Authors: Lindsay McKenna
“It sounds like a plan,” she whispered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
T
HEY
SAT
TOGETHER
at the table the next morning, snow falling quietly outside the kitchen window. Gabe was at Bay’s elbow, listening to her quiet, strained voice. She’d gotten up early, and he’d automatically snapped awake. After making them coffee, she’d slid her hand into his and led him to the table, telling him she had to talk with him in detail about the rape.
Gabe tried to keep his face without expression, holding her hesitant gaze, listening to her give details of the rape that made him want to vomit. Bay’s face was tight with tension, her gaze sometimes veering away from his as she recounted her capture in the cave, shame in her voice.
Gabe held Bay’s hand in his, feeling the cool dampness of her fingers. The flashback had shaken her to her soul. He could see it in the skittishness in her eyes. Her voice was hoarse and sometimes broke. He knew in his heart how terrifying this was for her to recount it to him. Her courage was blinding, and all Gabe could do was sit and listen, to be a witness. Interrupting Bay would have done her a disservice as the words tumbled out of her mouth.
Finally, Bay closed her eyes and hung her head. Drawing in a broken breath, she forced herself to look up and lock on Gabe’s dark eyes that held so many unspoken emotions in them. There was no judgment in them, and for that, she was relieved.
“That’s all there is, Gabe.” Bay sat up, rolling her shoulders beneath the blue silk robe, unconsciously wanting to get rid of the heaviness that invaded her being.
“Let’s take a break,” Gabe suggested, his voice gruff. He gave her a warm look. “Maybe a bath? I can draw one for you.”
She seemed to perk up a little at the suggestion. Bay had said she felt dirty, that she couldn’t get clean. That is what rape did to a woman, made her feel filthy inside, and there was no way to make the feeling go away.
“Yes, I’d like that.” Bay drowned in his tender smile, his fingers wrapping more firmly around hers, squeezing them to reassure her.
Gabe stood up. “Come here, baby.” He held his hands out toward her. His heart ached with love for her as Bay placed her cold hands within his. Gently pulling her up to her feet, he brought her against him. She was exhausted. Bay slid her arms around his waist, resting her head against his shoulder.
“You know, there’s an old SEAL saying,” Gabe rasped against her ear, kissing her hair. “You never surrender. It’s not in SEAL DNA to do that. We don’t defend. We take the fight to the enemy.” He felt her relax in his arms, and he was grateful for her trust. “Baby, you’re a SEAL by proxy. You have the heart and soul of one. You’re not a quitter, you’re a fighter. And I’ve watched you since coming home fight to get well.” His voice lowered, and Gabe placed his finger beneath her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. “You’re so courageous, Bay. You’re like a thoroughbred born to run. That’s all you know how to do, and now, you’re running toward the wound that was given to you, and you’re doing everything in your power to heal from it.”
Her mouth quirked. “Some days are sure better than others,” she managed.
“SEALs have bad days, too. We always say the only easy day was yesterday.” Gabe smiled tenderly at her, seeing hope flare in her eyes.
Hope.
He understood as never before what his job was in her ordeal. It was to pick her up when she fell down. Dust her off and surround her with his love so she could gather her internal resources once more and soldier on. Then, Bay could take her fight to the internal enemy who had wounded her.
Giving a jerky nod of her head, Bay whispered, “Thank you for being here for me. I—I just am not used to these flashbacks. This one had a life of its own with me, Gabe. It scared the hell out of me.”
Kissing her brow, Gabe whispered, “You’ve been home for months and never had one, baby. That tells you something. You’re strong and you’re getting stronger. And the next time I make love with you, I’ll know what not to do to trigger it again.” Gabe cupped her face, looking deep into her shadowed eyes. “We’ll learn together. You’re a woman who loves so completely. You heal others with your smile, your touch and your voice. That’s who you are, Bay, and who you’ll always be. I fell in love with that woman. The rape changes nothing for how I feel about you. I think you need to hear that.”
Her chest tightened. “Yes,” she admitted, drowning in the brilliant green of his eyes. There was such depth and understanding in Gabe. Bay was never so grateful as now for his words, for his love he was giving to her. “I love you so much, Gabe, so much.”
His mouth softened, his eyes grew lambent as he leaned down and caressed her lips, balm for her shaken spirit.
