Читать книгу Coming Home for Christmas: Christmas Angel / Unexpected Gift / Navy Joy - Lindsay McKenna, Delores Fossen, Delores Fossen - Страница 12
ОглавлениеBY THE TIME they reached home with two Scotch pines in the back of the pickup truck, Anna had developed a blinding headache. Kyle worriedly glanced at her from time to time as he drove slowly toward the ranch. She’d become withdrawn and pale, tipping her head against the headrest. Her eyes were closed.
Had it been their blazing kiss, clinging to one another? As if to let go meant they’d never see one another again? Had her crying brought it on? God, he didn’t know what to do when Anna cried. Kyle felt so damned helpless. He was a SEAL. He fixed things. That was his job. But damned if he could fix a woman’s tears. And she’d wept after kissing him. Why?
The questions jammed in his throat like bitter brew, and Kyle knew this wasn’t the time to ask her anything. More than likely, Anna was upset over their unexpected kiss. They eventually had to face the end of this thirty-day emergency leave. He had to return to his SEAL platoon in Afghanistan.
When they arrived at the ranch, Jepson met them with two wranglers. Together, the three men took the trees into the buildings. Kyle had wanted to be with Anna, but she’d slipped out of the truck and gone straight into the house, telling him she was going to go lie down.
When Kyle had gotten the tree ready for decoration in the corner of the room, it was nearly 6:00 p.m. The winter night had closed in quickly, and he’d built a roaring fire that would keep the entire ranch house heated.
He kept his hearing focused in case Anna was awake. He wanted to be with her. Kyle knew if he could hold her, she would feel better. It had always been that way between them. Frustrated, he got rid of his hat and gloves. Hanging his damp jacket on a wooden peg near the front door, he rolled up the sleeves on his chambray shirt and went to work in the kitchen. Kyle made a point of fixing three meals a day for Anna. She was eating better, and he wanted her to regain that lost weight. Looking through the refrigerator and cupboards, he found enough items to make a hearty shepherd’s pie.
It was near 8:00 p.m. when Kyle heard the door to Anna’s room open. He stopped himself from going into the hall to meet her. Sensing she needed some space, Kyle instead set the oak table for dinner.
Anna appeared.
“Hey,” he called softly, setting down the flatware, “how are you feeling?” She looked wan, her eyes dark.
“Better,” she mumbled. Walking slowly, Anna used her hand against the black granite island to steady herself. Motioning wearily toward her head, she said in a quiet tone, “My concussion. The doctors said I could get terrible headaches out of the blue.” She grimaced. “They were right.”
“Have a seat,” Kyle urged, pulling out the chair for her. Anna was clearly unsteady, and he held out his hand toward her. She took it, her fingers feeling cool and clammy.
“Thanks.”
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Just water.”
“How about some aspirin?”
“No, docs said to stay away from them for now. The pain is pretty much gone, Kyle. I just feel bruised and beaten up, is all.”
Grimacing, Kyle got her a glass of water. “You look pretty pasty.”
Anna took the glass. “I feel pasty.”
Kyle watched her take slow sips of the water. She used both hands to hold the glass. “I had a SEAL buddy of mine get traumatic brain injury when an IED went off too close to him. He had a helluva lot of symptoms like you do. His headaches were so bad they made him cry.”
“Yes,” Anna said, lifting her eyes to him, “that’s about right. I feel for him. Is he better now?”
Shrugging, Kyle shoved on a pair of mitts and opened the oven door. “Chuck is stateside and still doing a lot of physical therapy. I don’t get to email him often because the team and I are usually out on patrols.”
He pulled out the shepherd’s pie and placed it on a metal trivet on the table. Anna lifted her head and sniffed the fragrant meal. There was an appreciative expression on her face.
“Smell good to you?” he asked. Opening the oven again, Kyle retrieved some French bread wrapped in foil. Earlier, he’d sliced and placed garlic salt with butter between each slice.
“Yes, it does.” Anna smiled wanly. “You’re a really good cook, do you know that?”
He grinned and opened the foil up and placed the sliced bread in front of her plate. “I’m no five-star chef, angel, but I’m happy if you eat, that’s all.”
