~~ A prelude to
~~
Off
The Moon
The
book called Powerful, Raw, Compelling, Visceral,
Romantic,
Intelligent, Intriguing...
Nearly a decade
before Ryan and Kaitlyn
came
Daws and Deanna
in a clash and
blend of spirits.
There is no greater love...
"Die
when I may, I want it said by those who knew me best
that I
always plucked a thistle and planted a flower
where I thought a
flower would grow."
Abraham Lincoln
========================
Moondrops & Thistles. Copyright ©2011 by LK Hunsaker. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means without written permission from the publisher, except for brief quotes in reviews and scholarly works.
Smashwords Edition 2011
Ebooks are not shareable or transferable. If you would like to share this book with friends, buy separate copies or send them to http://www.Smashwords.com. Please Respect and Support this author’s work, time, years of training, and artistic vision! Established reviewers may request a free full version through Elucidate Publishing.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, and events are of the author’s original creation or are used fictitiously. Resemblances to real live (or dead) humans and to things that have happened or may happen are entirely coincidental, or have been changed to accommodate the story. Neither author nor publisher is liable for use of information within.
Also available in print from Elucidate Publishing, ISBN 978-0-9825299-6-6
http://www.elucidate publishing.net
staff@elucidatepublishing.net
United States of America
Cover art: LK Hunsaker
===================
Moondrops & Thistles
A Novel
LK Hunsaker
Dedication
To the
Shepherds...
================
PART 1
"The good
shepherd lays down his life for the sheep."
John 10:11
=== January 1991 ===
A downpour either way he turned. Opting for the lesser storm, Daws walked away from the television and toward the one small window in the sparse room. Lightning flashed thin streaks in the distance. He was drawn to it the way he was drawn to artillery fire in the night. He always enjoyed night training, the way the howitzers shot their rounds high up into nothingness and left a trail of smoke, now and then with a burst of flame. He especially enjoyed the rare bursts of flame. After tonight, he wasn’t sure that enjoyment would last. The call would come. He could do nothing but wait for it.
Thoughts of home surfaced, but he couldn’t go. He had leave time saved. It wouldn’t matter. They were on stand-by. All leave was cancelled.
Not that he had any particular reason to be home. No one was there to worry if he was there or anywhere else, but it was still home. He’d found that thought increasingly important over his ten years of service. After seven years of moving at the whims of the Army, he’d put in for his current duty station as a condition of reenlistment. He was now at least close enough to get back to the city with an easy five and a half hour drive. Daws had a fleeting thought that he should have gone drill and requested Fort Dix. Would’ve been closer. Maybe he still would.
“The liberation of Kuwait has begun.”
At Fitzwater’s voice, Daws yanked his eyes back to the screen. Apache helicopters had struck Baghdad and Kuwait. A shiver crawled through his body into his soul. He was prepared, as well as a man could be prepared for the journey into something unknown. His mind was set for it to happen. Still, he wasn’t gung ho waiting and hoping, as a few he knew. Very few. Most were resolved, aware it was their job, what they’d signed up to do if ever necessary, what they’d trained to do. They would happily go on about their business if the call didn’t come, however.
It would.
He turned from the dull light of the room to the barely dark outside the window, to raindrops reflecting the building’s security light as they fell, to tree branches whipped by rushing wind. Thunder rumbled louder, announcing the storm’s advance. Appropriate.
A sharp ring startled him, even though he was waiting for it.
As he turned the television down and grabbed the receiver, he managed to pull his well-taught military bearing into his voice, as well as his stance. “Dawson.”
“Sergeant. I assume you’re watching the news.”
“Yes, Major.”
“I wanted to be the first to let you know, although your lieutenant will send out the formal announcement within the hour. We leave tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. He’d hoped for a couple of days. Still, they’d been warned. “My men will be ready.”
“I have no doubt.” The major’s voice was calm, light. As always. “At ease, Sergeant. I can feel you at attention even through the phone.”
“Yes, Sir.”
A light chuckle preceded a pause. “Fred, it’ll be good to have you at my back.”
He faltered at the use of his first name. Only for a second. “I will be proud to be there, Sir. And I intend for every one of my men to come home.”
“God willing.”
Daws tried not to hear the doubt in his major’s voice. “Sir?”
“Yes?”
“Your family knows?”
“Yes. Just now. They’ll be fine. Marianne is a strong woman. If not for the boys, she’d likely re-up and go with. Will is here to help. I only hope he doesn’t go off and get married while I’m away.”
Images of things to come flashed on the silent television screen as Daws made himself listen enough to hear without allowing it to sink in too far. “I have no doubt he’ll wait for your return.”
“I imagine so, even if it has to be during leave. I do hope for a short deployment as they predict, for all of us. Now go out and enjoy your last night of freedom for some time to come.”
“Have to call my men.”
“Yes. After your lieutenant calls, and don’t let on you already know. No point him getting his nose out of joint because I broke protocol.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Sir.”
“You’re a good man, Sergeant. Never thought I’d see war again before I retired, but since it’s in the cards, I’m more at ease knowing you and your men are on my team.” He waited only a moment when Daws didn’t answer. “Go out and enjoy yourself tonight. This storm should blow by fast with as fast as it came in.”
“God willing.” Daws knew Major Reynauld meant the lightning storm. He also knew the major would realize he didn’t.
Hanging up, he returned his attention to the silent television and some guy in a suit and tie trying to look appropriately concerned as he relayed whatever they decided the public should know. Daws walked over, clicked it off, and went to the window. The lightning was right on top of them now. He’d heard the crackle over the line when it struck. He hoped it wouldn’t turn into an ice storm, since the temperature was hovering barely high enough to keep it liquid.
Tomorrow. Most of his men had young wives or girlfriends, some with children. Daws was thankful he didn’t have a spouse and child to leave behind. He would be better able to assist his men without his attention distracted.
