Page 152 of Cowboys & Navy SEALs

“No.” She couldn’t imagine where this was headed.

“I have a close friend Sani who’s Navajo. I allow him to hunt on my property. He’s really good with the bow. Killed an eight-point-buck. The thing was monstrous.” He held out his hands. “The rack was this wide.” He stopped, giving her a sheepish grin. “You don’t care about hunting, do you?”

“Not really,” she admitted, “but I know plenty about it. I grew up in Alabama, after all.”

He was impressed. “Do you know how to shoot?”

A smile flickered over her lips. “Like I said, I’m from Alabama.”

“Corbin’s a sharpshooter. Another thing the two of you have in common.”

“I’m not a sharpshooter by any stretch of the imagination, but I know how to handle a gun.”

He grinned. “I knew I liked you. Oh, Corbin can sing too.”

“Really?” Now that she found intriguing.

“He has a great voice, can even play the guitar.”

“I had no idea.”

“See, the two of you are more alike than you realize.” He smiled broadly. “You’re a great singer, by the way. I watched you on YouTube.”

The admiration in his voice was touching. No matter how many times people gave her compliments on her music, it never got old. In some small way, every time she took the stage she healed a small part of herself because performing was the one thing she could be proud of—evidence that she’d broken out of the bonds of her childhood and made something of herself, despite all obstacles. “Thanks.”

“The wig doesn’t look bad on you, but I like your real hair much better.”

“Me too.” She touched her wig, wondering why she was wearing it in the cabin when the only other person here right now knew who she was. Then again, someone could see herthrough the windows or drop by the cabin unannounced.Better to be safe than sorry.

He waved a hand. “Anyway, back to the story, Sani once told me something that stuck with me. A grandfather was speaking to his grandson telling him how every living person has two wolves within … warring for dominance. The first is anger, fear, greed, malice. The other is kindness, benevolence, hope, faith. ‘But Grandfather, which wolf will win?’ the grandson asked.”

Delaney waited for the rest, but Wallace just sat there, studying her. She was starting to recognize a pattern here. Wallace wanted her to be an active learner—giving the answer only when she was ready to receive it. A smile touched her lips as she asked the question dutifully. “What did the grandfather say?”Two wolves inside every person. An interesting concept.It certainly described her. Even as the thoughts rolled through her mind, she could feel something building inside her, knew somehow that Wallace’s answer would be significant.

“Which wolf will survive?” His tone was light, musing, a direct contrast to the intensity in his eyes. “The one you feed.”

Chapter Sixteen

Birchwood Springs really does need better places for shopping, Corbin thought as he pulled into the driveway of the cabin. He went to three different shops and couldn’t find any decent pajamas. Finally, he settled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Delaney would probably think he was crazy for going shopping, but he was just trying to think of something nice to do for her … something to let her know that he wasn’t a bad guy.

After she left his room the night before, he’d lain awake thinking about their conversation and the kiss. He thought he might regret telling Delaney about what happened in the Philippines, but he didn’t. He wanted her to know everything about him, as he wanted to know about her.

He reached for the bags and transferred them all to his left hand, then grabbed the bouquet of flowers with his right. On impulse, he’d grabbed the flowers as he was leaving the grocery store. Was it too much? He hoped not.

As he walked to the door, his skin prickled with the knowledge that someone was watching him. He looked at the cabin to his right, about half a football field away. A man had gotten out of his car, also going into his cabin. When he realized that Corbin had made eye contact, he smiled and waved. Corbinnodded and offered a brief smile. The heavyset man was bald and looked to be in his early sixties. He seemed harmless, but under the circumstance Corbin had to be cautious about everyone.

“Hey,” Pops said when he stepped into the cabin. Pops was reclining on the couch, watching TV with his hands behind his head, his feet propped on the coffee table.

“Hey.” Corbin looked around. “Where’s Delaney?” He hoped she hadn’t been too upset when she realized he was gone. She was sleeping so peacefully when he left that he hated to wake her. And, he needed some time to sort through things, try to figure out the best way to get through to Delaney. What he most wanted at this point was for her to give him a chance.

“In her room, working on songs.”

Corbin placed the bags on the kitchen table and began removing the groceries, then placed the perishables in the refrigerator. “Who’s the guy next door? The portly bald guy?”

“Oh, that’s Gus Ridley.”

“Do you know him very well?”

“Yes, he and his wife Jean have been coming here for years.”

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