Reaching for the large spoon, Anna placed some of the pie on her plate. Kyle had mashed potatoes, whipped them up and covered the top of the pie with them. The top was a light golden brown, cooked to perfection. She picked up Kyle’s plate and added three heaping scoops onto it. “Funny, but I am hungry. I shouldn’t be, but I am.”
Sitting down next to her, Kyle didn’t want to go into any heavy topics tonight with Anna. She ate quite a bit and he felt heartened. After dinner, he cleared away the dishes.
“I didn’t make dessert,” he said. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” She turned and gazed at the tree. “It looks nice over there, Kyle. Did Jepson get the other tree into the wranglers’ bunkhouse?”
Bringing over coffee, he set a mug in front of her. “Yes. I asked him where the decorations for your tree were and he said he didn’t know.”
“They’re in my closet.” She wrapped her hands around the warm mug. “Do you remember every year how our parents would gather out here at the table? You’d pull out the colored construction paper? Cut it up for our paper loops? And I’d get out the glitter and glue gun?”
He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, lots of good times, good memories.”
“I still do the same thing today.” She gave him a fond look, watching his reaction.
“Seriously?”
“Sure. Why not? I’ve kept all our decorations over the years. And every year I hang them up. I make a bowl of fresh popcorn and string it, plus I make new paper chains.”
His face softened as he reconnected with those times from their mutual past.
“So that’s what we’ll do tomorrow? Make paper chains and string popcorn?”
“Yep, plus hang on the tree all the old ornaments we’ve made over the years.”
Shaking his head, he gave her a grin. “I didn’t know you kept up that family tradition.”
“I remember each of those decorations we made, Kyle. We’d sign the back of them. Our name, the date and year.”
“Yeah...”
“You’re giving me a funny look. There’s nothing wrong with keeping mementos from the past. Especially if they’re from good times.”
He pushed his fingers through his short black hair. “You’re right, Anna.” He leaned to one side, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. Opening it, he carefully pulled out a folded item. He pushed it toward her. “Check this out.” His eyes darkened.
Gently picking up the folded piece of white construction paper, she gasped. “Oh, my God! This is the angel I made when I was seven years old, Kyle!” The edges were torn and frayed. The white paper had faded to yellow. All the gold glitter that had once been on the wings and halo had long ago been rubbed off.
Anna remembered painstakingly making it. As she turned it over, her fingers trembled. Emotion roared through her as she saw her name scrawled on the back of it, the month and the year. Swallowing hard, she whispered, “You’ve kept this all this time?” She held his soft gray gaze.
“The last Christmas we had together? Seven years ago? When we were hanging them on the tree? Instead of hanging it up, I slipped it into my billfold.”
“But...why?” Anna stared down at the poor, tattered thing that had seen better days.
Shrugging, Kyle admitted, “I wanted to take a part of you with me, Anna. Maybe because it had your energy, your love in it... I don’t know. I always put it in a plastic Ziplock bag and tucked it into the pocket of my Kevlar vest when I went out on a patrol. I always believed you were my guardian angel and I wanted to take you with me into battle.”
“I—I didn’t know...” Her voice dropped to an aching whisper as she held it gently between her hands. Her lower lip trembled.
“One time? I forgot to put it into my vest. We went out on an op and I got shot in the right calf.”
“Oh, God, Kyle—”
He held up his hands. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m fine now. A hundred percent, okay? Wipe the worry off your face?”
Sitting back, Anna cradled the angel in her hands.
“You are always with me, Anna.” Kyle felt emotions rising swiftly in him. He forced himself to smile, but it was a poor attempt. What he wanted to do was hold her. Kiss the hell out of her again. See her smile once more. Hear that husky laugh of hers, which always sent riffles across his flesh.
Nodding, she carefully handed it back to him, their fingers briefly touching. “I’m glad to know this. Did you ever marry, Kyle?”
“No.” He saw her perplexed look. “Look, I knew in our business getting married wasn’t an option. And you were smart enough at twenty-two not to say yes to me even though I wanted to marry you, Anna. I kept seeing SEAL marriages fall apart, one after another. They have a ninety percent divorce rate, so I steered clear. I never got serious with a woman after you. I didn’t want to lead her on.” He had plenty of one-night stands, but Kyle wasn’t going there with Anna. All it would do was hurt her, and he’d hurt her enough already.
