Page 59 of The Soldier and the Cowboy

“I knew you had me covered,” he said.

“You’re such a handsome liar. It’s confusing to my senses.” Now it was his turn to laugh while she smiled. “What do you think they’re doing out there?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say making out,” he said.

“Again?”

“Don’t you remember how we were in the beginning? When we couldn’t get enough of each other, when we couldn’t keepour hands to ourselves.”

“We’re like that now,” she reminded him.

“Ain’t life grand?” he asked, but she didn’t answer. In the time it took him to speak the words, she fell asleep.

On the porch, Bailey and Cal were arranged in a remarkably similar position, only they sat on the glider and his long legs rocked them gently back and forth.

“I should go wash my face,” she said without making any sort of move to leave.

“I think we’ve already established my deep interest in the grease paint,” he said.

“It’s a tad disturbing to me how vested you seem in canoodling a commando,” she said.

“I only like the ones with long hair and smoking hot bodies,” he said.

“You’ve described half the commandos I know,” she said. “Do you think we’ll make it until sunrise?”

“I know I will, thanks to my sedative-induced eight hour nap,” he said.

“You sound a little bitter for someone so well rested,” she said, and he gave her a squeeze. She took his hand and studied it, letting her fingers smooth over the callouses. She touched her callouses to his. “We’re bump buddies.”

“We’re hard working buddies,” he said. “I’ve never met a girl who can keep pace with branding for the entire day. The men were floored. I think they were taking bets on how soon you’d conk out.”

“I know. I bet I’d stay in the whole day. Won fifty bucks,” she said. “Always bet on yourself. That’s my motto.”

“You have a lot of mottos. I’m losing track,” he said.

“I’ll diagram them for you,” she said.

They watched the sun come up that way, bantering, talkingabout nothing. There was no mention of the fact that Bailey was scheduled to leave in a few hours, nor any mention of their relationship—present or future—beyond the mutual admission of feelings for each other.

Inside the SEAL team members began to stir. Bailey slipped away to take a shower while Cal and Maggie made breakfast. Maggie was the only non-military, non-cowboy in the room and therefore the only non-morning person. It was amusing to all of them to watch the usually perky and cheerful woman stumble around dazed and cranky, and they hounded her relentlessly for it.

“Quick, Maggie, what’s four plus seven?” Frog demanded.

“Coffee,” Maggie muttered.

“What’s the square root of nine?” Shimmer asked.

“I’m going to stop you right there. The answer to everything is coffee,” Maggie said.

“Who do you love the most?” Ethan tried.

She paused. “Cam, in a big field of coffee.” She sat and rested her head on the table while Cam rubbed her back and the other men in the group tried to goad her into further conversation.

“There’s something seriously wrong with all of you,” she mumbled, the sound muffled by her arm.

They ate together, sharing the familial sense of accomplishment only a successful mission can bring. Then they said goodbye. The SEAL team members returned to Lackland, ghosting away with no traces as if they’d never been there at all. Cam and Maggie were staying another day. They said goodbye to Bailey and made themselves scarce.

Sully would arrive soon. Cal needed to address the issues between them, but he kept putting it off.

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