A Soldier in Conard County Read online

  “I don’t know, exactly. She collapsed at the diner and had to be taken out by ambulance. She was still conscious, though. Beyond that I don’t know a thing.”

  “Well, that’s going to upset some applecarts around here. I can think of at least a dozen or more men who are going to hate missing their morning at Maude’s. Now they’ll actually have to stay home with their wives.”

  Miri laughed. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  “That’s because you almost never go over there in the morning before school. I do. I hear it all when I’m buying my coffee. You never heard a bunch of guys with more complaints about everything.”

  “They’re all retired, aren’t they? What else are they going to do?”

  “Beats me. Well, let me know if you hear anything about Maude.”

  “Will do.” As Miri pivoted to hang up the phone, she saw Gil standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Today he’d donned a sweatshirt with loose slacks. She wondered if restrictive clothing bothered him, because not even for the barbecue had he worn jeans. “Come on in,” she said. “Mi casa es su casa and all that. How are you this morning?”

  “Stiff but fine. Well rested, certainly.”

  That was debatable, she thought as she took in the dark circles under his eyes. “Grab a seat if you feel like sitting. Coffee?”

  “Please.”

  She went to pour him a mug, speaking over her shoulder as she did so. “I was just debating whether to make breakfast sausage or bacon to go with eggs. Any preference?”

  “Either one classifies as manna from heaven.”

  Smiling, she brought him his coffee. “Come on, they must serve that in the mess hall or whatever they call it these days.”

  “The hospital didn’t believe in fats, and by the time meals reached me they were less than lukewarm. Besides, when I wasn’t on base, I was usually dining on prepackaged meals that astronauts wouldn’t have envied.” He smiled faintly. “On my list of luxuries are hot showers and hot food.”

  “Well, you’re welcome to both here.” Reaching into the fridge, she pulled out a roll of breakfast sausage and began to make it into patties. “I haven’t heard anything about Maude yet, and I doubt the hospital would tell me a thing if I called. So I guess I have to wait.”

  “Wouldn’t Mavis call you?”

  Miri shrugged. “Who knows? She must have much more important things on her mind right now.”

  “Very likely, unless her mother’s been given a clean bill of health.”

  As soon as she finished cooking the sausage and eggs, Miri put a platter on the table and told him to help himself. He allowed he’d like a few slices of toast, so she made them the easy way, bringing her four-slice toaster to the table and working from there. She didn’t much care for cold scrambled eggs herself.

  Gil took over making the toast and buttering it for the two of them.

  “Do you have someplace of your own to live?” she asked, watching his dexterity with the toast. “Or do you live in barracks or whatever they call it now?”

  “I share an apartment with three other men. Most of the time some of us are away, so it never feels crowded. But yeah, I had my own place, sort of. Just didn’t make financial sense to get an apartment to live by myself.”

  “I can see that. Like when I was in college. Three of us shared an apartment. Unfortunately, it didn’t always work well.”

  “But they move on, don’t they? Roommates, I mean. A frequent flux.”

  As he ate, energy seemed to be returning to him, and along with it the attraction she felt. Somehow she needed to get that this was dangerous. Not that she believed he’d be abusive or anything, but Gil was a man used to being on the go, who probably wanted to return to where his unit was stationed, and who might even manage to get himself back into good enough shape that they’d consider putting him in the field again.

  Fifteen-plus years of experience had to be invaluable, and she had no idea of the extent of his injuries.

  “You know,” she remarked, “I always thought it was odd that Al never once had a serious relationship. When we were kids he seemed like the kind of guy who’d eventually want a family.”

  “Maybe he did. Women certainly fluttered around the guys. But when you have to pack up and go on a moment’s notice so often...well, I think that ruined a lot of budding relationships. Which is not to say none of us married and had kids. Just that many of us never encountered that most amazing confluence, a woman who could live with our jobs that we could also want to marry.”

  Miri smiled faintly. “I don’t think that’s easy for anyone to find, really. Maybe you guys were just more cautious.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Look at the divorce statistics in the first year of marriage. Seems like most people fly by the seat of their pants.”

  She was glad to hear him laugh. Maybe the guy was loosening up a bit.

  But she doubted he would loosen up much, if ever.

  * * *

  With the kitchen cleaned up and the day growing grayer by the moment, Miri glanced out and saw the trees beginning to toss, bearing their message of a weather change.

  “I hope you can stand being cooped up for a while,” she said to Gil as she took their coffee into the living room. “Weather’s changing, with snow this afternoon and the possibility of a blizzard.”

  “I thought it was getting colder. Do you think Al’s family will still drop in?”

  “Probably. There’s time for that.”

  “Good.”

  Today he skipped the rocking chair for the more upright gooseneck chair. He propped his cane on the arm, the curved handle hooked over it.

  “I guess you didn’t get to talk with them much yesterday. And they’re the whole reason you came out here.”

  He nodded. “I got to thinking they hadn’t seen him in a while before he was killed, and that they might want to know more about how he was, what he was doing...within the limits of operational security, of course. I know I’d have a lot of questions if I hadn’t been with him.”

