Country Wishes

by RaeAnne Hadley

  That year, Halloween fell on the same night as the Sadie Hawkins Dance. Naturally, the Dance Committee decided to make Sadie Hawkins a costume party. It had taken her two weeks to get up the gumption to ask Jake to the dance. She almost fainted when he said yes.

  When the night came, she’d raced her brother to the door, beating him by a touch. She opened the door, then clutched the door jamb for balance to find Jake, dressed as Thor, the Norse God, his long, wavy blond hair curling around the collar of his long, red cape.

  Her heartbeat sped up as she remembered the night.

  He stood on the porch wearing a sexy grin then started laughing when she stammered helplessly at the sight of him. His legs were braced a foot apart, his left arm raised holding a huge hammer, ready to clank it down on an imaginary foe. He later admitted to practicing the stance in his bedroom mirror, to get it just right.

  Her mouth was dry.

  Moisture pooled at the apex of her thighs.

  She couldn’t move.

  Carrie hadn’t even blinked.

  Her older brother, Steve, had shoved her aside and dragged Jake into the house to show their folks his costume.

  Jake moved past her, in all his gorgeous glory. Her date. The most popular boy in town.

  The guys at Hopeful High wanted to be Jake.

  The girls all wanted to date him.

  The same Jake Lassiter who was the tight end on the Hawks football team and the captain of the baseball team. And, he’d chosen her for his girlfriend.

  The year sped by, her Junior and his Senior year. Their relationship grew into something special. Everyone said so.

  Then, two weeks after Graduation, Jake joined the Army and scheduled to leave for boot camp in early August.

  Jake had always been idealistic. So, it was no real surprise when early that summer the grandfather he adored was dying from an illness thanks to Agent Orange, he told Jake—protect your team no matter what – and Jake took it to heart.

  At the funeral, she stood beside Jake as they lowered the old man’s coffin, and he’d vowed to keep that promise. She never doubted Jake would make his beloved grandfather proud. Unfortunately, she’d also been young and naïve, not really understand what that promise would ultimately mean to their future.

  Jake was convinced his grandfather would still be alive if things had been different in Vietnam, insisting he wanted to be there for his country the same way Gramps had always been there for his family, until his death. How many times had she sat beside Jake, listening to stories from his grandpa’s glory days? The man was larger than life and a real hero.

  Jake also wanted her to know he loved her and reminded her often she meant the world to him. The problem was that he also was a man of honor. Jake made an earnest plea for her to understand his decision prior to leaving for boot camp.

  What haunted her memories most was that neither one seemed to understand it wasn’t just stories, it was real life. It was war.

  The promise still haunted her.

  “I can’t see into the future. I can’t promise anything, not now. It’s not fair for you to wait for me. You’re about to start your senior year. It’s a very social time. I refuse to be the cause of you missing out on all the fun,” Jake had said. “I tried to plan my departure, hoping to be home on leave to take you to the Winter Formal, and again for your graduation, but the Army may have other ideas. I can’t ask you to wait for me. If I get lucky, so be it. But I’m freeing you to see other guys.”

  “No—” She tried to object, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

  “Please understand. I’m trying to do what’s best for you.”

  “Best for me, or best for you? Is this your attempt to sound noble? Are you planning on seeing other women?” Guilt enveloped her, making her sound like a jealous schoolgirl.

  Even now, the irony hurt.

  He’d pursed his lips, closed his eyes, and shook his head. “Not a chance. This is the military. I have no idea what’s in store for me. I expect for the next seven years, I won’t eat, breathe, or piss without permission.”

  It was their first and only argument.

  Then, before he departed for boot camp, he surprised her with a gift. A gold heart-shaped necklace with a small diamond embedded in the center. The back was engraved: With all my love. “Keep this necklace close to your heart and I will always be with you.”

  Carrie held onto those words like a promise and waited for him, never removing the necklace. It had become her lifeline to Jake all these years.

  And yet, over time, she called herself every kind of fool again and again.

