Meagan's Marine (Halos & Horns)

by Lori Leger

  “What’s wrong, Mitch? Are you worried that rum’s got too much bite?”

  He laughed. “It does have a gator on the bottle, but no. I may have a shot or two, but I like my beer.”

  She nodded and handed him a beer. “What’s the deal with the cowboy sniffing around Haley? He doesn’t look her type.”

  Mitch leaned against the wall to watch the guy in question brazenly stare at a gorgeous blonde-haired woman making her way into the women’s restroom. “He isn’t, but they have the rodeo thing in common and she invited him to hang with her tonight.”

  Meagan frowned and sucked in her breath. “Oh damn, that’s gonna break that big ole heart of his.”

  “Of who’s?”

  “His.” Meagan’s gaze landed on the tall Marine walking in their direction. “He’s been bugging me for the last hour to let him know when y’all got here.”

  Mitch grinned as he shook Ben’s hand. “Hell, yeah, just what that asshole needs—a little friendly competition.”

  Ben’s brow furrowed. “Which asshole?”

  “That one right over there.” Mitch used his longneck beer bottle to point at what he considered an unwelcomed interloper. “She met up with him at the arena this afternoon. I think they used to date once upon a time and he’s hoping to date her again.” He sipped from his beer and shook his head. “Except every damn time she turns her back he’s trying to pick up some other chick.” He sent Ben a meaningful gaze. “I don’t like him, and Tex has been ready to kick his ass since he showed himself.”

  “Maybe I should just leave,” Ben said. “I don’t want to stir things up.”

  “Trust me, as many times as I heard that girl mention your name today, she’d want you to stay. I’m looking forward to seeing you stir up a little shit with that jerk. Look, there he goes again,” he said, as Trevor ogled another woman behind Haley’s back.

  Ben gave a snort of disgust. “What an ass-wipe.”

  “See what I mean? I think you sh—”

  “Excuse me.” Wearing a determined look on his face, Ben walked toward the corner table.

  “Go get ‘em, Jarhead!” Meagan called softly as Mitch swung around to face her.

  “Jarhead? Ben is a Marine, too?”

  “Well, yeah. Didn’t you know?”

  He stared after him, chuckling as Trevor got his first look at the competition. “He never said a word. Is he still active?”

  “Yep, he’s pre-deployment…not sure where he’s going.”

  Remembering Haley’s comment about not dating a military man, Mitch sipped at his beer and headed back to the group. “This should be interesting.”

  By the time he got there, Haley had just seen Ben.

  “Hey! I thought you weren’t going to be able to make it tonight,” she said, her face lighting up at the sight of him.

  “I didn’t know for sure until this afternoon. I cancelled some plans to be here.”

  “Did you really?” She laid a hand on her chest. “I’m honored. Now, come shoot a round of birthday rum with me.”

  He grinned, bearing a beautiful smile that had surely cost his parents a small fortune in dentist visits. “I’ve already had a couple of beers, so I’ll pass on the rum. But how about if I watch you shoot and offer to hold your head when you’re hugging the porcelain throne later?”

  Trevor stepped up and threw an arm possessively around Haley’s shoulder. “Uh, excuse me, but that’s what I’m here for, buddy.”

  Haley jarred Trevor in the side with her elbow. “Don’t be a jerk, Trev. You don’t own me. Trevor Jameson, this is Ben Bonin. I met him here last night. I ended up dancing with a human octopus and he rescued me.” She left them to pour herself another shot of rum.

  “So, you rescued the lady from a hands-on kinda guy, huh?” Trevor drawled. “Well, I’ve known Haley nearly all my life, Ben Boner.” He extended his arm for a handshake. “There’s nothing for you here, so you can run along now.”

  Mitch held his breath to see if Ben would take the not so subtle insult or do something about it. It turned out that the younger Marine could be just as effective without being an asshole.

  Ben took the mouthy cowboy’s hand and spoke without cracking a smile. “The name’s B-O-N-I-N, and pronounced Bon-ay—you know, like the letter “A”. Then again, I’m bettin’ you didn’t see too many of those in school, did you, Trevor? You’ve got “D” for dumb-ass written all over you.”

