Hold On (Delos Series Book 5)

by Lindsay McKenna

  “Well,” Beau murmured, “because they love you, they wanted you to grow up with positive experiences under your belt.”

  “Did you and your family play any games together?”

  “Yeah, my mother was stuck on Old Maid.”

  “What’s that?”

  He gave her a wink. “Old Maid was a card game out of the 1840s, I think. My grandma played it with her, and my ma still has the cards she originally owned. So when we boys were old enough, she taught us how to play it. It’s like a standard card deck, except one of the cards is an Old Maid. And whoever ends up with it is the Old Maid. It was nothing fancy, but we three boys got a lot of mileage out it,” he chuckled.

  “My grandmother told us that people used to play a lot of card games back in the Depression era,” Callie recalled.

  “Yeah, no one could afford to go out to a restaurant, go to a movie, or do much of anything else,” Beau agreed, turning the steaks again. “Card games were big because they brought families together, so they were more than just fun times for competitive types.”

  Within minutes, everything was ready. Callie took their salads to the table, and Beau brought the dinner plates with the steaks on them. He’d bought some French bread, too, and Callie had slathered it with butter, wrapped it in foil, and heated it in the oven. She placed the warm, buttery bread in a basket and set it on the table between them. Beau pulled out her chair so she could sit down. She loved that about him. He was always the gentleman.

  “Tomorrow, by the way,” Beau began as they dug into dinner, “Matt and I will be going with you two and Mohammed to that Shinwari village.”

  “That would be terrific!” she said gratefully. “It’s a service the Hope Charity offers that village four times a year. We’re just lucky Dara is here now so she can offer medical support to the villagers.”

  Nodding, Beau said, “Matt and I know the northern area pretty well, and it’s considered fairly safe.”

  “Nothing is ever safe out here,” Callie muttered, chewing the delicious steak. “I mean, it’s a pro-American village, and this will be my fifth trip out to it, but I’m always a little concerned.”

  “Well, it’s winter, and usually the Taliban slinks back to their own villages or across the Af-Pak border to sit out the winter. We should be safe going to and from the village.”

  “That’s what I told Dara, but you know how she worries. She’s already jumpy about it. I told her it would be an easy day for all of us, and it gets us out in fresh air and sunshine, if we’re lucky.”

  “Actually, it’s supposed to be overcast with a possibility of rain here at Bagram. That village sits at seven thousand feet, so they’ll probably get snow if the mountains decree it,” Beau pointed out.

  “Mountain weather is always fickle,” she agreed. “Well, we’ll be dressing warmly,” she promised.

  He sobered and held her gaze. “When we get back, Matt and I are expected at HQ to prepare for the op I mentioned this morning.”

  Beau could see her struggling to keep her expression positive. His heart swelled with love, and he knew he would do whatever it took to protect her from life’s disappointments.

  “You know that as soon as we land back here at Bagram, I’ll be on the cell phone to you. Okay?”

  Dara might have been the chief worrywart in the McKinley family, but Beau sensed that Callie wasn’t too far behind. She cared so deeply for others that he knew she was naturally going to worry about him.

  Callie forced a slight smile and said, “Of course, Beau. I understand. I can’t wait to see you when you’re back.”

  “I know … and I’m sorry. I hate to see you worry,” he said, reaching across the table, his hand over hers for a moment.

  “You can’t help it, Beau. It’s okay.”

  That stuck like a lump of coal in his soul. Now he was beginning to understand why Matt was looking forward to separating from the Army. It helped that he already had a job waiting for him Delos, the network of charities his family ran. But since meeting Dara, Matt had been positively ecstatic that he was leaving the military.

  If Beau hadn’t been emotionally involved with Callie, he might not have appreciated Matt’s reaction. But now he did, even more than he wanted to admit.

  Squeezing her hand, he said, “We’ll make this work, Callie. I promise.”

