Stranded with the Sergeant

by Cathie Linz

  It wasn’t logical. It wasn’t acceptable. The Marine Corps values all revolved around honor, courage and commitment.

  He had to regain those things or die trying.

  Joe’s eyes were gritty from three nights of little sleep, but he refused to surrender to exhaustion…and the ensuing nightmares. He’d just close his eyes for a minute, take a ten-minute catnap and wake up refreshed and battle-ready. He’d done it before, he could do that again.

  But the dreams came even in that brief period. Or were they hallucinations?

  A child by a lake. A scream. Tears. Pulled under by terror until he was drowning in it.

  Joe jerked awake. There was an unaccustomed moisture on his face. Lifting trembling fingers, he angrily wiped his cheek.

  What the hell was happening to him? Was he losing his mind? He was definitely losing his grip.

  Marines must not fail. They also never cried. No matter what.

  Prudence stared out the tiny window above the rustic sink and wished she was a million miles away. All morning she’d been sidestepping Joe, trying to ignore his presence. The snow had stopped falling two hours and twenty minutes ago, she knew because she’d checked her watch every ten minutes since she’d awakened shortly after dawn.

  Joe was up before the sun. At first she thought he’d left her at the cabin and walked down the mountainside himself, determined to get away from her at all costs. But then he’d come in from outside, his cheeks red from the cold, his arms filled with more firewood.

  She’d tried telling herself she wasn’t relieved to see him. She’d lied. The sight of him made her knees go weak. He’d looked tired. Tiny lines of exhaustion fanned out from his blue eyes. He’d swapped the khaki-green T-shirt he’d worn under his utility shirt for a gray one.

  From that moment until now they’d spoken maybe a dozen words, and most of those had been of the one-syllable variety. “Morning.” “Coffee?” “No, thank you.”

  That was about the extent of their conversation. No reference to the passion they’d shared last night. No mention of the fact that they’d almost made love. No acknowledgment whatsoever that any kind of personal relationship existed between them.

  But ignoring it didn’t make it go away. She was still as aware of him as she’d ever been. In fact, she was even more aware of him now, because she was trying so hard to ignore him. And because she knew what it was like to have him hold her in his arms and kiss her as if she were the only woman on the planet who could touch his heart.

  Prudence checked her watch again. Five more minutes had passed. Weak sunshine was breaking through the departing clouds. Which meant that the rescue helicopter should be coming soon.

  She’d tidied the cabin as best she could. The metal tub she’d used for her bath last night was once again resting against the far wall. Her sleeping bag was rolled and tied to her backpack. She’d made a list of the food they’d used and intended to replace it upon her return home so that the next time someone needed to use this cabin in an emergency, they’d have what they needed.

  But Prudence didn’t have what she needed. She didn’t have Joe smiling at her, teasing her, even talking to her. But he was looking at her. Oh, not openly. But even if her back was turned to him, she could tell when his eyes strayed over to her during his brief sojourns into the cabin. Most of the time he spent outside, watching for the helicopter. But when he did come inside, he watched her. Covertly. She could feel his gaze on her. The skin on the back of her neck actually prickled.

  She’d gathered her hair into a ponytail and had added a touch of lip gloss in a foolish attempt to keep her spirits up. It hadn’t worked.

  Joe was watching her now. She could feel his presence a few yards behind her. She turned to confront him, but he was already looking away, intent on making sure the cabin was in order.

  “Well, does it pass the inspection?” she said, tired of the silence between them.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Her head tilted back as if he’d slapped her. So it was back to ma’am now, was it?

  Narrowing her eyes at him, she refused to let her emotions show. At least not the sappy emotions. The man had told her himself that it was fine to be aggravated with him. Fine. She was plenty aggravated with him right now.

  For the first time since she’d woken that morning his eyes met hers. She didn’t look away and neither did he. He had a Marine’s talent for disguising his emotions.

  Which is why the small flare of passion in his gaze caught her by surprise. Her lips parted and she was about to speak when the sound of an approaching helicopter sliced through the thick silence.