  Trevor’s face sobered as he practically sunk to his knees during the handshake and monologue. When Ben finally released his hand, Trevor flexed it as though trying to get his blood circulating again.

  Haley returned from their table, totally unaware of the overflow of male testosterone crackling in the air. “Here’s to being twenty-one!”

  Mitch clinked his beer bottle with her shot glass. “And all the fireworks that go along with it.”

  “Here’s to free booze!” Trevor brayed, reaching for a shot glass, only to have Tex pull it out of his reach while sending him a scorching look.

  Ben clicked his own beer bottle to Haley’s shot glass brimming with the clear liquid. “Here’s to you, Haley. I hope you have nothing but great birthdays from here on out.”

  ****

  Anything involving horses, cowboys and competitions equated to large crowds for the local bars and dance clubs. Red’s always had admirable business, but his excellent selection of country bands and huge dance floors always made it a favorite with people in town for the rodeo. The last two work nights had nearly driven Meagan to exhaustion with the non-stop bustle of activity. That, coupled with events at home, and a severe inability to sleep the night through, had her feeling edgy and irritable. The guy across from her wasn’t helping matters.

  “Come on, honey. Do some of those fancy bartender tricks for me. I heard you’re the best in here.” He pulled a thick wallet from his pocket. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Sorry, sir. There’s no time for that tonight. Do you see the line of people behind you waiting for drinks?” She wiped up a minor beer spill with the dishcloth and met his gaze. “Now, is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “I don’t want anything else, and I don’t give a flying fu…”

  “Sir!” She cut off what was sure to be a tirade of foul language and unclipped her radio. “Come in Micky! This is Meagan and I need assistance at the bar, please.”

  “Aw shit! There wasn’t no need for that. Especially since you and me are from the same great state of Texas.” He leaned across the bar to get close to her. “We could spend some time together after you leave this place tonight.”

  “Sir, I told you, I’m too busy for this. Would you please move along? You aren’t the only person who’d like a beer tonight, you know.”

  A man spoke up from behind him. “Yeah dude, you’re holding up the line.”

  The cowboy, a good 6’3”, turned on the guy and leaned over to sneer in his face. “You might oughta get in another line, then buddy.”

  “Hey screw you, man. She said she didn’t have time for your bullshit. I see you have your drink, now move on so the rest of us can order.”

  Cowboy reached for the man’s shirt and Meagan reached for her radio again. “Micky, I’ve got trouble. Where are you?”

  The bouncer appeared to her left. “I’m right here, Meg.” Micky placed a beefy hand on cowboy’s shoulder. “Okay, man, let’s go. From the sound of it, you’ve had plenty of chances to back off.”

  Cowboy jerked out of Micky’s grip. “Get your hands off me, you sonovabitch! I don’t need to be lead anywhere like a prisoner. Let me at least take a swig of the beer I just paid for and I’ll walk out on my own.”

  Micky lifted both hands and nodded. “That’s fine, man.” He turned to Meagan. “I think it’ll be all right. He seems agreeable enou—”

  Meagan had witnessed enough fights in her earlier bartending years to recognize the distinctive thud of a beer bottle hitting a skull. However, witnessing the afore
mentioned skull, cracking open with an accompanying gush of blood was an entirely new experience. She screamed as Micky pitched forward onto the floor like a pine tree in a hurricane.

  She grabbed a clean dishcloth from the bar, dropped to her knees beside him and pressed it to his gaping wound, hoping to stem the flow of blood. “Somebody call 911!” she called out, even as a scuffle above caught her attention. She looked up just in time to see Mitch take the offending cowboy down in two swift moves. As he held him there, face down on the floor, arms locked in a tight grip, she wondered if there was anything Mitch couldn’t handle.

  Mitch met Meagan’s gaze and yelled over the din. “How bad?”

  “Bad enough. He’s bleedin’ like a stuck hog, poor thing. Did someone call for an ambulance?” she asked those nearest to her.

  Kelly Broussard, an acquaintance who occasionally visited the club, waved her phone.

  “They’re sending an ambulance now, as well as the cops, Meg,” she said.

