“Don’t think, just do,” she says, handing me one of the tiny tumblers.
I hesitantly take it from her. “You’ve been over at Harley’s again, haven’t you?” I ask, referring to our resident that has taken to making moonshine—not the good kind, but the worst kind of rotgut anyone has ever tasted.
“I pulled a tick out of his ass earlier today,” she says, mimicking a gag. “Now bottoms up!” She clinks her glass to mine and we drink the liquid fire.
After our faces go through some involuntarily hideous twitches, I recover my power of speech and say, “What was that for?”
“For getting you to loosen up, Kay. Now spill.”
“Spill what exactly?” I ask her.
“Oh, come on. The whole camp is talking about how Mitch pissed all over John, apparently marking his territory.”
My mouth falls open. “What?!” I shriek. “That is not how it was at all. John was touching me inappropriately. Mitch saw it and saw that I didn’t like it, so he stood up to him. That’s all.” I shake my head and murmur, “Marking his territory . . . where do they come up with this crap?”
“Well, what do you expect, Kay? There’s nothing better to talk about around here now that Kelly Nelson’s pregnancy is old news.”
“Are you seriously equating Mitch’s silly little standoff with John to Kelly getting knocked up by an army captain whose wife used to be her high school science teacher?” I close my eyes at the thought of me being new gossip fodder for the troops.
Holly eyes me suspiciously. “It really wasn’t a big deal?” she questions me.
“No, Hol.” I wipe out my glass with the bottom of my t-shirt figuring it doesn’t need washing because the moonshine probably disinfected it properly. I place the shot glass back in the cabinet.
“So, he’s not ‘claiming his territory’?” she asks.
“There’s nothing to claim, Holly,” I say, becoming irritated with her, even in my now mildly inebriated state.
She finally blows out a conceding breath. “Fine. Want to play Monopoly? We can pick up where we left off last time.”
~ ~ ~
Holly and I went to bed after a riveting few hours of hotel building and property trading.
I couldn’t sleep, so I pulled my secret gem, my newfound lady leverage, my latest guilty pleasure, out from its hiding place under my nightstand. And, dammit, I was just getting to the good part of book one when I hear a muted scream. Not a high pitched blood-curdling scream from a bad horror movie, more like a deep rumble of turmoil-turned-panic scream from a man.
I jump out of bed and curse silently when I stub my big toe on the corner of my dresser on the way out to the living room. Everyone else is sleeping, so I swiftly follow the noise out of my apartment to find the source. I open the door to Austin’s apartment knowing that since he works nights, Mitch must be the sufferer of this nightmare.
I go into Mitch’s bedroom and see, by the moonlight coming through his window, that he is crouched in a corner, cowering as if a predator is set to attack him.
Knowing I could very well end up hurt if I approach him, I call out, “Mitch! Mitch, you’re having a bad dream, wake up!” His eyes remain closed and he doesn’t respond. I look down at the floor around me and pick a shoe up off the ground and throw it at him.
“Crap,” I mutter to myself when he slides further down the wall, moving his face right in front of the shoe just as it makes contact. That’s gonna leave a mark. I should have grabbed the sneaker, not the boot. Mitch opens his eyes but is disoriented.
“Huh . . . what . . .” he says, looking around the room.
Deeming it safe, I walk over and help him stand up, being careful not to look down just in case he sleeps in the nude. He lets me guide him to bed. I pull the sheet over him and get up to leave when he grabs my hand. “Thanks, Doc. You saved me—I’ll never forget you.”
“Uh . . . it’s okay, Mitch. You’re okay now,” I say, but he’s already fast asleep, his chest moving up and down in a slow and regular pattern.
As I slip back into my bed and get out my paper and pen, I wonder just what it was that I saved him from.
Dear Jeff,
Is that what it’s like for you over there? Are you having bad dreams every night? Is there someone there to help you if you are?