  Joe completed a perfect about-face and marched out of the cabin, snagging his pack in one hand and her heavy backpack in the other on the way out.

  As Prudence turned to make sure the fire was doused with water, she noted that Joe had tried to pour cold water on the passion they’d shared last night. But unlike the fire, whose embers dutifully died out, the desire she felt for him showed no signs of abating.

  Stupid as it sounded, she was actually a bit sad to be leaving the cabin. They’d shared something special here. But it had melted as quickly as the snow beneath the warm spring sunshine outside, leaving a messy quagmire behind. It would be so easy to get bogged down in the mud, to get stuck in the emotional mayhem. But she wouldn’t let herself take that path. Stepping outside, she maneuvered around the icy patches, avoided the soggy ground and headed toward the waiting helicopter.

  Joe had returned to the cabin to give it a final check. No way would he delegate the responsibility. He’d shoulder it all himself.

  The young blond copilot was standing by the helicopter door, flashing her a beachboy’s white smile. She welcomed his attention. Here was one man who didn’t think of her as Sergeant Major Martin’s daughter.

  “Sorry for the delay in getting up here.” If he called her ma’am, she’d have to hit him, rescue or no rescue. Instead he grinned at her and added, “I hope you won’t hold that against me, Prudence.”

  She smiled and flashed him a flirtatious look. “On the contrary, Bob.” She read his name from his flight suit. Unlike the military, here first names were used. “I’m forever in your debt.”

  “Let me give you a hand there,” Bob said, gallantly assisting her into one of the passenger seats of the helicopter.

  When Joe hopped aboard a short time later, Prudence was busy silently congratulating herself on how she’d kept her dignity, kept her distance with Joe.

  Then she saw his face. It was as gray as the T-shirt he’d been wearing under his utilities. Was he remembering the helicopter that had crashed before his very eyes?

  Without thinking, Prudence placed her hand on his arm in a comforting gesture. Big mistake. She should have known better. Joe yanked his arm away from her, his blue eyes fierce in their resolve to keep her away from him.

  Prudence had to blink away the tears as she turned to stare blindly out the window. It should not have hurt as much as it did. He’d made it plain last night that he wanted nothing to do with her. Yet still she kept after him. What was wrong with her? Was she that desperate?

  Still, how could she turn her back on Flyboy, the young boy who’d helped her in her time of need? How could she deny the bond she’d felt with him from the very beginning?

  Maybe in time she’d learn. Right now it was the only hope she could hold on to.

  Joe gritted his teeth and hung on to his control. When Prudence had touched him, he’d almost lost it. He’d seen the compassion in her eyes. Was she feeling sorry for him?

  He had no doubt he was a sorry sight. A coward wearing a warrior’s uniform. He should never have spilled his guts to her. All she had to do was let her daddy know that Joe was a few pancakes short of a stack and bingo, Joe would be out of the Marines so fast his head would spin. Any whiff of emotional problems or instability would go on his record and hurt his career as a Marine.

  Would she do something like that? Earlier this morning she’d
looked mad enough to kick his behind herself, without letting her father do it for her.

  He clenched his jaw as the possibilities continued to taunt him. She could tell her father so many things—not the least of which was that Joe had made out with her. The fact that he’d befriended her as a kid so long ago wouldn’t carry any weight with her father. Joe should have resisted her charms, should have been strong. Should have, should have, should have.

  He closed his eyes against the all-too-familiar refrain pounding in his head, matching the whirring whack-whack of the helicopter’s rotor blades as they came in for a landing.

  Opening his eyes and looking down, he recognized his commanding officer in the small crowd gathered.

  Joe had no memory of actually deplaning. He was running on autopilot, watching as if from afar as Sergeant Major Martin hugged Prudence before turning to face Joe.

  Saluting his commanding officer, Joe braced himself, expecting to be held accountable for getting them all snowbound. He’d been responsible for the group. No excuses, no exceptions.