He did need to call Sonya, although he wasn’t convinced what they had was enough to label her a girlfriend. She had to know he was leaving. He would do that first. It would be easier than calling his men.
Waiting through several rings, Daws nearly hung up before he heard the breathless greeting. “Did I call at a bad time?” He lowered onto his couch.
“No worse than your usual timing. What’s up? I was on the treadmill.”
“Sorry.”
“Can I call you back?”
“Quick question and I’ll let you go. Have plans tonight?”
“Not really, only ... wait, it’s a weekday. You have to be up at o-dark-thirty, right? You want to go out tonight?”
“Maybe I’ll just drop by for a quick dinner. I’ll bring it. Sound okay? Won’t stay long.” He got up again, walked around behind the couch, and checked on the storm. It was lessening, the rumbles quieter, more distant.
“Well, how about I call delivery and let them run around in the rain to save you getting soaked?”
He considered changing his mind and asking her to go out, somewhere around others. Somewhere not too quiet. But he wasn’t sure how she’d react when he told her. “I’ll be wet anyway. No need to pull them out.”
“So this way you’ll be less wet, and I’ll tip them for it. Come on over. What time?”
Giving himself an hour, he was barely off the phone when it rang again. His lieutenant. Daws did his best to act unaware. Seemed to work.
Two of his men were out and he left messages for them to return the call as soon as possible. As he waited, he ran through the shower. Jumping back out again at another ring, he wrapped himself in a towel and went to break it to the next to last. Corporal Jenkins, with a six month old daughter he never stopped talking about. And he tried the last one again. No answer. He went to get dressed and tried once more just before he left. He’d call from Sonya’s place if needed. Luckily, the private picked up. He didn’t take it well. He had a new girlfriend; he needed a few days for her to let it settle in. When his rambling went on too long, Daws called him to attention and told him he’d been warned, that if she was still around when he got back, he’d know she thought he was worth the wait. If not, she wasn’t worth the worry.
Daws didn’t have much confidence Sonya would think he was worth the wait, but he supposed he could be wrong.
=======
“Moron.” Deanna swiveled back toward her desk and half wished the man would have heard her. She supposed that would be grounds to get fired, though. Maybe she didn’t care.
Of course she cared.
At twenty-seven, she expected to be more than just assistant to a production manager. She did more of his work for him than she was paid for, or that was ever acknowledged. She’d been at the top of her classes, even while supporting herself with the waitress job that quickly led to the hostess job – she had great people skills. Her mother used to say it would be her saving grace, if she could rein it in and throw it the right direction. Deanna long ago decided marketing was the right direction. She could talk her way out of, or into, most anything. She critiqued every commercial and every advertisement, seeing things she’d do differently. Maybe she wasn’t always right, but she could always convince someone she was. She had her hard-earned business associates, strong in English, along with her graphic art certificate. And she had six years with the same company. Whatever the socio-political scene these days said, advertising was still a man’s business and harder for her to be granted the respect she’d earned.
But that was the game and Deanna would keep playing it while she worked her way up. Not the way he wanted her to do it, either, the slime ball. So she wore her skirts fitted instead of baggy and droopy. She wasn’t droopy. There was nothing at all droopy about her and she wouldn’t pretend otherwise. All those mornings at the gym weren’t for nothing. It didn’t mean he had the right to assume she was what she wasn’t.
Moron. All men were nothing but morons. A shame she still needed, wanted, one of them. Not that one, though. Not if her boss was the last man on earth. Well, maybe then. After all, he did have the right parts. At least she assumed he did.
Allowing herself a chuckle and hoping if it ever came to getting stuck with the last man on earth that his parts would be worthy of the task, Deanna dropped the folder holding next week’s potential schedule onto her desk and checked the time. Ten more minutes. Then she could walk out of this metal and glass excuse for a building and find somewhere more quaint. There were still a few quaint bars in Manhattan. Some still had pretty brick or stone fronts instead of metal and glass. Of course, they all held the same scum-bag mentality men: looking for one thing and pretending otherwise. Such a difference from her little hometown. Kentucky didn’t have much to offer as far as the kind of job she wanted, but it did have real men who weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty or open a door for a lady. Men who still said ma’am and please and thank you. She had no doubt they were looking for the same thing, but at least they were more often polite while doing it.
If only she had a good reason to go back and visit. Maybe she could find one of those willing to move to New York with her. She chuckled again. Not likely. And not in the time she’d be able to afford to take off from work.
When the phone rang, she glared at it. Five minutes till quitting time. Did she have to answer? With a sigh, she figured she did.
“McCallister and Sons. This is Deanna. How can I help you?”
“Have I told you recently how much I love your sexy voice over the phone?”
She controlled a grin and glanced over to find him behind the glass in the next office. “Have I told you recently you shouldn’t call me here? You’ll get me fired.”
“Of course I won’t. I would never do anything to hurt such a sexy, incredible woman.”
“Yeah, okay. I’m old enough to know a line when I hear it. And it’s time to get out of here, so you’ll have to find a better line tomorrow.” She reached down in her drawer to claim her little black handbag.
“Deanna, don’t hang up.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“I’ll be at Verlaine’s just down the street for an hour or so after work. I hope I might run into you there.”
Verlaine’s. The fancy French-style bar-lounge. She’d been there once, not for long. “Can’t do it, Todd.”
“Big plans tonight?”
“Oh, yes. I have a big night planned: a private spa and a bottle of Italian wine, a dozen roses, and the most gorgeous hunk I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Silence came from the other end. “Oh. Well.”
“I’m teasing.” Deanna played with the file on her desk as though she was working, but she was tempted to look over to get his reaction. “Turn the spa into a skinny shower stall and the wine into a hard lemonade, the roses into a half-dead houseplant, and you’ll be closer.”