“Come on, let me draw that bath for you. A long, hot soak with jasmine bath bubbles will do you good.”
* * *
G
ABE
PULLED
ON
his coat, ignoring his gloves as he stepped out the kitchen door and into the cold and snow. Another six inches had fallen last night. His breath made jets of white vapor as he walked toward the barn to feed the cow and chickens. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather bomber jacket to keep them warm as he bowed his head to avoid snowflakes in his eyes. The world was quiet in the morning, the gray bare-branched trees standing around the property like silent guardians. There was an undeniable sense of safety to this place, Gabe admitted, opening the door and swinging it wide.
He was greeted by a moo of hello from Elizabeth, the family Holstein cow. The chickens clucked excitedly in a huge indoor cage filled with a dozen boxes for them to lay their eggs in. Gabe inhaled the sweet fragrance of the dried bales of alfalfa stacked at the other end. The barn felt nurturing, and he broke a flake of hay off from a bale and carried it over to Elizabeth, tossing it into her manger.
As he did his morning chores, Gabe felt a building nausea grow within him. He kept replaying Bay’s words about her rape. He couldn’t erase her pain-filled descriptions, and he found himself angry and wanting to scream. An utter sense of helplessness flooded Gabe. He hadn’t been able to protect Bay, and she had paid the terrible price of war. It would have been easier being shot dead with a bullet than to have been raped and have it wound the person repeatedly with violent flashbacks afterward.
A rape survivor would relive that humiliation and torture over and over again, depending upon what triggered it in her. It was a special ongoing hell that Gabe just couldn’t wrap his mind around.
After feeding the chickens, Gabe felt as if he was going to tear in two with rage and grief. Sitting down on a bale of hay, he bowed his head into his hands, trying to breathe and control his writhing emotions. Desperate, he willed everything into his kill box. None of it would go there.
Tears burned in his eyes. He tried to drag in a breath to stop them from forming. It was impossible. A fist of anguish so powerful shook his whole body. Gabe couldn’t stop the grief from being released in sobs. The sounds coming out of him were like those from an animal that had been trapped and was now in howling agony. He didn’t even recognize himself anymore, imprisoned by a backlog of months of suppressing his feelings. The barn absorbed his cries.
Later, silence settled around him. Gabe raised his head, his eyes red-rimmed, his cheeks wet with tears. Elizabeth was calmly chewing the hay, watching him with her big, kind brown eyes. The chickens were making contented clucking sounds, scratching in the dirt for the mash he’d scattered in their pen earlier. A sense of peace stole through Gabe as he rested his elbows on his opened thighs.
Oddly, he felt better. Maybe cleaned out would be a more suitable phrase. Slowly wiping his face that needed to be shaved, Gabe drew in a deep, shaky breath. Scrubbing his eyes free of the last of the tears, he looked out the window above Elizabeth’s stall and saw that it had stopped snowing. He could hear the wind picking up a bit.
Glancing down at his Rolex, Gabe realized he’d been out here for nearly thirty minutes. Where had the time gone? Maybe Bay was right: grief had its own way with a person, that time didn’t matter, but getting it out by crying was the only way to release it in order to start the healing process.
Standing, Gabe brushed off the seat of his pants and moved toward the door. A new, powerful determination flowed through him as he opened it and stepped outside. The world was white and clean around him. As Gabe gazed around, he thought of Bay in those terms. She was like a female white knight fighting for those who had so much less than she did. A courageous warrior.
Moving his fingers through the damp strands of his hair, he felt more centered. Hope filtered into his heart, dissolving the leftover remnants of his grief and rage. Every day, Gabe told himself, was a step in the right direction. Every day. And he’d be there to walk each one with Bay.
* * *
“H
ERE
, I
WANT
you to open this before we go over to open gifts with Poppy and my mom,” Gabe coaxed.
Bay was sitting on the couch, listening to her beloved Christmas music, dressed in a soft emerald-green sweater and slacks. Her hair was long and thick, softly curled around her face. She smiled as he bent over the couch and handed her the small white box wrapped in a red ribbon.
“For me?” she asked, meeting his shadowed eyes. She shared a trembling smile of thank-you with him.
“Just for you.”
“Come, sit.” Bay patted the cushion next to her.