  Instead Sergeant Major Martin said, “Good job, Sergeant Wilder.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Joe’s voice was military precise, but inside he felt as if a rug had just been yanked out from under him. He’d expected his commanding officer to chew him out and then forbid him from ever seeing his precious daughter again.

  But in the end it was Joe who forbade himself from seeing Prudence as he walked away from her without a backward glance.

  “Your mother was worried about you, but I told her that Sergeant Wilder would take good care of you,” her father said as he pulled up in front of Prudence’s rental house. “She’s cooking up a storm inside. Made your favorite meal. Beef Stroganoff with all the trimmings. We figured you’d insist on coming here instead of going home with us tonight.”

  “This is my home,” Prudence said as she got out of her father’s sport utility vehicle. The house was a small frame cookie-cutter design that would have looked like its anonymous neighbors were it not for the special touches Prudence had added—the colorful butterfly wind sock, the cheerful terra cotta pots brimming with red geraniums, the wicker rocking chair she’d found at a local flea market and repainted herself.

  The minute Prudence saw her mom puttering in the kitchen, she felt tears come to her eyes. Ellen Martin hadn’t changed her pert short haircut in the past decade. A bit shorter than Prudence, she shared her daughter’s brown eyes and giving nature. The older woman just looked so heartwarming, so real and so like…mom. And despite the fact that Prudence was a full-grown woman, in that moment her mom represented everything that was true and safe in the world.

  Having just talked about the car accident with Joe had brought all those memories tumbling back—the blind fear, the guilt, the relief, the undying gratitude.

  Prudence heard Joe’s voice in her head. Your situation isn’t the same. You mother didn’t die. She recovered.

  A minute later Prudence was in her mom’s arms.

  “Ah, well.” Her father cleared his throat as he hastily backed out of the kitchen. “I’ll just leave you two girls alone and wrap some things up back at the base. I’ll be back in half an hour,” he said, showing a typical Marine’s aversion to tears and emotional scenes as he made his escape.

  “I didn’t go to the airport to meet you because I knew I’d turn into a watering can and get all weepy,” her mom, Ellen, told her with a rueful laugh and a swipe at her damp cheeks.

  “I would have started crying, too,” Prudence agreed, stepping back to wipe her own cheeks with a paper towel she grabbed from the hanger near the sink.

  “I could have told your father I was just cutting onions for the Stroganoff and that’s why I had tears in my eyes, but that would have been a lie. I’m just so glad to see you!” Ellen grabbed Prudence and hugged her again.

  “I’m glad to see you, too, Mom.” Prudence fiercely returned the hug. “Real glad.”

  “So tell me everything that happened,” Ellen said, tugging a white bar stool closer so that Prudence could sit beside her as she sat on another stool and chopped fresh mushrooms.

  Looking around the kitchen, Prudence felt a sense of unreality.

  Only an hour earlier, she’d still been snowbound with Joe. Yet here she was, surrounded by familiar things—the red rooster canister set, the fresh chives growing on her windowsill, the black-and-white ceramic tiles that were original to the house when it was first built back in the 1950s. When she’d first moved into the house those tiles had driven her crazy. Just like when she’d first met Joe he’d driven her crazy. Then she’d grown to love the tiles for their uniqueness, just as she’d grown to love Joe.

  Panic hit her. She loved Joe? Where had that come from? Looking around her kitchen wasn’t supposed to bring a moment of epiphany like that. No, momentous discoveries like that didn’t happen during nondescript moments like this. Looking at her kitchen tiles wouldn’t make her realize she loved Joe.

  Her knees were shaky as she sank onto the bar stool.

  Shoot. She loved Joe. She was definitely in deep trouble here.

  Now what was she supposed to do? The man had walked away from her without a backward glance.

  Unrequited love really stinks, she decided morosely, reaching for a cookie stashed in the largest of the rooster canisters.

  “Prudence?” her mom asked, a frown of concern on her forehead.

  “Do you remember that summer when we were in Okinawa when I was a kid?” Prudence said as she munched on her Oreo.