“And the hunk?”
“Patrick Duffy. I taped Dallas the other night and have a date with my television.”
He laughed. “Well, maybe I can do better than a night of lemonade and television.”
“Hard lemonade, and you can’t. I’ll get fired.”
“No, you won’t. Promise.”
“How can you promise that? I don’t work for you.”
“Let’s just say I know things about that boss of yours he doesn’t want anyone else to know, including the way he keeps trying to grope you.”
“How do you know that?” She looked over at him.
“I pay attention. And I’ll put an end to it. Meet me tonight. Let’s talk.”
Everything inside Deanna told her to turn him down. Dangerous territory. Way too dangerous. But, he was close enough to a hunk. He was cute as heck; she couldn’t deny that. And he was smart. Classy. He even held the elevator for her once by pressing a finger against the ‘open door’ button. It wasn’t quite the same as a strong arm reaching around to pull a heavy door open, but it was more than many did these days.
“I’ll meet you in the lounge area. Look forward to it.” Todd hung up, the air of victory hanging in the tone of his voice.
She should have refused. She still could. Her lemonade and VCR were waiting for her. The mostly dead plant. The skinny shower she bumped her elbows on.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to accidentally run into him, only for an hour or so, to enjoy some good conversation and a glass of wine before she went home alone.
=======
The rain was only sputtering by the time Daws got to Sonya’s apartment. As soon as his coat was off, she greeted him with a kiss and pulled him in toward the couch. “Food’s here. Smells incredible, nearly started without you.” She plopped down and grabbed one of the dishes.
Sonya talked about her day as they ate Thai food on paper plates with plastic forks. He liked Thai; he liked most anything, but he would have preferred an actual plate and fork. He wouldn’t insult her by suggesting the idea.
“So.” She dropped her empty plate on the coffee table and turned to him, pulling a socked foot up on the couch between them, her arms around the bent leg. “What brought you over tonight? You usually insist we wait for a weekend. Miss me? Or just looking to get lucky?”
“Last chance for a while. To come over.”
“Why?”
Using the Guinness she’d brought him as an excuse to stall, he grabbed a quick swallow. “Heading overseas in the morning.”
“What?” She dropped the foot back to the floor. “How long have you known? And you didn’t tell me?”
“Sonya, I just got the call. We’re heading to Kuwait.”
She stared as though he told her she had to go with him. Then she bolted up from the couch and turned to stare again. “No, you’re not. You tell them you won’t go.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Of course you can. We have no business there, anyway. For what? Stupid oil? Tell them no.”
Daws grabbed a deep breath and stood to meet her. “That’s not what it’s about, and I have orders. I leave tomorrow.”
“No. Fred, you tell them you won’t go.”
“Sonya, this is what I am. You knew that when we met.” He grasped her hands, hoping for at least a somewhat peaceful send-off, if not more than that.
“I didn’t expect you to actually ... fight. You know I don’t believe in it.”
“And yet you’re dating a soldier. Not the first time, either.”
She balked a bit at his reference to the two she’d mentioned having dated before him, more than once. “Well, playing around on post with guns is one thing. It’s target practice. No harm in that.”
“What do you think we’re practicing for?”
“But I didn’t think you’d ever ... it’s like grown up Boy Scouts. Camping. Fishing. Shooting targets. Macho stuff that’s really sexy, but...”
“You know it’s not the same.”
“I know we shouldn’t be there. We have no right.”
Daws nearly backed off. There was never much point in arguing the issue. This time, he couldn’t. “If someone invaded your house, you wouldn’t fight them off?”
“That’s different. And no one invaded our house. It’s someone else’s house, not our problem.”
“Isn’t it? What if our policemen felt that way?”
“That’s different.”
He moved closer and caught her eyes. “Have any idea what’s going on over there? How they’ve invaded people’s homes and are murdering them by the hundreds? There’s not one woman or child safe...”
“Their own government should stop it. Or someone over there. Not us. Not you. Why should I risk losing you for someone I don’t know?”
“It’s the government doing it, a strong country against a smaller one. How do they fight against that? And do you think it’ll stop there? With Kuwait? It won’t. It’ll keep spreading like it did when Hitler took Czechoslovakia and everyone ignored it, until he then took Poland and joined forces with Mussolini and ... it’ll keep going until we’re not safe here, either. There’s more behind it than you realize...”
“It’s not Hitler. It’s just a little country. They’re not bothering us. We don’t have the right to interfere.”
Daws dropped his eyes and bit his tongue. “All right, I can’t argue with you tonight. I wanted to tell you in person...”
She pulled her hands from his. “If you do this, you do it without my blessing, and don’t ask me to feel sorry for you or...”
“I have never asked anyone to feel sorry for me.” Daws held his position and her eyes until she turned away. With a deep breath, he nodded. “I think there’s nothing more to say.” He went to put his coat on and paused at the door. “Take care, Sonya. I wish you well.”
She looked at him but did nothing to stop him.
He walked out. There was so much he wanted to say to her but he didn’t have the energy. There would be enough fighting to come. He didn’t need it on his last night of freedom, freedom he would have to give up temporarily in order to help secure Kuwait’s freedom. He couldn’t help wonder how she would feel if a stronger nation ever tried to annex the U.S. Would she still think everyone else should stay out of it because it wasn’t their problem? Daws sure as hell hoped they wouldn’t. He also wouldn’t stand by and watch his neighbor’s house get invaded and do nothing. It wasn’t different. Invaders never stopped until someone stopped them. History had proven that throughout the centuries, both small and large scale. Success made victors stronger. That couldn’t happen with this regime. It was far too dangerous. Large scale dangerous.