  “That’s thoughtful of you.”

  “Not really. I think it’s what Al would want me to do. The fog of war extends far beyond the battlefield, to the families, who seldom get the straight dope. And I wanted to see you, too, of course.”

  She blinked. She hadn’t expected that. “Whatever for, other than that Al was my cousin?”

  Gil shook his head a little. “You stayed with me, Miri. You became part of my memories of Al. And there’s another thing.”

  “Yes?” Her heart sped up a bit as she wondered what was coming.

  “I needed to see you differently from the funeral. You were glued in my mind’s eye, a young woman so alone, grieving, and playing ‘Taps’ so bravely. A sad image. So thanks for some more cheerful ones.”

  Over the months since Al’s funeral, Miri’s grief had settled down. It never went away, and could still come in waves, but acceptance had arrived. Now, all of a sudden, she felt her eyes prickle with tears she hadn’t shed in a while. Forever, she thought. She’d miss Al forever, but in her mind and heart her memories of him would now always be wrapped in the sad strains of “Taps.”

  “I’m sorry,” Gil said swiftly. “I didn’t want to make you sad all over again.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve never stopped being sad.”

  “Sorry,” he said again. Then he rose and limped out of the living room. She expected him to go down the hall to the bedroom, but instead she heard him grab his jacket and leave through the front door.

  He was going to freeze out there, she thought almost absently. Then she let the tears come. Tears for Al. Tears for his best friend. God, life could be so cruel.

  * * *

  Outside, hip notwithstanding, Gil did his best to march along the sidewalk. The wind had grown cutting as a knife, but h
e was used to it and worse from his time in some cold mountainous countries. He tried to keep his pace even and firm, but his damaged hip still wasn’t ready to give him all the mobility he wanted. Of course, the best way to deal with any of this was to push through the pain.

  Use it. Loosen up that scar tissue and make damaged joints do their work until he had enough muscle built up to accommodate a full range of motion. At least that was the hope. The docs gave him fifty-fifty at best.

  Fifty-fifty was good enough. Gill had faced far worse odds.

  He was also beginning to wonder what he was doing here. Sure, he’d felt he might be able to answer some questions for Al’s family. Maybe share a few of the funnier stories they might not have heard. He’d certainly felt it was like an homage.

  But there was something else: Miri. He’d never been able to forget her from that day of the funeral. Never been able to forget the way she had stood tall and straight, playing “Taps” for her beloved cousin. That woman had amazing strength.

  But over the months they had corresponded, he realized something else was happening. He wanted to see Miri again. Wanted a chance to get to know her. And before his wounding he’d even entertained a few sexual thought about her, although out of respect for Al he hadn’t let them go too far. It wasn’t that Al hadn’t had his share of flings when the opportunity presented, but family was a whole different ballpark.

  Miri was a strikingly attractive woman although she didn’t seem aware of it. She had a great smile, almost always ready, and a kind demeanor. He imagined that the kids in her music classes thought highly of her.

  His mouth twisted a little as he rounded a corner and felt the slash of wind mixed with ice against his cheek. Reaching back, he pulled up his hood. Miri didn’t need a personal reference from him, although that seemed to be what he was trying to build. Why?

  Pointless exercise. He wouldn’t be here long. He had some other people he intended to visit, men and women who’d been wounded and retired for disability, or had just left when their terms of service were completed. People from the history of his own seventeen years in uniform, many of them the kind of friends you could make only when facing danger again and again together.

  So today he’d visit with Al’s family, then once this snow blew through he’d hit the road again.

  And that meant he didn’t need to figure out anything about Miri. He might feel attracted to her, but that wouldn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. He simply would not allow anyone to get that close to him. Not anymore. Al had closed that chapter of his life by dying. It didn’t pay to care.

  Gil came across a park bench and decided to sit for a few minutes. A pretty park, he thought, despite having been browned completely by winter except for a few evergreens around the edges. It wasn’t large, and held only a few playground items. He thought he remembered seeing an even bigger one on his way into town.

  Small town, more than one park. Nice. He heard approaching footsteps and looked up to see a face he recognized from yesterday, Nate Tate. The man people had referred to as the old sheriff.

  For a retired guy, he didn’t look all that old. “Sergeant,” Tate said, taking a seat at the other end of the bench. “Getting old has certain requirements, probably not so different from you. Gotta keep in shape somehow, although it’s a long way from the old days.”

  Gil smiled faintly. “Just call me Gil, Sheriff.”

  “Nate. Ain’t the sheriff anymore, but I feel sorry for Gage Dalton, who is. I retired more than a decade ago and they still call him the new sheriff.”

  Gil’s smile widened a hair. “I’m not surprised.”

  “Things change slowly around here. Except the weather, which seems to be changing fast today.” Nate chuckled. “Good of you to come back to visit with Al Baker’s family. I’m sorry I didn’t get more of a chance to visit with you yesterday, but it seemed like our younger vets had you pretty well in hand.”

  “They did.” He wondered if Nate was just being neighborly or if he had a larger point to this.

  “Vietnam,” Nate said. “Multiple tours with the Army Special Forces. I hear you all are branching out wider these days.”

