01.0 Soldier On

by Sydney Logan

  With those words, I burst into tears. I can’t talk for crying. So I just cry and cry, because I know we’re going to be together. He wouldn’t be this happy if we couldn’t be.

  “After AIT graduation, my post will be here at Fort Gordon. I’ll be developing and implementing upgrades to the communications and security systems here on base.”

  I smile at the screen. “I don’t even know what that means.”

  Brandon laughs. “It’s okay. You don’t have to know what it means.”

  “For how long?”

  “Eighteen months,” he says. “It’s just six hours from home, which isn’t bad at all. I have to live on base, but we knew that.”

  Because he’s single.

  “Yeah.”

  “But I’ve been looking around. There are plenty of apartment complexes close by. There are three school systems. There’s even a school on base, and the teachers are mostly civilians. Can you teach in Georgia? I don’t know how that works. I guess you’d need to get certified. . .” His voice trails off when he notices I’m not saying a word. “Babe?”

  “I’m here.”

  He grins and places his hand on the screen. I do the same. We know it’s cheesy, but it’s ridiculously comforting.

  “You’re not here. Not yet. But I want you to be . . . if you want to be.”

  “I want to be.”

  We smile stupidly at each other.

  “Almost over, babe. I’ll be home in two weeks.”

  It’s late, and he has an early morning PT, so we make plans to talk to each other tomorrow night.

  “I love you, Steph.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He gives me a wink, and then the screen disappears.

  The next two weeks are a blur because I don’t stop. The very next morning, I begin making lists and formulating a plan. I get online and learn all I can about Fort Gordon, Georgia. I scope out apartments, schools, restaurants, and libraries. After contacting the state’s education department, I learn that I will need to take another test in order to be certified to teach in Georgia. After registering for that, I then turn my attention to searching for a place to live. Finding one in my price range is difficult. Finding one that allows pets is even harder.

  Overwhelmed, I call my pregnant best friend for support.

  “I don’t understand,” she says. “Why can’t you live on base?”

  “Because we aren’t married.”

  “Okay. And why does he have to live on base?”

  “Because we aren’t married.”

  “Hmm. This sound like an easy problem to solve.”

  My ear’s going numb, so I put her on speakerphone.

  “Not really. Even if we were married, we’d probably be wait-listed for military housing. We could get an apartment off base, though.”

  “So you’ve thought about it.”

  “Sure, I’ve thought about it. You know me. I have to consider all options.”

  “I do know you. It sounds like a lot of this would be solved if someone would propose. Need me to make a call? Because if I know soldier boy, he is dying to ask you to marry him. I bet I could have you engaged by lunch time.”

  I laugh. “No, Tessa. I don’t want to get married just because of the housing allowance.”

  “Well, there are other benefits, too. Like insurance.”

  “Tessa!”

  “I’m serious. You don’t realize how important insurance is until you’re pregnant and don’t have any.”

  Mom chooses that moment to walk through the kitchen. She stops, raises an eyebrow, and then nods in agreement.

  “Tessa was just describing all the perks of being an Army wife.”

  “I see.”

  “Am I on speaker?” Tessa whispers, which is hilarious. Even if you’re whispering on speaker, you’re still on speaker.

  Mom steps closer to the phone. “Hello, Tessa. How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

  “Oh, hi Cynthia! Ugh, I’m so fat. My feet are swollen. My boobs are swollen. And we can’t decide on a baby name.”

  I don’t tell her it would probably be easier to settle on a name if they knew the sex. But she and Xavier are adamant about keeping the baby’s gender a mystery.

  After we hang up, I take my laptop and head out to the porch swing. Mom is there, reading today’s newspaper.

  I sit down beside her and look toward the sky.

  “Rain’s coming.”

  She nods. “We’re due a thunderstorm. It’s been a day or so.”

  I nod and open my laptop.

  “Stephanie, I can’t deny I’m a little hurt. If you wanted to discuss the perks of being an Army wife, I would have thought you’d come to me.”