Trying to put the thought aside, Daws considered heading to the NCO club for more pleasant company. Stepping outside changed his mind; the rain had turned into sleet. It pelted the back of his neck and he turned his collar up. He’d rather be home alone the rest of the night than risk driving on freezing roads. If he had his druthers, he’d spend the night in his actual home, but New York City was too far a drive for only one short night, even in good weather. And he wasn’t allowed that far away.
=======
As she stepped inside Verlaine, Deanna pulled out of her coat and wrapped it in on itself in order to keep the wet outer layer from brushing against anyone. At least the place was warm. She expected the rain might turn into snow overnight, or worse, ice. She shivered thinking of it.
“How ‘bout I buy you a drink to help you warm up?”
She turned her eyes to a man at her side. Way too much hair. It was in his eyes and along his chin, to the extent she could hardly see anything else. And he was short, too short for her five feet and seven inches, plus three inch heels. “Thanks. I’m meeting someone.” Deanna hadn’t yet decided whether or not to act like she was there specifically to hang out with Todd. Maybe she’d act uninterested and keep some distance while she viewed this bit of his personal life. You couldn’t tell personality well enough at work; in order to know them, you had to see them outside the office. She’d learned that lesson.
Verlaine was made for socializing, not for privacy. Even on a work night in the cold rain, the long bar and row of tables for two placed side-by-side were relatively full. Candles added light to the dim modern interior. The tall ceilings helped minimize the crowded feel and muffle the voices. Not that she minded crowds. Or noise. And she enjoyed the eclectic music selection. Jazz at the moment. It was nice. She hoped they’d avoid techno, though. She could happily live without that.
“Looking for someone in particular, or will I do?”
She tried hard not to roll her eyes and instead brushed the stranger off gently without more than a glance, then remembered Todd said he’d be in the lounge area. Of course. Sitting at the bar wouldn’t look elegant enough for him. He’d be on the couch, likely in one corner.
It didn’t take long to find him there, and to find she was right. A redhead was flirting with him, drink in hand, legs crossed so her short dress fell well off her legs toward her thighs. Deanna held back and ordered Ginger Sake from a passing waiter. She’d have only one to help get warm and to help convince herself she belonged in Todd’s crowd. She didn’t, of course, but she’d learned well how to act like she belonged wherever she was.
He only somewhat flirted with the girl in return, and pulled back when she tried to move in against him. Whatever he said appeared to appease her well enough. She didn’t quite stop flirting.
With drink in hand, Deanna ambled toward him. She spoke to a woman briefly who complimented her hair, assuring her the color and curl were natural so she didn’t have a hairdresser name to share, and gave the man beside her a very quick casual grin at his smile. Then she moved along.
Todd rose when he spotted her and beckoned her over; at the same time, he crowded the flirting girl farther away until she moved. Very slick. And effective. He touched Deanna’s arm, barely, professionally. “Imagine running into you here. Will you join us?” He gave a nod toward a few others, from the office. His coworkers.
“I suppose I can for a few minutes. I thought I was meeting someone, but I must have been mistaken.” Accepting the space next to him, Deanna had to wonder if he didn’t realize they would be there, or if he knew very well they would.
“We’ve ordered several tapas. Spring rolls, portabellas, calamari. Any of it sound all right or should I add to the order?”
“No need. If my friend arrives, we’ll have the shrimp tempura. If not, I won’t stay long enough to matter.” She sipped her drink with a quick catch of his eyes and skim of his body. The jacket he had on at work earlier was gone, as was the tie. His shirt was unbuttoned nearly as low as the V of her blouse. His build was decent, although she figured he could stand to step away from the desk now and then and pump up the muscles. Still, he was worth a look. Or two.
Todd caught her perusing him as he stopped a waitress and added shrimp tempura to the order. “This way you’ll have them already if he does show, or if he doesn’t. My treat.”
“Did I say it was a he?”
“I suppose I assumed.”
“Never a good idea.” Suddenly, Deanna wished she’d gone on home alone for her date with Patrick Duffy and her big comfy robe, plus a large plate of leftover spaghetti.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” Lenny, from Todd’s creative team, eyed her over his Bloody Mary.
“Unlikely you would have.” Deanna crossed her legs, noting Todd’s careful glance at them as she did. “I’ve only been once.”
“Yeah? Funny you happened to hit our monthly after-work wind down.”
“Is that what this is? Guess it is funny. Wasn’t intentional; I try hard to leave work behind at night. No offense.”
Todd interrupted Lenny’s response. “Is it a date you’re meeting?” He shifted closer. “Since you didn’t say and I shouldn’t assume.”
“No.” She touched his eyes. “Only an acquaintance.”
“Is that so? And yet you agreed to meet at a place you don’t generally come and you don’t seem awfully fond of. Interesting.”
Deanna took a sip of her Sake and shrugged. “Not so interesting. I’m open to new experiences. At least once. Sometimes even twice.” She relished how hard Todd had to try not to react.
“Twice would mean it isn’t a new experience, though.” Lenny didn’t bother to hide how he admired her legs.
She waited to answer until he finished and remembered where her face was. “Not necessarily true.”
“How isn’t it?” He leaned in, his elbows propped on his legs, his eyes on her.
“Well, the same act, done differently, or doing something different in the same place, makes the experience new, doesn’t it? For instance, if the first time you’re here, you sit and talk business and go home alone, but the next time you decide to walk around and find someone separate from business, maybe someone you want to take home when you go, that’s a whole new experience. Is it not?”
Lenny rubbed his lips together, staring. Todd nearly choked on his martini. Deanna pretended not to notice he did as Lenny kept her gaze.
“Maybe. Although either way, there’s a chance you’ll get screwed.”
Deanna grinned and raised her glass to him. “Touché. And on that note, I should get out of your way.” She let her glance flow around the small group. “I didn’t mean to interfere and it looks like my acquaintance isn’t going to show...”
Todd touched her arm. “You’re not interfering.”
