Hold On (Delos Series Book 5)

by Lindsay McKenna

  Graham nodded. “Thought you kids might see it as an opportunity that presented itself. Your family came together earlier and we talked about it. We think if you two young people have some time alone, it might be helpful to both of you. You’re always welcome over here, of course.”

  Callie felt her skin prickle as she blushed. The doors to her heart swung wide open as she met her grandfather’s twinkling blue gaze. She cast a glance over at Beau, who kept his face carefully arranged as well. She knew the decision was hers to make. Her family had never pushed her into anything before and she realized they saw a need for Beau and her to have some privacy with one another. She wanted to cry in that moment, because they all realized her need for Beau to walk back into her life, which she hadn’t admitted to until just recently, had always been there. That was how messed up her mind and emotions were, and she wished she could strain them out properly and not be like she was presently. If not for her grandpa’s urging her to contact Beau and ask him to join them for the holidays, Callie knew she wouldn’t have asked Beau to visit. She was in too deep and dark a place to be thinking straight. Thank goodness her family was. Giving them all a grateful look, she whispered, “Yes, I would love to do that. It’s a great idea.” She turned, looking up at Beau. “Are you okay with it?”

  “More than okay, Callie.” His face lost that unreadable look, his gray eyes growing tender as he held her gaze. “I want whatever you want. It’s more important how you feel about this. Us.”

  “I’m more than okay with it,” she admitted to him, seeing his eyes turn soft with love for her. And it was love. She knew it whether they’d ever broached the topic or not.

  Graham cleared his throat. “Dara and Callie,” he told Beau, “used that cabin as their castle, their playroom, while growing up. When we had our relatives drop by, they would use it. The rest of the time the girls painted, drew, and read out there. It was like their fairy-tale castle, where they could go to get away from us older people.” He gave Callie a warm look. “Am I right, baby girl?”

  Callie smiled a little. “You’re right, Grandpa.”

  “Well, it’s all set up for you. Your grandmother and I have put clean sheets on the beds, we’ve stocked the fridge, and the heat is on. All you have to do is take some of your clothes and toiletries out there after dinner, and you’ll be all set.”

  “Can we come and eat here with all of you?” Callie asked, feeling a bit awkward. Her grandfather had never banished her to the cabin before.

  “I would expect you two young ones to show up for dinner whenever you want. And if you don’t want to? That’s fine, too.” Graham gave her a kindly look. “It’s entirely your call, Callie. Beau is here to support you. And it’s not like we won’t be around, and it’s not like you can’t come over and see us. We love you. It’s just that we all think that, under the circumstances, this might be a nice retreat for you.”

  Maisy said, “Callie? If you decide you would rather stay here, you can come right back into the house and claim your bedroom, all right? We’re not kicking you out of the house here,” and she smiled warmly.

  That made Callie feel better. “For a moment I felt like you were trying to get rid of me,” she admitted quietly, nervously moving her fingers in her lap. She knew her screams at night would wake the household.

  “Nothing could be farther from the truth,” Connor said, opposite Callie at the table. “The four of us were looking at things that might help you through your period of struggles, Callie, that’s all.”

  Beau turned, placing his hand over hers briefly. “You won’t be alone over there, Callie. I’ll be there, too.”

  And that made all the difference in the world to her, but she didn’t want to divulge the depth of her love for Beau to anyone else … not yet. She and Beau had so much to talk out between themselves.

  “And that’s good,” she offered, her voice wobbly with emotion, giving him a grateful look. Just the calm in his steady gaze settled Callie’s anxiety. She wanted Beau to keep holding her hand, but he reluctantly released it.

  “Nothing changes around here, Callie,” Graham informed her. “There are still stalls to clean, there are cattle to check on, and there are bales of hay to haul out to them by tractor. All the normal things that go on around here will be there if you want to partake in them. Same goes for Beau. But you don’t have to.”