  “Thanks, Kelly.” She increased the pressure on the wound and dropped her head, thinking they couldn’t get there fast enough. When Mick groaned and tried to sit up, she pushed him gently back down. “Don’t move, hon. You’re cut open pretty bad. This will definitely need stitches.”

  “Son of a bitch, that hurts,” he growled, flinching when she applied more pressure.

  “Don’t move, I said. Every time you do, I lose pressure on the wound and blood comes gushing out. You wanna bleed out on the floor of this club?”

  “No, but damn that stings. You’re pressing too hard, Meg!”

  “Yeah? Well the fact that you’re strong enough to whine like a big ole ta-ta tells me I must be doing something right. Otherwise, you’d be too weak to say a flippin’ word to me.”

  “Ta-ta? No fair, Meg. You know I can’t speak east Texas hick.”

  “I was trying to be nice, but since you won’t let me, it’s a tit, you crazy ass Cajun! I called you a big titty-baby. Now hold the hell still before I lose my supper all over the place.” Her comment, meant as a joke, was closer to the truth than she wanted to admit.

  She stayed there on her knees with him until another woman knelt beside her, holding out a hospital ID badge.

  “Hey, I just walked in and they told me what happened. I’m an emergency room nurse. You want me to take over? You’re looking a little green around the gills.”

  Meagan sighed in relief. “Dear God, please do! What’s your name, honey?”

  “April Fontenot, and I work at Lake Coburn Memorial.”

  Meagan waited for the EMT’s out front and cleared a path for them and the local cops when they arrived. Though the cops left immediately with their charge, it took a good fifteen minutes for the technicians to get Micky loaded into the ambulance. By then, Red McAllister, the club-owner, had arrived on the scene to check things out.

  “Two fights…two nights in a row.” Red shook his head. “You can always tell when the rodeo’s in town.”

  “I’m sorry, Red. I was trying to keep an eye on the situation. I called Micky immediately, but he was busy at the door. By the time he showed up, that guy was all riled up. He decked poor ole Mick when his back was turned. I feel so bad for him!”

  Red raised a hand. “This is not your fault Meagan. Like I said, when all these cowboys gather in one crowded space, sometimes their idea of letting off steam doesn’t jive with ours.” He gazed at the crowd, thinning now that the excitement was over, and then turned his attention on Meagan again. “And by the way, you did a great job tending to Micky. Thanks for jumping in there.”

  “Well, shoot, Red. I sure as heck couldn’t let a co-worker bleed to death while I stood around doing nothing.”

  Red gazed at the other workers, all gathered around, their faces a study in concern. “Let’s shut it down early for tonight. You’ll all get paid your regular hours plus what you would have made in tips.” He placed a friendly arm around Meagan’s shoulder and turned her toward the bar. “And you, my friend, need to get cleaned up now, because you’re covered in blood. I’ll throw in a little extra to replace your jeans. Grab another work T-shirt from the stash and trash that thing you’re wearing.”

  “Thanks boss. I appreciate that.”

  ****

  Mitch watched Meagan disappear into the ladies’ room then propped himself up against the door to wait for her.

  Red approached him scratching his chin. “Now I’ve got to find someone to replace Mick while he’s recuperating.” He looked around. “Who took down the cowboy after he blind-sided my bouncer with a beer bottle?”

  Mitch stepped forward. “I did.”

  Red’s face stretched in a broad grin. “Oh, yeah—this is perfect! Please tell me you need a job here. I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “It so happens I do, and I’d be glad to work for you.”

  Red reached out to shake his hand. “Done! You’re a lifesaver, Marine. Come on into my office and we’ll discuss the terms.”

  Mitch glanced at the door of the ladies’ room, wanting to be there when Meagan exited. Something about the look on her face told him she was running on pure adrenaline. He wanted to be around when her supply ran dry. “Can it wait, Red? I’m not very concerned about the details. After the way you and your family have cared for my sister and nieces, I figure I owe you.”

  Red waved off his comment. “You don’t owe me squat, but it can sure wait.” He pulled out his wallet and handed Mitch a business card. “Call me in the morning and I’ll get all your info. Thanks bro, you’re a life saver.”