“That was good of you to tell me that,” she admitted quietly, sipping her coffee. “I knew I couldn’t handle you being in danger all the time, Kyle. It would have killed me.”
“You’re a big worrywart,” he teased gently. “I understand now. Back then, at twenty-two, I didn’t.”
“I hurt you badly by turning you down,” she choked. “I always felt horrible about it.”
Kyle reached out and captured her fingers. “It was the smartest thing you could have done, Anna. And like you said, we had to grow up and mature a little in order to know you did the right thing for both of us. I was kind of blind, deaf and dumb at that time.” Blindly in love with her. But he always had been.
“I still feel that way at times.”
“What? When you married Tom?”
Anna gave him a painful shrug and couldn’t meet his eyes. Unconsciously, she rubbed her nose. “He walked into my life six months after you proposed to me. Looking back on it, Kyle, I should have realized I was on the rebound from you.” She moved her finger around on the wooden table, drawing circles. “I wanted to settle down, have a family. I so desperately wanted to have what my parents had with me coming into their lives. We had been so happy as a family....”
Kyle frowned. “Anna, I don’t want you getting another headache because we’re getting into some serious talks here.”
“My headache is gone.” She managed a faint smile. “I wasn’t very good at picking the right man, Kyle. I thought I loved Tom.” Her voice trailed off. “I wanted kids so desperately. I got pregnant right away and then miscarried the second month. Tom blamed me.”
“For what?” Kyle demanded, confused. “You can’t make your body miscarry.”
“That’s what I told him. I got pregnant nine months later, and by the third month I miscarried again. I was devastated. I thought there was something wrong with me.” She gently touched her belly.
“And where was Tom in all of this?”
“Angry. That’s when he accidentally found all those letters and emails you’d written to me when you first joined the Navy. He accused me of loving you, instead. That because I loved you, I miscarried his children.”
“That’s a crock of bull,” Kyle ground out, flexing his fingers into a fist and then forcing himself to relax.
“Things sort of fell apart between us after that. It wasn’t a marriage anymore. Just two people living together, but unhappy.”
“Why didn’t you email me, Anna?”
She gave him a sad look. “And what good would that have done? If Tom had found me emailing you, he’d have—well—he was violent and I didn’t want to stir up trouble.”
Giving her a sharpened look, he asked, “What do you mean he was violent, Anna?”
She felt the tension rise between them. Kyle’s face had gone stony and still, his gray eyes narrowing on her. Opening her hand, she said, “He had a terrible temper. I didn’t know it when I first married him. I only found out about it...later.”
With a hiss, Kyle gripped her hand firmly. “Look at me.”
Anna held his intense stare. She felt his hand warm and gentle around her coolish one. “What?”
“Your nose, Anna. How did it get broken?”
The rasp in his voice was deadly and sent a shiver down through her. Unable to look away, she said, “Tom hit me one night.” She pulled her hand free of his, tucking it protectively in her lap. “I went to the police that night after it happened, Kyle. I pressed assault charges against him and they threw him in jail.” She touched her nose. “I was scared, but my parents and your parents backed me up. They surrounded me, protected me and helped me through that period of my life. My father fired Tom. He was sent to prison for a year. When he got out, he left for Texas. He signed the divorce papers and I was free.” She gave him an uneasy look. “It’s not something I’m proud of. I made so many mistakes.”
Kyle sat there wrestling with his rage over what had been done to Anna. “I wish... I wish you’d told me,” he managed tightly.
“And what could you have done, Kyle?” She searched his angry eyes, saw the fury in the line of his thinned mouth. “You were somewhere. God only knows where. We weren’t married. There was no legal tie between us, except that you’re my emergency contact. The SEALs wouldn’t have let you come home.” Her voice grew thin with weariness. “I managed to get through it. I had asked your parents to not email you anything about it because I knew it would upset you. And I didn’t want you distracted and maybe get you killed. That’s why I never said anything to you about it.”
Kyle looked away, his gut churning. His mother had emailed him about her divorce, but he didn’t want to bring it up right now. “God, Anna. I wish... I wish I’d been there.” And he didn’t finish the rest of the sentence that if he’d married her at twenty-two, this would never have happened. Because he loved her and would never hurt Anna. He’d never lift a hand to harm her. Ever.
