A Distant Heart: A Contemporary Western

by Steedly, Arabella

  Sarah kept her eyes straight ahead as James came down off his perch and tied her hands behind her back and her feet together, then Simpson next to her, and the next… After giving them their instructions, consisting of swimming, bobbing, dropping to the bottom, somersaults, and finally they had to retrieve a mask off the bottom before they finished, he blew the whistle.

  She started her mantra in her head, up to the top, down to the bottom, breath, hold, dolphin swim, breathe…During the process, she heard screams and cries from a few classmates. James was in his chair with a long stick pushing some away from the edge and pulling out the ones that were mentally broken. When she came up one last time before retrieving her mask, she gasped for air. She was facing James and could tell by his piercing squint he was fearful for her. She felt herself urinate by accident, a sign she was losing control. One last time, she had it in her, she dove deep and grabbed the mask with her teeth. When she surfaced, Williams ran to help her out and assisted her to a chair. James turned in his seat, for a brief glance at them.

  She shook her head like a dog, water spraying. Then she looked at Williams, and said, “I’m not going to lie, this was by far the toughest exercise we have done.”

  Simms blew the whistle, and hollered, “Next group.”

  Sarah stood at the edge of the pool and bit her lip, watching Williams struggle and gasp. Once he raised to the surface and screamed, “Help!” James took his stick and pushed him away from the side.

  Sarah was afraid he would give up, so she yelled as loud as her tired lungs would let her, “Go, Williams, you can do it…you’re almost there.”

  James blew his whistle, looked at her, and yelled, “Quiet!” Williams made it out by the skin of his teeth. Six were washed out of the program that day. She and Williams sat on the bench, huddled together, gathering their energy for the run back to the barracks.

  On the way back, Sarah felt vilified, not only had she passed another milestone, but she figured she handled her feelings about James with maturity.

  ***

  One night, a few weeks later, the instructors had gathered them on the beach for a bonfire. Sarah was seated next to Williams on a log, and James was standing behind them. The fire popped and cracked, its blue and orange flames flickering against the darkness of the ocean. The smell of the smoke from the burning driftwood reminded Sarah of the time when the Connors family went on a camping trip up to the mountains of Yellowstone. Junior had invited James along for another one of General Connors’ adventures. Sarah remembered how James had held a roasted marshmallow on his stick out to her, then pulled it back teasing—eventually giving in to her loud protests. But her mind returned to the present when Instructor Freeman, one of the two new instructors who were introduced during the previous weeks, stood and moved to the front of the group. Instructor Freeman was a black SEAL, but to their team, they were all the same shade of Navy blue.

  Freeman propped one foot against a log, and said, “If you made it to the night before Hell Week, you can make it all the way.” Some of the class gathered around to listen to his story, musing about the days ahead, planting the idea it ‘was’ possible to get through Hell Week if they stayed focused and strong, but Sarah was not taken in by his—I’m your new best friend approach—she knew better. Out of a class of thirty recruits, James and Simms had narrowed it down to twenty-two. Thomas had been the first to go, then during the charting test another rang the ship’s bell, the signal he was quitting. They lost six during drownproofing. She knew in her heart Freeman and the other new instructor Madison were going to pile it on and turn up the heat. Their evening get together was nothing more than the calm before the storm.

  They were ordered back to the barracks to sleep. By that time, most had learned that teaching the body to relax and rest at every opportunity was just as important as physical training. Before their jog back, James pulled her to one side of the sand dune then waited a moment until the others moved on. He looked down at Sarah and leaned closer. Wrapping his hand around her wrist, he caressed it with his thumb, and asked, “How’s it feeling?”

  Sarah turned to look behind them, wide eyes darting, checking to see if they were alone. Satisfied they were, she paused before pulled away, and said, “It’s a hundred percent. I’m ready.”

  He moved closer still and placed both hands on her shoulders. His eyes were two slits when he said, “You and Williams seem pretty tight. I mean, you two stick together like two peas in a pod.”

  She grinned, and said, “He’s a friend nothing more. He has a fiancé back home.”

  His scowl turned into a smile. For a moment she wondered if he was going to try to kiss before he said, “Sarah, I know your father is proud of you. He called Cmdr. Jones yesterday to ask about your progress and was told you were an outstanding recruit. But I want you to know; I’m proud of you too… And you are driving me crazy!”

  Sarah could feel his hot breath against her neck and his hard cock bumping against her belly when he pulled her into a tight embrace. Her head began to spin, and she felt her pussy getting wet, as James moved his hand under her chin and lifted her mouth to his. He pressed his tongue inside, and she moaned, his hand had dropped to her ass, pulling her tight against his throbbing hot bulge.

  Suddenly, Sarah heard the soft crunching of sand. James sprang back just as Simms asked, “Everything alright here?”