  His promise came from a place deep within him, and Callie could feel it. She knew Beau came from a family, a tradition, where a man’s word was his bond, not to be broken unless death interceded first. She suddenly felt close to tears. “And I promise to wait for you …”

  Beau swallowed hard, holding her luminous gaze. It was more than he could ever have hoped for from Callie at this young stage of their budding relationship with one another. “We’re going to make this work,” he rasped, sliding his fingers across her cheek. “I always want you in my life from now on, Callie. Somehow, I’ll figure out a way to make that happen.”

  *

  Beau moved his fingers, lingering along Callie’s back, listening to her shallow breaths, feeling the dampness on his neck and upper chest. Callie’s hand moved weakly through the sprinkle of dark hair on his chest.

  Their first session of post-dinner lovemaking had left them exhausted; they had eagerly moved together with a sense of hunger and urgency. Now, at 0200, he’d awakened, driven to love her again, but this time as tenderly as he could. And this time, Callie came undone within his arms. He had felt her tears on his shoulder afterward and wasn’t sure what they meant.

  Was she devastated that they were having to part so soon after having met one another? Or was she torn apart by the prospect that he might be in danger?

  Beau didn’t know, and so he leaned down, kissing her closed lids, tasting the salt of her tears. “What are these tears all about?” he asked thickly, smoothing her silky hair away from her face so he could see her in the shadows.

  Callie barely opened her eyes. With trembling fingers, her voice low and apologetic, she whispered, “I-I don’t know. I rarely cry. I’m crying because you’re going to be gone, in danger again, Beau. I’ll worry … I’m sorry …”

  “Hush, gal, I want you to share everything with me. You know Delta teams are the best. I have you to come back to, Callie. I have every reason to survive, and I will.” He gave her a tender look. “Tears don’t upset me, either. My ma taught me a long time ago that they were cleansing.” He smiled deeply into her wounded eyes. Cupping her cheek, he leaned over, breathing in her scent, that musky wildflower mix that made him ache to take her all over again.

  “Don’t ever be afraid to cry around me. I know a lot of guys are uncomfortable with a woman’s tears, but the way I see it, you’re just clearing out some dark memories or emotions.”

  She sniffed a bit. “Do you ever cry, Beau?”

  He lifted his head and his mouth twitched. “Now, can you keep my secret?”

  “You know I can.”

  “My pa cried sometimes, and he did it in front of us boys. And that’s where we learned it was okay to let go, to give in to our feelings. We were taught it was nature’s way of healing us from the inside out.” He slid his fingers through her hair. “Yes, I cry. Now, do I do it in front of my team? No way.” His mouth turned upward. “But there’ve been plenty of times in the Army where I’ve sought a quiet, out-of-the-way place and let my tears fall.”

  “Do you feel better afterward?”

  “Always. How about you?”

  “Always.”

  “See? We can be crybabies together. Just another thing we share,” he teased gently, seeing her sad smile and trembling lower lip.

  “I think I’d like your parents,” Callie said. “My mom and dad aren’t so much that way, but my grandparents are.”

  “It could be a generational thing, you know? Or it could be because I was bred in the hills and we do things differently from the lowlanders.” Beau smoothed her hair from her face. “Hey, I have something to tell you that should cheer you up.”

&
nbsp; “What?”

  “I called my ma on my sat phone while we were over at the orphanage earlier today. I asked her to send me a deck of Old Maid playing cards, and I told her I’d finally found a willing partner.”

  Callie couldn’t help but laugh. “And I suppose you’re going to teach me how to play when those cards get here?”

  Beau cradled her in his arms, and she realized she had never felt as safe as she did right now. Beau, while a big tease sometimes, was a consummate warrior, and it was especially evident right now because he was bristling with protectiveness toward her.

  “Sure. I thought that once I get off that op, we can come over here to the Nest and make dinner and then afterward, I’ll teach you how to play Old Maid.”

  It was impossible for her not to laugh, and he laughed with her. After this last bout of lovemaking, Callie had admitted to herself that yes, she was falling in love with Beau, and she now knew she had no intention of stopping it.

