“Damn,” he growled, his voice echoing around the living room as he dropped his hand from his chin. What was he going to do? The fact that he had been so vulnerable in front of her was making him feel like hell. And the fact that he’d abruptly turned on his heel and left Abbie alone in that shack, tore him up even more. He’d walked away. He’d run. Like a coward. He had hitched a ride home with another family and hadn’t spoken to Abbie since.
“You’re a damned coward,” Colt muttered. He’d left her in the lurch; left her to move all the stuff back to her van to transport to Morgan’s home. Worse, after that life-giving kiss had seared his broken soul, he’d left her without explanation. She probably thought she’d done something wrong. But he was the one who had.
As he lifted his chin and glared out at the sunny morning, Colt knew he had to go over to Abbie’s and talk to her. And if she was pissed off at him and his antics, so be it. He wouldn’t blame her for her righteous anger over his immature, knee-jerk actions. The least he owed her was an explanation. And in his anguished heart, Colt hoped Abbie would not only understand, but would allow him back into her life. He was frightened by how easily she touched his emotions and freed them. Colt wanted her in every way, but he didn’t want to pay the entry fee.
So where did that leave them? Leave Abbie? She didn’t deserve this adolescent behavior of his. No, what he was proposing to do was steal the honey from the hive, but not feed the bees who made it. He was like an interloping bear, all he wanted to do was eat dessert and walk away, sated. Glowering as he moved slowly toward the door, keys to his car in hand, Colt didn’t like himself at all. Abbie didn’t deserve to be hurt like this. And yet he’d done a spectacular job of it. What would she think when she saw him on her porch? Scream? Curse at him? Tell him to get the hell out of her life? Worse? As Colt shut and locked the condo door, he had no hope that Abbie would allow him back in her life.
Abbie gulped as she opened the door. Colt stood there, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his bomber jacket. He looked like hell warmed over—his skin pasty, dark shadows beneath his narrowed, bloodshot eyes, and his mouth twisted in a line of pain that sent a shaft of hurt through her heart.
“Come in,” she invited softly, stepping aside. On her table were ten carefully wrapped pots of orchids, which she was about to carry out to her car and transport over to Laura’s place for the dinner party tonight.
Abbie’s heart beat hard in her chest as he gave her an anxious look. Then, with hesitation, Colt moved woodenly through the door. She shut it and looked up at him. The tension swirled between them.
“I guess…” Colt began awkwardly, his voice sounding like sandpaper, “I shouldn’t have invited myself over here this morning, Abbie.” Shrugging his drooping shoulders, he saw her eyes grow warm with compassion—for him. He couldn’t help but absorb her beauty in that moment. She was wearing a plum-colored angora shell with a white cotton blouse beneath it. Her hair was wild and free around her face and shoulders. A pang of longing shot through Colt. How badly he wanted to sift those red-gold strands through his fingers as he had yesterday afternoon. Her hair was so soft, and yet so strong and resilient…like her.
Wrapping her arms against her breasts, she clung to his every word. Feeling horribly vulnerable, she managed to answer in a strained tone, “I’m glad you did, Colt. I don’t know what happened yesterday between us. You just left…”
Smarting despite her gentleness toward him, he pulled his hands out of his jacket pockets. “I, uh…damn, this is hard, Abbie.” Opening his hands toward her, he muttered, “I’m sorry. It was me yesterday, not you. You did nothing wrong.”
“I see….” Abbie’s senses took over. She saw such vulnerability in Colt’s face right now. His eyes were wide and pleading, his hands open in supplication. He was hurting so much even now that Abbie could almost taste his salty tears from yesterday. Her first instinct was to open her arms, step forward, throw them around Colt’s neck and hold him. Hold him, rock him and let him know that he could find safe harbor with another human being.
The silence strung tautly between them.
“If I’m overstepping my bounds with you, Colt, let me know,” Abbie whispered. She unlocked her arms and let them fall to her sides. Colt dropped his hands, too. They stood three feet apart, yet it seemed like the Grand Canyon stretched between them. “I feel you’re more embarrassed over crying yesterday than anything else. Is that right?” Abbie searched his furtive gaze. At first Colt wouldn’t look at her. He stared down at his boots for a long time, his mouth working. Finally, he lifted his head and tentatively met her eyes.
