The drive went by quickly as they listened to the radio, shared their favorite memories, and flirted the way only newlyweds so drunk with love can. It was past noon when they reached their destination in Fairbanks. After a late breakfast at a small diner very much reminiscent of the ones they’d frequented back home in Texas, they made their way to the Chena Hot Springs.
If someone had told Deborah she’d be donning her bathing suit in thirty-below weather, she’d have told them they were crazy. Yet here they were, preparing for a relaxing soak in the exposed winter air. But that wasn’t all she had planned for them…
“Remember the night you proposed to me?” she asked.
“And you ran away?” He laughed, then looped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in tight to his chest. “Sorry, not my best memory.”
His slippery skin felt so good against her own, making her even more excited about what she planned to suggest.
“Hey, I came back! I said yes! But before then, when we…” Her eyes darted toward the water below.
“Oh no, Deborah. You couldn’t possibly—!”
His protest was cut short when she slipped her shoulders under the water and eased out of her swimming costume. She handed it to him in a tight ball. “Your turn,” she whispered.
* * *
As the day marched on, Rip felt the grip of his shell shock ease loose. If ever there were a cure for what ailed him, his sweet, kooky wife was it. Didn’t matter the ailment, either. Deborah was good for his soul, plain and simple.
He often wished he could be as devil-may-care as she, and, much to his surprise, found himself getting closer and closer to joining her there. She’d suggested the naked dip, but it was he who’d found the isolated spring where they could make love within the ancient waters.
The day passed far too quickly, but then again, every day with Deborah did. Luckily, they still had forever stretched out before them.
Her eyes glinted with thinly veiled mischief as they surveyed the surrounding mountains. She pointed to a vast lake on the horizon. “Remember cliff diving? We should go—”
“No.”
“You didn’t let me finish,” she pouted.
He sniggered and motioned for her to continue.
“We should go cliff diving next. What do you say?”
He laughed even louder. “Exactly what I was going to say earlier. If we dive now, we’ll both break our necks. The lakes are ice this time of year!”
She blew a raspberry. “A technicality!”
Rip drew Deborah into his arms and kissed her forehead. “What else do you have planned for us?”
“Well, I can’t exactly say it the right way, so I’m going to spell it once, and then you just have to accept that I’m going to mispronounce it, okay?”
He kissed her again, pulling her to him, and feeling his desire surge for a third time that day.
Deborah bit his lip playfully then pulled away. “Hey, don’t distract me. It’s hard enough to spell, let alone say. We’re going to take a nice hike and see the I-N-U-K-S-U-K-S. Or as I prefer to call them, the In-nuk-nuks.”
“The In… nuk-nuks?”
“Precisely! C’mon, I’ll show you what I mean.”
They returned to the fitting rooms and put on their long underwear and warm sweaters once more.
“It isn’t far from here,” she said. “Take my hand. We’ll walk it.”
“So the inuksuks,” Rip said, figuring out the pronunciation of the strange Inuit word.
Deborah shook her head. “No, I told you, we’re going to call them the in-nuk-nuks, because I can’t say it the other way, and I don’t want to feel silly all by myself.”
He laughed, just as he always did when Deborah was near. “Okay, the in-nuk-nuks.”
She nodded. “Good. Continue.”
“What are they?”
“They’re kind of like little baby Stone Henges. Do you remember studying Stone Henge in school? These are the ones the Eskimos make. They’re a bit shorter, but there are so many more. Look!” She pointed in the distance. “See it?”
“Ahh, yes. Neat. What were they built for?”
“All kinds of reasons, really, but my favorite is as landmarks. They were built to show you the way.”
They stood for a moment, two small figures amongst the vast, imposing winter landscape.
“Wait there,” Deborah instructed, placing a hand on each of his shoulders and pushing down to root him in place. “And close your eyes.”
He did as he’d been told, remembering their cliff dive once again. He’d obeyed, but had still found a way to chance a peek at her exposed form in all its untouched glory. Now he listened as her feet slapped across the field.
When at last she spoke again, her voice sounded very far away. “Okay, open up!”
She stood beside the inuksuk with a hand on one of its many stones.
He smiled and began to jog toward her, but she waggled her finger wildly at him.
“Not so fast! Stay right where you are, and I mean it!” When she saw that he’d complied, she continued. “Like I said, the in-nuk-nuks were built to show you the way. And, Rip, darling, I know sometimes it’s hard to let go of the past, especially when there’s so much you regret, but as I tried to show you today, the past is also chock full of beautiful memories too. And all those memories, both terrifying and terrific, are gone. We’ve already lived them. Listen to the in-nuk-nuks. They know where to go.” She opened her arms wide, inviting him in. “Come to this guide post. Come to me, to our future together as lovers, as husband and wife, and as… parents.”
He couldn’t move, though it was not for ice encroaching upon him, but rather, a creeping warmth that started at his heart and flowed outward. “What did you say?” he asked, just to be sure.
“Rip…”
He could see her eyes sparkling with the beginnings of tears, felt the same joy prick at his own eyes.
“We’re going to have a baby.”