  She nodded, feeling better about being sent to the cabin. In truth, she looked forward to the privacy with Beau. Callie wasn’t sure what would happen, which put her on edge in a new way. The low, emotional words he’d spoken to her this afternoon had sent a healing balm throughout her. He wasn’t disappointed in her! He didn’t blame her for running. That lifted the biggest load off her shoulders that she was carrying.

  She would never feel good about what she’d done, but at least Beau had forgiven her. More than anything, he cared deeply about her. She felt his passionately spoken words flow through her heart so powerfully she couldn’t speak, and his raw need for her beneath those words had made her whole body come alive.

  “Besides,” Maisy said, “we’re decorating our Christmas tree tomorrow night, and we fully expect the two of you to be there to help us do it.”

  “Yes,” Graham said, grinning. “And you get to make the popcorn chains for the trees like you always do when you’re home, Callie.”

  She loved that memory and said with a smile, “I’d love to do that, Grandpa. It brings back a lot of good times.” It was always the happiest time of the year for Callie, and this time, Beau was here. Her heart felt such euphoria that all her anxiety, dread, and depression were gone for a moment, and looking into Beau’s eyes, she suspected that the darkness in her soul might soon begin to lift. Her heart sensed he was an integral key to her healing process.

  CHAPTER 18

  “Nice cabin,” Beau told Callie as they entered it after dinner. The lights were on, and he liked the coziness of the place. It was open concept, with a kitchen near the front door and huge windows a person could look out while doing dishes at the sink. He did note that there was a dishwasher, which was always appreciated.

  “I love this place. I always have,” Callie said, closing the front door.

  He nodded, dropping his duffel near the door. “My brothers and I liked to climb trees. In fact, our pa helped us build a tree house that we couldn’t wait to climb into … so I kind of understand how you feel about this place.” He smiled, then noticed she had gone silent. “How are you doing right now?” he asked, moving over to her and sliding his hands across her slumped shoulders.

  “Am I that easy to read?” She frowned.

  He leaned over and hugged her lightly. “Only to me, Callie,” he reassured her. “I sense you. We seem to have this invisible connection. I don’t know the words exactly, but I pick up on what you’re feeling.”

  “Is that black ops training?” she asked curiously.

  He gave her a wry smile. “Hardly. It’s more like connecting to the woman who makes the sun rise and set for me.’”

  She went still, six inches separating them because of her sling. “That’s so beautiful,” she whispered, searching his eyes. “Is that how you see me?”

  Threading his fingers through her loose, silky hair, he groaned, “From the night I first saw you, Callie, you’ve meant the world to me.” Beau was desperate to share, in the strongest way possible, how much he loved her without using the actual words.

  Her eyes shone, and he saw happiness begin to reemerge. Damn it, he knew she loved him, and so did she. There were just too many signs. Callie wasn’t in touch with them right now, but he was. “In fact, for the next thirty days I’m going to show you in every possible way how much you mean to me, Callie.”

  She reached up and trailed her fingertips across his jaw, feeling the growth of shadow beneath them. It made Beau look dangerous—far more so than when he’d worn that beard of his. His face was angular, hard, and rugged. With his gray eyes, he did indeed remind her of an eagle who mis
sed nothing. “That sounds too good to be true,” she whispered.

  He gave her a slight smile. “Hey, I’m here just for you, Callie. If you tell me what you want, I’ll try to make it happen, okay?”

  Nodding, she whispered, “I know I’ve said this before, but sometimes I think you’re a figment of my overactive imagination.”

  “I’m real,” he assured her. If she looked down, she’d see his very real erection pressing against the zipper of his jeans beneath his jacket. “There are two bedrooms. Which one do you want?”

  Beau wanted desperately to take her to his bed, but it had to be Callie’s idea, not his. He watched her hesitate, torn. He could feel her wanting to be with him, not be alone. Whatever Callie decided was all right because Beau did not want to push or force her into being with him. He could see her struggling to separate her feelings from her mind. Right now, they ruled her, and logic and clarity were secondary. He’d seen his own teammates in this condition in years past when they were shot or were too close to an explosion going off. At those times, Beau knew the only thing he could do was ride it out with his injured teammate, give him a lot of room and compassion. That helped the healing process more than anything, and he knew it would help Callie. He ached for the anguish he saw come to her eyes, because he could feel her wanting to be with him.

