Chapter Twenty-Two

Two weeks had passed without running into Rick, and Emily prayed the late-night visit to the ranch wouldn’t change that. Ms. Celeste’s favorite horse was about to foal, and after the assurances she’d received that Rick would be nowhere near the barn, she’d agreed to come out.

Filling her lungs with the cool autumn air that blew through her windows, she told herself that being on the broke part of breaking was all but done. There were no more tears to be shed over the silliness she and Rick had attempted, and she was glad that her heart pinched a little less when his face came to mind.

They’d ventured into the great unknown and unfortunately failed.

Bets had been placed.

Police had been called to the scene.

Tequila had been consumed.

Threats doled out and dismissed.

But they were both still standing, so it wasn’t an absolute failure.

So what if some of her never-discussed, hidden-in-the-back-of-the closet-dreams had crumbled?

No one could direct the course of love. Only when it found her worthy would it direct her course. And since their’s ended up in a pile of dirt in front of the Broken Spoke, she knew there wasn’t much to be done.

She pulled up next to the barn and climbed out, tugging her medical bag out behind her. Seeing Ms. Celeste standing in the doorway, she waved. “How’s our girl doing?”

“As good as any expectant mama could.”

“She’s done this a time or two, so let’s hope this birth will go just as easy.”

“Don’t let God hear you. My youngest boy gave me a run for my money and made all kinds of specialists attend to his birth. Looking back, I realize it was just his way of having a bit of attention, but good Lord…he gave us a minute’s worry.”

“The youngest always seem to. My mama will tell you Tim is the one that kept her up at night.” Pulling out her bedroll, she walked toward the barn. “You can head on up to the house. I’ll keep you updated.”

“I’ve got a thermos of coffee, some sandwiches, and a box full of brownies waiting for you.”

“My goodness, you’re taking care of me.”

“You’re tending to my favorite horse,” the older woman pointed out. “There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Emily set down her bag and stepped inside the barn. “Are we going to be okay?”

“Of course. I want you and Rick to be happy. And if it’s not with one another, then better we find out sooner as opposed to later.”

“Really?”

Ms. Celeste patted Em’s hand. “Yes. In my selfish heart, I wanted you as a daughter-in-law but understand that you and my son couldn’t work it out. It was a bit of a pipe dream, and I’m just happy that y’all gave it a try.”

“We’re just too oppositional.”

“I’m not going to give you all the arguments why it might work.”

“And I appreciate that.”

Hooking their arms together, she led Emily into the barn. “Let’s check on my horse and see how she is doing.”

Emily walked alongside Rick’s mama and was pleased they’d gotten through the uncomfortable part of the evening. “I’m glad we can work together without any awkwardness.”

“Sweet girl, I would never do anything to jeopardize having the best vet in South Texas available for my horses. If my middle son has thrown away his chance at a once-in-a-lifetime love, then so be it. He’ll just be destined to a lonely life devoid of any real meaning. I can’t help those who can’t help themselves, and that includes the ones I gave birth to.”

“He didn’t throw it away. We just…”

“Couldn’t find a way to take God’s blessing and make the most of it?”

Emily stopped and hooked her bag over her shoulder. “Well, no. It’s complicated.”

“Love always is. And the real stuff will require you to be vulnerable in a way nothing in your life never has. It’s the great equalizer. Tests everything you thought you knew about yourself, throws it into the air, and then laughs when you can’t quite make sense of the mess.”

“Was that what it was like for you and Mr. Blakely?”

“Of course. You think that stubborn man was ready to bow down to a force greater than him?”

“No,” she responded with a chuckle that quickly faded to sadness. “Is this love business ever easy?”

“Not if it’s worth anything. But don’t you worry. You’ve avoided all that, since you and Rick didn’t work out. I’m guessing you have a very polite, well-mannered love in your future, and by all accounts, it shouldn’t give you an ounce of trouble.”

She felt her heart pinch. “I don’t mind trouble.”

“Just not the kind my son was serving up?”

She saw hope in Ms. Celeste’s gaze and didn’t think encouraging her would be right. “I don’t know that I’d survive.”

“A gamble, to be sure.”

“The kind that will singe your soul and leave you broken on the shore.” When she didn’t hear an immediate response, she looked up. “It’s—”

“Not anything you’re interested in?”

“Who would be?” Ignoring the voice in her head that shouted, “Me, me,” she tried to keep a neutral expression.

