by Gemma Hart
The truck dipped as Jason hopped up as well. Dangling their legs off the edge, Kat pulled out two paper cup from the bag and poured them each a nice hot cup of coffee. Summer was just ending and fall’s crisp winds were starting to pick up.
Ripping the bag to make a placemat, Kat pulled out two plastic cartons each carrying a slice of blueberry pie. She gave Jason a plastic fork.
“One for you and one for me,” she said.
Jason stared at his slice before taking a forkful. He made a rumble of deep appreciation. “This is damn good,” he said finally. He dug in again for another heaping forkful.
Kat smiled happily. “Good,” she said, taking her own bite. “I made it.”
Jason’s eyes widened. “You made this?” he asked incredulously, looking at the pie again as if it were a work of art.
Kat laughed. “I make all the baked goods for Doughy Pop’s.”
“You’re good then,” he said with definite certainty as he took another big bite. “Really good.”
Kat was pleased. “Eventually, I hope to add more to the baked goods section for Pop’s. To the whole menu really,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee. She looked over and was surprised to see clear green eyes focused on her.
Jason was listening with rapt attention. And with the sharp clean expression on his face, she could tell he not just politely interested; he was completely engaged.
“You want to make Pop’s into a bakery?” he asked.
Kat shook her head. “No, no. But I can see so much potential here. So many people are searching online for little getaways now. Places that are authentic and homey for small vacations. I think Peytonville is a perfect place for a romantic and sweet vacation.” Her animation grew as she talked, her love for her dreams clearly evident.
“Our town has so much great character and history and with a little polishing up, it can be something really special. And I think Pop’s can help lead the way. Food is such a big draw for most people. They love finding those hidden gem restaurants. Uncle Do is a little old fashioned but he’s told me that some day, he’ll leave the place to me. And once he does, I want to really put it on the map.” Kat’s eyes sparkled in the night sky with her excitement.
Jason nodded slowly, as if thinking about all the things that would be needed to accomplish such a task. “People like homey things. I think people like Pop’s because it’s so comfortable. It’d be a shame to change too much of that.”
Kat was surprised he had caught on so quickly to Doughy Pop’s charms. She shook her head. “Doughy Pop’s is an institution around here and I would never want to damage that. But just a few things like sprucing up the interior, adding a few new things to the menu can make a huge difference. People come for the food but I’m sure they’d stay for the town.”
Jason suddenly grinned down at her. The glow of his grin warmed Kat more thoroughly than any cup of coffee could.
“I think you could knock down the walls of Jericho to give your town a fighting chance at the big times,” he said warmly.
His words felt like a vat of warm, gooey caramel had been poured down her back. A beautiful glow overtook her body as she felt his genuine sincerity blanket her. Kat almost felt giddy.
She had always been so busy growing up. She had helped her mom take care of the boys when she had been younger. With no dad around and Uncle Do always working, Kat had always been the de facto caretaker in the house. Then after mom passed, she had not only become caretaker to her brothers but also housekeeper of their home.
And then her youngest brother, Dillon, got sick.
Suddenly, Kat found herself as a nurse as well as caretaker and housekeeper and waitress. College had been unthinkable and had never even been brought up. It was tacitly understood by all that Kat needed to stay. And she didn’t consider it such a terrible burden. She wanted to be there for her brothers and to give back to the uncle who had taken care of her for so many years.
But constantly moving and working, her dreams had only existed in her mind. She never seemed to have a moment or a person she could share these thoughts aloud with. Her brothers probably wouldn’t have had much interest and Uncle Do, although he loved her, wasn’t interested in anything beyond restaurant maintenance and the next day’s food shipments.
But Jason…he seemed different.
He was someone who not only seemed to enjoy talking to her but enjoyed listening to her secret hopes and fantasies. Kat had never realized how simple yet incredibly fulfilling it felt to have someone just simply listen and care.
With his dangerously attractive looks and his open ears that seemed constantly ready to listen, Jason seemed like the absolute perfect package. It was a wonder he wasn’t already snapped up by some girl.
But then again, she realized, so far they had only really been talking about her. She hardly knew anything about him except that he was in the military and from up north with not very good parents. But she had yet to hear him speak about his plans or his dreams. He knew she loved to bake and cook and yet she hardly knew what he did on his off times.
Feeling like she had been monopolizing the conversation, Kat leaned against on side of the truck bed, looking up at Jason.
“So,” she started, “what brings you to Peytonville? It’s quite a far drive from Fayetteville.”
Jason’s eyes, which had been warm and engaged when listening to her plans to polish up Doughy Pop’s, suddenly became hooded and dark. His lips tightened and Kat could see him slightly grind his jaws.