“I…well, I was…but it was more than that, Abbie.” Colt nervously cleared his throat. “Well…men just don’t cry. At least, I don’t. And I enjoyed the hell out of our kiss.” He closed his eyes momentarily and then reopened them, looking up at the rafters, which were hung with swags of fresh pine and red ribbons. “I didn’t see it coming. One moment I was kissing you and enjoying every second of it. The next thing I realized, this stuff was running down my face.”
Gently, Abbie said, “Do you know what the tears were about?” She thought she knew, but wasn’t going to say. Colt had to give voice to his trauma, not her.
Struggling mightily, Colt looked around. His mouth became a slash. Damn, it was happening again! He could feel that fist of pressure tightening around his heart, and he could feel the heated prick of tears at the back of his eyes. Just Abbie’s voice was triggering all of this. Colt fought his feelings savagely. It seemed like he stood there an hour instead of just a minute grappling with the knot of emotions and tears that so badly wanted to vomit out of him. Finally, he got a handle on himself. Giving her a narrowed look, he rasped, “Yeah…it’s about those missions over in Kosovo.”
Abbie nodded, feeling as if she were walking on fragile eggs with Colt. He looked unhappy, his eyes burning with unexpressed emotions. How many times had Abbie seen this in Ted’s eyes when he would come home after a traumatic mission? This was no different. Taking a huge risk, she walked up to Colt and placed her hand tentatively on his, which was balled into a tense fist at his side.
“Sometimes I hate our society, Colt. I see the damage it has done to men and women. Little boys are taught that it’s not okay to cry, to show their feelings or talk about them. And so you go through life believing that if you do have feelings or tears, everyone will think you’re weak and unmanly.” She grimaced. “What a crock. If God hadn’t given you tear ducts and a heart to feel with, that would be one thing. But he did.”
She squeezed his hand. “I wasn’t surprised at your tears, Colt. I can feel such pain and suffering around you. I figured it probably had to do with those missions you were on. All I could hope for was that you might trust me enough to let all that darkness spill out of you, let me be a shoulder to cry on…a set of ears to listen without judgment to what you went through and survived. That was all I wanted.” Abbie gave him a slight smile and drowned in his stormy looking eyes. “I don’t know about you, but when I cry, it feels so good to get it out of my system. I feel much better afterward. And there’re so many things we should cry over. I felt honored that you’d share your tears with me, Colt. That kiss…those moments were very special to me. And I hoped they were to you, too….”
Had she said too much? Abbie cringed inwardly, then watched Colt’s face in awe. Her words seemed to have had a profound physical effect on him. His brow, once scrunched, was easing. His eyes were losing that hurt and hardness. Most of all, his mouth was losing that tight look of silent, anguished suffering. She felt his fist relax and he enclosed her hand within his.
“I’m scared, Abbie.” There. It was out. Colt braced himself. He saw her eyes flare with surprise and then…understanding. Her lips parted and she whispered his name like a prayer.
“Oh, Colt…you don’t ever have to be afraid of me….”
Heartened, he rasped, “I figured you’d be royally pissed off at me, running out of there like the coward I
was.”
Shaking her head, Abbie forced back the tears that wanted to rush into her eyes. “I knew something had happened, Colt. I didn’t know what. But I knew it wasn’t me, either. It was something deep within you…and it had caught you off guard, judging by the look on your face.” Taking a huge risk, Abbie leaned upward on tiptoe and placed a warm kiss on his cheek, then eased away from him. She saw pleasure replace his pain for a moment at her bold action. Her heart soared with elation.
“Colt, you were scared. And running from your fear. Well…” Abbie looked fondly around the warm kitchen, where sunlight poured through the Victorian lace curtains over the window above the sink. “I’ve been running for nearly two years, ever since Ted died. When I realized what I was doing, and that it wasn’t healthy for me long-term, I stopped it. I faced the music. I faced the fact he was dead and not ever coming back.” She touched her chest, above her heart. “The miracle was that when I did that, I started to heal, Colt.” Giving him a look of pride, she said, “You came back here…to face me. You didn’t have to—you could have hidden in that condo again. You’re a lot braver than you give yourself credit for Colt.”
