To Love and Heal (The Power of Love Series) (3 page)

A slight smile
emerged on Caleb's lips before he pressed them back onto his beer bottle.
Another jumbo sip, which Anna quickly mimicked with her wine.

"I take that
it wasn't so great, seeing as you're sitting here with some guy who's
remodeling your house instead of with him."

"Trust me – I
much prefer your company."  Anna winced her eyes shut as soon as the
words left her mouth.
Too much information,
she chided herself. Still,
if she didn't know any better, there was a subtle look of pleasing surprise on
Caleb's face.

"What about
you?" she asked, about to delve back into the territory that she had just
been trying to avoid.  "Anyone special in your life?"

"Nope. 
Being away at war for most of five years kind of put a damper on things."

"I can
imagine," she said quietly.  "So … will you be going back?"

"Going
back?"

Anna was almost
afraid to say the words. "To Afghanistan."

"Doesn't look
that way, seeing as I resigned my commission."

"Oh
…"  An uncomfortable pause was gratefully blotted out by the sound of
kindling wood crackling. "Will you miss flying?"

"I'll fly
again.  Might not be with the Marines, although joining the Reserves is
always an option."

"Were you
disillusioned?"

Caleb spluttered
on his sip of beer. "What did you say?"

Anna knew she
typically wasn't one to mince words, although this might be one instance when
treading softly would have its merits.  But there was so much that she
wanted to know about Caleb … so much to understand about what he had been
through and where his psyche was at now. "What I meant to say was whether
the war was not what you expected."

Caleb stared hard
at Anna, not seemingly from a place of anger, but more as though he was trying
to get into her own head to determine what her motives were for such a direct
line of questioning.

"I don't think
anyone can truly know what a war is like until they experience it
firsthand.  If it weren't for nine-eleven, I'd probably be in a very
different place in my life right now."

"So that's
why you joined the Marines?"

Caleb took another
swig of beer, which no doubt was helping to ease the normally tightlipped
reserve that surrounded his experiences in Afghanistan. "I was in my last
year of college at the time, about to graduate with a bachelor's degree in
mechanical engineering.  But this seemed so much bigger than anything I
could have accomplished with a degree.  Our country had been attacked, and
there was a very real possibility of it happening again.  As soon as I
graduated, I headed off to Marine Officer Candidate School."

"Did you even
think at the time that the war would still be going on now – more than ten
years later?"

"Not sure
that I gave it much thought at the time.  Anyways, what about yourself?
You said you recently started your own web design business.  How's that
going?"

Caleb's sudden
about-face left Anna feeling as though a rug had been pulled out from under her
feet. "Um … it's going well."

"That's
good.  I guess you can't go wrong getting in that kind of field
nowadays."

Anna forced a
smile, feeling that Caleb's attempt at small talk was equally contrived. The
fire's orange glow illuminated his face in the growing darkness, the scar near
his eye now muted but still visible.  But it was the scars that she
couldn't see – the emotional and mental damage from the war – that she couldn't
help wondering about.

"Well, I
guess I'd better call this my last beer," Caleb said as he rose from the
chair with an empty bottle.  "I'm sure you don't want me drilling
holes through your walls with a hangover."

Anna managed to
laugh despite the gnawing feeling that he was trying to make a fast exit from
her presence.  She tried to tell herself not to take it personally – that
Caleb was dealing with something that had nothing to do with her – yet it stung
nonetheless.

"Have a good
sleep," Anna said as she picked up her glass of wine off the table.

"Are you
staying out here?" Caleb asked, surprise in his voice.

"I'm just
going to finish my glass of wine.  It's hard to leave a fire when it's
this relaxing."

Caleb stared at
her for several moments – long enough that she half expected him to sit back
down.  She was wrong.

"Well, be
careful," he finally said. 

Anna nodded, too
bewildered to verbally acknowledge his concern, which she suspected was
probably just a half-hearted attempt to say
something
before leaving her
for the night.

