Coming Home: Book 2 The Wakefield Romance Series

by Hewitt, Theresa Marguerite

  Kicking off my boots, I throw myself down into my beat up recliner, flicking on the TV to zone out so I can go to bed eventually. Jesse crosses in front of me, tossing a beer into my lap, and I gladly open it, chugging three quarters of the can before taking a breath. My cousin doesn't say a thing, just plops down on my ancient couch, tossing his boots under the coffee table before situating his feet on top, crossing his ankles.

  "I really do love her, Jess,” I say, blankly staring at the television as Peter Griffin fights that human size chicken.

  "I know ya do, Duke," he says, drawing the 'oo' sound of my name out a little longer, drawing my attention to him. "But ya gotta look at the big picture." He rests one arm behind his head as he looks at me, and for the first time in months I notice that his hair is longer than usual. What a girl he is.

  "She's pregnant, with Chad's baby, so there's gonna be that hump to get over if ya can break through to her. And if you love her, you have to think about what's the best for her."

  He is right. I have to think about Rhea more and me less. What I want more than anything is to make her happy; happy with me. I am what is best for her. I will do my hardest to show her that and win her over, making her fill this hole in my heart for the rest of our lives.

  CHAPTER SEVEN:

  June 14, 2012

  Chad

  Colombia

  The water is warm and murky, the mud clinging to my boots as we trudge through the chest deep mess, on full alert. Stopping, throwing my hand up in a closed fist, I hear the slight sloshes behind me halt. Going down in a crouch, I turn and signal for French and Black to come to my position.

  Their faces are painted black and green like mine and the rest of the Teams’, and they crouch beside me. "The camp should be up here on the left," Black says, pointing around in front of us. "We should split into three groups. Flank the sides if we can."

  Both French and I nod. The drug runner camp is, according to our intel, up the worn jungle path we stand beside. We are tasked with capturing their leader, one Gerardo Filipe, and bring him to a military base for questioning, most likely Guantanamo Bay. It is rumored that Filipe is selling guns to known Iraqi terrorists suppliers, so our government wants to put a stop to it.

  French signals to Timmons and Uclid to go off into the thick jungle, taking positions to be our eyes in the sky using their sniper skills to the fullest. Black and French take Talbot with them, slinking off to my left as Reno and I make quick work of the brush in front of us; keeping low and quiet while making our way to the main entrance of the compound.

  Over the radio comes the info that an un-manned drone has just done a fly-by, counting thirteen guards posted up over the compound grounds. French tells us all to stay put until Timmons can get a good position, so Reno and I hunker down, flat on our bellies with binoculars in hand.

  "Chief," Reno says quietly as I see him scan the perimeter. I nod, checking the fences for any visible weak spots from here. "Have you gotten your answer yet?" I don’t have to ask what he is talking about, because there is only one thing that we are both waiting on: the answer for our retirement date. And what a time for him to be thinking of it.

  "No, Man, not yet.” I shake my head; because it pisses me off that the government is taking their time and letting my nerves hang in the balance. I really want, no, I need to be home when Rhea gives birth to our child. Reno needs to be home when Rosa gives birth, so the way the big shots keep us waiting is making the both of us extremely angry. Reno just huffs in response and I can sense his tension about the subject hovering over him.

  "Alright, I can take out three of them cleanly while Martinez and Chief go in the front," I can hear Timmons reply, French acknowledging. Reno and I both get to our hands and knees, our M-4s at the ready.

  "And I can get four near you and Black, LT," Uclid chimes in. I wouldn't want two other guys at my back other than him and Timmons. They have eyes like hawks and could shoot a pea off an elephant from a thousand yards. French issues the command to move in, and Reno and I nod at each other, pounding knuckles like we always do before doing work.

  Like shadows, we slink through the jungle brush, coming to a stop behind a large fallen tree right by the front gate. There are two heavily armed men pacing in front of the chain link gate, dressed in green and khaki camouflage.

  "On the fly, Chief," Timmons issues two seconds before his first shot connects with the head of one of the pacing men. Reno and I rush the gate with our guns up and ready. Timmons' second shot whizzes past my right shoulder just as the second man turns, the force of it throwing him back onto his ass with barely a sound. Further into madness we push.