  Her unexpected tears were really about her feelings, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. She didn’t want to make Beau feel bad about choosing to remain in a career he loved.

  And she realized that she was willing to be in his life as long as they lived, for however long that meant. Right now, Callie accepted her fate, because Beau gave her so much in return.

  “Come here,” he growled, lifting her into his arms and easing off the bed. “I’m going to get you a bath started. I know how much you love them.” He set her upright on the bed and then gathered the purple velvet spread around her shoulders, tucking it in so she wouldn’t become chilled. “Stay here for a moment. I want to get the water going in that tub for you.”

  Callie loved to watch him walk around naked, his shoulders so proud and thrown back, his long legs powerful, his strong calves muscled. And he had the cutest rear she’d ever seen. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, about Beau that wasn’t beautiful to her.

  When he came back about five minutes later, she could see that he was a man with a plan. “Okay,” she murmured, “what’s going on here, Beau?”

  “Nothing, sweet woman.” He brought out a white silk bathrobe from the bathroom and helped her into it. Then he leaned down and swept her into his arms and carried her over to the couch. He sat her down, bringing one of the big pillows at one end for her to prop herself up against. “I’ve decided you deserve a world-class foot massage first before I fill that tub with water for you.”

  “Oh, Beau, you’re kidding me,” she said gratefully. She adored his foot rubs.

  He sat down near her feet and uncovered one of them, placing it against his thigh. “Now, why would I kid you about that, gal?” He slid his long fingers around her delicate arch and began to gently move and pull at those muscles, getting them to loosen up.

  “Ohh,” she whispered, leaning back, closing her eyes. “You’ve utterly spoiled me, Beau. That feels sooooo good …”

  “Better than your orgasms?”

  She laughed and opened one eye. “No way. You bring out the best in me, you really do. I’ve never had so many orgasms in my life!”

  He seemed pleased about that. His hand slid up her ankle, and he forced himself to focus on relaxing her calf muscles, a place she seemed to hold stress.

  “Well, you bring out the best in me, too,” he confided. “I don’t normally come three times a night. I knew you were the right woman for me.”

  “How could you know that, Beau?”

  He slid his thumb along the muscles of her calf, hearing her sigh. “I felt it the night I saw you belly dance.”

  “Really?” Callie scrunched up her face in disbelief.

  Beau laughed and went on, “Hey, maybe every other man in that chow hall that night had a hard-on, but I was seeing something else in you. Something deeper. Of course I wanted you in my bed, but not just because you were a sexy dancer.”

  Her snort shifted into a sigh as he continued kneading her foot.

  Beau finished her other foot and then rose. “I’m going to start your bathwater.”

  When he returned, she could see that he was becoming erect. “Looks like doing foot massage does something else for you,” she teased.

  He glanced down and smiled. He leaned over, pulling the silky robe from around her. “That’s your fault,” he rasped, sliding his arms beneath her naked body and lifting her up against him. “It’s time I spoiled you a little more,” he announced as he kissed her forehead, carrying her into the bathroom. He nudged the door shut and then eased her to her feet. “Bath time.”

  “Are you going to wash me, too?” She met his gaze, her whole lower body feeling how much he wanted to be inside her.

  “No, I’d like to, but you know what?” He pointed to the shower. “One of these days, I’m going to give you the sexiest washing you’ve ever had under the shower.” His look was feral as he took her hand, helping her step into the huge garden tub, now filled almost to the top with warm water.

  Callie gave him a big grin as she took the proffered washcloth and soap. “I’m really going to look forward to that.”

  “You should, gal. Now, while you’re getting your bath, I’ll take a shower all by myself and miss you like crazy.”

  She chortled. “Fortunately, it won’t be for long.”

  He shook his head. “Just lounge and enjoy the water.”