“Not at all.” Lenny jumped in, with apparent refusal to allow Todd to grab her attention. “You’re in admin, right?”
Deanna sipped the Sake and noted Todd move again; this time his lower leg pressed into hers, under the table enough the coworkers wouldn’t see. “I’m lead assistant to the production manager. At the moment.”
“At the moment? You plan to move elsewhere?”
Todd cleared his throat. “No work talk tonight. That’s the rule, if you’ll remember.” He threw a pointed stare at his colleague.
It worked well enough and Deanna was glad to have the focus off her. She listened to the two men and three women banter about sports and families and such. The flirting girl continued her attention toward Todd and snagged her favorite snacks as soon as the dishes were set on the table. Including the shrimp.
Deanna did enjoy one, until the girl made a production of sucking the shrimp out of the tail. That was all she could take. “Well, I think I’ve waited long enough. Nice to see everyone. Good night.” She swallowed the last of her drink and stood, straightening her skirt. Lenny tried to object. She brushed him off and headed toward the bar to pay her tab.
“Can you call me a taxi, also?”
The bartender gave her a nod and went to grab her tab and ID as he stuck the phone between his shoulder and ear. Deanna always enjoyed watching them as they did so many things at once, kept orders straight, made change while taking orders, grabbed the phone to take calls and make them, and in between joked with patrons to make them comfortable. Maybe she’d missed her calling. She could do that. Although she didn’t figure that was what her mother meant by throwing her people skills in the right direction. Still, it could be fun.
“I’ll get that.” Todd pushed up beside her and handed the bartender a ten dollar bill. “Keep the change.”
Deanna accepted her ID but turned to Todd. “That’s not necessary.”
“I insist.”
She raised her eyebrows.
He shrugged. “Least I can do after dragging you out to a place you apparently don’t enjoy.”
“It’s fine. As I said, a new experience.”
“And you enjoy new experiences.”
“Depends. Sometimes I do.”
He grinned and edged closer. “I’d love to find out which you do and which you don’t.”
“Would you?”
“How about you wait here until I get my coat and I’ll see you home?”
A little too pointed for her taste. And much too soon. “Get your coat if you’re ready to leave.” When he grinned again and walked away, back to his colleagues, Deanna headed to the door, found her taxi, and went home. She figured she’d hear about it at work the next day, but the guy wasn’t about to get away with that kind of assumption. And things too often came easily for him. She wouldn’t be one of them.
=======
“Three sixty-four S3.” Daws raised his voice only enough to be sure his squad heard him over the farewells. He didn’t let himself linger on any of his men’s last moments with wives, kids, or girlfriends. He didn’t want to see it. They shouldn’t have been allowed on base. This kind of goodbye would have been better done at home. “Fall in.”
He gave them more time than he normally would to assemble into formation. Other squads were still hanging on their loved ones. His was the first to order semblance. Daws supposed it was due to the other squad leaders having their own families there. He didn’t mind being first. And it was time.
As others followed suit, Corporal Jenkins took a step forward. “Sergeant?”
“Corporal?”
“I think our families would appreciate a word from you.”
“Why?” When his men exchanged glances, he looked over at the small group standing as close to their soldiers as they dared. Young women. Little kids: the oldest four, the youngest ... the six month old Corporal Jenkins doted on, in his mother’s arms. The mother was just a girl, her face barely more than a baby itself, her long hair pulled back in a barrette.
Talk to them? And say what? He gave his corporal a ‘thanks a lot’ glance and searched for something to say that might be encouraging but without false promise. Their tour could be as short as a few weeks or as long as ... years. There were no promises given.
With a deep breath, he strode closer to the families, within hearing distance of his men in formation. They wouldn’t break it without his order.
“The men seem to think you want a word from me.” He avoided their eyes, although he felt them. “I have no words of comfort to offer. You can be assured our mission will come first, whatever the cost.” With the mistake of looking over at Private Butler’s new wife as she wiped tears, Daws dropped part of his bearing and softened his voice. “However, you can also be assured each one of them is well trained and I have full confidence in them. I’m proud to have them at my side. And I intend to bring them all home. We leave as a full squad; we’ll return as a full squad. I’ll do anything in my power to make that happen. In the meantime, be strong for them and make them proud.”
As he nodded his own farewell and began to turn, a soft “Hooah,” echoed by the other women, made him pause. His lips curled up slightly, and he took his place in front of his men.
=======
“Ms. Meyers.”
Deanna nodded at Todd as they passed each other and continued to the break room. Glad no one was there, she allowed herself a deep, refreshing breath as she refilled her coffee and stirred in too much creamer. It was strong, though, with a bitterness that said it had been sitting too long.
“Ah, I hoped you were alone.”
She turned at Todd’s voice. “Just getting coffee. Have to get back.”
He blocked her path. “You walked out on me last night.”
“You assumed too much last night. Excuse me.” She tried to pivot around him.
“Deanna. I was only offering to accompany you home and talk about that little issue I mentioned over the phone. The one I said I would take care of.”
“And I should believe that, based on the conversation?”
Todd grinned. “I believe the slant of the conversation was more your doing than mine.”
“All right, I’ll give you that, but I was annoyed.”
“About?”
“The work crew? You could have warned me.”
“Would you have come?”
“No. You still should have warned me.”
“Okay, you’re right. I apologize. How about I make it up to you over dinner tonight?”
“I don’t think so.” She again tried to move around him.
He took her arm. “Please. Have dinner with me.”
“It’s a work night and I’ve already done that once this week.”
“Friday, then?”
“I’ll think about it.” Deanna pulled from his grasp and went back to her desk.
=======
Daws checked the depth of the trench alongside the tent and the sturdiness of the wall of sandbags.
“All good, Sergeant? Or do you want another four foot so we can bury ourselves standing up?”