  I can hear three shots ring out off to my left, but Reno and I keep moving forward, toward the main building. I can see Black, French, and Talbot advancing toward us out of the corner of my eye as Reno and I take out two more guards.

  "Pickup at rendezvous, ETA six minutes," comes over the radio as Black and the others join us, huddling up against the main building. Timmons and Uclid acknowledge that they are going to hang back, so with French at the lead and Benson at the rear, we head into the building.

  The first floor is empty as we slink through it, heading up the staircase with tactical precision. I am second in line behind French, and as we come to the top landing, we both take out two guards, pushing our group past their bodies into a large office type room.

  He sits there calmly, with scales weighed down by cocaine on one side and gun powder on the other. "Gerardo Filipe?” I ask, keeping the tight stance with my Team and he nods his head. "Estamos con el Gobierno de Estados Unidos y viene con nosotros." We are with the government of the United States; come with us. Benson and Talbot move forward and secure him with plastic cuffs; yanking him from his seat before we form a circle around them.

  "Timmons, what's it look like?” French asks, moving our group back toward the roof exit. Just as we hit the fresh air, gun shots ring out, filling the jungle around us. All of us crouch down in reaction and my eyes dart around, trying to find the source.

  "Fuck," we hear Timmons issue and my nerves go on alert. "We're pinned down, LT; they came out of nowhere." A stream of gunshots rings out and I jump into action.

  I can't leave my friends, my brothers, down there to be taken out. Pulling my repelling rope from my belt, I quickly rig it for descent; throwing it around one of the concrete pillars jutting from the roof.

  I see Reno go to join me and I stop him with a hand on his arm. "Stay here and cover me," I say over the gunshots, and he nods his head, crouching down by the edge and firing down into the jungle. I can see Timmons and Uclid posted up behind a burnt out Jeep only feet from the gate. With the gunshots flying over their heads there is no way they could get to us without taking a bullet or two.

  As I’m repelling down the side of the building, my Team offers cover fire, and I hear over the radio, "Pickup Team ETA two minutes." Our helicopter escorts will be here soon. I need to get to Timmons and Uclid fast.

  "Timmons, Uclid, are either of you hurt?" I ask, weaving through the debris strewn grounds toward the gate, firing off rounds as I go.

  "Negative, Chief," Uclid replies, and I can see him roll to his stomach and fire from under the burnt out Jeep that is their cover. Getting up behind an abandoned van right next to the gate, I pull a grenade from my vest.

  "Deploying frag grenade; be ready to run." I look over the hood of the van, making eye contact with Timmons as he reloads his M-4, and he nods. "Be ready, French." I look back to the building and can barely see my hidden Team, except for the gunshots that they are covering my ass with.

  "Ready,” I hear him issue and I pull the pin, tossing it out and over the gate, to the other side of the burnt Jeep. The explosion makes my ears ring for a split second, but I shake it off as Timmons and Uclid hustle to my side. The gunshots from the jungle have stopped for a second, so I motion for them to go ahead of me, keeping my face toward the jungle as we make our way to the building.

  "Hus
tle your ass, Chief!" I hear Reno say a second before gunshots meet my the dirt at my feet. Bringing my gun up, I pick off a man running my way, laying him out right at the gate as I turn and slam the door shut. Up those damn stairs one more time, Timmons, Uclid, and I weave out onto the roof just as the helicopters come into view. Their blades kick up the dirt and heat that has surrounded us for the last couple of hours.

  French, Benson, and Talbot get in the helicopter with our captive as the rest of us pile into the other, bound for Guantanamo Bay for only a few hours before heading back to our desert base. When we are finally out over the jungle, I snap my helmet off, resting it in my lap, leaning my head back against the wall of the humming helicopter.

  "You almost got your ass peppered, Chief.” I turn to see Reno strip his helmet and give me a half angry look.

