Page 74 of The Fixer and the Fugitive

“I thought you wanted to get rid of me because you were mad, because I was such a pest.” She had run away with her tail between her legs, filled with shame as usual, certain he had been able to see her for the nothing she was.

“Are you joking? If my men hadn’t had their tongues lolling, I probably would have hit on you myself. I’m a happily married man now, but you’re a legend, girl. In fact I can’t believe I’msitting here with you, making casual conversation. Ethan’s going to flip.”

Celeste stared straight ahead, dazed. She had worn her shame like a shield, certain the first thing people saw about her was that unwanted, untrained, unskilled little girl. But what if that wasn’t true? What if it had never been true? And what if the thing people saw in her was the truth? What if she was actually worthwhile, warts and all? What if she was working so hard to become perfect for nothing because she already had value as she was?

“Anyway, I wanted to touch base and thank you for the help all those years ago. You saved us a heap of work.”

She shook her head to clear it, making herself focus on the moment. “No, sir, thank you. I don’t think it’s hyperbolic to say you changed my life that night. If not for your intervention in contacting The Colonel…well, things likely would have turned out much different.”

“I tend to think things turn out exactly as they’re meant to, so you never know. If he hadn’t heard about you through me, I’m certain someone else would have mentioned. The Colonel has an eye for talent and potential, and you had it in spades. And from what I’ve heard over the years, you lived up to and then exceeded every estimate.”

“Thank you, sir. That’s very kind.”

He stood and glanced uncertainly toward the house with a slight nod of his head. “Do me a favor and keep an eye on that one. Like it or not, I have a vested interest in his wellbeing.”

“Me, too,” she said, and he laughed.

“Good day, Sergeant Major.”

“Good day, sir,” she said, standing. She waved to Leo and Esther as they headed to join Ridge at the helicopter, waiting on the porch until they were gone, and then she turned and went inside her house.

Chapter 33

Sam sat on the couch staring into space. Celeste perched beside him with more space between them than she usually gave.

“How are you holding up?” she asked.

“Not great,” he said. When he faced her, his eyes looked hollow. He’d been hit with the one-two punch of learning the truth of her past, followed by a run in with the current husband of the onetime love of his life. Not to mention the racist oaf who demanded his head on a platter for the sole sin of being the wrong color, from the wrong country. All in all not a great day to be Din Chatti. “How about you?”

“Same,” she said. She took a breath. “It’s been a long, sort of terrible day. Maybe we should call it a night and try again tomorrow.” They needed to have a long conversation, the sort that went better after rest.

Sam swallowed hard and faced forward again with a little nod.

He can’t even look at me anymore,she thought but quickly pushed it away. She wasn’t exactly rational at the moment. It was possible exhaustion was clouding her emotions. Tomorrowshe was certain things would look brighter. Probably not everything, but some things. And she’d have more energy to deal with them.

She went upstairs, took a long, hot shower, crawled between the sheets, and fell immediately asleep.

Sometime later she woke with a start, certain someone was in her room. And before she could reach for her gun or talk herself down, he spoke.

“How can you sleep at a time like this?” Sam demanded.

Squinting, Celeste snapped on the light. Sam stood beside her bed, frowning. “How long have you been there?” she croaked.

“I don’t know. I poked my head in to assure myself you were still there and okay and got sort of lost staring at you while you slept.”

“Creepy but okay,” she said.

“Seriously, Celeste, how can you sleep?” he demanded tossing his hands in the air in frustration.

“Not well when you’re yelling at me. Why are you yelling at me?”

“Because I’m so mad.”

“What did I do?” she asked, voice going small and quiet. How had she messed up so badly without even knowing?

He sank to the bed beside her and gripped her shoulders. “I’m not mad at you. How could I be mad at you? So brave and kind and amazing. I’m mad at those idiot men who ruined your orchard. All your big plans to bring it back to life, and it’s gone. Gone because of me. I swear. Everything I touch falls to ruin.” He shoved his hands in his hair, dislodging it at his temples in the universalI’ve lost my mindgesture.

“What are you talking about? None of this is your fault.”

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