  Tonight, she was an idiot of the first degree to allow her mind to wander to the places she’d barely managed to hold at bay.

  It was time to fact facts—the past was just that, the past.

  Lately, her apathy for life had been trumped by her success in the housing market. In fact, she hadn’t given their future a thought in months, focusing solely on the here and now, to get her through one day to the next.

  Besides, she’d been so successful that not long after Boomer and Erica’s wedding she decided it was time to start saving for a home of her own.

  It was Jake’s behavior while on leave that nudged her into action.

  Now, the house she’d coveted since childhood was on the market. The price had recently dropped by twenty thousand dollars.

  She’d also come to terms with the absence of Jake. It would be a simple matter of tossing out all the preconceived notions of making a home for them. Instead, the house would be for her alone.

  Suddenly angry to realize how little she mattered to the man who claimed to love her, she gnashed her teeth, silently berating him.

  Initially, Jake made it home and took her to the Winter Formal. They had eight precious days together before he had to go back for more training. Unfortunately, that’s where her luck ended.

  It broke her heart to have to say good-bye again.

  Jake missed her high school and college graduations. Missed every momentous occasion: weddings, births, and life in general back home in Hopeful with the exception of Boomer and Erica’s wedding.

  She’d had so much time on her hands with Jake gone, she began to volunteer with the Search and Rescue Team, a fact she hadn’t bothered to share with Jake.

  Physically, she was in the best shape of her life. Too bad she had no one special to share it with. Not that she hadn’t had offers. There had been several. Too numerous to count. She’d had lunch with a few, but by the end of the meal she knew enough to turn down any possibility for a second date. Pure and simple, they weren’t Jake.

  At a crossroads in her life, Carrie decided to call upon the lore of the wishing well for help. She dug into her purse and pulled out a dime then closed her eyes, kissed the coin, and tossed it into the well. She heard the soft plink-plink as it bounced off the wall and entered the water. She then spoke aloud softly, voicing her wish:

  “Please give me a sign that he's the one. Bring him home. I don't care what it takes.”

  Even as her wish touched the air in the whoosh of frosty vapor, her heart ached as if someone reached inside her, grabbed her heart, and squeezed until the blood pumping organ was on the verge of exploding.

  She missed him so much. Why did her love feel akin to grief?

  What hurt the most was having to admit the fact she still loved him…the boy she’d fallen hard for.

  Carrie stood still. Her feet frozen in place. Only now did she realize just how cold she was as the icy cold snow surrounding her pointy high heels sent pained needles to her lower digits. She curled her toes several times trying to force the blood flow. Slush from the melting snow seeped into her shoes. Her teeth began to chatter. More from nerves than the chill. She didn’t know where to go, couldn’t bear the idea of going back to the party only to pretend everything was okay. She was tired of the pretense. Exhausted, in fact.

  Carrie didn’t want to go home.

  Before she’d left the office today,
she made the offer on her dream house, an older, well loved, farm style property.

  If only.

  She hated those two words. And yet…

  If only…Jake were here.

  If only…he’d given her something to hope for.

  If only…she knew for sure Jake loved her.

  If only…she knew what her future held.

  That wasn’t the case. Carrie lived in a small apartment, saving her money, while waiting for Jake to come home. It didn’t matter how comfortable she’d managed to make her place the silence of her small three-room space was a constant reminder of just how alone she was.

  Maybe she was finally ready to get a dog. No. She was gone all day long. It wouldn’t be fair to an animal. Maybe she could try a goldfish?

  If only.

  No—those days were over. She had to let go.

  And yet, she was no closer to figuring out her life.

  “Hey girl,” Erica Jenkins looped her arm around Carrie’s.

  Startled from her misery, Carrie rested her head on Erica’s shoulder, a flurry of fresh snowflakes swirling around them.

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” Erica threw her arms around her friend. “I wish Jake was here, I’d smack him silly for putting you through this crap.”