“Those who want to know what the heat of the sun feels like.” Patting Emily’s arm, she shook her head. “It’s not for everyone. It’s been my experience that real love requires an almost certifiable amount of openness. Only the brave dare enter.”

Emily wondered if she had any extra bravery hanging around. Had she used it all up surviving high school and the grueling years of work it took to become a vet?

Lord, she hoped not.

’Cause that would mean she was destined to a life of safe choices, boring love affairs, and adventures that came with safety belts. That wasn’t who she was. Or at least not how she wanted to see herself. Where was her daredevil spirit and take no prisoners sense of fun?

Absent.

That’s where.

She was a risk-taker at heart and had no idea why she was being such a wimp when it came to one of the most important areas of her life.

Why did she think an iron-clad guarantee was possible when it came to love?

Shaking her head at the absurdity, she realized that love, like anything worth having, required risk and faith that, no matter what, landing on her feet was possible.

Did the love she had for Rick deserve that sort of effort?

Feeling a smile form on her lips for the first time in two weeks, she had a niggling feeling it sure as hell did.

…

Rick checked his watch and saw that it was past three in the morning. Looking up at the quarter moon decorating the night sky, he prayed that Em wouldn’t hate him for checking on her. Sliding the barn door open, he saw the west end of stalls lit up and noticed it was quiet. He squared his shoulders and walked down the long aisle with the thermos of coffee swinging in his hand. “Em?”

“Rick?”

“I brought you some hot coffee.”

Popping her head out of the stall, she frowned. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, but…”

She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Thanks.”

He tucked the thermos close to his body and moved within half a foot of her position. He’d missed the shit out of her in the last two weeks and gave himself a minute to soak in her beauty. Her makeup-free face looked tired, and her ponytail hung loosely across her shoulder, and he’d never seen anyone more beautiful. It took every ounce of control not to wrap her in his arms and hug her like it was their last day on earth. “How’s it going in here?”

“I think we’re getting close.”

He walked into the stall and bent down, smoothing his hand over the mare’s neck. “I’ll stick around in case you need another set of hands.”

“I won’t need another set, and you’re not supposed to be here.”

“It’s been two weeks.”

“I know.”

Not sensing any anger in her response, he decided to forge ahead. “Hasn’t any of your mad seeped away yet?”

She sighed, dropped back to the ground, and crossed her legs. “Yes and no. One minute I’m okay, and the next I realize it’s taken on new and interesting forms.”

He sat back against the wall and handed over the thermos, deciding that now was as good a time as any to begin making amends. “I know interfering in your work was wrong.”

“You did a lot more than that. You lieutenant commandeered my life and thought you knew better.”

He felt her disappointment deep in his gut. Nothing to do but let it settle. Sit with it and not try to make the pain less. He’d failed her in the worse way and had to own it 100 percent. “Can I tell you a story?”

“What?”

“I want to tell you what happened in Ramadi.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” He gave her a small smile. “I don’t expect it to change anything between us. I just want you to know. I promise to leave you be right after I’m done.”

“Fine, but don’t think your heroic stories are going to change my mind about you and me.”

“I’m not a hero in the one I’m about to tell you. In fact, it was the day of my biggest failure. I lost two men in combat, and there isn’t a day that passes that I don’t wonder what I could’ve done differently.” He put his hand next to hers in the straw that covered the floor of the stall. “That day in Ramadi is the reason why I’ve been so fucking overprotective of you. If something happens to you, then they’ll have to bury my body next to yours, because I won’t survive.”

“That sounds a little overdramatic.”

Glancing over, he caught her gaze. “That’s the thing, Em, it’s not.”

“Well, go on, then…tell me what happened.”

“Pour yourself some hot coffee. This is going to be a long one.”

“I’m ready, Rick.”

Inching his hand closer, he linked their pinkies together. “The Marines requested our support for an operation in the heart of Ramadi. Muj attacks had been frequent and increasingly bold, and the Marines wanted to disrupt the enemy’s operation with sniper overwatches. Once the powers that be negotiated how it was going down, I took a fire team out along with a handful of Jundis.”

“What are Jundis?”

“They were the locals that worked with us.”

“Okay, go on.”