And he was off. Never had his legs moved as fast as they did on that day to bring him to his wife and their child within her—his entire future in one neat, little package with blonde, curly hair and the world’s most gorgeous smile. They stood there embracing for a long time, whispering declarations of love, stating their dreams for the future, and just basking in the grandness of being together.
At last the northern lights joined them, glowing green and proud against the night sky and marking a beautiful new chapter of their lives, one Rip couldn’t wait for them to experience together.
Always together.
I’ll Never Stop Loving You
Chapter 1
Green had never been Rico’s color. Yet, here he was dressed in it head to toe, ready to fight and die by a color that had never done him any favors—for a country that had let him down every bit as much.
“Don’t go,” Gloria whispered in her brother’s ear so as not to upset their younger siblings. “You don’t have to go.”
His eyes searched hers and he spoke softly. “But, mi hermana, don’t you understand? If I do this, things could change for all of us. It’s just a couple years of my life. Then all our lives will be better. We could be citizens, Gloria. Think of how much easier things will be then.”
She forced a smile. Rico had always been too optimistic for his own good. Didn’t he know he could die cold and alone halfway across the world? And for what? The chance that maybe maybe—because it wasn’t even a full-fledged promise—they could become citizens of a country that would still discriminate against them for their tan skin and south-of-the-border accents?
Still, Rico needed her support now. He’d already made up his mind, and the last thing he needed was to be distracted on the battlefield by any lingering worries. He needed to fight like hell and come home alive and free. Who was she to say the government wouldn’t deliver upon its hints at citizenship?
“Come back safe, Ricardo.” Somehow using his full name felt like offering a blessing. She squeezed hi
m tightly, then watched as he turned and walked into the admin building and out of his family’s sight.
Her younger brothers stood silently—a rare sight—while her mother murmured a Hail Mary under her breath and clutched at her rosary like a security blanket. Papa couldn’t take the time off work, not even to bid his son farewell.
They stood and stared at the closed door for what felt like a very long time. Finally Gloria wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulders and said, “Come, Mama, let’s get you out of this cold.”
It didn’t matter that the temperatures were in the high seventies or that somehow the simple, closed door made them all feel closer to Rico. The exertion of this outing had already begun to take its toll on her ailing mother. The prayers now came out raspy with long pauses in between each line as she struggled to catch her breath.
Gloria offered one herself and tried not to think about everything that could go wrong for Rico, for Mama, for all of them.
Oh, what would she ever do without her brother?
* * *
Everything about his new quarters felt different. Sure, it was set to Air Force regulations. The furniture—if you could call it that—looked the same, the walls were the same boring shade of egg white, but still it felt different. The air smelled of tobacco mixed with soggy plant life, and boy, was it humid. The sun didn’t shine quite as bright either, as if it too knew there was a war on and didn’t want to fully open its eyes to see the carnage.
But things wouldn’t be so bad.
He told himself he’d become an airman because of his love of flying. But, truth be told, an even larger part of him wanted to avoid the realness of up-close combat. Dropping bombs from a safe distance, he could do—but looking into the bloodshot, sleep-deprived eyes of the enemy as he gunned him down across the field? No, he was far too afraid of what he’d learn about the enemy, about his fellow soldiers, and—most of all—about himself.
All that would start tomorrow. Tonight, he only had to find a way to get some sleep in this strange new place. A place he’d either be leaving as a decorated hero or as stuffing for a body bag.
James sank onto the thin plastic mattress. The springs sighed beneath his weight, but otherwise held steady.
“You ready to go get them commies?” Tommy Morrison, his friend from back home, asked as he scribbled away at a notebook in his lap.
“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose. What you got there?”
Tommy held up the notebook and flipped through a few pages. “Letter to Diana. I want her to know we arrived all right.”
James grinned. “You’re going to marry that girl, aren’t you?”
“Soon as we secure victory.” He tore a couple pages from the spiral pad and handed them to James. “Here. May as well write your girl a letter, too. Deborah, is it?”
He accepted the pages and grabbed a pen from his pack. “Thanks. Just my luck to find the perfect girl the night before deployment, isn’t it? Think she’ll wait for me?”
“Who’d wait for a buffoon like you?” Tommy laughed as he continued to scribble away at his notebook. “Nah, you know I’m only giving you a hard time. Of course, she’ll wait, Jimmy.”
James smiled as he pictured Deborah running into his arms at the airport the moment he arrived back on U.S. soil, her blond curls bouncing as she shook her head with laughter, her cherry lips eagerly searching him out, saddling him with a whole battalion of long-awaited kisses.
But what could he say to her now? He didn’t want to write unless he found something romantic, profound, or, heck, even informative to say. However, words did not come easy as the nib of his ink pin floated hopefully above the blank page.
Why was this so difficult?
He ran his fingers up and down the sides of his bed as he thought. The cool metal framing beneath his mattress felt good against his warm skin. Suddenly, his hand snagged on something decidedly not metal.
“Tommy, I think there’s something under here.” James said as he stooped down on the floor and lifted the mattress for a better look.
