Cattle Valley 26 - Shadow Soldier (3 page)

Aaron picked out a yellow crayon from the carousel. He stared at it and grinned at the name. “Specialist Don Lymon, do you mind wearing a helmet in a colour that’s called banana mania?”

Fortunately, the specialist stayed quiet as Aaron finished the image. Done, he carried the picture into the bedroom. Opening his closet, Aaron added it to the pile. As he sank to his knees in front of the ‘stack of crazy’, Aaron struggled to breathe.

He turned away from the closet and crawled to the bed. The headboard meant more to him than anything else he’d ever owned, and it had only been officially his for a couple of hours. What did that say about him, he wondered.

As he lay across the pillows, Aaron traced the carved reliefs, knowing each one had been created with love. Maybe he should talk to Dr Pritchard about his inappropriate attachment to an inanimate object.
Or
, he thought,
maybe I should get off my ass, pull up my big boy pants, and go learn how to create something incredible.

He attempted to sit up, but got halfway before falling back to the mattress.
Who am I kidding?
Aaron stared at his hands. They weren’t the hands of a craftsman, or a doctor, or, unfortunately, a soldier. They were the hands of a man who had watched four men in his company die without lifting a finger to stop it from happening.

A knock on the door startled him, making him jump.
“Aaron?”
Deacon?
Aaron pulled himself together and crawled out of bed. He wiped his nose on

