Meant for Her

by Amy Gamet

  Leaning over the body, the last time she would touch this man, she reached around his legs in an awkward embrace. She stealthily slipped the gun from its hiding spot beneath his trouser leg.

  Barstow ordered her to stand up, as she knew he would. She bent at the waist, hiding the gun, until she nearly reached her full height and turned on him.

  His face fell when he saw what she had found, his eyes hardening as he began to raise his own weapon.

  Julie fired three bullets, each of them seeming to hang in midair. Barstow’s head twisted at a horrible angle, blood splattering onto the wall behind him in a predetermined design.

  He fell to the ground, dead.

  The sound of his body hitting the floor was grotesque. For some moments she stared at his form, unable to comprehend what had happened. She looked up, gazing at the pattern of blood on the wall, realizing she stood in the presence of God. She fell to her knees.

  Thank you for saving me.

  Someone pushed the door behind her furiously into her father’s body, and for a while Julie just watched. She heard Hank call her name, finally moving from her stupor to pull at her father’s weight and allow Hank entry. He rushed in, his hands running up and down her body. Julie could hear sirens. She could see his lips moving, but she wasn’t focused on the words.

  For now, there was just the blood on the wall, the floor under her knees, and the awe in her exhausted spirit.

  Chapter 14

  “I think you’re a complete asshole.”

  Julie walked by her, carrying an armful of folded towels, and put them in the trunk of her car. It was already loaded with several turquoise duffel bags, a pillow and a worn lavender comforter. “You’re entitled to your opinion, Becky.”

  She never did unpack the things she brought to the loft apartment, quietly nodding when the officer explained they would be tagged as evidence and held for at least thirty days.

  Shopping seemed like a better idea.

  Reaching into her jacket pocket, she took out her keys before letting the warm down parka slip from her shoulders.

  “This is for you.” She handed the coat to Becky.

  “Don’t go.”

  Tears threatened, fast and hot against her lashes. “I’m leaving,” she insisted, her voice a desperate rasp.

  “Hank loves you. Hell, I love you.”

  Julie opened her arms and hugged her tight. “I love you, too.” Slowly, she let her arms fall away from her friend. She climbed behind the wheel, numbly starting the engine. “I’ll call you when I get where I’m going.”

  Red blotches mottled Becky’s ivory skin. “I’ll miss you.”

  “Enjoy that promotion. You deserve it.”

  She nodded, tears running freely down her face. “Drive safe, you stupid crazy bitch.”

  “I will.”

  Julie closed the door against the cold winter air and turned the key in the ignition. With a sad smile and a wave at her best friend, she pulled away from the curb and headed toward the interstate. Relief percolated through her mind, bringing with it the first real peace she’d experienced in what seemed like weeks.

  After the incident, as she had come to refer to it, Hank had driven her to the police station in his SUV. He seemed to understand that she needed to be left alone. Julie was interviewed, and when she emerged she was grateful to find only Gwen waiting to take her home, a book of Sudoku puzzles in her lap.

  “Hank said to tell you he loves you. He had some work to take care of in D.C.”

  And she knew.

  The military was Hank’s life, and it was the antithesis of hers. It was crazy to believe they could make it work.

  She would be gone before he ever returned.

  ~~~

  Moon Lake glistened silver in the morning sunshine, the Adirondack Mountains frozen in waves of purple and blue on the horizon. Hank pushed the lawn mower over his mother’s rolling property, the noise from its engine drowning out all other sounds. The muscles of his arms and back reveled in the exercise, while his mind enjoyed the simple monotony.

  Anything to keep from thinking about Julie.

  He’d gone looking for her when he got back from D.C., only to find a For Sale sign in front of her condo. The dread in his belly clawed at his insides as he drove toward Becky’s house, fearing he knew what she was going to say.

  “She’s gone, Hank.”

  “Where?”

  Becky stood in the doorway of her bungalow, gazing at the horizon. “South. Someplace warm.” She looked at her feet, then back at him. “I told her not to go. Actually, I told her she was an asshole, but she went anyway.”

  “Do you have a number for her? An address?”

  “I do,” she bit her lip, “but I can’t give it to you, Hank. I’m sorry.”

  He stepped backwards away from the door, down the walk, reeling from the events of the last hour. When did she leave? Why hadn’t he been here for her when she was making that decision? In his heart he believed he could have stopped her, convinced her to stay.

  “Tell her I love her, Becky,” he said, his throat knotted with emotion.

  “She knows.”

  “Just tell her.” He pivoted on his heel and headed back to his car, not knowing where he would go or what he would do. He only knew he would go out of his mind if he couldn’t get to her, couldn’t talk to her, couldn’t touch her.

  He finished mowing and released the safety bar, shutting off the engine. He pushed the mower back to the garden shed behind the house, finding his mother inside, potting up plants.

  “Hey, Ma.”

  “Hey, yourself.”

  “Lawn’s done.”

  “Thanks.” She scooped a handful of potting soil around the bare roots of a hosta.

  Hank rolled the machine into its spot next to the wall. “I’m going to Vermont.”

  “What for?”

  He put his hands on his hips. “I’m going to ask Gwen for Julie’s address. What’s the worst that can happen? She won’t tell me?”

  Marianne put the pot aside and picked up an empty one. “It’s about time, Hank. Give Gwen my love.”