“Ah-ha.” He quickly found the tattered picture one of the previous residents had, no doubt, left behind and showed it to his bunkmate.
“Pretty. Who do you think she is?” Tommy tossed the photo back to James.
“Careful, would ya?” James took a moment to study the large walnut shaped eyes, the full lips, and dark hair of the exotic beauty in the photo. “Maybe somebody’s girl back home, but why would he leave it here?”
“I reckon it wasn’t on purpose. He probably…”
“Yeah.” A moment of silence passed between them as they both thought of what had likely happened to the photo’s previous owner. What could very well happen to either of them.
After a few beats, James broke the far-too-serious silence. “I think I’ll hang on to this,” he announced, tucking the photo into his pack. “A lucky charm.”
“Suit yourself.” Tommy set his pen to the page once again, tuning his friend out.
James leaned back on the mattress and put his arms behind his head. While the discovery of the photo had been exciting, he still had no idea what he was going to write to Deborah. Maybe things would come clearer in the morning.
With time he drifted off to sleep. Dreams, not of his sweetheart all the way back home, but of the mysterious beauty from the photo, greeted him as he slumbered in the strange bunk.
Chapter 2
Gloria patted her hands with flour and rolled out a fresh tortilla while her younger brothers ran around the room playing cowboys and Indians. Papa had left for work before the sun had risen, and Mama, who wasn’t feeling good, had taken to resting in the back room. That meant it was up to her to make the meals for the day and take care of the house before heading off to her shift at the factory. Life was never boring; that much was for certain.
She dropped the circular swatch of dough onto the skillet and rolled out another as she waited for it to cook. Humming to herself helped the work go by faster and made her obligations enjoyable rather than a burden.
“Gloria, Gloria!” Her brothers came tearing into the kitchen, drawing dangerously near to the open flame on the stove.
“Be more careful, you hear me? You’ll catch fire.”
They broke into chuckles, but her youngest brother Pablo seemed troubled. He pulled at the seam of her shirt while the other two boys returned to their game of pretend.
“Yes, what is it?” she asked as she continued her work at the counter.
“Somebody’s at the door. I looked through the window, and it’s a man wearing a uniform like the one Ricardo had.” Having delivered his news, the boy chased after his brothers, rejoining in their laughter.
But for Gloria it was as if all the air had suddenly been sucked out of the room. Although she inhaled and exhaled, oxygen wasn’t making it into her lungs. She leaned back against the counter to steady herself and then slowly made her way over to the doorway.
This time she heard the doorbell as it sounded again.
“Be right there,” she called. She dusted her hands off on the lap of her apron then pulled hesitantly at the knob.
And just as Pablo had described, a man wearing a dress uniform stood on the front step, a folded flag tucked into the crook of his arm, a grim expression on his face.
She didn’t need to welcome the soldier inside, didn’t need to ask how she could help him, but she did anyway.
The man took his cap off as he entered, then handed her a document. “Ricardo Flores the Third fought bravely and died for his country,” he said.
Gloria scanned the document announcing the known details of Rico’s death and fought back the urge to tell the soldier this wasn’t his country, neither he nor their parents had been born on U.S. soil.
“He was wounded in battle,” the officer continued. “Died before we could get him to the medic. I’m so sorry for your loss.” He rocked on his feet from heel to toe, his hands clasped behind his back. And suddenly Gloria felt every bit as
sorry for this stranger as she did for herself. How many families had he shattered with such news during the tenure of his duty? Did it ever get any easier? She spied a trace of sorrow knitted into his brow, which told her all she needed to know.
“Thank you, Sir.” She guided him to the door and bade him goodbye. Now it was her turn to become the messenger.
Mama and Papa will be so sad, she thought. They truly hadn’t seen this coming. They’d believed Rico’s rosy view of the future, hadn’t even considered…
Pablo toddled over and buried his small face in her lap. His sobs, even while muffled by her apron, proved deafening. Somehow the little boy’s tears confirmed the soldier’s announcement, made it true that they had actually lost their eldest brother.
She knelt down and hugged him, allowing her own tears to fall. Soon her other brothers joined them in a small huddle right on the living room floor, united by the loss, their number forever down by one.
Gloria wondered if she’d ever feel whole again.
* * *
They’d put him on search and rescue along with nine other men. Tommy wasn’t one of them. James took a moment to admire the nose art of the SB-29 Superfortress they called the Saving Grace. He shot a wink at the sexy pinup of a naughty nurse before hopping in and bracing himself for takeoff. He wouldn’t be the one flying this beautiful hunk of metal. Not today anyway.
As the monoplane soared over the land, James couldn’t help but appreciate the rolling tranquility of the clouds that hung over the war zone—such beauty over such destruction. How was that for irony? But he couldn’t allow himself to get hung up on the scenery. He needed to scour the terrain below in search of the platoon that had gone missing a few days prior.
“Those yellow-bellied commies sure know how to hide,” another airman said with a Southern drawl. “Makes me wonder if they can fight.”
“I only hope we never find out,” someone else said.
Cupid's Bow: The First Generation Boxed Set Page 8