He looked down into the hole at the man covered nearly head-to-toe in sandy dirt, as they all were. “Keep it up, Kefner. I’m sure someone on latrine duty wouldn’t mind being relieved.”
The private laughed. “Relieved. Hell, Sarge, my bet is anyone on latrine duty has no problem with relieving.”
“Want to find out?”
“No, Sergeant.” He snickered again. “I’ll keep digging this hole as deep as you want. Just tell me when.”
“Looks like you could use a couple more inches.” Daws nodded toward a spot in front of the private, his gaze daring Kefner to make another comment. He didn’t. Daws was almost disappointed.
“Looks like you’re already deeper than the rest, S3.” Major Reynauld came up from behind Daws and peered down into the trench with a quick return salute to the men. “Carry on. I’m interested in knowing just how far your Sergeant thinks you should dig.”
“Till we get back to the other side of the world. Or farther into hell, if that’s possible.”
Daws didn’t bother to answer Butler’s comment. “All right. Dismissed. Go get as clean as you can. Kefner, finish your two inches first. With that big head of yours, you’ll need it.”
“Yes, Sergeant. Damn sure true but it oughtta be wider, not deeper, in that case.” The private snickered while the rest of the squad jumped all over his claim, then pushed his shovel deep into the dirt, threw it over the side, and pulled himself out of the hole.
Daws took another walk around the edge of the trench, pushing at the sandbags.
“Might as well release yourself, since you’ve released your men, Sergeant.”
“Yes, Sir. Just double checking.”
“For the fourth time, I would guess.” The major moved up to him and set a hand on his shoulder. “Relax, Fred. It’s late and you’re off duty, by my orders. Go get some rest. Or go grab a phone and give your girl a call. We have a few minutes of phone time tonight. Might be the last chance for a while.”
“Have no need for a call.” He shifted one of the bags.
“Even if you don’t, she’d appreciate it.”
“Don’t think she would.” Daws scratched the back of his head. He needed a shower, a full shower, not a cold field shower. “Broke it off.”
“Ah, I didn’t know. Since when?”
“Day before we deployed.”
The major propped himself on the sandbag wall and gave him a thoughtful nod. “Kind of figured she might be one of those. You need to find yourself a real woman, one worthy of settling with: hardy, intelligent, open-minded with good common sense. And energetic is always good.”
Daws pretended not to see the sly grin. “I don’t seem to be too appealing to that type. They take one look and hurry the other direction.”
“You need to learn to let your hair down. That’s your problem. Laugh now and then, Sergeant. You’re allowed. The right kind of woman will appreciate that sense of humor of yours once you let it out.”
“Talk to your family tonight, Sir?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He laughed. “All right, Sergeant. I’ll let it go again. I’d like to see you with a healthy, hardy, sweet girl, though. One who’ll both stand up to you and stand with you. I’d worry about you less.”
“Worry? For what reason?”
“You won’t always be in the Army, Fred. You’re going to need something to go home to one of these years. And it sure makes you look forward to the end of all this when you know you’ll be in your own bed every night, cuddled in to warm, soft arms.”
“Suppose it would.” Daws looked over to where four of his men were playing horseshoes. It had amused him to watch them melt down AK 47 barrels just enough to wrap into semi-circles. Another unit had confiscated the weapons from the enemy and destroyed a huge cache. He didn’t want to know why his men had a few of the barrels. Didn’t bother to ask. Neither did anyone else. Fewer weapons to be used against them was something to celebrate.
He put himself back in the conversation. “Have no plans to get out for some time to come. I’m happy enough with what I’m doing.”
“Well, something tells me that’ll change. Twenty-eight years of this have taken a toll. Not sure I should have pushed it quite that far, and I’m not sure I’d recommend it. Which reminds me, once I retire, I intend for you to come over and get to know my boys. See what you’re missing.”
“They’re doing all right?”
“Yes.” The major shook his head. “Although my little hothead is starting to worry Marianne. She didn’t appreciate that I laughed when she told me, but they’ve had some protestors at the gates and I guess some of the kids around town have said some things to Ryan. What does he do? Cuts his hair off military style, which Marianne is just livid about since he has beautiful hair, and claims one of my BDU shirts. He took the rank off and he’s wearing it as a jacket, just to throw it in their faces.” The major chuckled. “Scares her to death, and I have to say it worries me some since he’s only fourteen and no bigger than I was at that age, but you have to admire his spirit.”
Daws could see the pride shine strongly. He could also see the worry, and the way Major Reynauld wished he was home with his boys and his wife. That was something he didn’t figure he needed. It would only make the job harder.
When the major wound down and told him again to get some rest, Daws pushed through the tent flaps. With a quick scan to be sure all was as it should be – only his soldiers were there, playing cards, reading, or resting, on olive drab cots lined up along each side, their belongings stacked neatly against the head of the cots and the sides of the tent – Daws grabbed his soap and a pair of sweats and went to clean as well as he could. The way he saw it, the lure of a hot, private shower at the end of each day was as inviting a thought as having some woman’s arms waiting. Well, maybe close, anyway, and depending on the woman.
=======
Deanna couldn’t quite refuse to let Todd walk her up to her apartment. He’d behaved well on their first date. The conversation was interesting enough to hold her attention. He’d promised her boss would not bother her again. He’d taken care of it. Quietly.
She had a fleeting thought that he’d done it more to mark his territory than for her dignity. Either way, it would be nice to go to work without being constantly on guard and looking for a ditch to avoid the tornado.
Todd followed her in and scanned the place. It wasn’t much to see – secondhand furniture in unmatched patterns, an old desk that held her small television and collected her important papers, a little stereo on a bookshelf that held more music than books. From the door, he could see the whole place, except into the one bedroom.
“You’re happy living here?”
She took his coat and hung it on the rack. “It works. Want coffee?”
“No, thank you.” He wandered over to the one valued piece of furniture: her art table.
