Holidays on the Ranch (Burnt Boot, Texas #1)(11)

“If you still remember that hellacious fight, then why did you let me and Martin stay? I’m surprised you didn’t tell Otis to take me to Siberia,” she said.

“I know you, Callie. You’re a hard worker, and when you give your word, it’s as good as gold. And you saved my life, so it’s my turn to repay.” He grinned.

She kicked backward and landed a soft blow to his shin. “You saved my hide, too, so don’t give me that shit.”

“Ouch! If you’d have missed, you could have killed the cat.”

“I didn’t hurt you, so stop whining,” she said. “I really did try to find you, Finn.”

“I lost my phone in an airport on the way home. I tried to find you, too, Callie. I figured you’d found some rich preppy guy and had a big wedding, settled down in a mansion, and started a brand-new life.”

“I thought you’d convinced Lala to give up her lifestyle and move to the States with you at the last minute,” she said. “I’m not a damn bit surprised that she’s a spy or that she picked you out from the whole crew to get involved with.”

“Why?”

“She picked out the best-lookin’, hottest soldier on the base,” she answered.

“You didn’t say that over there.”

“We were partners and it was frowned upon, and besides, I didn’t have the nerve to break the rules and then Lala was in the picture. I never did like that hussy. I knew she was trouble. I just thought it was a different kind of trouble than it was,” she said.

“What kind was that?”

“I figured her for the type who was looking for a free ride to the States, not a spy,” she said.

Finn leaned his head back on the sofa arm.

“Don’t you go to sleep in that position, or you’ll have a terrible crick in your neck tomorrow morning,” she warned.

He slid one eye open and turned his head slightly. “There’s Shotgun at the door. You going to let him in or do I have to run across the cold floor again?”

“It’s your dog. My cat uses a litter pan,” she said.

“You are a hard woman, Brewster.”

“You knew that when you gave me a job.” She laughed softly.

His Callie was soft and gentle, but she had sass and a bite. Not many people even got to see the soft side of her; more were subjected to the sassy woman who had had to stand her ground in a man’s world.

***

Callie heard Martin moan. She quickly threw the quilt back, picked up the cat, and padded barefoot down the hallway.

“Everything all right?” Finn followed her, his arm around her waist.

“Shhh. Sometimes he has bad dreams about the shooting. The man chased him down the alley, threatening to kill him.”

Shotgun ambled down the hallway and crawled up on the bunk at Martin’s feet. His tail thumped a couple of times and then he curled it around his body and went to sleep. Callie set the kitten down in the hallway, expecting it to follow her up the hall or maybe even limp into her room, but it sniffed the air, then made its way to the bunk bed. It meowed pitifully until she picked it up and set it on the bed. It curled up in the curve of Shotgun’s belly.

“Thank goodness, he’s decided to sleep on a bottom bunk. The kitten couldn’t get down from that top one,” Finn said.

“The top one is his tree house. He told me so right after he said his prayers,” Callie said.

Finn dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Well, I’ve walked you to your tent, Brewster. Maybe we can get a good night’s sleep without the bombs and the gunfire waking us up. Good night.”

“Good night, Finn. See you in the morning.”

“Hey, speaking of the service, I don’t know about your fitness program, but I’ve picked out a five-mile path around the ranch for a run and moved my gym equipment into the old bunkhouse. It’s not very warm, but then who wants heat when they’re sweating? And I target practice once a week, not any particular day, but at least once a week.”

“We work out every day?” she asked.

“Every weekday. I rest on Saturday and Sunday,” he answered.

“What time?” she asked.

“Right after chores. Usually around eight.”

“Sounds good to me. Martin will be in school by that time. Shootin’ range?”

“Got an area picked out. You been keepin’ up with practice?”

“Once a month, but it’s been indoors.”

“Looks like you might need some retraining. We’ll start Monday after we get Martin enrolled in school,” he said.





Chapter 4


The little church was packed when Callie, Finn, and Martin slipped inside. Gladys stood up and motioned for them to join her about midway down the middle section of seats. Callie could feel eyes assessing her, and then lo and behold if Martin didn’t rush in ahead of her to plop down beside Gladys, leaving her to sit beside Finn in a space barely big enough for one person. It was a tight scrunch, and his entire left side was pressed against her right one. She could feel the texture of his jeans on her leg, the stiffness of his freshly ironed shirt through the fabric of her shirt.

Gladys leaned over the top of Martin’s head and whispered, “Glad to see you. It’s not always this crowded, but today is the beginning of the Christmas programs. Each Sunday is a special event. Whole community turns out in December. Come January, though, they won’t care much for plain old preachin’ every Sunday, and it will thin out a lot. That’s Polly up there at the piano. Polly Cleary. We married brothers. Me and her and Verdie all grew up together here in Burnt Boot. I probably told you that, but when you get nearly eighty, you tend to repeat things.”