I shrug my shoulders, heading for the garage to put my bag in the chest freezer. Hitting the button on my keys, the door opens as I see Duke's shadow follow mine.
"If the rumor was 'bout me being pregnant, it's true," I say matter-of-factly, not leaving any room for him to make assumptions or form opinions. "So if you came to pass judgment or criticize me, you can get out." I turn from the freezer to see him right in front of me, his eyes going from my face down the front of my dress and settling on my stomach, and I can't fight a shiver that flows through me, my arms going around my middle as if to protect myself from his sight.
"I'm not judgin'," he whispers, his eyes coming back to mine, "I'm just worried." I hear him sigh a little as his eyes hit the cement.
He steps back a little, running his hand through his hair again as he scans the garage. I see his eyes land on Chad's Harley, and then hop over to Randy's 1957 Chevy pickup, that is partially covered by a tan tarp. "You still have Rooster's truck?” he asks with a child-like astonishment in his voice, moving past my truck, and I follow him closely.
My brother Randy's Chevy is a relic in my heart, sitting in the far side of the garage. I had peeled the front end of the tarp up just last night when I couldn't sleep. I ran my hand along the front chrome bumper and smiled as the memories of riding in it with Randy flooded my mind. I see Duke's hand reach out to grab the tarp, and I almost scream, "NO!” the sound echoing off of the walls as he jumps and looks at me.
"I was just gonna lift the tarp," he says, defending his action but taking a few steps away from the truck.
"I'll do it," I whisper, lifting the dusty tarp up and over, just to uncover the cab on the driver's side.
Looking inside for the first time in almost three years, I am speechless. Chad left it exactly the way Randy had it the last time he drove it. Through the dirty window I can see an old Skoal can sitting on the bench seat, along with a ratty Virginia Tech baseball cap. A mud caked pair of boots sit on the floor boards at the passenger seat, a half empty bottle of water sticking out of the left foot. With my right hand on the door handle, I feel a tear slip down my cheek, my heart aching for my older brother.
I miss him so much. He had been there all through my youth as my protector, my mentor, my lifeline to normalcy. Now, now he is gone, along with my mother and for right now, it is just me and this little one growing inside me. Soon it will be three. Not soon enough, though.
"You alright, Rhea?” Duke's voice breaks my thoughts, snapping me back to reality. I nod, not facing him, and wipe the tear from my face with the back of my hand. "Truck looks great," he says, pulling up the tarp to look at the bed, and running his hands over the genuine wood tailgate.
"Yeah, Chad takes good care of it," I say with a smile, running my finger lightly over the side mirror.
Duke scoffs, making a loud snorting kind of noise, and I give him a mean look. "If only your man took better care of you." He pulls the tarp back over the bed and comes to stand right next to me, towering over me and letting his cologne wash over me.
"Chad takes care of me just fine," I say through my teeth, turning to leave Duke behind me.
His boots on the concrete give him away as he follows me to the door. "If I was your man, I'd spend every day and night with you, Rhea." His lips are so close to my ear it makes me shiver and I press my body as close to the door as I can, trying to unlock it with shaky fingers.
"Duke," I swing around, blocking the doorway and looking up into his blue-green eyes, "I'm with Chad. I'm having Chad's baby. You can either get over it, and be my friend, or leave." I point toward the yard and his truck through the open garage door.
"Alright," he shrugs taking a step right up to me, "just figured I'd try." He gives me a smile, but I'm still cautious to let him in the house. He seems to sense my apprehension and he throws up his hands. "I promise," he throws up a Boy Scout salute, "friends.”
I rub my forehead with the back of my hand, watching the man before me, and then I put my finger in his face as I turn to the side, allowing him to enter. "No funny business," I say, poking him in the chest.
He smiles and nods, walking into the mud room and through to the kitchen as I follow him. I put him to work for the hour I have before helping Dana with dinner. Duke paints the walls leading up the stairs, including the spaces in between each stair and he gets it done in the hour with surprisingly little complaint.