“I didn’t come from Fayetteville,” he said lowly, leaning against the opposite side of the truck bed. “I was coming from Arlington.”
Kat froze. “Oh,” she said.
Arlington, Virginia. There could be many reasons why one could be in Arlington but looking at the soldier in front of her, she knew he had only had one reason.
One very sad and tragic reason.
“Was it someone close?” she asked softly.
Jason nodded. He then looked away and gave a cold huff of a laugh. “They were all someone close,” he said quietly. He shook his head. “Never thought I’d come to know the layout of a cemetery so well. But seven visits and you get pretty damn good.”
Kat’s eyes widened. Seven funerals he’d had to attend at Arlington? That was mindboggling. She could only imagine the devastation of seeing your comrade in arms being buried. But to see it seven times over? It was brutally unimaginable.
“I had some time off and I couldn’t go straight back to Bragg. I just couldn’t,” Jason said, his face shadowed in more than just the night’s darkness. “So I drove a bit, taking the long way around. And I ended up here. In Peytonville.”
There was a quiet that descended between them as each collected their own thoughts. The soft winds of summer blew by, letting them know fall was right around the corner. Crickets chirped and their music seemed to hang in the slightly humid air.
“Do you mind if we walk a bit?” Jason asked suddenly. He seemed antsy after talking.
Kat nodded.
Again, after jumping off the truck, he helped her down. She felt that tickle in her belly again at having his strength wrap around her.
Kat led them to the path around the library’s park. Together, they walked in companionable silence. It was peaceful and there was a sort of ease as they walked together. There was no pressure to talk. They simply enjoyed being together.
“Thank you for talking to me today,” Jason said after a few minutes of silent walking. He looked over at her with a look of wry bashfulness that made Kat’s heart flutter.
“I know that was a weird request and very out of the blue but I want you to know that…” he seemed to be searching for the right words “…that it helped. It’s helped me in more ways than you’ll know and I really appreciate it.”
Kat shook her head. “Please,” she said, smiling. “Don’t mention it. I’ve enjoyed talking with you just as much.”
And she really had.
Jason looked down the
path and then suddenly stopped. He looked up at the night sky. It was easier to see the stars out here than in the cities. There was much less light pollution in Peytonville.
“It was good to feel like I was part of a town today,” he said, smiling faintly. “Thanks to you, I almost felt like I was home.”
Kat smiled but unsurely. She could see the reluctance in his eyes and the pain that kept his smile from touching his heart.
He didn’t want to go.
He didn’t want to fight anymore.
And suddenly, Kat felt a fear that she would lose Jason. Not in the physical sense since clearly he would be leaving soon. But in every other sense that mattered, she felt she would lose him if he left again. And this man, this warm, handsome, attentive, funny man would be gone.
Leading by impulse, Kat suddenly grabbed his arm. Jason jerked in surprise at her touch.
Looking up at him with pleading eyes, she said, “It’s brave to ask for help when you need it.” Her eyes searched his, hoping to see her words sinking in. “It’s incredibly brave to recognize how human you are and to know when you need help. There is a strength in knowing when you need others. It means you know yourself.”
His eyes flickered at her words but instead of understanding, she saw a look of heavy darkness cross his eyes. It was a dark place he was going to and it was hard to keep any light of hope or positivity lit in such a place. He knew that.
But Kat was determined. He was someone special. She wouldn’t let the darkness take him. She wouldn’t!
“It’s brave,” she said again, emphasizing each word.
Jason nodded and gave her a fleeting smile. She knew he was pacifying her so she wouldn’t worry. He already considered himself lost.
Wrapping an around her, he gently pulled her in and hugged her. The warmth of his body enveloped her. Kat breathed in his spicy musk and sighed.
“Thank you,” he murmured into her hair. He held her close for another minute, both seemingly reluctant to let each other go.
Kat closed her eyes.
Time seemed to stand still.
It felt as if two floating survivors in a stormy ocean had finally met each other and were clinging to each other, happy to have found another survivor. Happy to have found someone who understood the rough waves and salty ocean stings.
The connection felt unreal and unearthly. It was sudden and deep as if she had fallen into a hole where she had thought would be solid ground. But it was a good fall. It was a fall into the arms of someone who cared, someone who understood loss and pain and responsibility.
Later, Jason insisted on driving Kat back home. Sitting in his truck in front of Uncle Do’s house, there was a quiet denial that filled the space between them. Neither wanted the other to leave.
Suddenly an idea struck her.
“Letters!” Kat suddenly said.
Jason looked at her quizzically. “Letters?”
“Could I write you letters? Where you’re going, will you be able to get letters?” Kat asked, her eyes bright with hope at the idea.
