by Jillian Hart
“I have an appointment on Monday.” Giselle shrugged. “I think it will help.”
“Good. I think it will, too.”
“I’m going home this weekend. Pierce is paying for my ticket.” The girl blinked hard, as if she were fighting tears and more. “We’re going to get the whole family together and have an old-fashioned hog roast at Uncle Frank’s. That way Pierce will have a good send-off.”
She hadn’t heard from him, but he was probably busy and it had only been two days. Guys never hurried about getting back to you, whether it was romantic or not. “You sound more accepting of his choice.”
“Just resigned, I guess. I want to support him, but I’m really scared for him.” Tears welled up and she blinked them back.
“I would be, too.” She tried not to think of her feelings for Pierce. “We just want him to be safe.”
“Yeah. I’m going to keep hoping he’ll change his mind, but I know he won’t. He’s always been stubborn.”
“I think he’s trying to do what’s right.” And if she didn’t like the idea of Pierce being in danger, she also had to admit that she’d never met anyone so innately capable. Giselle stayed for a few more minutes, talking of less painful things before she excused herself to go study. She, too, had a mound of work waiting her.
At least things were going better for the girl. Lexie hunkered down at her desk, eyeing her stack of research books and the third draft of her research paper sitting in the printer, awaiting final tweaking and a good proofread. This was the reason she’d met Pierce, she thought, lifting the fifteen pages from the printer tray. She had put off researching the project so she could go skiing. Remembering him was like sipping chamomile tea; it warmed her in a cozy, nice way.
So she was thinking of him with a smile on her face as she woke up her laptop and saw the message. She had three new e-mails in her in-box. Her pulse fluttered with a tiny smidgeon of hope. Not that she was waiting for an e-mail from him, she reminded herself. It was best to ward off disappointment. Pierce didn’t have time to e-mail her. So exactly why was she forgoing her work to double-click on her mail program?
Her eyes zeroed in on the screen. His name was at the top of the list. She opened it, breathless, wondering what he had to say. Were things going well with his family? Or did he need a supportive shoulder?
Hey Lexie,
I’ve got a spare minute, so I’m borrowing my brother’s laptop. Sean doesn’t know it’s missing yet. It’ll be interesting to see if I can finish this e-mail before he figures it out. My mom has been stuffing me with all my favorites—chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting, homemade pot roast and gravy, breakfast with all the trimmings. I think she’s spoiling me to make it impossible to leave. I’ve never had it quite this good. I’ve got a spare minute, so I’m borrowing my brother’s laptop. Sean doesn’t know it’s missing yet. It’ll be interesting to see if I can finish this e-mail before he figures it out. My mom has been stuffing me with all my favorites—chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting, homemade pot roast and gravy, breakfast with all the trimmings. I think she’s spoiling me to make it impossible to leave. I’ve never had it quite this good.
She reached for the cup of tea that had been cooling on her desk and took a soothing sip. More like Mrs. Granger was so glad to have her son home safe and sound, she was spoiling him. She could picture the kind family gathering around their son. She kept reading.
Skip, my stepdad, took us up into the back country for some late season snowmobiling yesterday. This afternoon, cross-country skiing is on the agenda. Earlier in the morning, my mom dragged me to her church group meeting. The Ladies’ Aid stuffed me with cookies and pinched my cheeks. Lots of the ladies remembered when I was knee-high to a grasshopper. It’s weird being back home. It’s like beaming down into a time warp. The ranch is the same, with horses and cattle grazing and fence always needing repairing. Skip doesn’t want me to help him with the work while I’m here. I’m frustrated. So tomorrow morning after my run, I’m going to commandeer the ranch truck and head out to fix the east fence line. By the time he figures out what I’m up to, it’ll be too late to stop me.
What’s your day like? How’s the ankle? Write when you can and save me from my family. I need contact with someone normal. Help!
Best,
Pierce.
A knock at her door broke into her thoughts. “Lexie?”