  My fingers freeze on the keyboard. “Oh, Mom, that was Tessa just being silly.”

  “Was it? I can’t imagine as close as you and Brandon are that the conversation hasn’t come up at least once.”

  “Twice.”

  She smiles.

  “It would solve the apartment issue, Steph.”

  “Like that’s a reason to get married.”

  “So what is a reason to get married?”

  “Are we seriously having this conversation?”

  “I think we should. What is a reason to get married?”

  I sigh heavily and close my laptop.

  “Because you love each other.”

  “Yes.”

  “Because you never want to be without him.”

  “Keep going.”

  “Because . . . you can’t imagine growing old and gray with anyone but him. Because he loves your cat. And your obsession with the 80s. And he has dimples and a kickass Inigo Montoya T-shirt.”

  “Inigo . . . what?”

  “And he loves me, Mom. He really loves me.”

  “I know, sweetheart.”

  I don’t realize I’m crying until she hands me a tissue.

  “Love like that is rare,” she says softly. “Personally? I wouldn’t waste a second of it.”

  “You didn’t waste a second of it. That’s why you got married so young.”

  Mom smiles.

  “You’re right. I didn’t waste a second of it. And you shouldn’t either.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Brandon

  Pale Kentucky moonlight streams through my windshield. Stifling a yawn, I crank up the radio, hoping the music will keep me awake.

  Just a few miles to go, Brandon.

  It’s been a long day. Up at four thirty for my final PT and breakfast with my unit and then hours of out-processing leading up to AIT graduation. My certificates lay in the seat beside me, ready to be framed.

  Christian had already told me that Dr. Edsall didn’t approve of another long trip for Dad, so I let everyone off the hook and told them to skip this graduation. I didn’t mind. It was a short ceremony, and I planned to head home immediately after anyway. I think Christian was secretly relieved. Steph, however, took some convincing, so we compromised.

  I told her she could be waiting for me tonight.

  In my bed. Where she belongs.

  With that thought in mind, I press my foot a little harder against the gas.

  A gentle rain begins to fall as I pull into the driveway. After grabbing my gear out of the cab, I walk quietly into the house, hoping Duke is fast asleep somewhere. I hope everyone’s asleep. It’s past midnight, and I don’t need a welcoming committee. I’m content with seeing them all in the morning.

  Well, almost all of them.

  After taking a quick peek in on Dad to make sure he’s sleeping okay, I head up to my room. It’s absolutely ridiculous that I’m nervous, but I am. Twelve weeks isn’t an eternity, but it’s a long time to go without kissing the woman you love.

  If I have it my way, after tonight, I’ll be able to kiss her anytime I want.

  Taking a deep breath, I open the door and step inside the room. It’s dark, so it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. Then they do, and I see her lying on my bed, wrapped
in my blanket. Her eyes are closed, and I can hear her quiet snores.

  Carefully, I place my gear on the floor and sit down at my desk to unlace my boots. I should probably shower, but I’m too excited and too anxious to hold her in my arms.

  As I climb into bed, a bolt of lightning flashes in the window, illuminating her face. Her brown hair is longer now, and it fans out across the pillow.

  I want to watch her sleep. I want to kiss her awake.

  Suddenly, thunder rumbles overhead, and my choice is made for me.

  Steph’s eyes flash open.

  “Hey, you.”

  She blinks a few times before her face breaks out into the most beautiful grin I’ve ever seen. With a sweet laugh, she grabs me, pulling me down on top of her.

  For the first few minutes, all we do is stare at each other. Maybe because we can. Or maybe because we’re looking for little things we might have missed while we were apart.

  “Your hair’s longer,” I whisper.

  “Yours is shorter. I didn’t think that was possible.”

  She sighs softly, her eyes flickering to my mouth.

  “So, Lieutenant Walker, are you gonna kiss me or not?”

  “I’m thinking about it.”

  “You think too much.”