Deanna wished she’d thought to put her sketches away.
He picked one up, a pen and ink study of the Manhattan skyline at night. “What is this for?”
“Nothing. Playing with the medium. I haven’t done much with it but I like the contrast of the dark sky and bright lights every time I see them from a distance. I can never help staring.”
“And this?” He traded the city sketch for another.
“Oh. Just a few thoughts and sketches. Again, nothing to look at. Keeps my hands busy.”
Todd set it down and looked over at her. “I heard you had art training of some sort. It shows.”
“I have a design certificate, plus extra art classes.”
“Then why are you working admin?”
“My full degree is in business. That’s what was available. Sure you don’t want coffee? Or I have iced tea.”
“How about wine? Or something stronger?”
“Hard lemonade. Best I can do.”
Todd threw a surprised look and came to her. “And I thought that was a joke. The hard lemonade, half dead houseplant, and your hunk.”
“Not a joke.” She nodded toward the plant. “All true.”
One side of his mouth curled. “Maybe I should have taken you to my place. I have a nice Cabernet I’ve been saving for something special. Would have been glad to open it.”
“I had enough for dinner. Sorry I can’t offer you better, though.”
He touched her arm. “It’s fine. Next time I’ll be more of a gentleman and bring something with me.”
Deanna had to wonder if he was still talking about drinks. If he meant the “something” that came to her mind and he didn’t bring it, it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t need it.
Not nearly so fast.
He kissed her. Quickly, before she had time to draw back or consider whether she wanted to kiss him, Todd took her arms and leaned in. It was nice enough. Not great, but not bad. Firm but not aggressive. Enjoyable but not terribly sensual.
Maybe it wasn’t a good sign that she was analyzing the kiss as he was kissing her. She usually did that afterward.
“I suppose I should go.” Todd studied her as though waiting for her to argue, to ask him to stay.
“It is getting late. Thank you for dinner. I had a nice time.”
“Deanna.” He ran his hands up and down her arms. “I could find an excuse to stay, if I had a hint you might want the company.”
She wasn’t sure she’d heard that line before, and she’d heard plenty. “You’re moving too fast for me, Romeo. What would our parents say?”
“Our parents?”
“It was a joke. You know, the Montagues and Capulets and ... never mind. I did have a nice time. How about we leave it at that for now?”
He released her and stepped back. “All right. For now. How about dinner tomorrow night?”
“Too soon.”
“Next weekend?”
“Maybe.”
He smiled, a disconcerting smile. “Playing hard to get. I like that. Love a good chase.” Stepping back toward the door, he gave her a bow. “Good night, fair lady. Until we meet again.”
Deanna sighed as he closed the door. He wasn’t exactly Prince Charming. Charming maybe, but not a prince. He might do, though, for a while. She had no plans of settling too fast. She had a career to build, things to achieve. A man too tied to her would only be a distraction. For now, company at night, even someone who would do his own thing in the same room, would be good enough. Todd was independent. She didn’t see him as ever clinging. It could work. For a while.
Daws felt his squad’s apprehension as he watched Major Reynauld. Finally, the major lowered his head from where it had been tilted up toward the sky, and cast his eyes on his group of officers and NCOs. “Let’s do this. And do it as you’ve been trained: straight forward, no holds barred. We all came together; we all leave together. You and the mission are one and the same. Neither will fail.”
Neither will fail. Daws felt the strength swell inside that always came when their major addressed them. A gentle man, he was also one of the strongest Daws had known in his lifetime. Maybe the strongest. When he gave orders, he did it with full conviction that they would be followed, not with self-importance or with even a hint of rudeness, but with rightful authority. Daws had never, in the three years he’d served under the man, seen him disparage anyone. He’d rarely seen anyone bother to argue with the major. Anyone who knew him knew it would be pointless. He would listen, yes, but he never made decisions without first backing them up with knowledge. Once decided and presented, the course was set.
Still, on occasion, he joked with some of his most trusted men, both officer and NCO, about his past and how much trouble he got into as a child. He gave his wife, who he met when they were both military and stationed together, full credit for moving him past his youthful stubbornness and into responsible adulthood, such as it was. And he adored his children.
That was enough to endear him to Daws. Not that he wanted children of his own, but to be adored by a parent, even only one of them, was something he would like to have known.
Not that it mattered anymore. They were both gone and he had his Army family: his major and his men. It was the only family he planned to have.
At the burst of icy wind mixed with blowing sand, he clenched his body to prevent a shiver and his eyes to prevent irritation. He refused to look as cold as he was. Daws had always thought New York winters were harsh, but at least they didn’t have the infernal sand. Even with thick wool socks, the wool sweater under his uniform, and his winter coat with thick leather boots, the cold penetrated. If he had the luxury of a washing machine and dryer, he would layer two pairs of socks. His toes were cold. But he supposed that would be the least of his worries soon.
=======
Deanna turned away. Such a stupid move. She knew better. She never should have stayed with him.
Parts weren’t all that mattered. You had to know how to use them.
She sighed and pulled the blanket up around her shoulders. Maybe it was first time nerves. Far from the first time for either of them, it was at least their first time together. It took time to learn each other. He was at least attentive. She could teach him to be more than that, give him tips he apparently had never been taught. Anyway, she supposed he had a chance of improving.
Unable to sleep, she got up slowly and slipped his shirt over her shoulders, fastening one button in the center. She didn’t want to turn lights on until far enough away they wouldn’t bother him, so she stumbled through the living room, her feet icy against the hard floor, and to the kitchen. It didn’t take long to peruse the pantry; there wasn’t much in it. She always had snack bars in hers, as she so often needed to grab something quick before bed to hold her until morning.