Realizing her wisdom was based upon the harsh experience of losing someone she loved deeply, he nodded. “I hear you. I’m not proud of what I did to you, Abbie. I was scared. I still am. Right now, I feel like I’m in a helicopter that’s tumbling out of my control.” Giving her a long, intense look, he drowned in her shimmering blue eyes. “There’s something about you that’s triggering all this dark stuff in me. It wants to come out. I’m trying to sit on it, but it’s alive, like a monster inside me, eating me up.”
“I know, Colt. I know….” Abbie wanted to throw her arms around him. She saw his pain so clearly in his eyes. “I’ve been through that same gauntlet you’re going through right now. My trauma wasn’t over missions, but it was about death and loss, and that’s something we share in common.”
“The only difference,” Colt said gruffly, releasing her hand, “is that you’ve survived your run through that gauntlet and I’m not sure I can or will…and I don’t want to put you in the line of fire, either. You don’t deserve to be hurt, Abbie. That’s what really bothered me about all this—hurting you. You’re innocent.”
Whispering his name, Abbie risked everything and stepped up to him. She placed her hands on his cheeks and looked deeply into his distraught eyes. Right now, Colt was hurting so much that she couldn’t stand there and not do something to try and help him. “You’re innocent, too, Colt. Bad things happen to good people all the time, I’ve discovered.” Her voice grew husky with unshed tears. “What matters is that you know I’m here for you in whatever way is comfortable for you. Okay? I don’t expect anything from you, Colt. Let me be your friend? A shoulder to lean on…maybe cry on if you feel like it? I don’t run when things get bad. I’ve weathered plenty of storms. I feel like I can help you with your storm—if you’ll let me?” She held her breath.
Gently, Colt took her hands in his. Her face was open and incredibly trusting. “You’re a brave woman, Abbie. The way I feel right now, I don’t know anyone who’d make the same offer to me that you have.”
“I can stand the heat in the kitchen, Colt. Just try me.” Abbie gave him an uneven smile that she didn’t feel, because inwardly she was weeping for all the pain and grief he was carrying.
Shrugging back his shoulders, he gave her a warm look. “Okay…you’re on, pardner. But if I get out of hand, just tell me. I’ll slink back to the condo and nurse my wounds alone. Fair enough?” The last thing Colt wanted to do was hurt Abbie. She was putting herself out for him and he was going to try and keep her out of his line of fire.
“Great,” Abbie whispered unsteadily. She eased her hands from his and stepped away. “I think I could use your help in getting my orchid girls over to Morgan and Laura’s house. Care to help?” She forced her voice to become bright and cheery. It was not how she felt, but it was what Colt needed. Right now he was raw and unsure of himself, of the boiling emotions that seethed just below the surface.
She hurried to the table and placed one well-wrapped pot of orchids in his large, steady hands. Hands that she wanted to have touch her, love her and draw her tightly against his hard male body. Swallowing, Abbie tried not to pursue that desire. Right now, Colt was hurting. She was sure sex was the last thing on his mind, judging from the unaccustomed brightness she saw in his eyes as he stood there like an awkward little boy, holding the orchid so carefully in his big, pawlike hands.
Looking at the framed picture on the wall opposite the stove, he asked, “Is this the orchid in the photo?”
Abbie looked up as she carefully balanced a clay pot in her hands. “What? Oh, that orchid? No, that’s another Cattleya rex, like the photo in the living room. Remember? I told you about it on the first night we were together?” She laughed gaily. “I wish I had one!”
Colt did remember now. All his memories were centered on Abbie and how good she’d looked and felt in his arms when they had danced together. “So why don’t you have it in your collection?”