“Hi Amber.” She hated turning away from her computer screen, but she was glad to see another of her favorite girls. Okay, all the girls on her floor were her favorite. “What can I do for you?”
“I was hoping I could ask your opinion on something?” Amber leaned against the door frame, one hand behind her back. “It’s for my intro to American lit class. I have my paper done early, but now that I’ve had all this time to think about it, it’s probably awful. Would you look at it?”
“I’d be happy to. I don’t know how useful my opinion will be, but I’ll do my best.”
“Thanks.” She smiled and slipped the paper on the small coffee table. “No rush. It’s not due until Friday.”
“I’ll read it next,” she promised as the girl flashed a relieved smile and took off down the hall.
She turned back to her computer.
Dear Pierce,
Here I am, writing to your rescue. (Sorry about the awful pun!) Although I’m sure your family is great. Don’t forget that I know your sister, who is one of the nicest girls on my floor. Have you talked to her lately? You might want to give her a call.:)
Sure, go ahead and torture me with visions of snowmobiling and life on the ranch. My uncle’s place is a cattle ranch, and I work for his family every summer. Talk about the best summer job. I get to take care of calves, ride horses and swim in the creek when it’s too hot. Which sounds really good right now, because another cold front has decided to dump a new foot of snow on us. Since crutches and snow don’t mix well, I’m limiting my sojourns to class, chapel and work, which gives me lots of extra time in my room to catch up on my homework. Yippee. (That wasn’t a sarcastic yippee—well, not too sarcastic!)
The ankle is good. Sore, but the swelling is going down. I’ve spent my afternoon going up and down the elevator with my laundry and finishing the last draft of a research paper that’s due tomorrow. I start my shift at the library at six, so it’s an early dinner and then sitting at the reference desk until ten. A thrilling day—not! But remember, you asked. That will teach you.
Are your folks giving you a hard time? Or accepting your decision?
Write when you can (or when you can borrow your brother’s computer again),
Lexie.
She ran a quick spell check and sent it, wondering what he was up to this afternoon. There were so many details she didn’t know about his day. Was it snowing where he was, too? Was he out skiing? Hollering “banzai” as he blazed a trail through the snowy meadows?
“Lexie?” Rose was at the door. “You wouldn’t have a paper clip, would you?”
“Just a sec.” She pulled open her top desk drawer in search of the cylinder of colorful paper clips. She spotted it and offered it to the girl. “Here you go.”
Another successful mission. Rose chose a yellow coated paper clip with thanks and bopped out of the room.
Look at the full life she had. She should be focusing on reading Amber’s paper, on finishing her own paper and on the rest of a very busy day. So there was no explanation why she was missing Pierce, or why she was looking forward to his next e-mail.
She listened while she worked, but there was no telltale beep to signal that a new message was in her in-box.
“Pierce!” Mom’s voice echoed in the upstairs hallway.
“I’m not here,” he bellowed back as he finished reading Lexie’s letter. He poked his head down the hall and sneaked a look over the banister. No sign of his brother pounding his way through the house.
Their old sheepdog, Roger, lifted his head from his bed next to the couch and gave him a long l
ook.
“Keep watch for me, will you, boy?”
The dog blinked, as if he understood perfectly. With Roger on the job, Pierce sat back down and started to type.
Lexie,
Glad to hear you’re getting around all right. You were fairly impressive on those crutches. I hope they don’t have you stuck on the reference desk until your ankle heals. That’s a long time, and anything with the word reference in it, can’t be exciting.
We only have ten acres here, enough for a few beef cows and a dozen horses. Your uncle’s ranch sounds like Uncle Frank’s spread. Big and wonderful and full of things to do. Whenever Mom got tired of dealing with the four of us all day long (no school), she would ship us over to Uncle Frank’s to stay. We would run wild with our cousins, play in the river all day, camp out in the woods for nights on end. I can see you rolling your eyes. I know what you’re thinking. That’s why he’s the way he is.
