“Did you see Dilara’s memo on Friday night?” Lia wondered, tipping her head, towards Cav. “Tal Culver, their oldest daughter, is going to become CEO of Artemis.”
“Yes, and I think it’s a good call. She’s turning in her military commission shortly, which they’ve been planning for quite a while.”
“When Dilara came in on Friday, we had lunch together in my office,” she began.
“Yes. I saw your door was closed so I figured you two were having some kind of summit meeting, he teased.
Lia snorted. “Actually, she told me that Tal was getting ready to leave the Marine Corps after being injured in that sniper op that went south on her.”
“Yes, and it was a good thing Wyatt Lockwood was there to save her life when it happened. I think getting our CEO installed will be a major step so we can move ahead. Tal’s got the right stuff to pull it all together. She’ll be good for Artemis.”
“Yes, Dilara’s over the moon about Tal coming home. She and Robert worried a lot about her when she got injured. They flew into Bagram and as soon as Tal could, they flew her back on an Air Force jet to here. I wanted to go over to introduce myself to Tal, but Dilara asked to give her a few days to acclimate and I will. Matt and Alexa are still over in Afghanistan. They want their kids out of that hot mess, and I don’t blame them.”
Grimly, Cav agreed. “And it’s going to the dogs now that the drawdown is complete and only a few thousand troops are left behind. I knew it would turn out like this.”
“Me, too,” she sighed. Lia looked out at the scenery, her hair picking up the breeze as he drove down the quaint country road. “This is a beautiful area, Cav. Is the secret nearby?” she asked, changing the subject. No more work talk for now, she vowed!
Lia’s gray eyes were clear and sparkling. She was now getting a good eight hours sleep a night, and the tense expression she had worn when they were in Costa Rica had disappeared. All thanks to Cav’s influence on her.
Cav hinted, “We’re getting close. I’m just glad you wore jeans and boots.”
“Well, you strongly suggested I should,” she teased. “You’re dressed the same way, only your polo shirt is dark blue.” Lia loved looking at his lean, hard body. The dark blue baseball cap on his head gave him that black ops look. He was dangerous to her in every way, but in a good sense. And the yearning in his eyes was stronger than ever.
She felt herself moving closer and closer to having that talk with him. Dilara’s decision to confide her own story had made an enormous impact on Lia, and she had thought about it often, mulling everything over and feeling her way toward the next step she knew awaited her.
Cav’s excitement grew as they approached his surprise for her. He slowed the Jeep down as they approached several large pastures. Inside the fencing was every imaginable kind and color of horse. Lia instantly sat forward, straining to see these beloved animals come into view. There was no mistaking it—he saw the longing in her eyes, and knew he’d made the right call.
“Is this where we’re going, Cav? Is it?” she asked eagerly.
He heard the excitement in her voice. “Yeah.” He slowed the Jeep. “I found this place on the Internet,” he told her, making a turn and heading toward a two-story white farmhouse with a big red barn behind it.
“Do you notice anything about these horses?” he asked as they slowly passed the first large corral.
“Oh!” she started. “Oh, my God, Cav! They look like mustangs!” She gave him a look of disbelief. “Are they?”
He grinned. “Yep. This is a mustang and burro rescue farm. The people who own it are Deb and Jack Fagone. They work with the BLM, Bureau of Land Management, and they rescue wild mustangs and burros from the West and bring them back here. They offer these horses a place to live and have a decent life. They’re a charity of a different sort, but like Delos, they do good work. In their case, it’s with four-leggeds that need help.”
He gestured toward a group of buckskin horses with black manes, tails and lower legs standing together, their noses nearly touching one another. “They gently break and train these horses and then put them up for sale.”
Gasping, her eyes huge, Lia whispered, “That’s so wonderful! Goldy was part mustang. Did I ever tell you that?”
“Yes, you did mention that,” he said, parking in the gravel yard in front of the white farmhouse with dark green shutters. He grinned over at her as he turned off the Jeep’s engine.
She looked around the neat, clean farm and saw a black dog sitting up on the porch watching them, slapping its bushy tail against the wood. She turned toward him. “Why are we here?”