CHAPTER FIVE

Preston leaned back on the sofa and held the ice pack on his eye, hoping the cold would lesson the inevitable bruising he would have from the punch he’d taken this afternoon trying to break up a brawl between two rival biker gangs in the parking lot of a convenience store.

It’d been a miracle that none of the fifteen or so bikers were packing, but the bastards were good with their fists, and Preston and his fellow officers had taken a few blows in the process of breaking up the fight and arresting the perps.

He’d taken a couple of mild painkillers for his aching eye and his sore ribs, and was seriously considering a whiskey chaser whenever he could get up the energy to go pour himself one.

He shifted on the sofa and groaned. It’d been three days since Christmas, and he’d worked every one of them, covering shifts for officers who wanted a little more time with their families.

He admitted to himself that his motivation wasn’t entirely altruistic. If Sabina was home next Christmas, he might be calling in this year’s favors for more time with her. He wondered where he and Sabina would be as a couple by this time next year.

He still hadn’t settled on where or when, but he was definitely proposing as soon as she got home. They probably wouldn’t marry right away. Her brother’s trial was coming up in January and there would be the inevitable appeals. And for the sake of the government’s case they would have to keep their relationship on the DL for a bit longer. But not too much longer, he hoped. He’d like to be married to her by this time next year. Then, maybe, they could have a Merry Christmas for real.

Although this one hadn’t been nearly as bad as he’d expected it to be. He’d been lonely, but not nearly as lonely as he would’ve been if Eagle, Lacey, and Paco hadn’t taken pity on him. It’d been nice of them, and to his surprise he’d thoroughly enjoyed hanging out with them.

He credited Sabina for having them come to his rescue.

He held the bag to his black eye until it started to warm up. Time to refresh the ice and maybe pour that promised chaser. He swung his legs off the sofa and was headed for the kitchen when his doorbell rang. Hope flared as he turned and hot-footed it toward the door. Maybe Sabina’s mission was over and she was home. He sure hoped so.

He peered through the peep hole, then pulled open the door and hoped his astonishment didn’t show. Colonel Bustamante stood there with a gorgeous woman who must be his lady-love, Felicia Castillo.

They looked at him solemnly and he took a sharp breath as a horrible thought crossed his mind. “Is Sabina all right? She didn’t get hurt, did she?”

“No, no,” the colonel quickly assured him. “Last I heard, all was well on her mission.”

Preston sagged with relief. “Thank you for that. You both looked pretty serious.”

“We’re looking serious because of you,” Felicia said. “I’m Felicia, by the way. You look like you got the hell beat out of you today.”

“Kind of did. Made the mistake of getting between two angry bikers fighting over a parking space.” He backed up and motioned for them to come in. “I was headed to the kitchen for more ice and a whiskey chaser. Can I get you anything?”

“We’re fine.” Colonel Bustamante and Felicia stepped in and the colonel shut the door. “Actually, we came to invite you to come with us to a brigade party tonight. We’re getting together for our annual holiday party at Colonel Johnson’s, and we like to include the brigade’s significant others at her get-together. Your cell number’s not public, but we were able to find your address online, so Felicia and I decided to come by and invite you in person.”

More of Sabina’s doing. It had to be.

Apparently, she’d gone all the way to the top and involved the colonel in her efforts to make sure he wasn’t alone during the holiday season.

But it did surprise him that Colonel Bustamante cared enough about her request to do what she asked.

“Wow. That’s really nice of you. Not sure I’d be much in the way of company, though, as sore as I am.”

Felicia crossed her arms in front of her and looked him up and down. “You’re beat up, all right, but the brigade’s used to that. They do beat up all the time. They even do the occasional bullet hole.”

“Look at it this way. You can either stay here, drink your own whiskey and hurt by yourself, or you can come with us, eat Colonel Johnson’s Kwanzaa meal, and drink somebody else’s booze and hurt with all of us,” Colonel Bustamante added. “We’ll even chauffeur so you don’t have to drink and drive.”

Preston wasn’t sure he was up for a party. But Colonel Bustamante was Sabina’s commanding officer and the head of the Special-Ops unit she worked for. Preston wasn’t about to do anything to insult the man or his lady-love, especially since they’d gone out of their way to invite him. But he still couldn’t wrap his head around why they’d go out of their way, as little as any of them liked him.

They must really hold Sabina in high regard. Or she threatened them.

He looked down at his sweats and over at the nicely dressed couple. “Give me five minutes to get into my party duds and I’ll be delighted to join you.”