  Lifting her hand, she pressed it against his chest. “I feel so broken in some ways, Beau. I know what we shared at Bagram was beautiful. Wonderful. I dream about it.”

  “Look,” he rasped, settling his hands on her shoulders, “you’re in shock. It takes time to dissolve, Callie. There’s no right or wrong here. I’ll take the room to the left.”

  Feeling uneasy, she gave a jerky nod. “I never knew what shock was or what it could do, Beau.”

  “I’ve seen it up close for myself and some of my teammates, Callie. You’ll have to trust me on this one.”

  She allowed her hand to slip off his chest. “Okay, I guess I’ll take the one on the right.”

  “Sounds good.” Beau picked up his duffel. “What do you feel like doing now? Are you tired?” He’d seen her begin to tire while Maisy was serving dessert to the family.

  “It’s eight p.m.,” she said, more to herself than to him. “I go to bed early, Beau. I still don’t have my usual energy back. I get tired so easily now, it drives me crazy.”

  He hefted the duffel over his shoulder. “Shock does that, too. Then let’s hit the sack. I’ll take a shower first, okay?”

  “Good, because there’s a bathtub in there and I want to soak in it for a while before I try to sleep.”

  Beau heard the emphasis on “try” but said nothing. Graham had given him a lot of valuable information on Callie, and he was going to put it all to use. And if he’d had any doubt that McKinley was the Ghost, that had been put to rest. Toward the end of their conversation, Beau had bluntly asked him if he was or not, and he’d received a slight nod of Graham’s head, nothing more. Beau knew the look in his eyes: it came from killing people. And he knew from talking with the Delta Force snipers that it was the same for all of them. They never forgot one of their victims’ faces. They killed in the most intimate of ways: seeing the target’s face through the sniper scope before the trigger was pulled. Beau was sure McKinley had his own fair share of ghosts from the past that haunted him to this day.

  As he dropped the duffel onto the queen-size bed with a white, downy comforter across it, Beau knew he had his work cut out for him with Callie. Fortunately, Graham was there in the background like the angel he was for his granddaughter, watching and assessing her struggles and behavior. As a sniper, no one was better at correlating details, and even just being around Callie this long, Beau agreed with Graham’s assessment: Callie was not only fragile but brittle. He could feel the sharp edges around her, as if one small event would crack her wide open and she’d shatter into a million pieces.

  He’d seen others reach that same point of no return. And some he’d seen actually deconstruct. Graham wasn’t sure Beau could give her what she needed—maybe no one could—and Beau himself wasn’t sure. He did keep thinking about something Matt Culver had told him: “Let your heart lead you.” So for now, that was going to be his inner voice, leading them both, hopefully, to a better place.

  *

  Beau was up cooking breakfast when Callie came out of her bedroom. She had on a pair of sheepskin slippers and wore a long, pink flannel granny gown that fell to her slender ankles. On top of that, she wore a cream-colored chenille robe. He smiled over his shoulder as he saw her emerge from the room. Her hair was mussed, making her look beautiful and wanton to him.

  This morning, he was pleased to see no shadows beneath her green eyes. That was a step in the right direction; she had slept long and hard.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” he called as she shuffled across the rug in the living room, heading for the kitchen. “Welcome back to the world of the living.” He turned the bacon in the skillet and then poured her a cup of coffee.

  “I’m not awake yet, Beau … but thank you … ,” she murmured, accepting the cup.

  “I see you’re not wearing the sling on your arm. How’s it feel?” he asked, returning to the bacon frying in the skillet. She stood there, hip against the counter, both hands around the mug of coffee, sipping it with relish.

  “It feels so freeing,” she murmured, turning and looking out the window. Frost was forming on the edges in almost crochetlike patterns. “Looks like the weather has finally passed.”