Jason’s face changed into surprised understanding. “You want to write me letters?” he asked incredulously.
Kat’s heart almost tore in half at how surprised he looked. “Of course,” she said smiling. “Not once tonight did I get to tell you where Uncle Do’s special tattoo is.” She winked.
Jason laughed. He shook his head. “You really are something else, sweetheart,” he said.
The quick endearment filled Kat’s heart with a rosy glow.
“Well?” she asked. “Could I?”
Jason thought about it. “Well, I’ve never received letters before,” he said slowly. But he reached over into the glove compartment and pulled out a notebook. He wrote down an address and ripped out the page for her. “But if you write here, it should get sent on to me.”
Kat took the paper and read the address. She tried to commit it to memory. Folding the paper carefully, she looked up at Jason. “I’ll write,” she promised solemnly.
Jason looked at her. His smoky green eyes searched her face. Gently, he brushed a hand across her cheek, his thumb swiping across her cheekbone. “Today is what I’m going to be thinking about for a long, long time,” he said quietly. And in his eyes, she could see the cloudless desert nights, the echoing shots of bullets firing overhead, the cries of anger and terror ringing clear in the hot sun. “Today felt like a miracle.”
Kat softly touched his hand. She couldn’t have thought of a better word.
Miracle.
What a miracle.
Chapter Four
Three months later
“You can’t be writing another one,” Malcolm said as he passed through the kitchen, scratching under his arms sleepily.
Kat barely raised her head as she continued writing her letter. “And you can’t be just waking up,” she said, mimicking his tone. “It’s nearly one in the afternoon.”
Malcolm shrugged as he pulled out the orange juice from the fridge and took a long gulp straight from the carton. Kat looked up and immediately made a sound of protest. Still gulping, he moved towards a kitchen cabinet to pull out a glass. By the time he poured the remaining juice in, there was only half a glass left.
“Honestly,” Kat muttered as she returned her focus back to her letter. “What is the point of buying cups and plates if you’re just going to eat like an animal?”
Malcolm burped and took a seat across from her on the kitchen table. “Ask myself that every day, sis,” he responded.
Kat shook her head, grinning. She then felt a shadow over her letter. Looking up, she saw Malcolm leaning over the table to read her writing. Quickly she jerked the letter closer to her, putting an arm around her work.
Malcolm gave an annoyed sigh. “What could be so private between you two?” he demanded. “You hardly even knew this man before you started writing to him!”
“None of your business,” Kat said defensively. Besides, she knew there was no way to explain the unexplainable. Even she had been unsure how her connection with Jason had happened. It had been sudden and it had been deep. When he had left mere hours after dropping her off at home, she had felt an acute ache of loss.
“And anyway,” Kat added, “I know more now. I know he’s with the 5th Group Special Forces. A green beret.”
Malcolm’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “He is? How do you know that?”
“His return address from his letters. They show his battalion and squadron information and I looked it up,” Kat said.
“Stalker,” Malcolm muttered quickly before furrowing his brow. “A green beret, huh? Those are like the soldiers’ soldier, aren’t they?”
“Some of the toughest sons of bitches around,” Uncle Doughy said as he came in from the backyard, covered in sweat. He had been working in his garden. Although the man looked like he would rather be taking a bat to some man’s poor kneecap, Uncle Doughy preferred growing tomatoes.
The diner was having ventilation problems and had to shut down for the day, giving the whole family an unexpected day off. Uncle Doughy had immediately headed for his garden and Malcolm had slept all morning.
“Who’s a tough son of a bitch?” a voice piped up from the hallway. Dillon entered the kitchen, just as sleepy looking as his brother had been.
Dillon was the youngest of the family at only eighteen. But he looked much older. With closely cropped blonde hair and his thin as rails body, he looked like an old man trapped in a teenager’s body. There were frown lines deeply etched into his face and his brow always seemed to be furrowed.
But that’s probably what anyone would look like if they had cancer.
Dillon had been diagnosed at thirteen and had been in treatment for nearly two years before claiming remission. He still went in for regular check ups but was now considered healthy. If he made it to year five in remission, he would be considered cured.
Kat looked over her younger brother carefully. There were dark circles under his eyes. “Did you not
get any sleep, Dill?” she asked casually. Dillon hated being mothered and monitored and Kat was careful to always keep her tone light. But after years of treatment, Dillon’s immune system wasn’t as strong as everybody else’s. Kat was always worried when winter came around.
Dillon shrugged and went over to the fridge where Uncle Doughy was frowning at the empty juice carton. “Who could sleep with Mr. Trumpet Nose over there honking his horn the whole night?” he said. But before Malcolm could protest this accusation, Dillon looked at his uncle. “Who’s the toughest son of bitch around?”