  I know that look. It's the same look I use to give Randy when he would do stupid shit while out on missions. I used to joke with him that if he didn't shape up, that one time I would let the enemy shoot him in the ass. Thinking about it makes a smile try and quirk up on my face as I look over at Reno and his serious air. "Yeah, but you had my back, bro."

  "You're one lucky perra that I had your back," he says, and Timmons laughs, as the others join in. I just shake my head and elbow Reno in the side, getting a punch back and a laugh and I know he's over that angry feeling. Timmons starts to talk animatedly about something as I zone out, picking out that old Polaroid from my vest pocket and peering down at it.

  It makes my heart ache; this perfect childhood scene of Randy, Rhea, and I. I had been hopelessly in love with her then, when we were only kids in feety pajamas. There are few words that could explain the amount of love I have for that woman now. I am so damn happy that I have finally let her know, placing my heart in her hands, and I am even more happy because she has embraced it, wearing my ring; and now she is going to give me a child.

  Who am I to deserve such a love? Who am I to deserve such a woman? I still don’t see why Rhea loves me, but I'm damn happy she does. I don't know what I'd do without her now. I can't wait to get back to the desert and talk with her. It's been a long four weeks since the last time I saw her beautiful face, and I bet she's worried as hell not hearing from me.

  "Heads up boys," French's voice comes over the radio and I press my ear pierce in to hear it better. "Command says we'll be sent out again when we get to GB. Looks like the desert will have to wait a lil' longer for us." Great, I think angrily. Looking around the cab of the helicopter I see the frustration on my Team mate’s faces.

  "Here we go again, bro," Reno says, giving me a tired look.