  She rolls us over, and we both groan as she covers her body with mine. Steph kisses me, and from the very second her lips touch mine, with all their frantic urgency and sweet warmth, I know in my heart that something has changed. Our kisses have changed. Our touch has changed. We’ve changed. There’s a craving there. A deep and powerful yearning that wasn’t there before and can only come from spending time apart. It makes us kiss one another a little slower, hold each other a little tighter, and love each other a little more than we did just twelve weeks ago.

  Steph suddenly lifts herself up, straddling my waist and sliding her hands along my stomach. Another flash of lightning in the sky shows me what she’s wearing.

  It’s my Princess Bride T-shirt, the same one I was wearing the day we met in class.

  “Nice shirt.”

  “Thanks. I stole it from your closet before you left. I’ve slept in it every night.”

  “Thief.”

  With a sly grin, she leans down and kisses me again.

  “You’ve stolen my clothes. Stolen my heart.”

  Steph smiles against my lips.

  “There’s something else I want to steal,” she whispers.

  I slide my hands along her back, pulling her closer to me as I raise myself up. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she melts against me when I bury my face against her neck.

  “I’ll give you anything, Steph.”

  “Anything?”

  ”Whatever you want.”

  I lift my head and find her eyes, deep and dark and full of tears. All of her earlier playfulness is gone as she places her palm against my cheek.

  “I want your last name.”

  My mouth falls open, but words fail me.

  “Before you say yes or no, I want to tell you all the reasons why I want your last name. I made a list.”

  “You made a list?”

  “Of course, I make a list for everything. But this list is not on paper. It’s . . . in my head. And in my heart.”

  She made a list. She wants my last name.

  “I’ve thought about it a lot over the past three months,” she says softly. “I love you, Brandon. You love me, and you loved me even when I was pretty unlovable. I was judgmental and bitter and way too focused on the future instead of living for today. You love my cat, and my cat loves you, which is a miracle because until you came along, she didn’t love anybody but me. You and your family have taught me that life is short, and you have to find joy whenever and wherever you can. I missed you. I don’t think I realized until I woke up and saw you there just how much I missed you. And I don’t want to miss you anymore.”

  I pull her close. “Babe—”

  Fresh tears spill down her cheeks. “And I know there may come a time when you’re stationed somewhere I can’t be, but if I can be . . . that’s where I want to be. And I don’t want to live in an apartment by myself while you sleep in the barracks. I want to be with you. In your arms. In your bed. Right where I belong.”

  She finally takes a breath, and I kiss the corners of her mouth.

  “Stephanie James, are you proposing to me?”

  “That depends.”

  “On?”

  “Are you saying yes?”

  I smile into her shining eyes. I don’t tell her she’s ruined my surprise. I don’t mention that I already called her mom, asking for her blessing. And I definitely don’t tell her about the ring that’s in my bag.

  Instead, I cradle her beautiful face in my hands and whisper one word.

  “Yes.”

  EPILOGUE

  Stephanie

  Six Months Later

  Sundays are my favorite day of the week. No five o’clock workouts. No papers to grade. No projects to design or lesson plans to create. It’s the one day of the week we can spend together without interruption, giving us the chance to work on this newlywed thing.

  We’re getting pretty good at it.

  Wrapping my arms around his neck, I straddle his waist as he lifts himself, brushing his chest against my bare skin. The sensation sends a spike of tingles up my spine, causing my body to bow. Brandon quickens his pace and tightens his hold on my bottom, anchoring me to his body. He whispers my name against my throat, and my eyes flutter closed because every single touch is electric against my flesh.

  Will it always be like this?

  It wasn’t, not in the beginning. Our wedding night wasn’t like this. I was inexperienced and clueless. He was nervous and needy. I’d begged him to let us practice before the honeymoon, but I was a virgin, and he was determined to keep me that way until our wedding night.

  Needless to say, it was a short engagement.

  A week, to be exact.