  Carrie sucked in a breath. “I can’t do this. I’ve got to go.” Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. She hugged her friend and raced into the night. Erica would understand.

  Chapter Two

  January 3, 2019

  Staff Sergeant, Jake Lassiter, wearing sixty-five pounds of loadout, slid into place. Raising his left arm, hand clenched into a tight fist, motioning his team to halt. Squatting down, he duck-walked under the window, then across the doorway where he rose and flattened himself against the house on the opposite side of the door. Water stained crumbling plaster and neglected roofs marred the sorry excuse for the three dwellings along the narrow road.

  Thor the Scout Dog, stood ready at his side, awaiting his handler’s command.

  Jake sniffed the air. No scent of food cooking.

  An ear to the door elicited nothing but silence.

  One last glance at their surroundings. No movement at all. Not so much as a breeze to disturb the birds singing in the trees.

  The patrol team stood ready, waiting for his signal to move out.

  Hand up, fingers motioning—three, two, one, go—pointing at the entrance.

  Porter kicked in the door, then pulled back.

  Jake signaled.

  The fur missile burst through the entryway, ready to take out the first threat and cause a distraction.

  Jake led the charge, expertly choreographing the sweep of the house as he went.

  Porter followed, replicating his moves.

  Garcia, Chang, Flynn, and Mortenson blew past him, rifles drawn. They spread out, clearing one room after another.

  Only Murphy was missing from their team, honorably discharged when his wife was killed. He was now home caring for his two-month old daughter.

  Jake and Porter carefully searched the front room then guarded the front of the house.

  Porter inside.

  Jake outside.

  The well-trained German Shepherd stood beside him, at attention, waiting for his next command. Thor the E4 Specialist and Jake the Scout Handler.

  Thor wasn’t just his partner, he was Jake’s best friend.

  The German Shepherd’s well-proportioned body stretched in an agile stance, chomping at the bit to get back into the shit. His dark almond-shaped eyes working the sight. His pointed ears upright, and forward. His thick black, tan, and sable coat glistened in the sun.

  Jake motioned for Thor to remain on alert.

  The fearless animal, eager to please his handler, obediently stood poised, ready to attack.

  Unable to ignore the sweltering heat, Jake wiped his brow. It had to be the warmest January on record, already eighty degrees at seven in the morning. It didn’t help that the sixty-five pounds of gear weighing him down was beginning to feel like he was carrying a huge boulder instead. Sweat trickled down his spine. It was the humidity that did him in, it was murder. He’d give anything to be home in the cool mountains of Hopeful, Colorado, rather than in Afghanistan, with its offensive heat, and endless dust storms, trying to help people who hated the Americans and their unwelcomed interference. During his time in Afghanistan, he could count on one hand the number of people who showed a single element of appreciation for his beloved military being there.

  He missed hunting with Boomer, bringing in enough meat for the year and another head added to the den wall.

  Giving Thor a scratch behind the ear, Jake realized just how lucky he was. He had a great team, the perfect partner, and they had a perfect run, so far.

  Garcia, Chang, Flynn, and Mortenson joined them in the front room, each shaking their heads.

  “Empty. No one’s been here from some time.” Garcia held up a heavily dusted, gloved hand.

  The team stepped into the blinding sun.

  Chang scanned side-to-side narrowing his gaze. “I don’t like it. This was supposed to be a solid tip.”

  Thor’s body surged forward, putting himself in front of his handler, exercising a strong protective instinct and hyper-vigilant attitude.

  “Where’d the tip come from?” Flynn swung his MP4 over his shoulder, then unfastened his Kevlar helmet strap.

  Mortenson, who had reached up to flick the release on the strap of his helmet, suddenly whirled around, raising his rifle. “Did you hear that?”

  All stood in guarded silence, listening intently.

  “Easy,” Jake whispered, motioning his team back inside. Once safely behind the closed door, the team dispersed to various windows, scanning the terrain on all four sides. They met back near the front door. “There are two more houses nearby, check’em out just to be sure.”