* * *
“YOU START CUTTING up the construction paper for the paper chains,” Anna told Kyle the next evening. Today the sun had shown up after the blizzard, and Kyle had been out working all day until dusk with the wranglers, getting hay to the five thousand Herefords on the ranch. He’d come in just before dinner, taken a shower and changed clothes, and Anna made spaghetti and meatballs for dinner.
He sat down, picking up the scissors after rolling up the cuffs on his red flannel shirt to his elbows. “And you’re going to string the popcorn, I hope?” He held up his hand, showing how large it was compared with hers.
Kyle had seen a marked change in Anna this morning at breakfast. It was as if getting to talk out her toxic marriage had somehow helped her. Tonight, her ginger hair was tied in a loose knot at the back of her head and she’d put some plastic mistletoe in it to look festive. He liked the gold velour sweater she wore with her jeans and bright red fluffy slippers with Frosty the Snowman on her feet. In the past, Kyle remembered Anna always dressed up for Christmas decoration night.
She wore pink lipstick and her cheeks were tinged nearly the same color. Even her eyes sparkled, although Kyle missed the gold flecks he used to see in their depths. Still, Anna was happier than he’d seen her since coming home. He knew how much Christmas meant to her. It meant the same to him.
“Yes, I’ll save you from a fate worse than death,” she said with a laugh. “I’ll string the popcorn. You just cut, glue and make the paper chains.”
He liked sitting across from Anna. She was quick and efficient with thread, needle and popcorn. Soon, she had ten-foot-long chains lying out in neat order across the length of the table. Kyle was clumsy in comparison, but he knew how to cut the colorful paper into half-inch strips and then use the glue gun to create the chains. Within an hour they had enough to encircle the tree.
There was Christmas music playing in the background and Kyle, because he was tall, got the job of stringing the lights from the top down on the Scotch pine. As soon as he had the tree swathed in lights, he helped Anna place the paper chains and then the popcorn strands around the tree.
Standing back, he smiled at her. “Looks pretty decent, doesn’t it?”
She grinned. “It looks beautiful. Come on, you can help bring out the decorations.” She caught his hand, gave it a quick squeeze and pulled him over to the coffee table. There was one large cardboard box sitting on it. Each year’s decorations were carefully placed on sturdy, thin plastic shelves to keep them in order by the year that they’d been created.
Sitting down, he worked with her to bring out the oldest ones first, which were going around the top of the tree. The paper decorations brought back a lot of warm memories, and as they moved from their six-year-old decorations through age ten, Kyle’s heart squeezed with a fierce love for Anna. Every year, there were memories, some good, some bad. They were all immortalized by two young children with color crayons, construction paper, glitter and a gold thread for hanging each of them on the tree.
Anna had carefully and painstakingly preserved each year’s worth of events with both their families. Kyle remembered all of them sitting at the oak table, each of them cutting and drawing one main event that had taken place in their life that year. When the family was finished, there was a paper story of meaningful events that had occurred that particular year before Christmas. Anna had put photos with them, as well. For Kyle, it was an unexpected treasure trove, and it once more served to tell him just how important, how central, Anna had always been in his life.
For the next three hours, they talked, reminisced and then hung the oldest decorations around the top of the tree first. Some were of people, a photo with a name, who had passed on. Kyle remembered getting a black pony named Bart at age seven, and he’d drawn and colored it and then hung it proudly on the tree. As they reached the bottom of the tree, Anna handed him new construction paper, glitter, scissors and an ink pen.
She sat down opposite him. “Now you need to think about what decorations from this past year you’d like to make.”
Kyle scowled. “What? An M-4 rifle? A Kevlar vest?”
“Whatever was important to you this year.”
“What are you going to create?” he wondered.
“I’m going to make an image of you,” she said, smiling softly. “You came home.”
His heart twinged. “Then, I’ll try to draw you. Not that I’m an artist,” he protested.
“Okay, that sounds good,” Anna murmured, giving him a wicked look. “Just get my hair and eye color right.”
“Oh, I think I can do at least that much,” he said, picking up some crayons. For the next twenty minutes, Kyle carefully drew Anna. Only this time, he drew a large pink heart behind her. He watched her quickly draw him, black hair and all, using some glitter for a leather belt around his waist and detailing his black combat boots on his feet.