He switched out his sweats for a new pair of black jeans and a collared knit shirt. The sun was beginning to set as he followed them to a brand-spanking new Chevy Silverado. “Nice truck,” Preston said approvingly. “Brand new?”

“Merry Christmas to me,” the colonel said sheepishly. “My son’s pickup gave up the ghost a couple of weeks ago, so I passed along the one I was driving and brought this baby home last week. Felicia tried to introduce me to the pleasures of a sports car, but I’m still too much of a country boy to drive anything but a truck.”

“And when he says truck, he means a truck,” Felicia said dryly.

They made small talk on the way to the party and learned the colonel was from the Valley and Felicia was local, and that the colonel’s son and his partner were in town for the holidays.

They made their way through the evening traffic to the base and the colonel turned off into the historic section of base housing and pulled up in front of a gorgeous old Victorian. “Beautiful,” Preston said admiring the structure. “Even more vintage than mine.”

“Yours is not to be sneezed at,” Felicia said. “Does it date back to the twenties?”

“Maybe nineteen-thirty or so,” Preston said. “What’s your favorite housing era?”

“Midcentury modern,” the colonel and Felicia said in unison.

They trooped up the sidewalk and a good-looking young man who vaguely resembled Colonel Johnson met them at the door. “Howdy. I’m Lemar Johnson and I’ve been put on front door duty.

“Colonel Bustamante, good to see you. And the beautiful Felicia. Come in, come in.” He shook hands with the colonel and kissed Felicia’s cheek before turning to Preston. “Let me guess. You’re either a friend of Tucker’s or Sabina’s sweetie.”

“Preston Ramos. Sabina’s sweetie.”

“Lemar Johnson. Glad to meet you. Mom’s mentioned you a time or two.”

Preston stifled a snicker. He bet Colonel Johnson hadn’t told her son about pulling a gun on him during the mission to Colombia. He glanced over at Colonel Bustamante and the colonel was also fighting to keep a straight face.

Lemar led them into the living room. “Say hello and make yourselves a plate of food. Mom does a traditional Kwanzaa meal and says that tonight everybody’s from Africa.”

“My Granny Washington says the same thing,” Jazz Washington said from the wheelchair he was parked in. “In some cases, it’s strictly honorary.” He squeezed the hand of a pretty blonde standing beside him.

“And for some of us it’s very real,” Felicia said. She gave Jazz a kiss on the cheek. “How’s it going, cousin mine?”

“Like you didn’t see me three days ago,” Jazz teased. He looked over at Preston. “Jesus, what happened to you? Piss off Sabina?”

“Got between two bikers and lived to regret it. How are you doing, Jazz? For real.”

“For real? It sucks, but I’m healing. Carrie, this is Preston Ramos. You and Preston have the honor of being the only two civilians who’ve ever traveled with this daring, wonderful, esteemed group of warriors. Preston, my girl Carrie. Gotta admit, she was a lot more fun to go on a mission with than you were.”

“Sabina might take exception to that,” Carrie said. “Glad to meet you.”

“She might,” Preston agreed. He looked again at the smiling, affable soldier in the wheelchair.

Hard to believe this friendly man was the pissed off son of a bitch who’d decked him in Colombia.

He made the rounds with the colonel and Felicia, who introduced him to a few members of the brigade he’d not met. Paco and Eagle both greeted him with warmth, although Eagle was looking a little hang-dog, and Lacey was nowhere to be seen. Colonel Johnson was resplendent in a red and blue karabela dress, she told him was from Haiti. She’d greeted him warmly and exclaimed over his black eye. “Our drink of choice tonight should help with that.” She handed him a stinger. “Traditional drink always served at a Kwanzaa party. Doesn’t do a thing for the bruise, but you no longer give a damn.”

Preston sipped and nodded his head. “Delicious. But it may take a couple of doses for me to feel better.”

Colonel Johnson laughed and invited them to make a plate. “It’s my interpretation of a Kwanzaa menu,” she said, gesturing to the spread on the table consisting of collard greens, black-eyed peas, cornbread, jerk chicken, sweet potato pie, and gumbo.

“Looks like good old-fashioned southern cooking to me,” Colonel Bustamante teased.

“Bear, you know better. Every one of these dishes has an African origin,” Felicia pointed out.

Preston took another look at the delicious-looking spread. “That I didn’t know,” he said. “Sure looks good.”

It was. The food and the company were great, and they were all as nice as they could be. Which he still didn’t understand. They had more than done their duty. They didn’t have to invite him tonight. But they had, and they’d made him welcome.

Quite a change from the chilly attitude from before Christmas.