  ~~~

  The ringing of the doorbell set the dogs to barking as Gwen rolled the damp mass of spongy dough in cracked wheat berries. She set it in a wicker basket to proof, the final rise before baking on the stone she had heating in the oven.

  She washed the flour from her hands and dried them on a fluffy red towel as she walked to the door. A warm spring breeze blew in through the windows, carrying with it the sound of wind chimes from the front porch. Gwen opened the heavy door to find Hank Jared standing with his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

  “Hi, Gwen.”

  A warm smile lit her face as she opened the screen for him. “Hank! Come inside.” She opened her arms to him for an embrace of genuine affection. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You too.”

  She walked into the kitchen, beckoning him to follow. “I was just finishing up some baking. Can I get you something to drink? I have some fresh iced tea.”

  “That would be great.” It smelled like cookies as he walked into the kitchen and sat down at the island. “You can probably guess why I’m here.”

  “Becky managed to hold out and not give you Julie’s address.” She reached into the refrigerator to grab the pitcher of tea. “She wasn’t sure she’d be able to do it.”

  “I need to see her, Gwen.”

  “Yes, I know you do.” She grabbed a couple of chocolate chip cookies from the cooling rack and put them on a plate in front of him. “To be honest, I expected you to contact me sooner.”

  Hank put both hands around his iced tea, looking into the glass. “When I found out she was gone, I thought there must be some misunderstanding. She wouldn’t just leave without telling me where she was going. So I went to Becky’s.” He looked her in the eye. “That’s when I realized she hadn’t just left town, she’d left me.”

  Gwen looked into his deeply troubled ey
es, her heart going out to him. He’d lost weight, but more than that he lost the warm glow that used to shine from his spirit.

  “She’s in South Carolina.” Reaching into a tall cherry cupboard, she got herself a glass and filled it with the brew. “After she got out of the hospital, she spent one night at Becky’s, then just packed up and drove away. I don’t think she even set foot in her old condo, except to get her cat. She called a woman who does estate sales and a Realtor and that was that.”

  “Can I have the address?”

  She nodded, taking out a fabric address book from a drawer and copying it onto a small sheet of paper. She held it out to him.

  “Be patient with her, Hank. I love her more than anyone, but running away is the only way she knows how to deal with her problems. Julie has never learned how to stay.”

  “Well then, I guess I’ll have to teach her.”

  “I wish you luck, my friend,” she said, smiling warmly.

  Hank reached out and pulled her close for another hug. “Thank you, Gwen.”

  “Take some cookies. It’s a very long drive.”

  ~~~

  Julie stood in the sunny yellow kitchen cutting slices of avocado, an orange tiger cat purring at her feet. A vibrant plate painted with red and blue daisies was laden with salad greens, its edges chipped from age. She added chunks of blue cheese and crumbled bits of bacon strips, haphazardly covering the pile with pieces of hard boiled egg and cold grilled chicken.

  Grabbing a pitcher of freshly squeezed lemonade, she headed out the kitchen door and onto the screened porch, the humid air instantly covering the smooth glass with a fog of condensation.

  This house had been a haven for Julie, a small painted lady with a pinky-red exterior and yellow shutters. The porch overlooked a lush garden bursting with plump vegetables, and a glorious weeping willow she imagined had been planted by the original owners.

  She filled her days walking in the sun, weeding her garden, or reading on the porch. It was only at night that the dreams of him came, sure as the moon rose into the sky. She lay in his arms, desire a living, breathing animal with a will of its own. Steeped in his scent, she surrendered to her lover once more, every touch marking her his, every emotion connecting their spirits.

  With the sunrise and consciousness came a rededication to live without him, to keep her tears inside, to plan a future without Hank Jared. Some days, she even thought it was possible.

  She sat eating her salad, swaying in a white wooden rocker, unaware that some bites had more chicken, others too much egg. She didn’t move when the doorbell rang, assuming it must be a delivery man or solicitor, and not caring to engage either one.

  “Julie.”

  He was standing at the corner of the house, next to the white rosebush. She stopped rocking and stared at him, shockingly handsome in khaki shorts and a fitted polo shirt. She hastily finished chewing the salad in her mouth and set the bowl aside, slowing rising.

  “I couldn’t stay away.” He took a step toward her. “I tried to, but I missed you so damn much.”

  Emotions came raging to the surface, choking her. She covered her mouth with her hands. He moved more swiftly now, covering the distance that separated them, coming onto the porch, his eyes never leaving hers. Then he was there, his arms around her, her face pressed into his neck, his scent surrounding her.

  “Oh, Hank.”

  He stepped back, holding her face in his hands and watching the emotions play over her features. “Don’t leave me again, okay?” She nodded as he covered her face with kisses. “Don’t do that to me. We belong together.”

  He bent his head to hers as she reached for him, their lips meeting and melding, becoming one. Her arms clutched at him, pulling him tighter against her body as heat surged through her belly, fluid and warm.

  She led him into the house, up the stairs to her bedroom.

  Everything she had run from reared to life inside her, the fervent hopes and dreams of this love, of this man, coursing through her body. She opened herself to him, her mind and soul, allowing the love she felt to flow freely, uninhibited and proud.

  There was a truth between them that was remarkable and strong despite their separation, and she reveled in their passion, seeing for the first time that their love for each other was honest and good, and could see them through the darkness.

  Hank Jared was meant for her, like a flower was meant for the sun.

  And she knew. She was going to hold on to this man forever.

