Two weeks.
It seemed like an eternity, but good things come to those who wait, and Grover was willing to wait as long as it took for Sierra to see him as someone she might want to spend the rest of her life with.
Chapter Nine
Grover stood on the porch at the large reception building at The Refuge. He’d arrived two hours earlier and had spoken at length with Brick and Tonka, two of the seven men who owned and operated the mental health retreat. It was a place literally anyone who needed a break from life could go, be accepted, and hopefully relax. Men and women who were or had been in all branches of the armed forces visited frequently. But there were also police officers, firefighters, nurses, doctors, teachers, and other people with high-stress jobs who sought solace at The Refuge.
Sierra was supposed to arrive with her parents any moment now. Mr. and Mrs. Clarkson had volunteered to drive their daughter down from Colorado. Grover was looking forward to meeting them, but was anxious to see Sierra even more.
They’d spoken on the phone every night over the last two weeks. Long conversations about everything from politics to the pros and cons of wearing socks to bed. Sometimes they were serious, discussing terrorism and hate groups, and other times spent the entire call teasing each other.
Grover had learned Sierra had become somewhat of a celebrity in her hometown, and that she hated it. All she wanted to do was blend in and get back to a regular life. He wanted to tell her that the likelihood of that happening was low, especially in a town of less than three thousand, but he hadn’t wanted to stress her out more than she already was.
A minivan appeared over the rise, and Grover straightened. It was almost scary how excited he was to see her. He heard someone come out of the building behind him, but didn’t turn to see who it was.
After the minivan had parked, Grover drank in the sight of Sierra as she stepped out of the backseat. He couldn’t take his eyes from her. He knew he should walk out to greet everyone, but he felt frozen in place.
She looked good. Really good. The two weeks at home had done wonders for her outward appearance. Her hair was short, almost buzzed, but was now cut evenly, for which he already knew she was grateful. She wore jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, but even though she was completely covered, Grover could tell she’d put on a bit of weight. She hadn’t been lying about her parents trying to fatten her up. Her cheeks were fuller, and she didn’t have the hollow look she’d had back in Afghanistan.
“Welcome to The Refuge!” Tiny said as he walked down the steps of the porch to greet their new guest. The man was only six feet tall, but he was hugely muscular. Grover could only assume that’s why he’d been given his nickname.
Grover forced himself to move slowly down the stairs. Suddenly, he was nervous. Even though he’d spoken with Sierra every day, seeing her in person was so different. He followed behind Tiny, approaching the older couple who had driven their daughter to New Mexico.
“It’s very good to meet you. I’m Fred. Fred Groves. But everyone calls me Grover.” He held out his hand, and Mr. Clarkson shook it enthusiastically.
“We’ve heard so much about you. I’m Ben. And this is Jody. It’s so good to meet you!”
Grover shook Sierra’s mother’s hand, then tuned out Tiny as he welcomed them as well.
He turned to Sierra. She was standing a little off to the side, looking unsure.
And for the first time, Grover second-guessed being here. Maybe seeing him brought back too many bad memories about what she’d been through. He towered over her, and he hated that his size might cause her even a second of fear.
Stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets, Grover said, “Hey,” in a quiet, tentative voice.
Sierra wasn’t sure what to say to Grover, which was stupid, because they’d talked for hours and hours on the phone. She hadn’t felt tongue-tied with him at all. But suddenly, seeing him in person made her very nervous. Had he noticed that she’d gained some weight? Was he laughing inside that she was wearing jeans and a long-sleeve shirt when it wasn’t cold in the least? What did he think of her hair? It was still obnoxiously short, but she was so much happier with it, now that it didn’t look like it had been hacked off by a toddler with a pair of dull scissors.
She watched as he greeted her parents politely, and her brows came down when she realized how stiff he seemed. This wasn’t the Grover she’d gotten to know in Afghanistan. There, he was confident, even after each brutal beating from Shahzada. But at the moment, his shoulders were hunched forward slightly and his hands were buried in his pockets.
When his gaze met hers, she bit her lip in consternation. There was so much emotion in his eyes, but she couldn’t for the life of her read what he was feeling. Was he regretting coming here?
“Hey,” he said in a tone she’d never heard from him before.
Then it hit Sierra.
He was nervous too. Unsure of himself.
It was…endearing.
Without thinking twice, she did what she’d been wanting to do since she saw him through the window of her parents’ minivan. Sierra stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. She lay her cheek on his chest and squeezed him hard.
When he returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around her and holding her to him tightly, she sighed in contentment and closed her eyes. This is what she needed. The feeling of being safe. Protected.
It was stupid, it wasn’t as if there were bands of Taliban sympathizers roaming the United States looking for her for revenge, but she couldn’t quite shake the feeling of being a captive. It was taking longer than she would’ve liked to realize that she no longer had to do what others told her to. That she could come and go as she pleased. Eat what she wanted. Sleep when she wanted. Use the bathroom anytime she needed to without worrying about who might be watching.
“Hi,” she said softly without lifting her head.
His arms tightened for a moment, but he didn’t speak.
How long they stood like that, Sierra wasn’t sure, but when she finally lifted her head, she noticed that her parents and the man from The Refuge were no longer standing nearby. She hadn’t even noticed them leaving.
Grover lifted a hand toward her head, then stopped himself. “May I?” he asked.
“Touch me? Yes.”
She felt like purring when his large hand rested on top of her head. She shivered as he ran his palm over the fuzz on her scalp.
“It’s so soft,” he said, sounding surprised.
Sierra chuckled. “Yeah. I’m considering leaving it short. Not as short as this, but maybe having it styled into a cute pixie cut or something when it gets long enough. I’m not sure I’ll ever be comfortable with long hair again. If it gets dirty, I’m afraid it’ll just remind me of…well, you know.”
“Short hair suits you,” he said, finally meeting her eyes. He moved his hand to the back of her neck. He was just resting his palm there, and it made Sierra feel completely surrounded by this man. She liked it.
“Thanks.”
“How are you doin’?” he asked.
“I’m good. You? Did you sleep last night?” She knew he was still having trouble sleeping through the night. He admitted to her that he still woke up just about every time from nightmares.