  Despite our mutual fumbling, we figured it out pretty quickly. Once that ring was on my finger, Brandon was all about practicing. Thanks to our practice sessions, I know how much my husband loves it when I rake my fingernails down his back. And he’s learned that he can make my entire body tremble just by sliding his tongue along the column of my throat.

  We practice a lot.

  Suddenly, he scrapes his teeth across my skin. My entire body convulses, and I shatter into a million pieces. Brandon groans, burying his face against my neck and holding me tight as he falls over the edge with me.

  Oh, how I love Sundays.

  I collapse against him, breathless and exhausted, while Brandon pulls the blanket around us. We must disturb the cat, because she chooses that moment to finally jump down from the bed.

  “Oh, now you move,” Brandon mutters.

  Bangle meows loudly in response and trots out of the bedroom.

  I laugh and snuggle against his chest. “She does it on purpose.”

  “That’s a sick cat you have, Mrs. Walker.”

  “What’s mine is ours, Lieutenant Walker.”

  Ours.

  It’s a beautiful word, filled with the promise that no matter what happens, he is mine. And I’m his.

  And this is our house.

  It’s small, with two bedrooms and a garage, but there’s a big backyard for Duke. Base housing wasn’t available, and the wait list was ridiculous, so we found a place to rent off base that’s close to Fort Gordon and a short commute to my school. For now, I’m teaching eighth grade English at one of the local junior highs while the teacher is on maternity leave. I’m hoping this job will lead to a permanent one in the school system next year.

  Brandon enjoys his work at the base. He tries to explain his designs and upgrades, but it’s all over my head. Right now, he’s working on an automated entry system that will improve security on base. The best part is that Brandon gets to come home to me every night, and I get to cook breakfast for my husband each morning.

  I
’m getting better in the kitchen. Tessa sent a bunch of bakeware and cookbooks as a wedding gift. She and Xavier, and our gorgeous nephew Alexander, are still living in Chicago. Xavier finally convinced her to marry him, and they have an apartment in the city close to her aunt’s restaurant. Tessa’s working there as an apprentice chef and Xavier is an assistant basketball coach at one of the high schools.

  As for the rest of our family, my mom is still living in Indianapolis but threatens to move to Georgia every day. I’m pretty sure the only thing keeping her in the Hoosier state is her new boyfriend, an attorney named Alan. I’ve only met him once, and I don’t really know how serious they are, but for the first time in twenty-three years, my mom isn’t lonely. When we’re on the phone, she talks about him constantly. I can tell she’s happy, and that’s all that matters to me.

  One week after I proposed, Brandon and I were married on the dock of his family’s pond. It was just a small ceremony, with his family and my mom. There were no bridesmaids or big poofy dresses. Just me in a white sundress, with my dad’s dog tags around my neck, and Brandon in his Class A uniform.

  Lord, I love his uniform.

  Our wedding day was beautiful and bittersweet. We didn’t know it at the time, but that day would be the last we’d spend with Mr. Walker in the comfort of his home. Brandon’s dad now lives in an assisted-living facility in the nearby city of Pikeville. He will remain there for the rest of his life. It was a hard decision, filled with a lot of guilt and plenty of tears, but his condition had finally declined to the point that Christian just couldn’t take care of him on her own. Now, Mr. Walker truly has twenty-four hour care. Our last visit was especially heartbreaking because he didn’t recognize any of us. Dr. Edsall had warned us it would happen eventually, but Brandon still took it especially hard. The next day, I drove us back to Georgia, and Brandon didn’t say a word all the way home. It’s hard, but knowing Mr. Walker has the care he needs, and that Christian can rest a little easier at night, assures all of us that we made the right decision.

  Being an Army wife has definitely been a life-changing experience. There’s really no other way to describe it. I’m still learning my way around base. Brandon and I shop at the commissary and check out books from the base library. Brandon’s made some friends, and luckily for me, they have sweet wives who have welcomed me with open arms.