It feels like forever since I’ve been able to look into your big brown eyes and run my fingers through your wavy blonde hair. I didn’t even mind that you had to cut it so short for the army. I’ve almost forgotten what it looks like short, but as I’ve said before, I won’t give in to the temptation to look at your pictures. It wouldn’t be fair to the others.
Oh, speaking of things nobody else knows about, Jamie found my journal with all the letters to you. She made fun of me for writing so many of them. I know it’s silly that I still do it after all this time, but it makes me feel closer to you somehow. Although I feel bad that her fiancé died, at least she has closure, she knows for sure, and because of that I can’t help be a little envious as strange as that sounds. Holly, in her usual crazy-yet-lovable fashion, almost laid Jamie out for invading my privacy.
It’s so bizarre to have a life here that I don’t share with you. I tell you about my friends, yet you’ve never met them. You’ve never even heard of them. My one wish, other than you making your way back to me, is that you are surrounded by people that love you as well. I know from your e-mails that you established some incredible friendships over there and I have to trust that those will help pull you through this.
Until next time. All my love,
Kay
Chapter Seven
This morning, Mitch and I are off to the stables so I can give him a full tour of the grounds.
He doesn’t mention the nightmare he had or even that he remembers anything about me coming into his room last night. I casually ask him, “How’d you get the pretty shiner?”
He reaches up to lightly touch the blue and red bruise high on his cheek bone and replies, “Hell if I know, I woke up with it. Maybe John paid me a visit in my sleep.” He elbows me and I realize that we kind of have a thing now. Every time we tease each other, the elbows come out. It’s our thing. We have a thing. I suck on my bottom lip contemplating if I’m comfortable with this or not.
His eyes light up when he sees all the horses in the stables behind the barracks.
“We built it by hand,” I say. “There are no nail guns and electric saws anymore. Everything is done the old-fashioned way. It’s amazing how it brought everyone in the community together.”
I walk him over to the horses to introduce him to a few of them. “This is Sassy, she’s my favorite. We understand each other.”
“Sassy?” he questions, looking amused.
I nod at him and move to the next stall. “This here is Buck. Ordinarily, I’d have you ride him, but considering your medical condition, I’d say it’s not a very good idea today. Buck tends to throw off riders occasionally. I’ve stitched up quite a few lacerations caused by that one. No, today you should ride Rose. She’s gentle and won’t scramble your brains any more than they already have been.” Elbow down, elbow down, I repeat to myself.
Mitch gives me a look so I say, “What . . . you can dish it out but you can’t take it?”
He smiles at me. “Oh, I can take it alright. Give me your best shot, doctor.” He stares at me long and hard. His unmanageable black hair falls into his eyes and I have the urge to reach out and brush it away. Our eyes are locked together. I shouldn’t be looking at another man like this. I try to pull my gaze away from his for the fear of drowning in those bewitching sapphires.
“Dr. Kay,” someone says behind me, and the trance is broken. I turn to see Brad, the stable hand. “You takin’ her out today?”
“Yes.” I nod. “Brad, this is Mitch Matheson. He’s new here and I’m taking him on a tour of the grounds. Is it okay if he rides Rose?”
“You bet,” Brad says, as he shakes Mitch’s hand. “She hasn’t been ridden
in a few days, so it’ll do her good.” He saddles up Rose and Sassy for us.
Brad puts the stool next to Sassy and I slip my left foot into the stirrup then I swing my right leg over the top of her. When Brad and I look over at Rose, we see that Mitch has already mounted her and is walking her around to get her used to his weight. “Ahhh, he’s a natural, I see,” Brad says. I smile looking over at Mitch who appears to be very much at home on the mare.
Mitch takes Rose through some turns and maneuvers as I watch in awe of how he has easily won her over. It’s like he has a power over her and I wonder if that extends to all females or just the four-legged kind. I’m not sure how long I’ve been staring when Brad pats my leg and says, “You two kids stay out of trouble now.” He lets out a chuckle as I glance over at Mitch who winks at me.
