid. “Do your feelings hurt?” Hatch asked, and the boy nodded. “Are you sad? And maybe a little confused? Your mom’s changed. She even looks a little different, doesn’t she?”
Ryder nodded again, and again.
“You look a little different to her, too.” He had hold of the boy’s arms and gave them a rub. “But you’re happy she’s home?”
He nodded with watery eyes this time. The boy wasn’t the only one near tears. Angela was holding back her own.
“All those feelings add up to being angry only if you let them.” Hatch was speaking from personal experience, but trying to put it into words a four-year-old would understand. “Are you ready to give your mom a hug and tell her you missed her?”
He nodded in encouragement and the boy turned and threw his arms around his mother.
WITH HER WELCOME HOME party still going on downstairs in Maddie’s music room, conservatory—whatever it had been called in 1829—Angela had retreated upstairs. She wasn’t sure how much more welcoming she could stand.
She and Hatch had started fighting on the drive to the ranch when he found out her plans included leaving the next day. Ryder was in the next room crying his eyes out because they couldn’t take his new puppy with them.
This was turning into the homecoming from hell.
Not the homecoming she’d been dreaming about, anyway.
With jerky movements she folded another of Ryder’s T-shirts and finished repacking his things into one suitcase. When they’d stopped by the ranch on the way here she’d grabbed without thinking. Now some of his things would have to go back into storage.
Or maybe she should just give them away. By the time they were settled anywhere he’d have outgrown them and they’d be into a different season.
He’d gotten so big in her absence she hardly recognized him as her baby boy. Judging by his tantrum in the airport, she appeared to be little more than a stranger to her own son. Even though they’d kissed and made up, it was Hatch’s side Ryder stuck to as they were leaving the airport.
When they arrived at the ranch Ryder had taken her by the hand—after introducing her to Blue, of course—to show her the beautiful desert oasis they’d created for her out of Hatch’s guest bedroom. She’d further disappointed them both by not spending even one night in that room.
She was on a tight schedule and had no time to prepare the boy for the changes that were coming his way. Hatch was in there now promising to take good care of Blue. If he had just asked her before promising her son a puppy, all this could have been avoided.
“And after he’s housebroken,” Hatch was saying, “he’s going to need training in order to be a good cattle dog.”
“I don’t want to move to Missouri.” Ryder’s voice was thick with misery.
Angela didn’t know if her presence would make things better or worse. So she stood in the doorway of her room to listen. The party downstairs was winding down. After she tucked Ryder in for the night she’d go back down and say goodnight to their guests.
If she angled herself just right she could see Hatch’s broad back through the crack as he sat on the lower bunk and tried to reason with Ryder.
“It’s only for a short time,” he said. “Have you ever been to Missouri?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know you won’t like it?”
“Because I won’t,” Ryder said stubbor
nly. “And I won’t like Texas, either. And I won’t like her new dog. How come Blue can’t go to police dog school?”
“Because—” Hatch cleared his throat “—Blue is a cattle dog. He’s not a police dog.”
Angela crossed those few steps and knocked on the partially open door. “Can I come in?” She stepped in before anyone could make a fuss. Hatch, Ryder and Blue all turned to look at her. She could see in those puppy eyes that Blue blamed her, too.
“Can I get a kiss good-night?” She joined Ryder on the bottom bunk. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had one of your kisses.”
They smooched and she hugged him tight.
“Do you want me to read you a bedtime story?”
“I want Hatch to read.” Ryder stroked Blue.
“Okay.” So she was pushing it. She met Hatch’s sympathetic gaze as she petted Blue with him. “Maybe Hatch will read us both a bedtime story. And maybe he’ll even record a couple stories for us to take along?”
“Of course I will.” Hatch picked up one of several books scattered at Ryder’s feet. As if reading stories had become part of their bedtime routine.
“You’re not coming with us, Hatch?”
“No,” he said. “No, I’m not. Remember, I have to stay and look after Blue for you.”
“And Aunt Maddie’s not coming?”
“No, she has to stay and look after me.” Hatch tried to make a joke of it, because he could see as well as Angela could where Ryder was going with this.
Her son went through the names of all his preschool friends and teachers, shopkeepers and ranchers, anyone in town he knew, as he began to realize he was leaving more than just his dog behind.
HATCH CLOSED THE DOOR with a quiet click and followed Angela into the hall. They had Ryder settled down now, and Hatch wanted to talk to her before she made a beeline back to her room
“Maybe you should think about letting him stay while you’re in MP school,” he suggested. “That’s what, nine weeks? Another twelve for dog school?”
“He hardly knows me as it is.”
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