As the guesthouse
door audibly shut behind her, she reached for the wine bottle and refilled her
glass.  From a disastrous date to an abrupt departure … even Merlot was
coming up short in blunting the sharp disappointment of the evening.

Caleb tossed onto
his side for the umpteenth time, sighing before throwing the covers off in the
hope that the cool night air would dissipate the sweat that shimmered across
his body.  Sleep – once something that had occurred easily and
effortlessly on its own – now came in fits, if it even came at all.  And
it especially would not arrive tonight – not when his stomach was in knots and
his thoughts were daggers against his skull.   He had been equal
parts surprised and pleased when Anna had unexpectedly joined him by the fire,
but her insistence on veering the conversation into an off-limits area had
quickly put a damper on any feel-good moments.  He sighed again, shaking
his head in frustration directed at himself even more so than Anna.  If
there had been another way to handle the situation other than stonewalling and
abruptly changing the subject, then he would have done so.  But even
vaguely alluding to the "I-don't-want-to-go-there" nature of any talk
about the war was allowing it to seep back into the present moment, and he
simply couldn't let that happen.  Walking over to the window, he peered
outside at Anna's lone silhouette next to the fire, feeling like even more of
an ass that he left her there without the genuine explanation she deserved. 
As individual flames flickered before dying back down, he could only hope that
her memory of this night would be just as fleeting.  Because though he
admittedly barely knew her … he somehow still knew enough to realize she was
one person who he did not want to hurt – ever.

TWO

Anna handed her
friend Tina a tall glass of ice tea, then raised her own in a toast. 
"To our new businesses."

Tina clinked her
glass against Anna's, then sat it down on the counter and extracted nip bottles
of vodka and gin from her purse.  After plunking the contents into the
drink, she declared, "There, now it's a Long Island Iced Tea."

Anna watched in
near disbelief, though she was familiar enough with Tina's antics that none of
this should have come as a surprise.  "Tina, I could have spiked the
drink if I knew that's what you wanted."

Tina grinned, her
chin-length neon orange hair almost hurting Anna's eyes.  "Like when
I do I
not
want a nip or two in my beverage?"

Anna shook her
head and smiled.  "You're too much.  Anyways … I was about to
say that I'm really excited for you!  How many artists are successful
enough to have their own gallery?"

"Damn
right!  I can paint circles around all of them!"

"And you're
so humble on top of it all," Anna teased.

"You know
that overconfidence is just part of my artist extraordinaire persona. 
Deep down, I'm just a quivering insecure artist."

"Nice
try."

Tina smirked.
"I thought so, too." She glanced out of the window into the backyard,
freezing in mid-sip of her drink. "Come to
mama
," she purred dramatically,
following up with a low whistle.

Anna moved closer
to the window in order to see the object of Tina's hormonal declaration.

Tina stretched her
neck for an even closer view.  "Who's that hunk of a man, and even
more importantly, why is he in your backyard flexing his muscles?"

Anna
laughed.  "That's Caleb – and he's not flexing his muscles, it looks
like he's changing the bit on his power drill."

"I have
something he can drill –"

Tina's observation
was cut short by a sharp elbow to the ribs.  "What's this – are we
being possessive of our handyman?"

Anna smiled, but
it evaporated as she watched him through the window and felt something inside
of her stir … a connection that she could only assume was not
reciprocated.  "Knock it off.  This poor guy's been through a
lot."

"What do you
mean?"

Anna filled Tina
in on what she knew about Caleb – which admittedly wasn't much, but still
enough to know that his last five years had been anything but pleasant ones.

"Wow,"
Tina said, uncharacteristically subdued.  "I can't even imagine being
sent over there three times. Does he seem like he's on the verge of losing
it?"

"Not at all.
He's just kind of quiet, and I have a feeling he wasn't always that way."

"Well, your
mission – should you choose to accept it – is to put some joy back into that
poor boy's life." 