I gently squeeze Sassy with my legs, prompting her to walk out the gate and into the grassy field that lines the back of the stables. Mitch brings Rose up alongside me as we set out to explore the northeast side of the camp that is lined with acres of grazing ground for the cattle that we raise. It will take a while to reach the far east side of the perimeter that borders the springs, and I find myself lagging behind and staring at the man riding in front of me.
His broad shoulders fill out the tight t-shirt he is wearing and when he moves, I can see ripples of muscle across his back. His wavy hair almost touches the collar of his shirt where it curls up and bounces slightly with each step of his horse. The dark stubble on his face and the tattoo on his bicep that peeks out from under his shirt almost complete his rugged bad-boy look. I can practically envision him wearing a cowboy hat, and the thought of that has me taking in a deep breath and then slowly blowing it out.
I realize where my mind is going and I try to snap out of it. I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m only staring at him. So why do I feel so guilty about it?
It occurs to me that we’ve not spoken a word since we left the stables, yet it’s a comfortable silence. Still, I’m trying to think of something to say when Mitch beats me to it.
“So, is he your boyfriend?”
“Is who my boyfriend?” I ask, trying to figure out who he could be referring to.
“Austin,” he says in a sharp tone, as if he’s angry.
I delight in the fact that Austin didn’t divulge personal details about me despite the fact that they live together now. Knowing Austin, however, he probably withheld information just to bug the crap out of Mitch.
I shake my head at him. “No. Austin and I aren’t together, but he is one of my dearest friends.”
Mitch nods at me in silence.
“My boyfriend, Jeff, is over in Afghanistan.”
His eyes close and he shakes his head slightly. “Oh God, Mikayla, that’s horrible. I’m so sorry. Hasn’t there been any word about our troops overseas?”
“No. We barely know anything about the current state of affairs in our own country, let alone others. But Jeff isn’t one of the troops. He’s a doctor; a surgeon. He was only supposed to be over there for four months and was just a few weeks away from coming home when it all happened.”
“It must be awful for you and everyone else here to not know about your loved ones over there.”
I study him for a second then I tell him, “It’s no worse than you not knowing about your family, Mitch. It must be gut-wrenching to lose two whole years of your life and not know if you have someone waiting for you somewhere.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” he says. “But what I don’t understand is how I ended up in Florida of all places. I’ve never once been here and I don’t know anyone who lives here. Well, I don’t think I do, anyway.” He laughs. “And how the hell did I get here from Afghanistan, or at the very least, from California?”
I realize that our horses have stopped walking and are waiting on us to tell them what to do. Mitch continues, “But still, I have this nagging feeling that there is someone I was looking for.”
Of course he was looking for someone, he was alone. But why does the thought of him looking for a woman make my heart sink into my stomach? Maybe he wasn’t looking for a woman. Maybe he was looking for a friend, or a family member; his brother’s family perhaps.
I give Sassy a squeeze with my legs and we continue on toward the east pasture. “So, if you don’t know who you might have been looking for, does that mean you weren’t . . . um, that you didn’t . . . uh . . .” I stumble over the words that won’t come out.
A smirk flashes across Mitch’s face. “Mikayla, are you trying to ask me if I’m married or have a girlfriend? Because if you are, just come out and say it.”
A blush creeps up my face once again, as I roll my eyes at him and snap, “Whatever, Matheson. You are the one who started it.”
“You’re right,” he says. He turns Rose around and expertly walks her backwards alongside me so we are almost face to face. “I guess it’s only fair that I tell you then.”
As he tells me about his ex-girlfriend, Gina, who he was with for two years, I notice that his hand goes up to absentmindedly grab at his chest again. It makes me wonder if she has something to do with this unconscious habit.
Rose complains about walking backwards so he turns her around before continuing his story. “So I started hearing from her less frequently and when I finished my first tour and returned home to Sacramento, I found out that she had run off with my best friend.”