  Sighing, she sank into the heated tub, closed her eyes, and murmured, “Beau, you’re unbelievable.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Callie tried to appear calm and unworried as she entered the white van. Mohammed, smiling, told them all “Good morning!” as they climbed in. He had been hired by the Hope Charity and was their driver. When he wasn’t doing errands for Maggie and the charity, he would pitch in and help at the orphanage. Only twenty-one, the black-haired, green-eyed Afghan was always upbeat and smiling. Callie loved his optimistic attitude, and it rubbed off on everyone. He was the kind of person, in her opinion, that just made a day go better, even a bad one. She smiled over at Mohammed, speaking to him in her Pashto. Today was Dara’s last day at Bagram, and they were driving out to a nearby Afghan village—a safe one, Callie had assured Dara.

  Callie made this trip once a month, and when she did, she brought either a physician, a dentist, or an optical team with her. This time, she was bringing Dara to help set up a medical clinic for the village’s women and children. Once that was ready, Callie would distribute winter clothing and shoes to the children.

  At the van, Callie saw Beau climb into the seat behind the driver. Matt helped them into the van and then rode shotgun, sitting in the front passenger seat with Mohammed, his M4 beside him. Callie felt a definite sense of tension running through the two Delta Force operators and wondered if her sister had picked it up, too. Judging by Dara’s worried look, her fingers moving restlessly in her lap, she probably had. It was never secure going out beyond the wire, the safety of Bagram.

  Callie saw both men check their weapons, extra-alert and more intense than usual. Both men were clearly in warrior mode.

  Earlier, Dara had been anxious and had confided in Callie that she was glad the two Delta Force operators were going with them today. She felt jittery about leaving what little safety there was at Bagram. The village they were heading toward was thirty-five miles north, near the slopes of the mountains, in a small, water-rich valley.

  Callie had tried to ease her sister’s fears, and having Beau and Matt along seemed to have settled most of her sister’s civilian nerves. Now Callie forced her own anxiety down, keeping on her game face, pretending all was business as usual. Being able to sit next to Beau helped quell Callie’s anxiety, and he appeared his usual, unflappable, easygoing self. Once, their eyes met and Beau traded a slight smile with her. Her body continued to glow from their lovemaking earlier that morning, and her sister had that same fulfilled look. Callie was grateful that they had both started the day being loved by these men.

  The morning sun was slanting across the flat desert landscape as Mohammed chatted
away in Pashto with Matt. They left the safety of Bagram and headed north on a two-lane black asphalt highway.

  Dara tried to relax, her hands knotted in her lap. Matt had urged her to wear hiking boots today because villages were muddy this time of year and there was no place on this trip for a nice pair of leather shoes. Not only that, but both he and Beau had their huge sixty-five-pound rucksacks with them, stuffed with whatever they felt they might need.

  Callie knew both men were prepared for anything, and because it was winter, Beau had urged her to “dress down and dress warm.” The village sat at the foot of the mountains, surrounded by snow and in freezing temperatures that were normal for November. Callie was wearing her hiking boots, heavy jeans, and a white silk camisole instead of a bra. She didn’t like bras, and any time she could get away with not wearing one, she did. She’d chosen a bright red mock turtleneck sweater, a toasty combination of merino sheep’s wool woven with silk. The sweater kept her warm but not hot.

  Her black hooded nylon down coat fell around her hips, keeping her warm, and instead of wearing her unlined leather gloves, Callie had opted for “serious” fleece-lined gloves. She wore a black and red knit cap and a knitted scarf wrapped around her neck. There was no way she was going to freeze outside in this weather.

  Between her and Beau sat Beau’s huge rucksack. Knowing him, he had covered every possible need for any emergency. He had insisted she put a small knapsack together for herself, which she normally didn’t do, but she grudgingly carried some protein bars and several quarts of water, knowing the village did not have a well. Few of them did; the villagers relied on a nearby stream or river for water.

  The village they were visiting today sat near a small river, which could have been foul, polluted, and not drinkable. No one had ever reported on its purity. The mountains hovering over this valley made their own weather, and snow could fall in the blink of an eye this time of year.