  ***

  Later that night, back in his rack, James tossed and turned. It was well past midnight, and he could not get Sarah off his mind. At first, he had been concerned that Simms might say something, but so far he hadn’t. James wasn’t sure how much Simms had seen, but something told him he’d seen too much. They had been compadres since joining the same team. After finishing their assignment in the middle east, they had jumped at the chance to become trainers. James trusted Simms to keep his mouth shut, but he knew Simms well enough to know that if asked by Cmdr. Jones, he would tell the truth, though, James was sure Cmdr. Jones was not around, and neither was the rest of the group. So he and Sarah were safe. What he was tortured by the most, were the erotic images of Sarah that came to mind.

  He had seen just enough of her pussy the night of the attack—the image burned into his brain. During the scuffle, Thomas had clung to Sarah shorts and panties, pulling them down as James was pulling him off of her. James could picture her neatly cropped patch of light brown hair and even got a glimpse of her sweet pussy lips.

  Glancing over at Simms, asleep on his bed, he slipped under his covers. After working his hand under the band of his boxers, he massaged his balls before he grabbed his rock hard dick. Laying back on his pillow, he visually opened her legs and fingering her tight snatch, hot and juicy. His strokes were slow at first, pulling gently on his cock before he quickened his pace. In his mind, he slipped two fingers into her pussy and watched her start to writhe. Remembering her moan when he kissed her, he stopped and reached over to his nightstand drawer. Pulling it open, he found the massage oil. After squirting if one his hand, he closed the drawer and laid back down.

  At that point, he didn’t care if Simms woke up. He had seen Simms fuck himself before more that once. Hell, over in the middle east they used to watch porn together, but never physically touched, though, they watched each other, and James had enjoyed it. Simms had a good sized cock, but not as thick as his. Easing back on his pillow, he rolled on his side. Cum was already dripping down his cock head. He grasped his dick and fucked his hand, working his hips as if he had Sarah on her side and was penetrating her. James’ mind was popping with visions of her pussy, sloppy wet with cum. He imagined her bringing her legs up, and locking them behind his waist, arching her back yelping with each stroke. At that moment he felt his warm juice jetting out over onto his hand. Then he looked over at Simms’ still asleep and wondered what was to come during Hell Week.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The first day of Hell Week started off much like Sarah’s father and explained it would. They were told to count-off. The even num
bered recruits were named Red Team and the odd Blue. When Simms tweeted his whistle twice, the race began. Carrying their boats, they headed two miles north past the BUD/s facility to the Pacific. After reaching the water, each group boarded their vessels where Freeman and Madison placed blindfolds over their eyes. Sarah felt a bit queasy while they were towed for an hour to an undisclosed location. When Sarah heard James give them their instructions her breath hitched. She wondered if he had been assigned to Red Team or had assigned himself. He said, “Okay, we’ve been towed some distance off shore. After you take off your blindfold, I need you to use the sextant and compass to find your way back to base. One person will be chosen to prepare the chart and navigate. The others will take turns rowing.” After several minutes of quiet, James said, “Okay, remove your blindfolds.”

  It didn’t take the team long to assign Sarah the task of navigating. The others were glad to do the manual labor knowing her charting skills were more superior. She opened the plastic waterproof box and pulled out a blank chart, grease pencil, sextant, and compass. She waited for a cloud to move before she got their bearings. “Looks like we need to be heading southeast,” she said. Sarah looked up at the sky, lifted up her polarized glasses and slide them down over her eyes. Her confident expression slipped into a scowl when she turned to James, and asked, “Instructor Conway, what is the weather forecast?”

  He peered up at the sky, then shook his head. “Supposed to be clear today. That’s why we decided on this maneuver today.”

  Jackson looked up. “Sir, I think a storm’s brewing.”

  James cleared his throat, shifted in his seat, and barked, “We’re Navy SEAL’s—focus, effort, and persistence!”

  The men kept rowing in the direction Sarah indicated as the swells turned into white caps and the storm clouds rolled in. James looked up, and said, “You know what this is? It’s the damned Air Force and their fucking HAARP. The Air Forces are supposed to inform Navy before they start experimenting with nature so we could plan accordingly!”

  “No, that’s just some bull shit propaganda story. There’s no such thing as HAARP,” someone said.

  Jackson shook his head and pointed to the squall line rolling in. “Then explain that.”

  Within minutes their vessel was tossed around like a hot potato, and they began to take on more water than they could bail out. Sarah knew the California coast almost by heart, and from the readings, she was confident she knew their approximate location. Over the howl of the wind, she yelled, “The wind is taking us close to the San Clemente Ridge, just bail and keep us afloat, there are clumps of small uncharted islands along here.”

  They had removed their shirts and tied knots in the sleeves to fashion makeshift scoops to bail as fast as they could. Williams looked at James, and yelled, “I’m not sure how much longer she gonna last. We’re losing the battle here.” By that time, James had uncovered a hand pump that was stowed in the bow with emergency supplies, so they were able to keep the craft afloat.

  After what seemed like an hour in a wet hell, they spotted driftwood floating, a sign an island was nearby. Then a massive wave picked the boat up and thrust them onto a reef. She heard the hull crack into splinters just before they were all thrown overboard. Clinging to the side, Sarah got her bearings and pointed ahead. “I think this is the island we used to visit when I was a kid. Daddy took us camping out here.”