He probably should take it for what it was and let it go. But as the evening wore on, his curiosity grew. They had done more than what Sabina had likely asked them to do. So why? Why were they being so kind to him? He didn’t deserve it. His prejudice against the Romani had delayed a mission that’d caused three unnecessary deaths, and his brother was an international criminal. Sabina had forgiven him because she loved him. But these people didn’t love him. They didn’t even like him.

The why of it was sticking in his throat,

He finally got his chance to ask. The majority of folks had settled on chairs and the sofa, and were involved in a serious bullshitting session over the merits of the local microbrews. The two colonels were off to one side talking about their sons’ post-college plans, and Jazz was wolfing down a second or maybe third piece of sweet potato pie Carrie had sliced for him.

Preston walked over to the colonels and waited until he’d caught their eye. “Got a question for you,” he said.

“Shoot,” Colonel Bustamante replied.

Preston took a beat to get up his courage. “Why are y’all being so nice to me? Why have you all gone out of your way to be so kind?” The colonels looked at one another but didn’t say anything. “I mean, none of you like me. You think I’m an asshole.”

“You are an asshole,” Jazz said cheerfully.

“Jazz, that’s terrible,” Carrie said, horrified.

“Terrible but honest,” Jazz said. “This pie sure is good.”

“Glad you like it,” Colonel Johnson murmured, trying and failing to hide a snicker.

“That’s what I mean,” Preston said. “You think I’m an asshole and for good reason. Yet the brigade has reached out, and don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful. But I don’t understand.”

Jazz pulled his wheelchair a little closer. “It’s like this. Sabina loves you, which makes you her asshole. We love Sabina, and you’re her asshole, so that makes you our asshole. Besides, you think you’re the only asshole here? Take a look around. We’ve got a room full of ’em.”

The colonels looked at one another and laughed. Carrie rolled her eyes. “I swear, Jazz, I can’t take you anywhere. Eat your pie.”

He was their asshole? O-kay.

Colonel Johnson’s face sobered and she put her hand on Preston’s arm. “Jazz isn’t wrong, but that’s not all of it. Not by a long shot. They didn’t know.”

“Know what?”

“They didn’t know how much your honesty cost you. What kind of price you paid for going in that courtroom and testifying against your brother,” Colonel Johnson explained. “The testimony the prosecutor said nailed down a much-needed conviction.”

“Oh. They didn’t know about my asshole family.” He turned to Jazz. “Now, if you want to meet a bunch of real assholes, I’ll take you to the next Ramos family reunion.”

“Thanks. I’ll pass.” Jazz made a face.

“It’s like this.” Colonel Bustamante picked up the thread. “Doing what we do for a living, yeah, it’s a job, but it’s also about serving our country and putting our nation first. We all raised our hand and vowed to do that when we joined the Army, and it’s damned important to every one of us. I like to think we’ve done that, and to some extent we’ve all paid a price for doing so. Some a higher price than others.” He gestured toward Jazz’s bandaged legs.

“Some have paid the ultimate price,” Preston said quietly. “Like Paco’s husband.”

“They have,” Colonel Johnson said. “And you, you’ve done the same thing we have. You put your country’s welfare above the demands of your family, and you lost them for it. You paid a damned high price for being a loyal American. Not a person in this room, not a person in the entire brigade has had to pay that particular price. You made an enormous sacrifice. And you overcame a lifetime of prejudice to love Sabina, which is damned awesome. That makes you one of us.”

The room had gotten quiet. Then Jazz raised his hands and started clapping, and was joined by everyone in the room as they all rose in tribute. Preston felt tears gather as he looked around at Sabina’s friends. His friends now, too. He had friends again.

He had a feeling they’d be the best friends he would ever have in his life. And he had Sabina to thank for them.

“Th-thanks,” he stammered, not sure what else to say.

He was saved from having to say anything more when the doorbell rang and a tired-looking Sabina came in, trailed by two equally tired-looking young soldiers holding hands.

“Holy shit. You’re home,” he barely got out as he jumped over an end table and met her at the door. She threw her arms around his neck and he picked her up and swung her in a circle. “I missed you so much.” He bent his head and laid a long, sweet kiss on her lips.

“I missed you too,” she said when he finally came up for air. “Colonel Bustamante texted us and told us to come. He said you were here.”

He turned to the colonel. “Thanks.”

Colonel Bustamante smiled and nodded.

Preston turned and caught Paco’s eye. “You think I ought to switch to Plan A?” he asked.

“You have the ring and the key?” Paco asked.

