Page 9 of Unexpected Christmas with the SEAL

Triss sent an emoji of a pregnant woman.Using my bladder as a trampoline.

They texted back innocuous messages for another fifteen minutes, then Triss said she had to go do something and signed off.

Bruno had found his bed in front of the wood-stove and was curled up snoring.

She was exhausted from working non-stop since waking up early, and could have easily fallen onto the couch and passed out, but she knew that wouldn’t do her any good.

She needed to keep busy. There was still plenty to do around the ranch. There always was.

If she kept busy, then she didn’t have time to let her loneliness fester. Besides, how lonely could someone really be on a ranch with over a hundred animals on it?

The answer was: pretty freaking lonely.

Thetearsthatshetried to hide gutted him.

The woman was so fucking stubborn. So fucking strong.

Shecould entirely handlethat ranch on her own. Cal knew it. Hell, he was pretty sure Asher and Nate knew it, too. But she didn’thaveto do it all on her own. That was the difference.

If there was anything being in the Navy and working with his SEAL team had taught him, it was that you shouldn’t be afraid to ask for help. Doing it on your own when you don’t have to is prideful and can get people killed. If you have people in your corner, if you have a team, ask for help.

But something told him Hannah didn’t really have much of ateam.

He knew she had brothers, but Cal didn’t know much about them. He also knew that her parents were divorced, and lived on opposite sides of the country. Again, that was the gist of his knowledge. He didn’t ask for more from Nate when he was talking about his niece, and Nate didn’t volunteer more.

Perhaps Cal should have asked, though.

Or asked Triss for more information.

He could see that his presence there was only upsetting her more, so he jumped in his truck and left. But that didn’t mean he was going to stay away for very long.

Hannah was hurting, and if there was anything Cal was, it was a fixer.

Cars, fences, helicopters, broken mugs and even people—he fixed them.

Or at least he tried to.

So, he drove home, gathered what he needed out of his fridge and pantry. He didn’t bother with a cooler since it was cold as balls outside and nothing would thaw in the twenty minutes it rode in the bed of his truck. Then, as it grew dark outside, he headed back to the Harris Brothers Ranch.

The motion-sensor light came on when he pulled back into the driveway and a bark from the barn announced his presence.

But no dog or person came out.

He left the stuff in the truck and glanced toward the farmhouse. Smoke rose from the chimney and there were a few lights on inside, but he knew she wasn’t in there. If Bruno was in the barn, so was Hannah.

A quick check at the chicken coop showed it closed up for the night. The goat barn was locked and all the horses had been brought in from the field.

She really could do it all.

He opened the side door for the barn and stepped inside, the scent of fresh hay wafting up his nostrils. Bruno raced over for a greeting. Cal gave him the necessary amount of attention before Bruno trotted off to go on another perimeter patrol.

A few horses made noises of salutation, but when one particular horse’s head didn’t swing out over the stall door, he knew exactly where to find Hannah.

“Go away, Cal,” Hannah called from Macklin’s stall.

He didn’t listen and proceeded down the barn until he reached Macklin’s stall. He peered over the half door, where he found Hannah sitting on the ground and Macklin sort of sitting in her lap as she petted him and he nuzzled her head with the side of his. “Are you stuck?” he asked with a snort.

She glared at him around Macklin’s big brown body. “Sort of. But I’m fine.”

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