  Ellen blinked at the non sequitur before nodding. “Sure, I remember. You were not a happy camper at the time.”

  “I don’t know if I mentioned it then, but there was a kid that made the summer bearable for me. That kid was Sergeant Joe Wilder.”

  “Is that why your dad arranged for him to accompany you up into the mountains?”

  Prudence was surprised by her mother’s question. “No. Sergeant Brown was supposed to come with us but he had to have emergency surgery so Joe was called in to take his place.”

  “He was?” Ellen blinked and then frowned. “I had no idea. I wish your father had told me that Sergeant Brown was in the hospital. I would have gone to visit him.” She dumped the chopped mushrooms into a hot skillet. “I’ll have to drop by sick bay tomorrow and see how he’s doing. But getting back to you and this Joe, did you recognize him right away?”

  “No. And he didn’t recognize me, either. In fact, when we first met at the base he thought that I was a sixth-grader. I mean, he’d been told to give his commanding officer’s daughter’s sixth-grade class a tour of the base so he naturally thought that I was…”

  “That you were what?” Ellen promoted.

  “One of the students.” Prudence replied.

  “The scuttlebutt around the base is that he’s something of a ladies’ man and that he’s into some pretty risky things like bungee-jumping,” Ellen noted with concern as she checked on the noodles before turning down the heat a bit. “Your father wasn’t pleased about that. But he didn’t seemed concerned that this Joe would take risks with you or the kids, so maybe the gossip isn’t true.”

  “What gossip?”

  Ellen wiped her hands on a kitchen towel before replying. “That Wilder isn’t just his name, it’s his lifestyle. He doesn’t appear to have done anything inappropriate with you, though.”

  Prudence wondered how inappropriate her mother would think it was to have almost made love with Joe last night. To Prudence it had seemed the most appropriate thing in the world at the time. Because she was in love with Joe.

  The question was, what was she going to do about it?

  Over the next few days Joe made the unwelcome discovery that out of sight did not mean out of mind where Prudence was concerned. Everything reminded him of her. He’d see the night sky and remember her perched on that boulder, her head turned as she looked at him. He’d drink a cold beer and remember how he’d likened her appeal to that of a cold beer after a
long march when he’d first met her.

  The thing was, he hadn’t just met her a few days ago. They’d really first met when they’d been kids, when she’d been Princess Pug and he’d been Flyboy.

  Over the years Joe had come to believe that Fate did work in mysterious ways. But that didn’t stop him from trying to understand it. Why had Prudence reappeared in his life now, after all this time? Why couldn’t he believe her when she said he wasn’t to blame for the accident? How could he know that in his mind yet not accept it in his heart?

  He went about his duties like a good Marine. He was temporarily stationed at Camp Lejeune until his orders came through for his next tour of duty. He was up for a promotion and there had been talk of sending him on a recruiting rotation. The Corps sent its best to bring in the next generation of Marines.

  It wasn’t an assignment Joe was looking forward to. But then it was almost impossible to advance within the Corps without doing a tour of duty as a recruiting officer. So he’d do his duty. And then he’d move on, as he always did.

  Just as he’d done his duty by accompanying Prudence and the kids…very short recruits…on that trip into the mountains.

  His commanding officer had made no mention of the fact that Joe had kissed Prudence, nor had he commented on Joe’s possible instability—which had to mean that Prudence hadn’t said anything to her father about either potentially explosive situation.

  Which wasn’t to say that she wouldn’t blab something at some point in the future. A part of his heart told him that she wasn’t the type to betray a confidence, but another part of him berated his own stupidity in allowing himself to become this vulnerable.

  Joe welcomed his weekend liberty and the chance to get off the base. He was living in the barracks, but it was nice to get away for a while—away from the memory of Prudence and the heat of her kisses.

  The nightmares had returned every night, repeating the disturbing dream he’d had in the cabin that last night. Water. A child. Screams. Terror. The suffocating feeling of drowning.

  He told himself it must be an aftereffect of being responsible for the very short recruits last weekend. Well, this weekend was going to be different.