  “I see it. Right over there!” Jackson pointed off to their left.

  After swimming to shore they all stood shivering on the beach and decided since Sarah and Williams were the two recruits who had scored the highest during the previous week of survival training, they were elected as team leaders. Sarah noticed how James watched her every move, but stayed away and didn’t speak to her.

  “Once we create a shelter and start a fire we’ll need to scout the area for the basics,” Sarah said.

  Jackson pointed to the palm trees. “Let’s start with a lean-to. Lots of palm fronds around here.”

  “Good idea. Jackson, it’s all you.” Sarah tried to keep the team in good spirits as Jackson quickly shinnied up one of the trees and was using his knife to cut down the fronds. Sarah noticed the trunk looked slippery from the rain and warned him to be careful, but it was too late.

  The accident happened in slow motion. Sarah watched as Jackson lost his grip and came tumbling down, landing on top of Thibodeau who was working on the ground below him. Sarah and James ran to help. It was obvious Jackson’ back was injured, and Thibodeau’s foot was turned the wrong way.

  “Go collect some driftwood. We need to make Thibodeau a splint,” Sarah explained to the others gathered around wondering how to help.

  After they had rushed away, James peeled off his shirt and handed it to Sarah. “Use this to secure the splint.” She tried to keep focused, but she couldn't keep her eyes off the curves of his six-pack rippling along his abdomen and the bulge a little farther below. Looking up at him, she licked her lips, and said, “I’ll bet there are some edible plants just beyond that ridge—berries and maybe some bananas. Once I get Thibodeau splinted, I’ll go look.” James nodded and grinned.

  While the rest of the recruits finished what Jackson and Thibodeau had started, James and Williams examined Jackson more closely and determined he, more than likely, had cracked his spine. Sarah took one look at Jackson, his face was pale and he was grimacing. Then she nodded toward Thibodeau. “These men need something for their pain and I know what to look for!”

  James took the hint and said, “I’ll scout for some fresh water.”

  ***

  Sarah headed off to look for landmarks she might remember. As she mounted the top of the ridge, she stood beside a palm tree and rested her hand against the trunk. For a moment, she was taken back to the last time they had visited the island. She figured she must have been ten or eleven years old back then. The view was breathtaking, and she noticed how quiet it was. There was no pounding surf or squawks from gulls weaving overhead. Then, across the island from where the men were, she spotted what she was looking for, an old iron ship keeled over on its side rusting away. She remembered the wild lettuce grew close to the same area, but that had been at least ten years before.

  The rustling of the brush nearby told her James—at least she hoped it was him and not a wild animal—had found her.

  “Look, it’s over there, the ship.” She pointed down below.

  “All I see is you, Sarah,” James said, as he came up from behind and slipped his arms around his waist. She was excited to have James alone, but knew they needed to make their way down to the ship before nightfall and then get back to the others.

  He must have sensed what she was thinking because he said, “Come on darlin, follow me. I know where were going.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Junior and I used to come over here and smoke weed.” He grinned at her.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I’ll admit it. Remember Junior’s skiff? It was that summer when we were all together at Redondo Beach.” He took her hand and helped her past a few sharp rocks.

  “In that rickety old boat? Did Daddy know?”

  “Yes, he knew.”

  “That you were smoking pot?” She stopped in her tracks and put her hand on her hip.

  James rolled his eyes, “Of course we didn’t tell him about the weed, but he knew where we went. And I suspect he knew about the pot too. Your Daddy is no fool.”

  “I wish you hadn’t told me that, James,” she said, as they picked their way down the ridge.

  “Oh, hell Sarah, you’re not a kid anymore—thank goodness!” He stopped, swung around, and looked down at her boobs. “You’ve grown into a beautiful woman.”

  “James….” His lips were gentle at first. Then he grabbed her, pulling her close. She opened her mouth and welcomed his tongue. Just when he ran his hand up under her wet T-shirt, she pulled away. Breathless, she said, “James, we got to talk first, but not now. We must get back to the others.�
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  “Yes, Ma’am.” He stepped back, and openly adjusted himself with a grin, turned and lead the way down the hill.

  When they got to the bottom, Sarah stopped. Looking one way than another, she said, “The wild lettuce is over there…or it used to be.” She pointed under the scrub brush.

  “What exactly is wild lettuce?” James was serious.

  “It looks like lettuce, but it grows on a stalk. The milk inside is like morphine.” She bent down and started parting the vines.

  “Stand up, girl…unless…” James walked closer.

  She swatted his arm. “Stop it. We need to think about the others right now. I told you we have to talk before going any further.” She turned her butt in the opposite direction. Looking up, she smirked, and said, “Is this better…oh look…there it is.” On the way back they both agreed to try and meet after dark when the rest had gone to sleep. They needed to have a serious talk. She wanted to know his intentions.