She smiled wistfully. “Colt, that particular orchid costs a thousand dollars for just one plant! I can’t possibly afford it.” She gently patted the newspaper wrapped around the orchid she held. “All these girls cost anywhere between twenty and fifty dollars apiece. I have an orchid budget—where I save my pennies for months on end, and then buy one that I want. No, I’m afraid Cattleya rex, my most favorite orchid in the universe, is not one I’ll ever own.”
“A thousand dollars?” Colt frowned. “They cost that much?”
Abbie grinned and opened the door. “Some orchid fanciers have specimens that cost upward of ten to fifty thousand dollars each.”
“Wow,” he muttered, following her out into the bright sunlight.
Hurrying to her heated van, Abbie took her girls and put them in the back in special boxes, where they would be protected during the short trip. She watched as Colt shut the door to keep the orchids warm. The plants could not survive cold temperatures for long. Anything below fifty-five degrees would kill an orchid.
As he walked back with her to retrieve more plants, his shoulder brushing hers as they trudged through the snow, he slanted a glance down at her. “Knowing the shape I’m in, would you like to go to the dinner with me tonight? Or do you want to put this snarly bear out to pasture so he won’t bite you?”
Warmed, she laughed and said, “I’d love to, Colt.” Her heart speeded up. The look he gave her was that of a predator hunting its next meal. She absorbed his hungry look and remembered that starved kiss he’d plundered her lips with yesterday. Maybe tonight would be healing to him, as it would be to her….
Colt couldn’t keep his eyes off Abbie at the dinner table that evening. The Trayhern house rang with conversation, laughter and the giggling of children. A number of tables, draped with white linen cloths, had been placed in a U shape. Abbie’s beautiful, colorful cattleyas were arranged among the silver and gold ribbons that flowed down the center of each table like a glittering creek.
Abbie sat opposite Colt at their table, looking delicious in a fuchsia silk, long-sleeved jacket and slacks. Around her throat she wore a strand of pearls, which she’d told him were a gift from her grandmother, and a set of small pearl earrings. Her eyes reminded him of blue sapphires. The softness of her mouth was permanently branded into his memory, on his lips and within his heart and aching body. She had pulled that wild, curly red hair into a girlish ponytail decorated with a large, pale green cattleya orchid with magenta spots on its lip. She looked exquisitely beautiful.
They sat next to Jake Randolph, his wife, Shah, and their three children, ages three through ten. The children were like squirming puppies, their laughter and giggles filling Colt with an unexpected joy. To Abbie’s right sat Wolf Harding and his blond-haired wife, Sarah, plus their two children, both girls. Part of what made this night so special to Colt was the fact that the mercs had all brought their families. T
he smiles, the joking and teasing among them was lifting his dark spirits.
On Abbie’s left sat Jason Trayhern. Although he wasn’t wearing his Annapolis uniform, he still looked all spit and polish in his casual clothes, and painfully correct in his bearing. Colt could see the young man idolized Abbie, and he also saw their special relationship, the doorway that she had to him. Abbie held Jason’s heart…just as she did Colt’s. That was her gift, Colt realized as he ate the beef Wellington. She knew how to create an opening to people like himself who were closed up and hurting. It was instructional for him to watch her work her natural magic on Jason. Within half an hour of sitting down, Jason was cracking jokes and laughing with her, and warming up to everyone else around him.
Abbie was so special. An ache built in Colt, so powerful and pulverizing that he wanted once more to feel Abbie’s soft, smiling mouth against his. He wanted to drink in, like the starving mongrel he was, her energy, her sunny disposition, her idealism and hope. On some level, Colt knew Abbie could heal him, just as she was helping to heal Jason of his wounds from the past.
Later, after coffee served with a dessert of fruitcake smothered with a white vanilla sauce, Colt mingled with the other families in the den, where brandy and Kahlúa and coffee topped with thick mounds of whipping cream were being served to the adults. Many of the children had gone down into the basement, where Morgan had set up a number of games for them to play. Abbie remained at Colt’s side, and he’d taken the bold step of placing his arm around her waist as they moved among the groups and families. When he’d done that, she’d looked up at him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling with joy over his move. Colt felt like he was walking on air once more.
Romancing the Holidays Bundle 2009 Page 22