Throwing the empty paint tray and used roller and brushes into the wash tub sink in the basement; I pull a light sweatshirt from the hook and head back up the stairs into the back of the kitchen. "Thanks for the help," I say, handing Duke a can of Coke as he heads out the front door.
"No problem, Rhea." He smiles, buttoning his shirt as he hops down the stairs. "Anytime you need anything jus' call." He gives me a wink and a wave as he goes around the bed of his truck, and I head across the lawn. Waving back, I give him a sweet little smile, making sure not to let it last too long. I drape the sweatshirt over my arms as I make my way across the length of grass.
Duke's attitude change is nice, but I still have my doubts. Pulling my cell from my pocket I send Kendall a text to have Harlan call me later when he is done with barn chores.
You can never be too safe. As they always say, better safe than sorry.
Well, I just don't want to be sorry.
~~~~~~~~~
Duke
I sit in the driver's seat of my truck, watching Rhea walk across her yard in my rearview mirror. I am surprised at the self-control I have maintained in the last hour while around her in that little sundress. She does seem to be glowing, at least to me, and it makes the blood rush through my veins even now. I was a little off-put by hearing Jesse tell me she is pregnant over the phone this morning, but when I looked at her walking across the yard toward me earlier, all those apprehensions disappeared.
She is beautiful, and I am more determined now to win her over and make her mine. She needs me. She is lonely, I can tell. She almost chatted my ear off as I painted her stairs, standing at the landing the entire time and watching me. She looked so sweet with her head resting in her hand that was propped up on her knee, her feet out before her as her legs shook slightly back and forth.
I look in my rearview one more time and see a last glimpse of her as she enters Dana Payne's house, her blue and white sundress disappearing behind the door as I steer my truck out of her driveway. Some would say that my plan is devious, maybe even devil-like, but I know it will work. Winning my way into her heart, and back into her bed, will take work, and patience, but I'm willing to do it for her.
My trailer is a far cry from Chad's home, but it's where I grew up and Rhea grew up in one as well, so it's not like she'd be downgrading. Throwing the door open, I'm not surprised to see Jesse and Jarrod sitting on my couch, beers in hand, watching a UFC fight on my flat screen.
"Where the hell have you been, cuz?" Jesse says as I chuck my hat at him.
"Rhea's," I say, reaching into the fridge and uncapping a bottle of Coors, taking a long drink. I straighten up and face my two friends and see their unbelieving gazes locked on, assessing my appearance. Looking down at myself, I do look like I just went ten rounds in the sack with some hottie, but the paint on my hands gives the real reason away. "Helpin' her 'round the house." I smile as I kick at Jarrod's leg, getting him to lift his legs up so I can walk past and plop down into my recliner.
"Playin with fire, cuz," Jesse says through his teeth, and I spare him an uncaring look. "You'll bring some heat down on ya that ya don't need." I just shrug my shoulders at him as I take another long drink from the Coors in my hand and rake my hand through my longer than usual hair, pushing it back out of my face. "Plus, she's prego! You don't wanna be raising someone else's brat."
"Hey!” I yell, slamming my bottle down on the side table right next to Jesse's seat on the couch, making a little bit of it jump out and land on his hand. "What I plan on doing and not doing is none of your business. If it'll get Rhea to be with me I'll
promise her the God-damned moon for all you care. If it takes me tellin' her I'll raise that brat like my own, I'll fuckin' say it. Doesn't mean I'll do it."
Jarrod lets out a loud laugh, leaning back in his seat next to Jesse on my old, musty couch. "You're one conniving bastard, ya know that?" He gives me a wild smile, tipping the brim of his John Deere hat up with his beer bottle, and I can't help but laugh because he's right.
"If it works, he'll be one conniving genius," Jesse adds, and we all laugh. Making Jesse get up and get us all more beers, I lean back and relax in my recliner, peeling off my boots and letting them fall to the old and faded brown carpet.
I grin to myself, watching the two grown men on the TV beating the living shit out of each other; thinking of how well my plan is going to work. I am going to work my way into her heart, filling that spot that she says Chad occupies. I’ll show her that she needs me and not him.