  “No problem.”

  Meagan pushed through the door several minutes later, all traces of blood washed from her hands and arms, and covered in a new Red’s T-shirt. Her blood-spattered jeans still bore the evidence of Micky’s injury, and no doubt, she wanted to get rid of them. She approached him, fidgeting as though she was about to jump out of her own skin.

  “You okay, Meagan?”

  The gaze she leveled on him answered the question…Definitely not okay. In fact, so far from it, she was about to lose it. She opened her mouth to speak, but instead, grabbed her purse from behind the bar and rushed out the back door at a run.

  CHAPTER 11

  The Normalcy of Paranormalcy

  He didn’t even try to stop her, but went out the front to his own truck and followed her home, keeping an eye on her erratic driving. That alone, told him she’d probably cried all the way home. He pulled up behind her and caught her before she entered her home through the side door.

  “Come on in, Mitch,” she said, not even bothering to face him, as if she’d expected him to follow her home. Once inside, she dropped her purse and headed to her room, coming out with a handful of clean clothes. She murmured something before disappearing into the bathroom.

  He heard the distinct sounds of her showering, suspected how taxing it had been for her to wear clothing covered in someone else’s blood. Remembering the dozens of times he’d been in that particular situation, he could definitely relate.

  Eyeball-deep in thoughts of missions, sniper attacks, and IED’s, Meagan caught him somewhat by surprise with her timely exit from the bathroom.

  “Interested in a cup of decaf, Mitch?”

  He nodded, wrenching himself from the painful memories of holding Marine brothers in his arms as they spoke their last words…took their last breaths. “But, only if I’m not keeping you from getting some sleep. I really just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “I’ll live. I…I had to shower, though. And no, I doubt I’ll be getting to sleep anytime soon.” She waved her hand at the sofa. “Make yourself at home.”

  As soon as she disappeared into the kitchen, he quietly made his way down the hall to Buck’s room. Half expecting to see a ‘sad man’ standing by the boy’s bed, or at least having the room cloaked in icy temperatures, he was somewhat surprised at the normal atmosphere of the room.

  Mitch walked over to the small dresser, picked up the portrait of the Marine i
n dress blues, noting its absence of glass. Now that he’d spent a little more time with Buck, he could definitely see some of the little boy in his dad’s features. How sad that the kid would grow up never knowing his own father. Lots of kids lost their parents as children, but the majority had at least something to remember them by. Buck didn’t even have a picture of him and his dad together. Not only that, but according to Meagan, Chris hadn’t even known of her pregnancy when he died. That had to suck.

  He placed it back on the surface, went to adjust its position, only to have it slide quickly to the other side of the dresser. From one second to the next the air turned icy, causing his breath to vaporize into visible puffs of smoke. His heart pounding in his chest, he reached out for the picture and jumped back as the damn thing flew into the wall on the opposite side of the room.

  “Shee…it!” he hissed, making sure Buck hadn’t awakened. That explained the missing glass.

  The instant Meagan appeared in the doorway, he could tell that she knew what had happened. Furthermore, the blank look on her face said she wasn’t a bit surprised.

  He raised both hands. “I didn’t do it.”

  She nodded and tucked the covers around her son. “I know. Coffee’s ready.”

  She turned and walked out. Just like that, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Sweet Jesus! Now he understood the seriousness of the situation. In the world she lived in, it was just a typical evening.

  Mitch followed her out, glad to cross the threshold into normal temperatures. He sat on the opposite end of the couch from her and picked up a mug of steaming coffee from the cocktail table.

  “I don’t know how you do this every day, Meagan.” He sipped from his cup and sat back on the sofa, crossing one booted foot over his knee.

  “You mean drink decaf?” She leaned back against the arm of the sofa, facing him, and stretched out her jeaned legs on the cushions.

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m talking about, smart ass.” He reached over with one hand to caress a bare foot. “Damn girl, your feet are ice cold.” He warmed both hands on his mug then set it aside. He reached for one of her feet, rubbing it briskly between his hands. She rewarded him with a low groan of appreciation.