Gabe came around and sat about a foot away from her, watching her. “I wanted to give this to you in private, Bay.” He motioned toward it. “I think you’ll understand why once you open it.” His heart beat a little harder as he saw the curiosity come to her clear blue eyes. It had taken Bay a week to recover from the flashback. Him, too, understanding if one partner was deeply affected, the other would be, as well. They were learning to live through the blows but not be destroyed by them.
She gently touched the bow with gold thread among the red of the ribbon. “What is it?” she asked, giving him a teasing look.
“Something you lost, baby. But now, it’s returning to you.”
Intrigued, she slowly pulled at the ribbon, the bow falling aside. With her fingers, she pried the lid open. Her eyes widened. Bay gave a small cry, jerking her head up and staring openmouthed at Gabe. He had a serious expression on his face, eyes burning with warmth, the corners of his mouth moving upward.
“My engagement ring!” She took out the delicate gold ring with the four channel-cut blue sapphires in it. “Oh, Gabe...” The Taliban had taken the ring from her Kevlar vest. And the jaguar that he’d carved, the heart he’d carved for her their first Christmas together, had been lost, as well.
“It’s something good from our past coming back to you, baby. I had a jeweler in San Diego remake it for you. Do you like it?”
Her mouth curved into a sweet smile filled with joy. His heart mushroomed, and he felt intense love for his brave woman warrior. Gabe wanted to haul her into his arms and love her until she melted in his embrace.
“Like it?” Bay held out the ring toward him. “I love it, Gabe. Will you put it on my finger?” She smiled into his eyes.
Picking up her long, slender hand, he eased the ring back on to her finger where it belonged. “There,” Gabe murmured, meeting her luminous look. “Now you’re a woman who’s engaged to a badass SEAL.” He grinned.
Bay threw her arms around Gabe, hugging him, kissing his chin, nose, mouth and cheek, anything she could find on him to kiss. Bay felt him begin to laugh, his arms sliding around her. He lay down on the couch with her resting on top of him. She kissed him some more. Gabe tunneled his fingers through her silky hair, capturing her and bringing her down hotly against his mouth. She moaned, capitulating to his superior strength, content to simply be in his arms. “Thank you,” she quavered against his mouth. “You inspire me...”
Gabe settled Bay across his lap, her arm going around his shoulders. “I’m inspired, too,” he said, holding her left hand and watching the sapphires gleam in the light. “How about tomorrow?” He looked up at her. “Marry me tomorrow at the courthouse in Dunmore?”
Startled, Bay gasped. “Tomorrow?”
He shrugged. “Both mothers are here. They both wanted to be able to attend our wedding. Why not now?”
“You’re serious, aren’t you, Griffin?”
“Never more, baby.”
Her heart tripled in time. “Yes, I’d love that, Gabe. There’s no need to wait, and I know Grace and my mama really wanted us to get married at a time they could both be here.”
He patted her hip. “Good, because it’s time.”
“I can wear my grandma’s gown,” she said, wistful. “And I’m sure Mama will call everyone on the mountain and invite them to come to our home for a party afterward.”
Nodding, Gabe said, “Sounds like a plan to me.”
“Are you really ready to do this?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Bay shrugged. “I don’t know...it just seems out of the blue.”
“SEALs always have a plan, baby. You should know that by now.” Gabe smiled wickedly.
She dropped a kiss on his mouth. “We’re going to give them the best Christmas present they’ve ever had. I can hardly wait!”
* * *
A
GOOD
KIND
of tiredness lapped at Bay. She lay in bed with Gabe, her head nestled against his shoulder. Barely opening her eyes, she whispered, “This has been the best Christmas, ever.”
Gabe kept his eyes closed, absorbing her warmth, her womanly curves against him. “Best one I’ve ever had, too, baby.”
Nodding, Bay knew from stories of his youth, he’d had no Christmases to speak of with Grace a single working mother. She spread her fingers across his chest, through his silky hair, his powerful heart beating slowly beneath her palm. He was a hero in her eyes and heart.
Something primal moved through her. She wanted to love Gabe, give back to him. No matter how battered she had become emotionally, Bay was willing to risk everything to love this scarred warrior who continued to love her with a fierceness that took her breath away. She could give him her touch, her kisses, her breath and her love in adoration of his loyalty, his steadfastness and fearlessness in the face of the overwhelming odds they’d faced together.