What can I say? It’s true.
Hope your paper, your work and your life are going great.
Best,
Pierce.
He hit Send, his senses went on alert. Downstairs, Roger gave a low “woof.” Too late. Footsteps whispered on the carpet. Was Sean coming? He moved out of his chair stealthily and edged up to the door. The muffled hush of footsteps rustled closer. He waited for the precise moment and shot out the door, wrapping an arm around Sean’s neck. They tumbled to the floor with a crash.
“You’re getting slow, big brother.” Sean laughed, wrestling for the advantage.
“You’re the slow one.” He countered, keeping Sean square on the shag carpet. “I’m not the lazy one without a job. Hello.”
“I’m a misunderstood genius.” The old family joke.
Pierce rolled his eyes.
Roger woofed in warning, sharper this time. Trouble was on the way.
“Mom’s coming!” They said in unison, falling apart. Although they were grown, neither of them wanted to get in the doghouse with her. He stood up, straightening his wrinkled shirt.
“What are you boys doing up there?” She stood midway up the staircase, giving them a firm look. It was at odds with her soft curls, dimpled chin and ruffled apron.
“He took my computer, Mom.” Sean might be twenty-four, but he sounded twelve.
“I was going to bring it back,” Pierce found himself arguing just like old times.
“Did you hear that, Mom? Are you going to ground him or something?”
Pierce smiled at their mom, knowing her firm look held no substance. She wasn’t mad at either of them. She was a complete softy.
“Pierce, you give that computer back. And boys, no more fighting in the house.” She gave them one long-lasting scowl of warning before heading back downstairs.
“What were you doing with it anyway?” Sean asked. “You’re not exactly a computer geek. Were you writing to your girlfriend?”
“As if a girl would have me.” The best defense was a great offense. He doubted anyone in his family, Giselle included, would understand his friendship with Lexie. “Just like no girl will have you, Sean.”
“Hey, I’m in a dating dry spell right now.” He launched out; Pierce ducked and countered and took him down. They hit the ground, a loud thump echoed down the hall, and Roger barked enthusiastically. Mom came marching their way.
“Enough, you two, or no dessert for either one of you.” She sounded fierce, but her eyes were laughing. If he looked hard enough, he could see she was biting down on her lip to keep from howling. “Honestly, I don’t know what it is about you boys. It’s a wonder I have a house left. Now straighten up, both of you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He unhooked his arm from around Sean’s neck. It was amazing what he had to put up with just to borrow a computer. The only thing missing was Tim, who would have thrown himself into the fight and caused even more havoc.
That was the cost of war, a lost soldier’s life. Pierce knew wherever Tim was in heaven, he was missing them, too.
Lexie drowned out the hustle and bustle of the dining hall and ignored the loud drone of conversations. Friday evenings were especially loud, since everyone was in good spirits. Instead of grabbing a table with friends or with some of the girls from her floor, she’d taken over a small table near the window. Her laptop fit nicely next to her tray of turkey noodle casserole and a big plate of green salad.
She took a swig of iced tea, wondering what to say in her next e-mail. Pierce was probably dining with his family right now, reunited after long months apart. It sounded as if he had a good family life, in spite of his parents’ divorce. They had that in common, too.
There were a lot of surprising similarities between them. They had both given up on love. They were both Christians. They had grown up in Wyoming, although in different parts of the state. It felt as if she had known him a long time, although it hadn’t been long at all, which would be scary if not for the fact he would be returning to his Army life and she wouldn’t really have to take a close look at her fears of commitment and intimacy.
Still, a lingering unsettled feeling remained. She closed her computer and tucked it into her backpack. She could put off answering him. Maybe it was caution, or maybe it was fear. Either way, she was spending way too much time thinking about him.
An electronic ring interrupted her. Her cell phone. She dug it out of her pocket. “Hello?”
“Guess who.”
