by Skye Taylor
Mark Dickey visibly swelled with pleasure, squared his shoulders, and sucked in his gut. “Going back to school, too. Goin’ ta learn how to keep those monsters running after you’ve done your best to drive ’em into the ground.” Mark set their beers on the table, then turned to accept the shoulder and back-slapping several of his buddies offered in a show of support and congratulations.
It suddenly occurred to Philip that the visible change in this young man was in a small way due to his intervention. It hadn’t started out that way. He’d just stopped to talk to the guy at PT and given him his number, but hadn’t expected anything to come of it. Even when Elena suggested he get more involved, he hadn’t done anything until the afternoon Dickey hit the end of his rope and called the only lifeline he had.
Looking out for my boys. I’ve been there. I know what combat is like, and I know what being a Marine means to a man. And that let me help when other people couldn’t.
If only I could get my own life squared away.
If he got back into the field, the nightmares would fade. They always had. Being actively involved and surrounded by fellow Marines who didn’t spend their days in the safety of a Stateside billet would make him feel like a leader again. Now that he had Elena’s clearance for duty, the chance was within his grasp.
But, for the first time in his life, Philip wasn’t so eager to go. No, make that the second time in his life. He hadn’t wanted to leave Elena fourteen years ago either.
And now he had a daughter to consider. A daughter he wanted to spend as much time getting to know as possible. Times had changed and things like Skype and cell phones made keeping in touch easier. But that wasn’t the same as playing tennis together, or sitting around the same table at dinnertime. And you couldn’t hug your child from halfway around the world.
Julie loved Eli, and Philip understood her allegiance. He was proud of her for her loyalty to a man who had given her so much even when he’d had no reason to give her anything. It still hurt that Julie called Eli Dad, but he was growing fond of the lilt she put into the word Gunny.
He enjoyed her almost nightly phone calls, and listening to the details of her daily life. He’d enjoyed the evenings they had spent hitting tennis balls around a lit court while he got back into the sport. He liked it when she popped up at his quarters without warning, and he loved her intelligent, well-informed mind. For a girl not quite a teenager, she had a remarkable grasp on current events. Besides, she rooted for the same major league teams he did. Everything about her both surprised and pleased him.
“So, tell me about your kid.” Mark sat down and reached for his beer.
“You reading my mind?”
“Huh?” Mark frowned.
“You sure you want to listen to a proud father brag?” Considering your situation, Philip almost added.
A cloud passed across Mark’s features, but he put a smile on his face. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“She’s twelve, going on twenty,” Philip began. “And smarter than I ever was.” He proceeded to sketch a picture of Julie, while trying to keep the wistfulness out of his voice. He’d missed so much but Mark would be missing even more.
“What happened to her mother?” Mark asked. He held his hand up to signal the bartender to send more beers. “Did she look elsewhere while you were gone?”
Of course that would be Mark’s assumption, considering how often that happened to men who spent more time out of the country than in it. And considering how easily Sharon had jumped ship when the going got tough.
“Not really,” Philip said after a long pause. “Just a lot of miscommunication.”
“You still see her?”
He’d seen quite a lot of her the week Julie was away. Sensation flooded his groin at the thought of how much of her he’d seen. And touched. And made love to.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered. “I see her, but—”
“But?” Mark prompted.
“We argued and I said some things I shouldn’t have said.”
“So, apologize,” Mark advised with a shake of his head.
“I did.”
“And?”
“It’s complicated. For one thing, she hasn’t forgiven me. But for another, I think she’s afraid if she cares too much, I’ll be gone again and maybe I won’t come back.”
Mark took a swig of his beer while studying Philip, his brow tight over his questioning gaze. “You love her?”
Philip swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. “More than life itself.”
“Easy answer then. Don’t go. You’ve got enough years in and a lot to stay home for. You just gotta decide what means more to you. This lady you say you love, or being a Marine.”
Chapter 38
May 2015
Camp Lejeune, North Carolina
GUNFIRE ERUPTED and everyone hit the dirt. Philip hesitated for a split second. He flashed a glance toward his rifle more than fifteen feet away, then to the half-submerged MRAP with one Marine still inside. The gunner popped up on top of the second vehicle and returned fire with the Browning.
Philip lurched from his prone position and ran for the canal. A stab of pain in his thigh hurt like hell, but it didn’t take him down. He slithered into the water, found the door, and wriggled inside. He pulled the man’s head above water and felt for a pulse. Alive. Please, God, let him stay that way.
As he cleared the top edge of the canal with his burden, a heavy blow slammed him sideways. He stumbled, but kept to his feet and staggered toward the protection of his squad. Another hit ripped up his forearm. His grip on the man he carried slipped. He cursed. The pain was excruciating. Only a few more feet. Only . . .
“I got him, Gunny.”
He barely heard Anderson’s scream above the sound of the Browning. Something was wrong with his vision. Something was definitely wrong with his hand. He tightened his arm more firmly about the man’s leg.
