Lost Too Much

LOST TOO MUCH Chapter 24

She knew that they were keeping something big from her. She'd seen it in Mick's eyes a long time ago and she saw it in his eyes when she'd lost Greg and Carrie. Fear knotted inside her stomach as she laid awake in a strange bed. Callen laid asleep beside her, his breathing was steady and it had deepened, she knew it was safe for her to climb out of the bed. Since she and Max had moved in with him and Michael, Callen had slept the whole night through. It had surprised him at first, as it wasn't something that he was accustomed to. But after five months, he'd revelled in the good nights sleep. Now it was her turn to lay awake, where sleep refused to take her under into the unconscious bliss.

She quietly padded her way down the hallway and found her way out to the front verandah. She sat quietly swinging on the seat and looked out over the garden, the moon eliminating a soft hue over the trees and plants. She found peace on that swing. She wasn't sure why it soothed her so much, but all throughout the day, she found sitting on that swing seat provided the peace she sought. Being left in the dark over a case was never her strong suit. It was her best friend and his wife whose lives were in danger, as she tried to direct her attention to their children for distraction. Callen had done a great job with the children and with her, before he headed off for the mission. However, what went on after that remained a mystery. She should be thankful that Mick and Mel were safe and had returned home with Ella and Thomas. And she was, but she needed to know what really went down. Why were they taken and by whom. Mick's answer to her question which she had directed to Callen had taken her by surprise. It also proved to her that he was protecting her. But from what?

When Callen awoke at six the next morning, he was surprised to find the bed beside him empty. He felt the sheets and frowned at how cold they felt. They should be warm from Bronte's body. He climbed out of the bed and he went in search for her.

After scouring the house, he found her asleep on the front verandah. With a cardigan pulled up over her slim body, she was fast asleep. She looked peaceful, just how he liked to see her when she didn't worry about things. He also loved to see her laugh. He'd managed the day before to get her to laugh from his silly antics with the kids, which he was thankful for and he hoped that it provided the much needed distraction from reality. He left her be and entered the house to prepare the coffee machine and breakfast. Max and Michael would wake up soon and they would be hungry. Especially after all the running around that they had done the day before.

It was good for them to just play, he acknowledged. No toys were required, although a ball was always handy to have around to throw, kick and bounce. Yesterday had been a turning point for all of them, he realised. Bronte had been forced to finally tell him the last of her secrets and he saw now when he looked at her, the peace it had given her. He knew there had been something that she had kept from him over the past six months, but he hadn't been able to put a finger on it. And he'd finally let go around the kids. He relaxed and enjoyed the pleasure of fatherhood and he loved every moment of it. He hadn't felt eyes watching him, assessing on how he was doing bonding with his son, or with Max. Although both boys were easy to get to know and were well behaved, he'd held back. He wasn't sure on why yesterday was any different, but maybe it was this house, as Hetty had mentioned to him the night before.

"Good morning, sleepy heads." He signed to Max as he greeted his son at the same time. He threw a pancake over his head from the pan and cheered when it landed on a plate. He poured more pancake mix into the pan and delivered another pancake over to Max, one he'd made already. He was greeted with smiles from both boys who poured maple syrup and blueberries on their pancakes. The boys tucked into their breakfast and drank the milk he'd poured out for them. He felt hands wrap around him from behind and knew that Bronte had woken.

"Morning, beautiful." He turned and caught her up into a dance as he moved around the kitchen to place the next pancake onto a plate. He leaned down and caught her lips in a morning kiss.