As she handed Anna
her drink, it was clear that the mischievous Tina was back in action.
"Here – I only took a couple of sips. Go offer him the drink."

"What are
doing?" Anna exclaimed as Tina reached over and popped open three
additional buttons on her peach cotton shirt.

"It's called
cleavage, girl.  If you got it, flaunt it."

"Did I
mention the fact that he's staying in the guesthouse until the project's
complete?"

Tina gasped, then
quickly reached over like a striking cobra to pop open a fourth button, yelping
as Anna playfully slapped her hand before re-buttoning her shirt.  On
second thought, she undid one button, then poured a fresh glass of iced
tea.  "I'll be back," she declared, a teasing "take that"
tone to her voice.

"Do you need
help carrying that glass?"

Anna winked. 
"I think I'm all set."

"Hi
there," she said to Caleb less than a minute later. "I thought you
could use something nice and cold to drink in this afternoon sun."

Caleb seemed momentarily
surprised, but his face quickly softened.  "Thanks."

Anna couldn't help
but stare as he brought the drink to his lips, secretly wishing that she could
trade places with the glass. A knock on the kitchen window cut into her
thoughts.  As they both turned to look, Tina waved vigorously back.

"That's my
friend Tina, who's been admiring you from afar."

A slight grin
crossed Caleb's lips.  Another knock and he squinted to get a better
view.  "Is that some kind of day-go hair?"

Anna laughed.
"Pretty much – and she would actually take that as a compliment."

They both smiled
easily, and Anna couldn't help but notice how his pale gray eyes were even
lighter and more magnetic in the afternoon sun.  Suddenly, his relaxed
expression was replaced with a tight jaw and creased forehead.  The
transformation was so instantaneous that Anna wondered if she had said
something wrong, until she realized that she hadn't actually spoken
again.  A faint rhythmic pounding – barely perceptible a few moments ago –
grew louder as Caleb's face became increasingly strained.  Anna turned
around and looked up at the sky, a gray speck coming into view as it passed
over the tree line.  Despite flying at a relatively high altitude, the
sound grew almost deafening as the helicopter passed overhead. She turned back
to Caleb, whose face was unmoving and eyes vacant as though he had checked out
of his own body.  As the glass in his hand began to tip, she grabbed it
out of his grip, still eliciting no response. 

"Caleb
…"

The sound began to
dim and soon evaporated as the helicopter passed out of an audible range. 
Anna waited several more moments, her mind racing as to what she should do
next. Walk away quietly and leave him alone, rather than making matters worse
by trying to get his attention?  Ask him what was wrong and if there was
anything she could do to help?  The third option seemed to come into its
own without allowing her the chance to fully think it through. Instead, she
instinctively reached over and gently touched his arm.  Caleb flinched,
followed by a quick gasp for air as recognition returned to his face.  He
looked down at his hand as though expecting to find his drink.

"Here,"
Anna said quietly as their eyes met.  She could sense that there was so
much he wanted – perhaps
needed
– to say, yet nothing was forthcoming.
But she was relieved to see the color start to return to his face.
"Caleb," she began haltingly. "If you ever want to talk about
anything−"

"I'm
fine," he declared, though his slightly dazed expression said otherwise.

"All right
then," she said quietly, her eyes boring into his in an attempt to
nonverbally communicate to him that she knew there was more to the story.

As he silently
resumed working as though she was no longer there, Anna could only surmise:
And
what a story it must be.

Anna stared at the computer screen, an unblinking Merlin
staring back as her screensaver.  The real Merlin purred contently from
his usual perch on the computer tower, the only familiar sight that could
prompt her to smile at the moment. Her thoughts were too cluttered with both
confusion and concern over Caleb's earlier reaction to a helicopter flying
overhead, and it had occurred to her that perhaps an explanation was as close
as her computer keyboard.  She waited several moments after typing
"Caleb Brown+Afghanistan War", then finally hit the enter button, her
heart surging as the screen lit up with relevant links. She took a deep breath,
then clicked on the first one.