Preston’s face fell. “I don’t. They’re at home.”

“Aw hell, Ramos, fake it,” Paco laughed. “Give ‘em to her later. By all means, go to Plan A.”

Preston knelt in front of Sabina and the room got quiet again. “Sabina. I love you. I can be a real idiot, and I’m not worthy of you, but if you’ll have me, I’d love for us to spend the rest of our lives together. Will you marry me?”

Sabina’s eyes widened and her mouth made an “O.” “You want to marry me?” she squeaked. “A house, kids, the whole bit?”

“I do. A house filled with warrior daughters just like you. We can even throw in a dog. How about it?”

Sabina’s initial surprise transformed into the biggest smile he’d ever seen from her. Her eyes glistened, and she smiled before she said, “You better believe I’ll marry you.”

Preston stood up and whooped. “Did you hear that? She said yes. Sabina said yes.”

The room erupted into claps and cheers, but he barely heard them. His attention was focused on the magnificent woman standing in front of him. He bent his head and took her lips and kissed her with all the love he held in his heart. He was so eager to see where the next months and years would take them, and was happy he’d done this surrounded by their friends in Bear’s Brigade. They could have done this alone. But it was so much better with their friends by their side.

***

Sabina lay curled up next to Preston, her head on his shoulder and her fingers in his chest hair. They’d made love for most of the night, pouring out their emotions while making plans for the future. She held up her hand and looked at her ring.

“You like it?” Preston asked, kissing her temple.

“I love it. It’s different.”

“That was the point. It doesn’t scream we’re engaged.”

“And I can wear it while I’m breaking into houses on the missions.” She snickered. “I love the key, too. My lease is up in a couple of weeks. Maybe we can move my stuff next weekend.”

“That would be awesome. I can hardly wait to wake up beside you every morning.”

“That’ll be perfect. Maybe Mom and Dad will want to stay here when they come.”

“Oh, shit. Should I have talked to your father before I proposed?”

“Nah. I’ve been grown and gone a long time. We will call them tomorrow, though.”

“That works. Thanks, by the way.”

“Thanks for what?”

“Thanks for taking care of me over Christmas.”

Sabina looked at him, puzzled. “How did I do that? I was gone, remember?”

“I mean beforehand. When you asked the brigade to befriend me over the holidays.”

Huh?” Sabina sat up and looked down at Preston. “I didn’t ask anybody to do anything.”

“You had to.” Preston ran his hand down the side of her face. “They knew what happened with my family. You must’ve asked them to look after me. Take me out for a meal, invite me to the party.”

“Preston, I did no such thing. I did tell them what your family had done to you. But that was all. I don’t know anything about them taking you out. I didn’t even know they had, and I didn’t know anything about your being at the party until the colonel’s text.” She looked at him. “What did they do?”

“Eagle and Lacey came by to take me out to dinner, but we went shopping instead and Lacey helped me pretty up the house. We got nice pots and pans, and throw pillows. A coffee table, and the nightstands you didn’t notice since we’d been,” he grinned, “busy. We got stuff I hoped you’ll like.”

“I’m sure I will. Lacey has great taste.”

“And then Paco came and got me on Christmas Day. Only it was the first night of Hannukah too and we had the most amazing Middle Eastern kosher Hannukah food, and kosher tamales. Then tonight, Colonel Bustamante and Felicia picked me up for the party. I was sure you’d asked them all to be nice to me.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t. I said you were going to be alone and I was worried about you. But I swear, that’s it. Lacey and Eagle, and Paco, they came up with taking care of you on their own. I sure as hell appreciate it, but I didn’t instigate anything. Same with tonight. The invitation to the party came from the colonels without any input from me.”

Preston stared at her, and remembered what they’d said to him at the party. “I’ll be damned. I thought you were behind all of it.”

“No. What they did, they did it on their own. They did it because they were thinking of you, Preston. Not as a favor to me.”

“Huh. They reached out to me on their own.” Preston marveled. “I’m kinda shocked.”

“I’m not,” she said. “Not really.” She cocked her head and looked down at him. “The brigade is all about acceptance. That’s why they were so mad at you in the beginning, because you wouldn’t accept me and mine.

“But you changed, and then you sacrificed the love for your family to do the right thing. You accepted me and you accepted the values they…we hold so dear. Why wouldn’t they accept you?”

Preston pulled her down, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with everything in him.

She loved him, and in loving him gave him a world he hadn’t experienced, but would forever embrace with his arms opened wide.

THIS STORY IS PART OF THE BEAR’S brIGADE SERIES

A HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

JOAN BIR D