She then drew a picture of Trevor Bates, their foreman who had died in the car wreck. Anna carefully cut Trevor’s face and shoulders from a photo she’d taken of him previously and glued it in place. Kyle saw moisture come to her eyes. She wiped them from time to time as she drew the man who had been like a second father to her. Anna was easily touched by everything and everyone. Kyle thought about the two babies she’d miscarried. He couldn’t imagine the pain and anguish she’d gone through twice. He tried not to think too much about it because it was obvious her husband had not offered support during her times of gut-wrenching loss and grief.
When Kyle studied the tree, he clearly saw all the events from age six through today. There were a lot of people, cows, dogs, horses and depictions of events that had affected the lives of those who lived on this century-old ranch. The last decoration with Kyle’s likeness was at age twenty-two when Anna had drawn him in his SEAL uniform. And for the babies she’d lost, she’d drawn two cherub angels, their name on each one. For Kyle, this was more like a Tree of Life than a Christmas tree. The Native Americans of old had their winter count buffalo hides on which they drew large events that had occurred to the tribe each year.
As he stood there, Anna close to him, Kyle saw the tree as much more than celebrating a holiday. It reflected both happy and sad moments for two close families. It was really about life. Every year, however, Anna had created a U.S. flag and hung it with the rest of the decorations when he’d left at twenty-two and never returned until now.
There were seven years where she made and hung that flag. Kyle wondered if it was Anna’s way of remembering him. He didn’t have the guts to ask her. Maybe it was a way for her to remember him but not cause her husband to get angry or jealous. Maybe someday he’d ask. But not tonight. He wanted this to be a happy event for both of them.
“Where will you go when you return to the SEALs?”
Rousing himself, he said, “Back to Afghanistan. My platoon has two more months of deployment over there before we return to Coronado.” Kyle felt his heart sink because Anna tucked her lower lip between her teeth for a moment. That was a sign Anna was worrying. “It’s safe,” he lied. “Things are quieting in that country because of the drawdown. Most of the military is going home.” Another lie. Hell, the black ops units were busier than ever now with increased patrols since most of the American forces were leaving. The black ops community was taking over the vacuum left by the military’s departure.
“Those families more than deserve their loved ones home,” Anna said fiercely under her breath, barely held emotion driving her words.
“Too many wars for too long,” Kyle agreed somberly.
“Will your team come home for good, then?”
He heard the hope, the terror, in her voice. “Some will.” That wasn’t a lie. When Kyle looked over at her, he could feel her devastation. Dammit. “Tell me what’s in your future, Anna. What are you going to be doing?” He wanted off this topic for many reasons.
“Just running the ranch. After I get my head healed, I intend to start looking for a new ranch foreman. It will be a long search and it will take a while. I’m hoping by spring, we’ll have hired someone new. We can’t operate without one.”
He studied her, watching the worry leave her eyes. Thank God, Anna was easily distracted. “What about your personal life?” And Kyle held his breath, waiting.
She smiled wryly. “What personal life? I’ll be here, running the ranch. I’m not about to go out and hook up with someone else. I’ve got a bad track record, Kyle.”
“I see.” He tried to keep the relief out of his tone.
“I’m taking accounting courses online,” she offered. “I need to really get into running the ranch from the budget end. Trevor always did that, but I need to be more hands-on, Kyle. I have to know where we’re at financially.”
“That sounds like a good plan,” he congratulated her.
Her eyes sparkled and she lifted up a dollar sign she’d made and glued green glitter on it. “See? Money. Accounting. All a part of my life this year and next.”
Kyle wanted to reach out and pull her up from the table and bring her into his arms. “I think you ought to draw some gold coins, too. For good luck for the next year.”
Tonight was so perfect. It was twenty days until Christmas. And he wanted Anna to enjoy this time because, obviously, she’d had a lot of death and losses in her life that he’d never known about. Until now.
She laughed. “Not a bad idea. I think I’ll do it.” She walked forward, leaning down and touching the decoration he’d made of her. “Why did you put a heart on it, Kyle?” She twisted a look up at him.
“Because you’ve always owned my heart, Anna.” His throat tightened. He wanted so badly to touch her. “You’re important to me,” he whispered thickly, reaching out, easing strands of hair away from her shoulder.