Now, all I have to work out is keeping that damn traitor, Harlan, and his bitch of a girlfriend, Kendall, away from Rhea long enough for my plan to take root. I’ll sneak her out from under Navy boy’s nose and no one can do a damn thing about it.
CHAPTER FIVE:
May 6, 2012
Chad
The desert sun is hot on my back as we all stand outside in the firing range, waiting for our targets to be set up by some Marines. We have been at it for the last three hours, waking up at the crack of dawn like we always do and starting our day as a Team on an eight mile run. It is now a little before ten, so our daily drills will be coming to a close as the heat rises to an unsafe temperature.
The torso targets are set and French issues the all clear command. Bringing my M-4 up, I keep in-step with Reno and the others as we all empty the magazines. We let them swing to our sides and un-holster our nine millimeter service issued SIGs, emptying the clips on those as we end up right in front of our targets. French and our commanding Major inspect the targets, nodding to each other, and then we're let go to have the rest of the day.
We all strip our Kevlar vests and clean our guns before entering the barracks, leaving our gear in our lockers. Timmons and Uclid flop down on the couches, flicking on the television to surf the channels while Benson and Black rack the balls on the pool table to pick up where our tournament left off. I toss my sweat-soaked clothes in the hamper on my way to the shower, hearing shouts from the guys as they razz me about my junk once again. I flip them all off over my shoulder as I slam the shower door shut.
I leave the cold water running strong and let it run over my shoulders, cooling me off to a point where I don't feel like my skin is boiling. "Chief, you in here?" I hear Reno's voice and the door next to mine slams shut.
"Yeah," I say, wiping the water from my face and pumping some body wash into my palm. Two seconds later, as I'm scrubbing away, I hear a blast of salsa music fill the air; Reno’s voice joining in with the lyrics makes me laugh out loud. I feel a million times better when I shut the water off, squeezing it from my hair and wrapping the towel around my waist.
Fending off comments from Timmons and Uclid, I make it through the family room without having to whip off my towel and lay the smack down, and I finally fling myself down on my bunk. With my arms folded behind my head I stare up at the new picture I had printed off early this morning after my Skype conversation with Rhea. It is a snapshot of the ultrasound she had done on Friday, and it is amazing that this is a part of both of us.
There, in that grainy black and white is a face, two hands, and feet. You can even pick out his or her profile, the nose, even the little fingers up near the face. She was a little upset that they hadn't been able to tell the gender, but she said that the doctor told her they would try again in another couple of weeks. I told her that it doesn't matter to me as long as they are both healthy, and the baby waits until I am home to meet the world.
I sure hope I can be there. Reno and I haven't heard back from Washington about pushing up our retirement date, so we've been kind of on edge the last week or two. He is always worried that Rosa is feeling overwhelmed and lonely, but I keep reassuring him that she has Rhea and Kendall, and that for the last couple of weekends she's been spending them at our house in Wakefield. He is just as much worried about his wife as I am about Rhea.
It doesn’t help that I am still having that damn nightmare. I come home and walk through the door, with flowers in hand to find an absolutely empty house, complete with a decorated nursery. Running through every room, I sprint across to my mom's house, bursting through the front door to hear her crying. I always find her kneeling on the floor in the kitchen, holding a crying infant who has Rhea's blue-grey eyes and she hands the baby to me then disappears. The baby stops crying, its eyes peer up at me as its little hands reach out to me from underneath a fuzzy blanket. What's different recently, that I haven't shared with Rhea, is as I stand there rocking the baby back and forth, Duke Orr's voice finds my ears, whispering "I tol' you, boy, that she is mine."
"Chief," Reno's voice breaks my musing and I sit up to see him standing before me in a pair of shorts, holding a football in his hands. "You seem to be thinking about somethin' serious." I just shake my head, pulling a pair of shorts from my foot locker and throwing them on. "Alright, if ya don't wanna talk ‘bout it now I'll pester ya later. Ya wanna come play some ball with the boys and I?"