He purses his lips and shakes his head, and I can see that he’s still hurt even though it happened so long ago. Three years ago to be exact, but to him it only seems like less than a year has passed since she dumped him. I wonder if maybe he ended up getting back with her and that she is the person he’s been looking for. Then again, I can’t imagine anyone taking back an ex who had exhibited such betrayal.
“I’m so sorry, Mitch.” There’s nothing else I can say. I have no words of wisdom or encouragement for him in a world where so many uncertainties exist.
In our renewed quiet, I look around at the beautiful pasture and take in a deep breath to inhale the sweet scent of the purple petunias that are growing faster than the cows can eat them. My eyes are drawn to the hummingbirds that circle around the aromatic plants, looking for a place to land. I view the countryside and think back to how different my life was before everything happened. I try to remember a time when I was doing something that wasn’t related to work or school. I rack my brain and I can’t even come up with one instance.
Mitch asked me earlier if I had any hobbies. If asked that same question a year ago, the answer would have been very different. I had none. No interests outside of medicine. Even the rare times when Jeff and I were alone together, we were always talking about patients, new surgical techniques, or my residency exams. These days, I can rattle off a list of hobbies that make life worth living. Horses, reading, softball, stargazing, music. There are so many things that fill my days now that I never took the time to appreciate before. So many things that contribute to my existence that is no longer singular, but multi-faceted and colorful. In fact, if it weren’t for Jeff missing from my life, I might even go so far as to say I’m happy with the way things are.
My eyes wander back to Mitch and I see him lovingly talking to Rose while maintaining our leisurely stroll. I wonder if Jeff were here, would he be as enamored as Mitch and I are with these wonderful creatures? Would Jeff like to sneak out at night, as I often do, to the soft grassy courtyard across from the apartments to lie down in complete darkness just to stare in wonderment up at the amazing night sky? Would he get excited every Friday, knowing that after work, all our friends gather for a weekly softball game followed by a bonfire and sing-a-long at The Oasis? These are all such simple things. Yet, Jeff was never a simple person. Driven, that’s what I would call him. But driven is good. It’s why he grew to be an incredible surgeon. It’s why he was such a good mentor for me when I first started med school. It’s why I think I was initially attracted to him.
So, why then, as I watch Mitch interact with t
he beautiful animal he sits on top of, am I thinking that a man who loves a horse is just about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen?
“ . . . Mikayla? . . . Dr. Kay . . . hello?” Mitch pulls me back from my deep and inappropriate thoughts.
“Sorry, just daydreaming I guess,” I say, hoping I wasn’t blatantly staring at him the entire time he was trying to get my attention.
“I was asking you how much farther it is to the springs.”
Mentally shaking my previous thoughts out of my head, I answer him. “I’d say about a mile.” I gesture toward the open grassy areas. “And it’s a whole lot more of this the entire way.”
He narrows his eyes at me and lifts a hand to rub the stubble on his chin. Then he leans over and calmly says to his horse, “I think we can take ‘em, Rose.” His eyes flutter back to me momentarily, full of challenge and I realize what he means a microsecond before he yells, “Yah!” And before I can react, they are almost in a full-out gallop.
He may be good with horses, but he doesn’t know that Sassy is about the fastest mare of the bunch. It doesn’t take me long to catch up to them, and in no time we’ve got wind flying through our hair and smiles plastered on our faces. By the time we close in on the far reaches of the camp, we’re riding neck and neck, laughing like a couple of teenagers on a joy ride.
Mitch calls it a draw and we slow the girls down to a steady walking pace. I find myself reveling in the foreign feeling coursing through my body. What is it . . . exhilaration . . . joy? Whatever it is, I like it. I want more of it. But I fear the man next to me may be the sole reason for it and that reality is not okay with my conscience. And again, guilt washes over me as I close my eyes and try to picture Jeff. My boyfriend. My love. The brilliant man that is the missing piece of my life.
Mitch stops laughing when he notices my change in demeanor. “Everything okay, Mikayla?” He circles Rose around me and the horses nuzzle each other while he awaits my reply.
Finding Mikayla Page 6