the bottom of his T-shirt as he made his way to the front door. Pasting on a fake smile to hide his current mood, he opened the door. “Deacon, I was planning to call you later.” Instead of smiling in return, Deacon narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Mind if I come in?” Deacon didn’t wait for an invitation, but limped past Aaron into the living room. “I thought we were going to start on that table today.”
“Yeah, like I said, I was going to call you, I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.” Aaron gestured to the sofa. “Would you like to sit down?”
“No, I want to see the bed. Cameron told me they delivered it earlier. I figured you’d call. When I didn’t hear from you, I got worried.” Deacon headed towards the short hallway that led to the bedroom and the bathroom.
By the time Aaron made it into the room, Deacon was standing with his back to the door, staring into the open closet.
Shit!
Aaron raced over and shut the door. “Don’t pay any attention to that.”
Deacon moved Aaron away from the closet before opening the door again. “Is this what you do here alone in the house all day?” He retrieved a handful of pictures from the stack and carried them to the bed. With a look of concern on his handsome face, he spread the images out and studied them one by one. “Why crayon?” He didn’t look away from the drawings when he asked the question.
“It’s what I’ve always used. We didn’t have money for paint or pastels when I was growing up, so I used what was affordable.”
“They’re quite extraordinary.” Deacon closely inspected one of the pictures in particular. “I’ve been here.” He shook his head. “You’ve perfectly captured the architecture in this section of Baghdad, but the beauty in them has changed.” He glanced over to meet Aaron’s gaze. “Is this the way you see it?”
Aaron nodded. The gun battle with Iraqi insurgents had forever changed the way he saw everything. He stepped forward and took the picture from Deacon before gathering the others. Clutching the drawings to his chest, he carried them back to their hiding place.
“I’m not judging,” Deacon said.
Aaron leaned his forehead against the now-closed closet door. “They’re my nightmares,” he admitted. “I don’t know why I draw them, but sometimes I can’t do anything else until I get them down on paper.”
“Like today? Is that why I didn’t hear from you?” Deacon rested his hand on Aaron’s shoulder.
Aaron hated the thought of showing weakness around Deacon. He’d made a fool of himself two nights earlier when he’d begged Deacon to kiss him. Turning his head, he stared out of the bedroom window. “I’d rather not talk about it,” he mumbled.
Deacon moved to sit on the bed. “Come here,” he beckoned, patting the mattress beside him.
Aaron sat beside Deacon. “The pictures help. Don’t ask me to explain why because I can’t.”
Deacon put his arm around Aaron and kissed the top of his head. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
Aaron’s eyes drifted closed as he leaned against Deacon. A yawn erupted from him without warning, giving further proof of his restless night.
“Tired?”
“I didn’t get much sleep. When I have to stay the night at the station, I sleep on the sofa.” He looked up at Deacon. “It’s incredibly uncomfortable, but better than waking the rest of the guys up all night with my dreams.”
“Do they know?” Deacon rubbed Aaron’s back as he spoke.
“Yeah, but they don’t say anything. They’re all pretty skittish when it comes to mentioning my time overseas.”
“Most people are if they haven’t been there. Of course there are the odd few who seem fascinated by soldiers once they return home, especially those who have suffered the most.”
Aaron thought of Deacon’s leg. How many people had asked him how he’d been injured? “Would you mind if we got started on that table later? I think I’d like to lay down for an hour or two.”
Deacon tilted Aaron’s chin up and kissed him. It was a nice kiss, soft, yet firm at the right moment. “I closed the shop for the afternoon. Mind if I stretch out beside ya?”
“What if…”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve had my share of nightmares over the years,” Deacon said, cutting Aaron off. “No pressure, but I’d like to hold you for a while.”
Aaron found he liked the idea of sleeping in Deacon’s strong arms. “Okay.” Instead of pulling the covers back, he went to the hall closet and retrieved another blanket. By the time he returned to the bedroom, Deacon had rid himself of his shoes and was standing beside the bed.
“Which side do you sleep on?”
Aaron pointed towards the side farthest from the door. “Usually there, but it doesn’t matter.”
Deacon walked around to the opposite side of the bed. “I sleep in the middle, so either side works for me.”
Aaron spread out the blanket before crawling under it. He met Deacon in the centre, not sure what to do next. He’d never spent the night with a lover, so the situation had never arisen.
Deacon stretched out on his back and pulled Aaron against him. “That comfortable enough?”
Using Deacon’s shoulder for a pillow was different, but the steady heartbeat under his hand, where it rested on Deacon’s chest, calmed Aaron almost immediately. “Yeah, it’s good.”
Deacon ran a hand down Aaron’s side. “Relax, I won’t bite.”
“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Aaron admitted. After his time in the Middle East, he’d doubted he’d ever again feel comfortable enough to let down his guard, but he found Deacon different than most.
Deacon cleared his throat. “Are you a virgin?”
“No. I’ve just never been in the position to sleep with someone before.” He lifted his head and looked at Deacon. “You don’t have to worry about my virtue. That was taken many times over.” Oh, shit. Why had he said that?
“I told you, you don’t have to explain anything to me. If it makes you feel better, I haven’t slept with another man for several years.”
Aaron found it hard to believe one of the eligible bachelors in Cattle Valley hadn’t already snatched Deacon up. “Have you dated anyone since you’ve been here?”
“Until you walked into the store the other day, I hadn’t even been tempted to ask anyone out. You’re not the only one working through shit.” Deacon lifted Aaron’s hand off his chest and brought it to his mouth. He placed a kiss on Aaron’s palm before resettling it in its original position.
“So why me?” Aaron needed to know. There was absolutely nothing special about him.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
Aaron ran his thumb back and forth over Deacon’s shirt-covered nipple. “I guess for me, it’s because you’ve been there. You have a good idea of the things I’ve seen, but you don’t ask about them.”
“Is that all?”
Aaron nestled his face against Deacon’s neck, loving the feel of Deacon’s arm as it wrapped around him. “I feel grounded when I’m next to you, safe in a way I haven’t experienced in a very long time.” He kissed Deacon’s jaw. “Your turn.”
It took a moment for Deacon to answer. “My life is…complicated. There are still people out there who count on me to be there when they need me. Unfortunately, I get so caught up in the bigger picture I forget to live my own life. When you walked into my store and I looked into those big eyes of yours, I wanted something of my own for the first time in years. Does that answer your question?”
Aaron hated to burst Deacon’s bubble, but he rarely saw people at the store. Still, if it made Deacon feel special to believe the town needed him, Aaron would support him in that belief. “You want me?”
Deacon grabbed Aaron under the arms and lifted him until they were facing each other. “I want every inch of you.”
Aaron’s ribs vibrated as the deep timbre of Deacon’s voice moved through him and settled in his cock.
Sex.
It was something he’d barely thought of since the sniper had opened fire on a group of soldiers Aaron had considered family.
“But I’m going to wait.” Deacon kissed Aaron chastely on the lips. “Because we’ve both got some healing to do and nothing’s ever solved with sex, only postponed.”
Aaron groaned. Healing was the last thing on his mind. “Give me just ten minutes of thinking about something other than my crappy life.”
Deacon brushed Aaron’s cheek with his finger. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up, and we’ll get started on that table.”
Staring into Deacon’s eyes, Aaron’s heart ached because he knew the truth. If he slept, there would be no table building and, more than likely, no handsome man in his bed when he woke up, because with sleep came the truth, and the truth would never set him free. “Why don’t you go on back to the shop, and I’ll give you a call later.”
Deacon studied Aaron for several moments. “One day, you’ll wake up and realise you slept through the night. And although everything won’t be perfect, it’ll be enough to get you through the day.”
“Is that what happened for you?”
“Yeah. My dreams are far from perfect, but they no longer hold me hostage.”
Aaron bit his bottom lip. “Maybe someday.” He took a deep breath. “You know what, I’m not really tired anymore. Let’s head over to the store and you can show me what you can do with those big hands of yours.”