“Let go, Gunny. I got him,” the young corpsman screamed, his face just inches from Philip’s ear.
His head buzzed.
Whop, whop, whop, whop . . .
A chopper!
Thank you, God. He closed his eyes.
“Stay with me, Gunny.”
Where would I be going?
“Gunny!” Someone slapped his face.
He forced his eyes open. A pair of concerned brown eyes in a sweating black face wavered in and out of focus.
“I’ve been hit,” he whispered in disbelief. He tried to focus on the corpsman’s face, but the effort seemed impossible. He closed his eyes again.
“It’ll hurt less in a minute,” the corpsman promised as he jabbed Philip in the thigh.
Philip began to recite the twenty-third psalm. “The Lord is my shepherd . . . ”
“He might be your shepherd, but I’m in charge here, so listen up. We’re getting you outta here. Just hang in there.”
“I fear no evil . . .”
The corpsman slapped a sticker onto Philip’s helmet and gave his shoulder a squeeze.
“You are with me . . .”
“Damned right, I’m with you. Don’t quit on me now.”
Philip jerked bolt upright in bed, breathing hard, drenched in sweat and shaking.
The noise of gunfire and rotor blades faded into the dead quiet of his room. He swung his feet over the edge of the bed, leaned his elbows on his thighs and propped his head in his hands while the echoes of hell faded from his brain. He hadn’t dreamed about his injury in weeks. At least, not in such detail. Why now?
Had he had too much to drink? He’d called a taxi rather than drive home, but still . . .
Mark Dickey’s question popped into his shattered memories. You gotta decide what means more to you. This lady you say you love or the Marines.
He couldn’t imagine not being a Marine, but things were different now.
I have to make a choice.
Chapter 39
Memorial Day Weekend, 2015
Tide’s Way, North Carolina
ELENA CARRIED HER overnight bag on her shoulder and a box of pastries from her favorite bakery in one hand. Julie had her gear shoved into a backpack, and carried her tennis racquet with the hopes of getting in one last practice with her father before the big event at school.
As they emerged from the apartment building, Julie gasped and bolted down the steps.
“¡Hay caramba! When did you get the awesome car?”
Impossibly handsome and looking far more relaxed than Elena had seen him lately, Philip leaned against the fender of a cherry-red Chevrolet Camaro convertible with his arms folded across his chest. His expression, shaded by a navy blue Tarheels cap, softened as Julie raced toward him. He opened his arms just as she reached him and returned her enthusiastic hug.
Elena’s heart contracted with a mix of intense envy and thanksgiving. Philip had so easily and wholeheartedly accepted his paternity, and that should make her grateful. It did, but she couldn’t help wishing he would reach out to hug her, too.
“You like it?” Philip answered Julie’s eager question. “I just couldn’t manage the stick shift until your mom got me fixed.”
“It’s the bomb.” Julie danced around the car to view it from all angles. “Can we put the top down?”
Philip glanced toward Elena with his eyebrows raised. He’s looking for my permission now? He invited Julie for the weekend without even discussing it with me and now he thinks to ask about taking the top down?
She shrugged her assent, still feeling decidedly off balance with the conflicting emotions raging in her brain.
Philip opened the trunk while Julie fidgeted with excitement.
“Is all our stuff going to fit?” Elena gestured to her weekend bag and the box of pastries.
“No sweat,” Philip responded, taking the bag and the box, and tucking both into the well of the trunk. “Yours can go in the back seat with you,” he told Julie, pointing to her backpack.
Julie pouted. “I don’t get to sit up front?” She shot a frown toward Elena, then brightened again as she turned her gaze back to Philip.
Philip laughed and gave her shoulder a pat. “I’d give you that old saw about age before beauty, but your mom’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. She’d win on both counts. So, I’m going to let you two ladies duke it out.” He shut the trunk and moved around to the driver’s door, folded himself inside, and fiddled with something above his head while Elena’s heart dealt with the unexpected compliment.
The top lifted and folded toward the back as the windows descended.
“Please? Can I sit up front, Mom?” Julie begged.
A stab of envy struck again. Elena had never felt this tug of warring emotions with Eli. But then, her relationship with Eli had been very different. She’d been more certain of herself, at least until he’d begun to cheat on her. But jealous of Julie? That was new. Unsettling. And not very flattering.
She swallowed her chagrin, folded the passenger seat forward and climbed into the back. She shoved Julie’s backpack across the seat and settled in.
Philip glanced over his shoulder and gave her a brief smile. “Comfortable? There’s not much legroom back there.”
“I’m good,” Elena answered, not quite meeting his gaze. Being short had at least some advantages.
Philip winked and Elena’s heart did a somersault. Then he turned his attention forward and started the engine. “Buckle up and take your hat off unless you want to lose it.”
Julie grabbed the ball hat with Mickey on the front and yanked it off her head. “That go for you, too? Traitor!” She tweaked the brim of Philip’s hat, knocking it off into the back seat. “I thought you were a Padres fan?”