There was hope in her eyes. Wild hope. God, how he wanted to have their lives have a happy ending. He saw color come to her cheeks over his grazing contact. Anna was a woman now. She had grown up strong and beautiful. Her lips parted, as if asking him if he would kiss her once again.
Wordlessly, Kyle framed her face, leaned down, closed his eyes and felt Anna lift her chin, wanting this kiss as much as he did. Everything faded around him as he barely brushed her lips. She was so lush, warm and responsive beneath his slow exploration of her. She touched his shoulder tentatively and he slid his hand down her spine, pulling her against him. Kyle wanted to give her the choice whether she wanted this next step, this intimacy he craved so desperately with Anna.
She stepped forward, her breasts brushing lightly against his chest. He groaned as he felt her melt against him, felt her mouth open fully to his, eager, her tongue delicately touching his. Fire bolted down through Kyle, his breathing ragged as he curved his mouth powerfully against hers. He heard a soft sound in her throat, knew she liked what he was offering her. His mind dissolved, his body came online, his erection painful against the zipper of his jeans. She could turn him on in a heartbeat. Her hair swirled across his cheek as he cupped the back of her head, wanting deeper access to Anna.
Where was this going? Where did he want it to go? In the past Kyle would not have thought enough about what the woman wanted. But Anna held his heart. She always had, and right now as she sank fully against him, letting him know she wanted him, Kyle had to think. He couldn’t just take her to bed. He had to know, understand, what Anna expected from him.
Tearing his mouth from hers, Kyle held her close, felt her trembling as she slowly lifted her lashes. He saw flecks of gold in her dark green eyes, saw yearning in them, heard it in her broken breathing, the way her fingers dug into his shoulders.
“Anna,” he rasped, “tell me what you want.” He searched her face. When he had left her at twenty-two, they’d made love one last time. And Anna had broken down in tears afterward, clinging to him, never wanting to let him go. Kyle had never felt like such a bastard. He was going to leave her and he was hurting her as he held her, weeping, in his arms. He didn’t want a replay of that. Ruthlessly, he stared down at her, their hearts racing wildly against one another as the moment strung tautly between them.
“Love me?” she whispered, sliding her fingers across his stubbled jaw.
Closing his eyes, he heard the closeted grief in her voice. “You know I have to leave,” he told her harshly as he opened his eyes. Kyle had to warn her. “God, Anna, I’ve done nothing but hurt you over the years. I’ve left you crying....”
She drew in a deep breath, fearlessly holding his burning gaze. “I’m older now, Kyle. Hopefully a little more realistic.” Anna looked away for a moment, her hand moving restlessly across his shoulder. “I know you’re going away. I accept it.... I don’t like it, but I’m accepting it....”
Just as she was accepting of her miscarriages. Kyle winced inwardly, seeing the pain in the recesses of her eyes. God, he couldn’t do this. “I can’t... I don’t want to hurt you again, Anna.” He slid his fingers through her thick ginger hair, watching her eyes close, feeling her absorbing his touch, remembering him. Remembering what they’d shared before.
She smiled sadly. “Life is full of pain and joy, Kyle. We both know that now. You make my heart come alive. I’ve never felt so alive as when you’re near me. We have until the end of December. I want that time with you. I want to love you. Hold you. I want to sleep at your side every night.” Anna gave him a pleading look. “Don’t turn me away, Kyle. Let me have this much with you. It’s a gift. You’re a gift to me. I—I don’t want to waste one more minute of it.”
His heart crumbled. Just the anguish, the arousal and need of her turned Kyle inside out. When she leaned her head against his shoulder, brow against the column of his neck, drawing him forward against her with her women’s strength, something broke deep within him. What was he doing? Why the hell had he left the person he loved most in this world behind? What was propelling him to make that kind of decision?
The quietness surrounded them. The Christmas music embraced Kyle. The crackle and pop from the massive fireplace made the sense of homecoming even more intense and powerful within him. He was home. He had the woman he’d never stop loving in his arms, pleading with him to love her.
Dammit.
Anna shouldn’t have to ask. Shouldn’t have to beg. He leaned down, kissing her cheek, sliding his fingers across her nape. His voice was low and thick with emotion. “I love you, Anna. I’ve never stopped loving you....”