Giving up, Deanna went back to the living room and stood beside the big window. City lights glowed through the dark. She couldn’t see the stars. Too cloudy. More snow tomorrow, they said. She’d have to get up and out early to make it back home before it got too deep.
=======
A piercing blast jerked him out of a restless sleep. Alarms. Shouting.
Daws jumped from his cot, pulled into his boots, frag jacket, and helmet while yelling at his men, grabbed his mask, and ran across the compound toward the smoke. Half-dressed soldiers were running the opposite direction.
“A SCUD.” A passing voice mixed with yelling and gunfire and alarms ... and unmoving bodies carried out of the barracks.
Daws knew his men were right behind him and didn’t bother to check before yelling over top of the commotion. “Let’s go. Search for the injured first. Get ‘em out.”
There were warnings to stay out of the building, of instability, of more attacks. If it was a SCUD, there was low possibility it would hit the same target. He urged his men on. A dangerous tactic, one he could very well be reprimanded for. Still, there were men inside, a few still straggling out. He would hope, if it had been his barracks instead, someone would go through hell or high water to find them. And his unit wasn’t the only one going in.
Smoke was heavy. He pulled his gas mask on, checked his men for theirs, and sent the ones out who didn’t have them. They could help as they could outside. After it all settled, he would pull them aside for an off-the-record reprimand. This wasn’t training. It was war. He was taking them all back home.
He spied motion in a corner, under a pile of wreckage, and signaled to a couple of his men to follow. They moved pieces of cots and clothing and wood and metal to clear a path. A young soldier looked up, his eyes dazed.
“Can you move?”
The boy stared. He couldn’t have been over nineteen. Daws nodded toward Jenkins to help lift the kid. There was no time to bother with a neck splint. The building, what was left of it, shivered and creaked. With Jenkins holding the boy’s legs, Daws at his shoulders and back, they kept him as close to the same position as they found him, eased him out to the open night air, and left him in care of a medic.
He was stopped as he tried to return. “All are out, Sergeant.”
Daws turned to find his men and yelled their unit name, taking count as they appeared. “Where’s Andrews?”
“Think he’s still inside, Sergeant. Didn’t see him come out.”
“Do what you can out here. Go.” He dismissed them and headed back to a huge gap in what used to be a wall.
“Can’t let you go in.” A hand grabbed his arm. “Building’s starting to collapse.”
“Have a man inside.”
“Then he better get out. You can’t go back in.”
“The hell I can’t.” He pushed past the man, no idea of his rank since he hadn’t put enough of his uniform on. And he brushed the arm away as it tried to stop him.
Yelling Andrews’s name as he pulled the mask from his face, Daws watched anything that moved, dodging as much of the worst of it as he could.
“Back here, Sergeant. Kinda stuck.” A cough followed.
Daws followed it, ducked falling debris, and found his specialist attempting to free his ankle from a piece of large metal. Support beam.
“Was about to cut it off.” Andrews coughed again, trying to grasp at whatever air was still left. “Think I could crawl out of here before I’d bleed to death? Trying to decide which would be worse. That or suffocation.”
Daws glanced at the knife in his soldier’s hand. “Not finding out today. Put that away. It’d be damn hard to go back to climbing scaffolds with one foot.”
“I could do it.” His voice shook between coughing.
“Yeah, I bet you could. Don’t need to prove it. Where’s your mask?”
“Gave it...” the cough interrupted. “Gave it to a kid having a hard time breathing.”
Daws pulled his own off and strapped it around Andrews’s mouth, despite his protest.
“Let’s get this off, and fast. Building’s about to tumble.” Timing it, they pushed together, and Daws covered Andrews’s head when it shifted more debris. “Gotta do it this time. Give me all you got. One, two...” On three, he shoved his back into the beam and lifted with his arms.
“I’m out.”
Dropping the thing, he grabbed Andrews around the back and yanked him away from more debris, larger debris.
“Thanks.” He coughed through the mask.
“Don’t thank me yet. Let’s go.” He slid an arm around his back, gripping him underneath the other arm, and helped support Andrews as he hopped beside him. The foot was useless. And they were moving too slow. Hard enough getting over the mess without hopping through it. “Stop.” He moved directly in front of his specialist, back to front. “Give me your arms.”
“I’m too damn big...”
“Give me your arms.” With some struggle, he raised Andrews over his back and gripped his legs. His chest burned. And his legs. The man was a good three inches taller, even with his own six feet and an inch or so, and not slight. He ducked a falling piece of something and kept his mind focused on the exit, the open air, on getting them all home. Andrews slid the mask back over his mouth. He didn’t argue. He needed to be able to breathe long enough to get them both out.
“Dawson.”
He was barely aware they were outside again when his major was in his face, and the weight lifted from his back. He bent forward and steadied himself with hands on his knees. Throwing the mask out of his way, he gasped for whatever fresh air he could find.
“You have to get farther away. Keep moving.”
He followed his major’s orders without hesitation, as always. Until he was beckoned to stop and sit. Through his burning lungs, a rough cough tried to clear his air passage.
“That was a fool-hardy thing you did.” Major Reynauld crouched in front of him.
“Yes, Sir.”
“You were told not to go back in.”
“Yes, Sir.” Daws coughed harder and tried to catch his breath.
“Are you aware it was a colonel you disobeyed?”
“No, Sir. He wasn’t wearing rank that I could see.”
A smirk brushed over his commander’s face. “Would it have mattered if you had known?”
Daws hesitated. Career-wise, he should say it would. Truthfully, he couldn’t do it. “No, Sir. My man was inside. We all came together. We all leave together.” A cough nearly doubled him over. Damn, his chest hurt.
“Breathe easy, Soldier.” The major set a hand on his arm.
“I suppose this means an official reprimand.”
“It should.” He waited while a medic put a respirator over Daws’s mouth.
The oxygen soothed him, enough to pull it away again to ask the medic about Andrews’s foot.