“We’re in Tarheel country, now. My brothers would give me grief if I wore anything else.” He rolled his eyes. “Are you ladies in a hurry to get to Tide’s Way, or would you rather go the scenic route?”
“The scenic route,” Julie answered before Elena could voice an opinion.
Philip gave her a brief salute and turned at the corner to head in the direction of Topsail Beach.
A perfect day for a drive in a sporty convertible. Julie’s long dark hair blew in tangled confusion while her face exuded enjoyment. She gazed at the beautiful homes and peered eagerly down side streets to catch glimpses of the ocean. When they finally turned inland, she gazed at her father instead. She seemed to be studying his face as they chatted, and she smiled more often than she had since they’d moved east. Whether it was the company or the exuberance of a ride in a convertible, Elena couldn’t guess.
They might be similar in appearance, but the contrast between Eli and Philip, their lives and personalities, couldn’t have been sharper. Eli had the build of a runner. Philip was all solid muscle, but both were of above-average height. Eli’s eyes weren’t quite as blue, nor his hair as fair, but they still might have made people wonder if they were related. On their philosophy and life choices however, they were a world apart.
Eli was a pacifist, Philip a warrior. Eli was an only child, overprotected and spoiled, while Philip, the oldest of five, had spent his entire life, even as a boy, taking on responsibility. Eli spent so much of his time either reading or writing novels that he often lost sight of current events and real life. Philip loved to read, but he was totally grounded in the here and now. Elena wondered how the two men measured up in Julie’s eyes.
Julie had always adored Eli, but in the short time she’d known Philip, she appeared equally captivated by him. With a start, it occurred to Elena that Julie had spent a lot more time on the phone with Philip in the last two weeks than she’d spent talking to Eli. And that was on top of the hours she spent with him, both on the tennis court and going out for pizza.
Now that circumstance, in the form of that box of old stuff Eli had handed over to Julie, had finally brought the truth out, Julie seemed far more resigned to their move to the east coast. After her initial shock, Julie had accepted Philip’s presence in her life with far more grace than Elena ever would have expected. Maybe it was a good thing that the information had come without being attached to an announcement of a relationship between Philip and Elena.
If there ever had been a relationship between them beyond the physical.
Philip’s guarded behavior over the past few weeks filled her with doubt. One moment, she was sure he would never forgive her. The next he would say or do something to give her a glimmer of hope. But, except for that brief kiss at the end of his last physical therapy appointment, he had not touched her, nor seemed to want to. There had been no heated gazes, no electric sparks of desire when they happened to be close. The possibility that there might never be anything more than this distant feeling of friendship stabbed at her heart with painful, almost breathtaking intensity.
By the time they finally crossed the bridge to the small barrier island that Philip’s parents lived on, Elena’s nerves were frayed, and what little confidence she’d mustered up for this confrontation with his parents had almost disappeared.
A few minutes and several qualms later, Philip pulled into a driveway packed with vehicles. A Ram pickup truck, scuffed and burdened with toolboxes, the familiar blue Buick, an ancient minivan, another pickup truck with a logo featuring the head of a handsome German Shepherd, and a North Carolina State Highway Patrol car. Should have just been the Ram and the Buick. The crowded d
riveway meant all of Philip’s brothers were here, too. Elena’s heart surged into panic mode.
Julie unfolded herself from the car and surveyed the clutter of vehicles, then looked up at the house. Usually outgoing and comfortable meeting new faces, she suddenly seemed as nervous as Elena felt.
Elena climbed out of the low-slung sports car and faced Philip across the roof. The scent of the ocean permeated the air and a slight breeze tangled in her hair, but that just triggered old memories. Memories that left her slightly breathless. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and caught Philip’s gaze.
“You said this was just a visit for Julie to meet her grandparents.”
“That’s what I thought it was.” The look in Philip’s eyes was a mix of chagrin and apology. “I forgot about the annual Memorial Day gathering.”
Philip’s mother appeared on the deck above them, surrounded by dogs of all sizes and descriptions, and with a wide, welcoming smile on her face. “I wondered when you’all’d get here.” She hurried down the stairs with an eager Lab and an officious Scotty at her heels.
Philip enveloped his mother in a hug that lifted her clear off the ground. The big black dog circled them, his tail slapping at Philip’s legs while the Scotty woofed softly. Philip whispered in his mother’s ear as he set her down, and she shrugged with a look of complacent triumph on her face. Then she turned to Julie who stood shyly in Philip’s shadow.
“And you’re Julie. My gosh, I’d know you anywhere.” She swept Julie into her embrace. When she finally let go and stood back with her hands still gripping Julie’s shoulders, there were tears on her cheeks. She looked at her son for a moment, then turned toward Elena. Elena expected to see condemnation in her expression.
But she was wrong.
“One day, you will tell me everything, but not until you’re ready,” Sandy Cameron said as she pulled Elena into a group hug with Julie.