“We patrolled to our target building in the middle of the night like we always did, and nothing indicated the op would be different than any others.” Remembering the stifling heat and the oppressive weight of his gear, he pulled his thermal shirt away from his body. Had it really only been eighteen months that had passed? Didn’t seem possible since the sound of the souped up “bomber cars” the jihadists were known for filled his ears. The vehicles had always reminded him of something out of Mad Max, and he never could understand how an old Toyota truck could deliver so much destruction. Granted, they were laden with explosives and encased in metal sheets, but that shouldn’t have been enough for them to deliver the same fury as a five-hundred-pound bomb from a coalition jet.

“What was the city like?”

He pulled himself out of the old memories and focused on Em. “The only way to describe it would be Dante’s Seventh Level of Hell. Sweltering heat invariably produced a green haze in our NVGs, which made surveilling the piles of stinking trash for IEDs somewhat challenging.” He shook his head. “The stench didn’t bother me all that much since I’ve spent my life around cows.”

“There’s more than one advantage to being raised on a ranch.”

“True that,” he replied. “The mongrel dogs that came out at night didn’t help, though, and made getting on target challenging. But that night was easy, and our soft-knock technique was on point. The Jundis secured the house and locals in record time, and we were able to set up quickly. The team was rock solid with Hal and Frank as my machine gunners and Lance as our comms guy. I along with Al were the snipers, and it was the team’s objective to secure visibility on a particular intersection and negotiate targets accordingly.”

“Had y’all done this before?”

“Yeah, it was something we took on at least once a week. We knew the drill and didn’t expect that day to be any different.”

“But it was.”

“Yeah. After the call to prayer, the usual action began on the streets. I noticed the body language was a little different than on previous mornings, though, and there was a lot of combat rubbernecking. Not only were the neighborhood women giving the building more attention than it deserved, but we had several peekers surveilling our position. Cars kept driving up to the intersection, dropping off one military-age male and picking up another. My gut was telling me something was about to happen. I checked in with the men and made sure everyone was on point and felt confident that we could handle whatever was coming our way.”

“Could you have packed up and left?”

“No, it was the middle of the day, and if we exfilled, we would’ve been picked off within minutes.” He linked another of their fingers together and let out a breath when she didn’t pull away. “After a while, the bustle died down, and people started evaporating from the streets, and that’s when I knew my gut had been right on. An RPG slammed into the wall of the house, near Frank’s position. The intense blast rattled my teeth and was strong enough to ring my bell and throw me off for a second or two. Bullets cracked around me, and all I could hear were the machine-gun rounds as they snapped like a bullwhip repeatedly next to my head. Rounds chewed up the window in front of me, and my heart pounded out of my chest as I tried to determine if I could hold my position or take cover. We were the main attraction that morning. I lurched to the left and pulled out my Mk11, sliding headfirst into the corner and hoping the wall was thick enough to stop 7.62 rounds. Within seconds, a burst of rounds came in and stitched up the chair I’d been sitting in.”

Shivering, she leaned in. “So, if you hadn’t moved, you’d be dead?”

“Yeah, that had been a close one. But we weren’t done yet. Another RPG hit the side of the window and exploded. We were treated to another ear-splitting, heart-shaking blast. Al took the brunt of it, and there was little I could do. I was pinned down as the rounds cracked and splintered the masonry. I couldn’t return fire or get to my buddy. It was the longest ten minutes of my life. Hal and Frank managed to get into position and get after it, and after about another five minutes, it all died down. Lance, our comms guy, stood in the doorway, and just as I was about to ask for a sit rep, he was hit with a bullet directly in the face.”

“Rick…”

“By the time we exfilled and were on the bird, both men had died. We were in that fucking building for too long, and there is only so much you can do when dealing with that amount of blood loss. Bringing home those men was my responsibility, and I failed on that day. I took it as personally as possible and went out the next day on an op and wasn’t as focused as I should’ve been. We were tasked with an objective that was near impossible, and I got blown to kingdom come and shot up. And when I was airlifted out of the battle space, I didn’t think I deserved to survive because I hadn’t protected the men under my command.”

“So you carried that home and have been trying to make peace with it?”

“Yeah, and believe it or not, I was doing pretty good.”

“Until someone started coming after me.”

“I know I’m not reasonable when it comes to you, and I’m sorry.” He stood, hating how desperately he didn’t want to leave her side but knowing it was the right thing to do. He looked down at her, pouring every ounce of sincerity he had into his words. “I’m hoping time is going to be on our side and that someday, you’ll choose to give me a chance to make it up to you. I’ll wait, no matter how long it takes.”

A tear slid down her cheek, and he did the hardest thing he’d ever done.

He walked away.