Deacon double-checked Aaron’s measurement before marking the block of wood with a carpenter’s pencil. “Okay. You think you’re ready to operate the chop saw?”
“Have I told you how important my hands are to my job? Plus, I’m pretty attached to them, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“If you follow the safety rules I’ve taught you, there will be no errant limbs on the floor once you’re done. I promise.” He lowered his goggles over his eyes. Despite Aaron’s fear of power tools, it had been a nice afternoon.
Aaron lined the blade up with the mark Deacon had made on the wood. He wiped his brow with the back of his forearm. “Here goes nothing.”
Deacon watched as the blade began to spin and lower. Within seconds, Aaron released the trigger and presented the finished product. “How’d I do?” Aaron asked, pride in his voice.
The simple cut was more than the beginnings of a table, it was the first step in rebuilding Aaron’s life. The second step was Deacon coming clean about his probe into Aaron’s background, but he wasn’t ready to travel that road just yet. “It’s perfect. I knew you could do it.”
“And look.” Aaron held up his hands. “They’re still there. How great is that?” His laughter filled Deacon’s darkened soul with light.
“You have a nice laugh. You should do it more often.” Deacon’s beeper vibrated in his pocket as he reached for the next leg. “You think you can handle this one all on your own?” Aaron smiled. “Yeah. I think I can.”
“Good. I’m gonna go find a nice piece we can use for the top.” Deacon started to walk off, but Aaron stopped him with a hand to his arm.
“Thanks.”
“Hey, you made the cut all on your own.”
“Not for the lesson, although it’s been fun. I meant for dragging me out of the house.”
“I didn’t, you did that all on your own. I simply gave you an alternative.” Deacon gestured to the piece of wood. “If you want to measure the other three, I’ll be back in a few minutes to help you cut them.”
“We’ll see. I might get brave and do it all on my own.”
Deacon didn’t doubt Aaron could do a lot of things on his own if only he’d have more faith in himself. “Give me ten minutes. I think I have a top that’ll be perfect, but it’s in the back storage shed across the alley.”
“Sounds good.” Aaron turned his attention to the table leg as Deacon left the room.
Deacon made his way out the back door to the shed. The structure, made of cement block, housed many miscellaneous items but more importantly, it served as Deacon’s Bat Cave of sorts. He unlocked the heavy-duty padlock on the steel door and flipped on the overhead light.
Turning over an old tree stump in the back of the shed, Deacon reached into its hollow and removed the cell phone. To some, the extent to which he guarded the phone would seem overkill, but they would be wrong, dead wrong. The phone stored not only the number to the President’s direct line, but all his handlers and agents.
“Black’s Hardware,” a deep voice answered.
“I need a plumber,” Deacon told Midnight.
“We’ve got a problem.”
Deacon eased down onto the stump and set his cane aside. For the first time in years, Deacon resented the reminder of who he actually was and how much power he wielded. “What now?”
“Sully’s been arrested in Colombia.”
“Legitimately or do they know who he really is?” Sully was one of their best, a sniper who had a gift for blending into the background.
“They know,” Midnight informed him.
“Then go get him.” Deacon hated moments like this. “If you can’t rescue him, kill him.” It was protocol for situations in which an agent was captured, but it didn’t make it any easier.
“Figured you’d say that. There’s only one problem. I don’t trust anyone but myself to get him outta there, and if I go, there’ll be no one to screen the day to day bullshit. Well, except you.”
“I no longer do that, or have you forgotten?” Deacon had been ready to walk away from the agency after Bobby’s death. A special request from the President and limited duties were the only things keeping him at the agency at all.
“I haven’t forgotten. I’m asking you to do this as a personal favour to me. I can’t leave unless you do this.”
Deacon rubbed his forehead. In all the years he’d known and worked with Midnight, never once had the man asked for anything. “It’ll have to be done from here.” Explaining to Aaron why he was suddenly on the phone all the time would be tricky, but their budding relationship was too important to walk away from now. “How long do you expect to be gone?”
“Three weeks max.”
Although it was far too early to say so for sure, Deacon had a good feeling about his future with Aaron. After devoting his entire adult life to the service of his country and losing a man he loved in the process, Deacon was tired. “So you know, you get Sully back in one piece before he spills any information, and I’ll inform the President that I’ve chosen you as my replacement.”
“You think I’m ready for that?”
“Hell, you do the work, might as well get the title and pay increase that goes along with it.” Deacon leaned on his cane and got to his feet. “Give me the rest of the day to settle a few things here.”
“Will do. I need to make some arrangements anyway.”
“Good luck. I know how much Sully means to you.” Deacon ended the call and pocketed the phone. Before leaving the shed, he found the small slab of mahogany he’d had left over from the headboard. “Perfect.”
Deacon balanced the wood on his shoulder and left the shed. He had twelve hours to figure out what to tell Aaron, and he’d need every second of it.