She recognized his friendly baritone. “Pierce Granger. I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I had some time on my hands and couldn’t think of anything better to do than to call you.” His tone said otherwise.
Why she brightened from hearing that, she couldn’t say. Maybe because it was good to hear his voice. Best not to analyze that too much. “Giselle made it home safe and sound, I assume.”
“Yep. She’s with Mom doing the dishes, deep in girl talk. Like I told you, it’s strange. Some things never change, even when everything has.”
She could see clearly what he didn’t say. “While your brother is gone, your family is still there. Life goes on, like it did before.”
“That’s it. It’s nice. Skip and Sean are out feeding the horses. I was going to borrow Sean’s computer to try to instant message you, but this time he really hid it good. I’ll find it, but it’s going to take a little more effort.”
“I have every faith in you.”
“Good, because failure isn’t an option.”
She could picture his big smile, the one that reached all the way to his eyes and made dimples bracket his lean mouth. Total charm, made all the more awesome for the substance beneath.
“I owe you a big thanks.” His voice grew serious and low. “Giselle told me about the support group.”
“I only made one call and held her hand. No thanks necessary.” She was glad she was able to help. She was doubly glad to hear his relief. “Have they talked you out of the Army yet?”
“No chance of that. How come you can understand when they can’t?”
“I don’t have the same expectations as your family does.” She took a sip of her tea, surprised to find she was still seated in the crowded dining hall. “It has to be hard to be torn between what your family wants for you and what you have to be.”
“That’s one tough journey, walking your own path. God doesn’t always mark the way well, but you’ve got to keep faith and keep on trekking.” He cleared his throat. Maybe he’d had enough serious talk. “Tomorrow we’re going over to Uncle Frank’s ranch for the day. He’s firing up the barbecue pit and having all the family over.”
“I’ve never been to a hog roast, although my aunt and uncle smoke ham for family get-togethers. It sounds like fun.”
“It usually is. Every woman in the family bakes up her best dishes. It’s the best potluck ever.”
“My mom’s side of the family does that, too. It’s funny how we grew up so alike.”
“You ran wild in your youth, too?”
“Ha! That’s an image.” She could see him as a little boy, brown hair wind-ruffled as he raced through mountain meadows. “I was a quiet child. If I was outside, I was under a tree in the shade with my nose in a book.”
“I was a Hardy boy fan, myself. I read every one of them. In the summers, Mom would pack us a lunch and we would take off for our tree fort. We would spend most of the day on top of that platform, keeping lookout for enemies and digging into our books. We’d spend day after day that way.”
“I can picture that. Something tells me you did more than read.”
“True. Sean would trail along with us most of the time, but he was the one who held down the fort when Tim and I got antsy and needed a little more adventure.”
“Adventure?”
“We would take off into the hillside, climbing over downed trees and trailing through the woods. There were animals to track—deer, elk, moose, cougar and the occasional bear. It was fun following the tracks and every once in a while we ran into one of the animals. We’d sit in the brush, still as stones, just watching.”
“There was a creek on our land, that my aunt and uncle own now. My cousins and I used to wade in it. When we were older, we used to go swimming where it ran deep. Fun memories.”
“When we were shipped off to Uncle Frank’s place we did serious damage. We put a rope in a tree so we could swing out into the river. Foolhardy. Could have killed ourselves, but what Uncle Frank didn’t know didn’t hurt us, I guess.”
“You were one of those kids always floating the river or jumping off train trestles, weren’t you?”
“Guilty. Let me guess. When you weren’t a mild-mannered reader or a cautious swimmer in a sensible creek—”
“Hey, it’s better to be sensible than sorry!” Was that the way he saw her? She blinked and realized that once again she was still in the cafeteria. Talking with him transported her entirely. She’d forgotten her food, which had to be seriously cool by now. When she glanced at the clock above the door, she was shocked. She had twenty minutes to go before work. Where had the hour gone? She forked in a mouthful of turkey and noodles, chewing fast.