  “Mmm,” he said, draining the grease from the bacon and placing the strips into a nearby bowl. “Are you up for a little adventure this morning?” He wiggled his brows and grinned.

  “What kind of adventure?” she asked, hesitant but intrigued.

  He saw her wariness. “A fun one,” he assured her. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the living room and the large picture window. “I was thinking we might find a Christmas tree today. I’ll cut it down, make a stand for it, and we can have one here in the cabin, too. What do you think?”

  Graham had made a point of saying that he should get Callie outdoors and encourage her to do the daily ranch work. Since she’d come home, she’d pretty much stayed in her room, and he didn’t feel that was good for her. Beau agreed.

  “Well?” he prodded.

  She smiled. “Yes, I’d love to do that.”

  “Now,” he murmured, taking the skillet off the burner and shutting it off, “we’re going to trim your family’s tree tonight over at their homestead.”

  “Good. And if we find one today, we could trim our own tree tomorrow evening. Just you and me?”

  Nodding, Beau retrieved four fresh eggs and broke them into another bowl. “That sounds good.”

  “Just having you here,” she added softly, “gives me hope …”

  He held on to his emotions. Giving her a glance, he said, “What do you mean by that, Callie?”

  Graham had told him that unless someone asked Callie a lot of questions, she would never explain herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to—that was normal for her.

  “I didn’t want to leave you at Bagram,” she admitted quietly, stealing a glance at him to see his reaction. “I just wanted to leave Afghanistan and that horrible ambush behind. But I didn’t want to leave you, Beau.”

  He added some milk, salt, and pepper to the eggs, stirring them briskly with a whisk. “That makes two of us. I wanted so damned badly to escort you home, Callie. I knew how raw you were feeling. I knew the crowds, the jostling, and the noise were going to hammer you.”

  “They did,” she sighed. “Dara was in much better shape than I was. And I’m glad. I’m guilt-ridden enough about dragging her through that experience.”

  Beau poured the egg mixture into the skillet. He then crumbled up the bacon into it. “You have to let that go, Callie. Dara survived. She’s not angry at you, and she doesn’t blame you for what happened.”

  Looking up at him, Callie asked, “How do you know this
?”

  “Because I talked to Matt by phone when I reached Seattle. I had four hours before my flight and made calls to my family and then to him. I found out Dara is doing very well. And I asked him point-blank if Dara held you responsible for what happened to her.” He held her wavering gaze. “He said no, she didn’t blame you, Callie.” He gave her a swift kiss on the cheek. “So it’s time to stop riding that horse, pardner. Okay?” he said firmly, giving her a look that pleaded with her to think about it.

  “I asked her about it before we left Afghanistan,” Callie admitted. “But I didn’t believe her. That’s on me.”

  “You tend to stew on things,” Beau said gently, watching the omelet cook. “And I’m here to short-circuit that for you, Callie. You can’t keep carrying loads that aren’t yours to carry.”

  “You’re right,” she admitted, frowning. “I don’t know why I do it.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Beau said, holding her gaze. “What matters is that you recognize what’s happening and then dump it. And if you don’t realize it, I’m here to help you see what you’re doing to yourself. It was hard enough for you to survive that ambush, Callie. That’s enough to carry around in you without adding other people’s lives into the equation, don’t you agree?”

  “As you can tell, I’m pretty much an emotional person, and thinking isn’t something I do first. It’s actually the last thing I do.”

  “But I like you that way,” he reassured her. Beau knew he couldn’t just tear her down without building her up. He wanted today to be a new day for Callie, and he’d said enough. “Hungry?”

  “Everything smells good,” she admitted tentatively.

  “Your grandfather says you’ve had the appetite of a sparrow. And I can see you’ve lost more weight, so my first priority is to get you to eat.”

  “Yes, and drink. Remember, I don’t hydrate often enough?”

  “How true. I don’t think you’ll ever forget that charley horse you got when we were on the run, will you?”

  A slight smile tugged at her lips. “No, I won’t. And you’d be proud of me, Beau. Since coming home, I drink a lot more water than I ever did before.”