"Hell yeah!” I say with a smile, pulling my hair back with a rubber band and following him out into the common area with socks and sneakers in hand. This could be what I need to clear my head of these dark thoughts. I had told my mom to have Harlan keep an extra keen eye on Rhea, especially where Duke is concerned, but those words and the meaning behind the dream still stump me.
All I know for certain is that if Duke does anything to hurt my family, I'll kill him.
It's as short and simple as that.
~~~~~~~~
Rhea
It is very warm today, and I am glad that Pastor Williams is conducting a short sermon, leaving Dana and I enough time to get our short list of groceries and get home before eleven. I leave her with a clean kitchen and tell her I’ll be back by two and that I am going to take a walk. Going through the patio doors at my house I hook up with the old four wheeler trail that skirts the trees, following it until I can't see the house.
The sun is out; the sky is bright blue with fluffy white clouds dotting it. I put my face up to catch the warmth, closing my eyes and listening to the sounds of nature. The birds are very noisy this morning as I leave the trail and wander in the trees, searching for the small pond that Chad had talked about last night when I had hinted about going for walks when the weather permits. I keep having to sweep flowers and tall weeds from my bare legs, the hem of my purple flowered sundress catching on every little thing that I brush past. My cheap flip flops would give away my path to anyone within one hundred yards as they live up to their name.
I’m lost in the sounds of the birds and bugs when I hear the familiar roar of a duel exhaust as I step around a fallen pine tree and turn to face back toward the house, shielding my eyes from the sun. I mentally kick myself for not bringing my cell with me as I see the silver Dodge Ram getting closer to my position. I'm still shielding my eyes as his tires skid to a stop in the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust around me.
"Sorry ‘bout that Rhea," he yells from the cab, shutting off the engine.
I step up on the running board and lean in the open passenger window. "How'd ya know I was back here, Duke?" He gives me a sly smile as he throws his Earnhardt Racing cap and aviator sunglasses on the dash, raking his hand back through his hair.
"You left the garage wide open along with your back patio door." He lets out a little laugh and I can't help but smile at my mistake. "I stood outside yellin' your name for ‘bout ten minutes."
"Oh man, sorry ‘bout that," I say with a smile, "but what did ya need?" Having people warn me to steer clear of Duke over the last week or so has made me wary and also a little mad that everyone is trying to tell me what to do. Do
they think that I am totally incompetent and can't take care of myself? I am beginning to believe so.
"I was jus' seein' if ya needed anythin' done ‘round the house." He leans forward on the steering wheel and his arm muscles bulge in his t-shirt. It seems like he's been working out more, his chest and shoulders seem to be bigger; his shirts are tighter. He nods toward a Styrofoam container sitting on the passenger seat.
"An’ my Aunt Janice wanted me to bring you some of her cherry pie. She knows ya like it." He gives me a cute little smile and I can't help but giggle at him. He does seem to be turning over a new leaf. Who am I to turn him down if he is trying to patch a bridge?
"I am just takin' a walk, trying to find a small pond that's back here if ya wanna come along?” I nod to the tree line I was about to break into before he came roaring up, leaning back from the truck with my feet still on the running boards and my arms outstretched, fingers gripping onto the window opening.
"Alright, I'll come with ya." He grins, pulling his hat and sunglasses from the dash and hopping out. I see him reach behind the seat for something before he slams his door shut. Coming around to meet me, I see he has a .22 in his hand and I give him a crossed-arm, hip-cocked look.
"What?" He laughs. "Might be some snakes, and with you in a sundress, I don't need to be carrying a pregnant lady nowhere."
"Hey!” I punch him in the arm and he lets out a hearty laugh, hanging back so I can lead the way into the tall weeds. "Shouldn't you be going first, great white snake killer?"
I look over my shoulder and see my reflection in Duke's aviators; a wide grin breaks out on his handsome face. He high tails it in front of me with a mockingly fierce look on his face as we wind our way through the weeds and trees.
Coming Home: Book 2 The Wakefield Romance Series Page 5