  "Yup," is all I can say, resting my head back, squeezing that old picture in my gloved hand. I love you, Rhea, I think, and I shut my eyes to hopefully dream of her.

  ~~~~~~~~~

  Rhea

  July 1, 2012

  "He's jus draggin' it out today, ain't he?” Dana leans over and whispers in my ear, making me stifle my giggle so that those in the pews around us don't hear. Pastor Williams is seemingly going on and on about second chances and forgiveness today, and the heat is starting to get to Dana and me both. I am 22 weeks and definitely showing now, my bump sticking out promptly in my light green and white maxi sundress.

  It is funny how people just come up and touch my stomach, all the while asking me questions about Chad and whether I know what I’m having. I don't. They haven't been able to get a good angle on the sonogram to determine whether it is a boy or girl. Another thing is that I haven't felt it move yet, even though on the ultrasounds it's jumping around like crazy. Doc Young tells me not to worry and that I probably am feeling it, but that I don't recognize it. I sigh and lean back against the wooden pew, fanning myself with the lyrics list from my bible.

  Seeing the pastor bow his head for the final prayer, I reach over for Dana's offered hand, gripping it lightly while I listen to the man's words of faith. I issue the 'Amen' with everyone else as Dana squeezes my hand. We sit, hand in hand, until almost everyone is out of the church, meeting up with Dana's friend, Lily Jacks, at the door.

  "Rhea, Honey," she drawls out, her hands on my shoulders as she draws me into a hug. "How are you? You look absolutely beautiful. You are glowin'."

  "Well thank you, Lily," I say, kissing her on the cheek as she releases me. A shy smile crosses my lips as she moves her hands to my stomach, but I welcome the attention by placing my hands lightly over hers.

  "I feel amazing. Dana is keepin' a good eye on me." I wink, and Lily laughs, wrapping Dana in a one armed hug as we say our goodbyes to Pastor Williams. Dana has really been a God-send, watching over me and keeping me company when my friends are busy with work and other responsibilities. My work schedule has lightened to nine until four Monday through Friday so I have more time at home, so I have more time to kill.

  Descending the white washed steps of our little church, the heat of July smacks me in the face, drawing sweat to my skin almost immediately. It is only ten in the morning, but according to the thermometer hanging from the telephone pole right near Dana's Malibu, it's already eighty degrees out.

  "Where are y'all headed?" Lily asks with her arm linked with Dana's.

  "Our usual," Dana smiles at me, "the grocery, and then back home to relax."

  Lily nods to her as I open my door, reaching in to roll down my window. Dana would prefer to crank up the AC, but lately the smell of it makes me nauseous. Our house has central air so I keep it at seventy so that it doesn’t kick on all the time, but I had Duke take out the window AC Harlan had put in a couple of weeks ago. I like to let the fresh night air in while I sleep.

  I barely recognize that the two women are chatting away as I slip off into a day dream, musing over the confusing nature of Duke’s and my friendship. The last couple of weeks I've been seeing more of him; taking rides in his truck with him, just the two of us tearing up the back roads. He's brought me Chinese food and pieces of his Aunt Janice's pies on random days, saying he knew that I'd like them and, well, he is always right. We've spent hours just sitting by the small pond out behind my house as I talk his ear off about how nervous I am about the baby, but he just sits there and listens, adding sly comments every now and then. I've lied numerous times to Kendall and Harlan to prevent arguments between us about Duke.

  He hasn't come on to me or anything like that, but there have been a few instances where his hand has lingered on my knee, or he has swept the hair back out of my face and his fingers brush my neck and it sends a weak feeling of disgust and foreboding throughout my limbs. I shake it off every time as just a caution from my heart, and I tell Duke to watch himself, in a joking manner, and we both laugh it off as he apologizes with a smile.

  I shake it off now as Dana climbs into the driver's seat, saying goodbye to Lily. Our trip to Channing's Chuck Wagon is short as we did a big trip a couple of days ago, but as always I ogle over the ice cream aisle, this time taking four containers up to the cashier. Tracie Kindle is working like always, and she talks excitedly about her and Kendall's plans for mine and Rosa's baby shower. I just let the teen girl chatter away as she rings our purchase out.

  "Alright, I'll talk to ya later, Trace," I say, giving her a hug as Dana leads a bag boy out to her car. "Remember, Friday night, bonfire at my house." I pat her on the shoulder and her green eyes sparkle as she giggles and nods. "Oh and I talked to Lindsey, she should be comin', too," at that she gives me a big hug.

  "Oh, that's great, Rhea. I know she'll like being around all you guys. She’s even been talkin’ to Kendall over the phone the last week or two, planning your shower." Tracie hops back behind the register to help the next person.

  "That's great." I smile and turn slowly, enjoying the AC of the store before stepping out into the heat. It makes my heart feel good that Kendall is mending a bridge with Lindsey Kindle, and that they are planning my shower. Of course, Rosa is having her family help, too, but we figured we should do it together to get two birds with one stone. It is going to be a hell of a
time this way.

  On the way back to our homes, Dana is singing away with Reba McEntire as I text Rosa, asking how her weekend is going and just checking in. We talk every day after I get home from work, not counting the numerous text messages between us while at work. She is turning out to be a fantastic friend and a great source of support. Sure, we have our moments when we miss our men and break down and cry with each other, but that is just it, we have each other. We have friends, we have family, but we have each other, and I know how she feels, just like she knows how I feel.

  Putting the groceries away in Dana's homey kitchen, we chat about baby names and things I still need to buy, or ask for on my registry. Standing by the sink, filling a pitcher to make iced tea, I feel a fast flutter in my stomach, and my hand flies to the spot as a gasp escapes my lips.

  "What? What's wrong; are you okay?" Dana is right at my elbow as a smile crosses my face. "Rhea?"

  "I felt it!” I whisper, grabbing her hand and placing it beneath mine. "I felt it!” I say as the tears start to well on my lashes. It was a small gurgle of movement and I hold her hand under mine, praying that it will repeat itself and prove not to be gas. It does, stronger this time, and Dana almost jumps back, but her hand stays put. I can see the tears running down her cheeks as she looks up to me, her hand over her mouth and nose, trembling slightly. I lock eyes with her and for what feels like hours we just stand there, her hand under mine, covering my stomach.

  The movement happens a third time and Dana surprises me with a loud squeal, releasing the hold she has on my stomach to do a happy dance around the kitchen. She claps her hands numerous times, wiggling her butt and tapping the toes of her Keds on the hardwood. I can't help but giggle along with her, the tears streaming down my cheeks in joy. She pulls her cell from her purse on the counter and I say, "Who are you callin'?"