  Cautiously, Jake opened the door, glanced both ways then motioned his team into action.

  Garcia and Chang moved to the next house and did a repeat of their previous moves. It too was empty.

  The hair on the back of Jake’s neck tingled. He was still on guard. “Keep your eyes open.” His anticipation level rose.

  His faithful partner stood ready to act.

  Flynn and Mortenson cleared the third house then made their way back to the Humvee, walking around it before loading into the vehicle.

  Jake held back. The tick on his neck, the one Porter dubbed his ‘Spidey’ sense was still tingling, too strong to ignore. Something was off, but what? It wasn’t visible or obvious, but he knew better than to let it go.

  “Com’ on Lassiter. Let’s get out of here. I’m hungry.”

  “You’re always hungry, Garcia.” Flynn chortled.

  Garcia flipped the bird. “And, you’re always horny.”

  “Silence!” Porter shushed them.

  All stilled.

  Thor went up on his haunches.

  A flock of birds flew from behind the second house, as if startled from their peaceful perches. The bird’s rapid departure drew a fond memory of past dove hunts, back home in the Rockies. He couldn’t afford to spare a single moment in time, so he tamped down all thoughts of home…he had to stay focused…lives were at stake.

  Jake held a hand up. Drawing toward the second house, he recognized a muffled thwack. He ducked as he yelled a warning. “Sniper!” Turning to check on the team, Garcia was standing on the foot hold of the vehicle then crumbled to the ground with an oomph. He didn’t get up. He didn’t move.

  Porter started the Humvee.

  “Go, go, go—” Jake shouted, motioning his team to leave. “I’ll catch up.”

  The vehicle lurched with a roll.

  Jake scanned his surroundings as he ran for the opened door. He stumbled and watched helplessly as the Humvee shook and bucked, then bounced when it hit a rut.

  “We’re hit, we’re hit—” Porter shouted, “—front tire.”

&nb
sp; Jake sprinted, jumped, made a flying leap for the open door, Thor charged behind him, launching himself through the air.

  Thor slammed into his side, knocking the air out of him.

  There was an explosion.

  Jake was mid-air, when the percussion blew them backwards, free from the Humvee.

  Jake couldn’t breathe, trying to inhale, yet unable to. His lungs ached but refused to expand. He huffed shallowly, twice, before he was able to draw a single, slight drag of air. Letting out a weak gasp, his chest felt as if he’d just been hit by a freight train—head on.

  Heat radiated off the hard ground beneath him. The boiling sun overhead beat down on his face. His head hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. He practically had to will his eyes to open, ultimately managing to raise only one lid, his left, which was met by blurred vision. A swipe at his damp forehead revealed a hand covered in blood. A failed attempt to lift his head, resulted in a throbbing, debilitating pain forestalling any further movement.

  Jake blinked again trying to clear his vision. Where was he? He turned his head, or tried to, pain shot through him to the tips of his combat boots.

  Nothing made sense.

  The smell of burning rubber curled his nostrils. From his prone position, all he could see were flames and coils of dark smoke rising from a burning vehicle resting on its side.

  It took a few blinks before it dawned on him where he was.

  Afghanistan.

  Another to deem the reality of it all was not a nightmare. And yet a third, before he concluded that he couldn’t hear a thing.

  Where was his team?

  The rest of Jake’s senses were equally slow to recover.

  An inventory of his body proved damned near impossible, as his brain couldn’t seem to register the existence of his limbs.

  Numb.

  No feeling from his legs and torso.

  The rest of him was a different matter.

  Managing to perform a cursory scan of his limbs, he gasped, grateful to see he still had two legs which wobbled in army issued boots exactly where they were supposed to be. Other than his head, he felt no pain, which he attributed to the adrenaline rush of the moment. He’d probably hurt like hell later. Two arms, albeit in some discomfort, as they began to tingle and throb even as he lay still. One head, not quite working properly, but then again, that was nothing new. At least he hadn’t suffered any major injuries.