  ~~~

  Julie cuddled up to Hank’s back and threw her leg over his. They had been making love and sleeping, on and off for the past twelve hours.

  “I don’t even know where you live,” she said, giggling.

  He cleared his throat. “With my mom.”

  “You do not.”

  He turned his head into the pillow. “Actually, at the moment I do.”

  “Why?”

  He rolled onto his back, lifting his arm for her to snuggle closer. “I used to keep an apartment in D.C., but I wasn’t there enough to say so. I gave it up when I resigned my commission. Then I couldn’t bring myself to get another place without…”

  She interrupted. “When you what?”

  “Resigned my commission. I left the Navy, Julie.”

  “What? When?”

  “When I went to D.C. for my debriefing after Barstow died.”

  She sat up, pulling the sheet up to cover herself. “Because of me? They made you resign because of me?”

  “They didn’t make me resign. I quit.”

  “But why?” She waved her hand at him. “You love the Navy. The military’s everything to you!”

  “No, Julie. You are everything to me.” He caressed her cheek. “The Navy was just a job.”

  She threw the blankets back and strode to the bathroom.

  “I did it to make you happy,” he yelled after her.

  She stomped back into the room, tying a light blue robe around her waist. “Well, why the hell didn’t you ask me first? You just go and quit the Navy like it’s freakin’ Burger Hut and expect me to be grateful?”

  He put his hands up. “Wait. What’s happening here? You hate the Navy. You couldn’t stand that I was an officer. Does any of this ring a bell? You didn’t want to be involved with me because of the Navy.”

  “I didn’t want you to quit, Hank.”

  “I got that. But I don’t understand why.”

  “Forget it. Just forget it.” She paced the room. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

  She turned and headed for the porch, the cool night air smelling of rain. She sat in her rocker, mentally daring him to follow her. When he did not, she let her shoulders drop and took a deep breath, the pungent smell of honeysuckle only now permeating her awareness.

  The buzzing of cicadas mixed with the chirp of frogs and the steady rhythm of her rocking chair. Her body cooled along with her temper, and she began to feel sorry for fighting with Hank.

  How could he think that leaving the Navy would make her happy? She didn’t want him to give up what he cared about. Her father was the traitor, the murderer and the psychopath. It was her problem, and she should be the one to pay the price for it. Not Hank.

  An hour passed before she saw him standing in the doorway, and she stopped moving.

  “May I join you?”

  She nodded.

  He sat in the wooden porch swing across the way, his muscular arm draped across the back in artful silhouette.

  “I’m sorry I got so upset,” she said.

  “Can you explain it to me?”

  She set her chair to rocking. “I don’t want you to sacrifice something you love for me.”

  He was quiet for a moment, and she waited to see what he would say. “Why not?”

  “It makes me uncomfortable.”

  “Julie, that’s what people who love each other do.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “Sure, it is. They sacrifice and they comprom
ise, they bend over backwards to make each other happy. That’s what it means to be in a committed relationship.”

  He made it sound so rational, so reasonable. She had never been in love before. Her parents had never gone to such lengths to make each other happy.

  Okay, bad example.

  Her eyes began to burn as the truth made its way to her lips. “I don’t deserve it.”

  He was up in an instant, kneeling before her chair, grabbing her hands and holding them in his own. “You do,” he said, kissing each palm. “And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to prove it to you.”

  She leaned over, her forehead resting against his as she cried. Was it possible that this incredible man knew everything about her past, and loved her anyway?

  “Will you let me, Julie? Let me show you how much you deserve it, how much we both do?” He reached up and gently put his hand on her neck. “Will you be my wife?”

  “I’m not good at this, Hank. I don’t know what a healthy marriage looks like.”

  “We’ll learn together, Julie. We’ll figure it out as we go.”

  All the women in the world, and he wants to marry me.

  A sob escaped as she nodded. “Yes, Hank. Yes, I’ll be your wife.”

  ~~~

  Thank you for reading Meant for Her.

  ~~~

  The following is an excerpt from Meghan and Liam’s story:

  Love’s Greatest Gift: A Christmas Novella

  (Book Two in the Love & Danger Series)

  On sale October 15, 2012 exclusively at Amazon.com for $.99

  ~~~

  Chapter One

  1997

  Meghan O'Connor had been in love with Liam Wheaton since as long as she could remember.

  Her parents had done what they could to stop it, carefully erasing his name from the birthday party invitation list and failing to pass on phone messages when they intercepted his calls. But Largo was a small town, with only one class at each grade level, and ten months out of the year Liam and Meghan spent six hours a day together.