Holidays on the Ranch (Burnt Boot, Texas #1)(24)

“Anybody hurt?” Polly yelled.

“No, but I’m layin’ low the next few weeks. Looks like Burnt Boot is in for a war,” a voice said at the back of the parking lot.

“Let’s go home and get out of their fightin’. I came here thinkin’ a little town like this would be peaceful, but this is the last time I want to see any of their feuding shit,” Finn said.

“Now you know why that woman who sold Salt Draw wanted out of here,” Callie said.





Chapter 7


Finn was in that state between dozing and sleep when he heard whining. When he opened his eyes, Shotgun was standing beside the bed, and he figured that the dog needed to make a trip outside. So he pulled on a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and a thermal shirt, shoved his feet down into his boots, and opened the door.

Shotgun didn’t race out into the hall but did a semi-low crawl.

Joe made noises like gunfire from his perch, where he alternately preened his tail feathers and pranced from one end to the other, shooting imaginary police. Weren’t birds supposed to sleep at night? Chickens tucked their heads under their wings and went to roost. Why didn’t that damn bird do the same?

“Take cover, Finn. They’re low. Don’t move,” Callie said in clipped words.

She was stretched out flat on her stomach with her hands over her head. “Maybe the ghillie suit will keep them from seeing us. Be still, Finn. Breathe easy. Don’t look up.”

Finn sat down beside her on the floor and gently touched her shoulder. He recognized the position. She was back in Afghanistan, and they were on a mission. She was wearing a camouflage ghillie suit, and they were covered in camo-netting. The enemy was flying low above them, and she was afraid they’d use thermal imaging to locate them.

She grabbed the place where he’d touched her and groaned. “I’m hit, Finn. Don’t know how bad, but it hurts like a son of a bitch.”

“Callie, wake up. It’s Joe doin’ the shootin’. I swear his owner must have watched cop shows nonstop.” He shook her shoulder.

“Don’t touch it,” she gasped.

“Callie, it’s a nightmare,” he whispered.

Her eyes flew open and scanned the area. She touched her head and then her arms.

“Shhh,” she said.

“You’re on my ranch in Salt Draw.” He pulled her up to a sitting position and shifted her into his lap. She was sweating bullets and shivering at the same time. He knew exactly what she’d been dreaming because he’d had the same nightmare too many times to count.

“Finn, I’m not going to die, am I?” she whispered.

“You are not hit. It was a bad dream.”

“It was so real,” she said.

He kissed her on the forehead and held her tighter. “I know. It was probably brought on by all the noise of the evening with the firecrackers and the stampede. I didn’t want to go to sleep either.”

She opened her eyes wider and scanned the room. “I haven’t had one in almost a month. I thought they were done with.”

She shivered again, and he grabbed the quilt and wrapped them both in it. “I’m not sure they’ll ever be gone. We saw a hell of a lot of bad stuff, Callie. It’s burned into our subconscious. Did you do the psych eval before they turned you loose?”

“It was required, and besides, they had to have it on file before they’d let me have Martin. I hate this feeling. My insides are quivering and my heart is still racing.”

“Just be still and watch the flames in the fireplace. That always helps me. That’s why I chose the room I did.” He gently massaged her tense shoulders. “Why were you on the sofa?”

“This is the second nightmare. The first one was right after I went to sleep. We were arguing about not getting to eat Christmas dinner, and then the bombs hit the base and there was blood everywhere. I woke up, crying because you had blood on you. I couldn’t go back to sleep in that room, so I came out here,” she said.

“Red punch pouring out over the floor and Christmas trees and firecrackers. It all went together to make a hell of a nightmare. Add that to Joe shooting up the whole living room with his gun noises, and it’s pretty good fodder for a nightmare,” he said.

“Hold me for a little while longer,” she said.

“As long as you need me, Callie. I’m right here.” He leaned his head forward and rested his chin on the top of her head.

“Call the coroner,” Joe squawked.

***

Callie wasn’t surprised when Martin showed up at the breakfast table clutching his stomach and saying he couldn’t go to school. She’d suffered with the same symptoms too many times to count when she’d been his age. But staying home another day wouldn’t help one bit.

“Time for the magic?” she asked.

He nodded.

Finn looked up from his morning coffee. “Magic?”

“Callie makes a magic cup of stuff that helps my stomach settle down when I’m afraid. Mama used to make it, but Callie does it better,” Martin explained.

“What’s in it?” Finn asked.

“A witch doesn’t reveal her secrets, not even during the Christmas season,” Callie said.

She poured half a cup of milk in a mug, added a package of hot chocolate mix, a few drops of almond extract, and enough liquid coffee creamer to fill the cup. She stirred it well, stuck it in the microwave for one minute, and pulled it out.