  “Sometimes,” Gil answered cautiously.

  “Didn’t figure you were going to give me any details.” Tate shook his head a bit. “That old French saying ‘the more things change the more they stay the same’ probably fits. I crossed a lot of borders I prolly shouldn’t’ve crossed, but I had my orders. Anyway, I’m not trying to give you the third degree. You ought to come over sometime. I think you’d enjoy getting to know Seth and Edie better, as well as my daughter, Wendy, and her hubby, Yuma. He was a medevac pilot in Nam. And that Edie’s a pistol. She used to fly combat search and rescue. And I guess you know that Seth was a SEAL.”

  “He mentioned it.”

  “Well, hang around for a while. You’ll find plenty of others in these parts with your kind of background. And now I need to finish my walk before my wife wonders what happened to me. Take it easy, hear?”

  Gil watched Nate Tate stride away, recognizing the easy step of a man who’d walked many miles and knew to keep his knees soft and ready for sudden changes in the terrain. Apparently some things never went away.

  Gil rose, too, and started back to Miri’s house. He’d heard church bells and decided it wouldn’t be long before the Bakers arrived. He didn’t want to be rude, although now that he faced the conversation he had no idea what he could tell those people. Their son had shown great courage and had died honorably in the service of his country.

  That was the long and short of it. The stuff in between? Most of it no longer mattered or couldn’t be shared. A life came down to a single sentence. He supposed a guy was lucky if he got that much.

  It occurred to him as he walked the last block to Miri’s house that this town was almost trying to wrap itself around him, to welcome him. An odd sensation, but he was having it, quite a contrast to the many towns he’d walked through with the certainty that death might be hiding behind any door.

  There was absolutely no reason for this town to give a fig about him one way or the other, good or bad. Maybe he was the one looking for something and projecting it onto the people he’d met. Sure, they’d all been nice, but so what. Common courtesy, was all.

  Inside, he doffed his jacket, grateful for the warmth of the house. Miri popped her head out of the kitchen, asking, “Hot drink?”

  “Whatever you’ve got. It’s getting really cold out there.”

  “I wondered if you’d notice,” she said lightly. “Local weather has us down in the single digits now, with more to come. Some reports of sleet.”

  “I’ll second that report,” he said as he limped his way to the kitchen. “Felt it sting me on the face once while I was out. Ran into your old sheriff, too.”

  “Nate? He walks every morning, but usually there’s a stop at the diner along the way. I still haven’t heard about Maude, by the way.”

  Gil pulled out a chair at the table. “Surely there’s some way to find out?”

  “It’ll get on the grapevine pretty soon. All it needs is for Mavis to tell one person. Oh, and I’m sorry, but Betsy and Jack won’t be coming this morning, after all. Jack was worrying about the weather, and I can’t say I blame him. It’s a long drive back to the ranch, and just about impossible if there’s a whiteout. The wind’s already strong—I guess I don’t need to tell you that,” she said with a little laugh. “Anyway, once snow starts to fall it won’t be long.”

  “I’ve been in a lot of weather like that. Better safe than sorry.” True as that was, he wondered again if he should have come here. Maybe he was rocking a boat and the Bakers were trying to avoid it. Maybe it wasn’t just the weather. “Miri?”

  “Uh-huh?” She placed a teakettle on the stove and lit the burner.

  “Did I make a mistake coming here?”

  That s
eemed to surprise her. She turned from the stove to frown faintly at him. “Why would you think that? Because Jack and Betsy decided they needed to get home before the weather got too bad?”

  “Not really.”

  “I hope not. I haven’t seen Betsy this animated since she got the news about Al. She had a truly great week with planning the barbecue. It eased my heart to see how excited and happy she got. So why should you think coming here was a mistake?”

  “Because I’m not sure what I’m doing. I thought I’d come and share stories of Al with them, but there isn’t a whole lot I can or should share, and there’s probably a lot they wouldn’t want to hear.”

  “Then how about you just let them ask questions whenever we get together. There are probably a lot of things they want to know, and I’d bet most of them are very small.”

  He regarded her steadily. “Small how?”

  She shrugged a little. “I’m not a parent, but I somehow don’t think I’d want to hear much about my son’s war adventures. I’d want to know the little things, like did he often go hungry, did he suffer from the cold...things like that. His comfort. Whether he seemed content with what he was doing. Basically, the one thing he might never talk about with me—did he have regrets?”

  Gil stood abruptly. From time to time he had serious problems being indoors. He felt confined, nearly trapped. “I’m going to step out onto the porch. I won’t be long.”

  “Do you still want that hot drink?” she asked.

  “Please,” he said over his shoulder, and repeated, “I won’t be long.”

  Because the pain was crawling up and down his side again, burrowing like an auger into his hip. His spine raised a bit of a ruckus, too, reminding him it wasn’t perfectly straight anymore, and oh, by the way, did he have any idea how much everything else hurt from his continual limping?

  Yeah, he knew, and willed his screaming body to silence.

  * * *

  Miri stood chewing her lip while the teakettle behind her began to whistle. Something was going on with Gil, although to be fair she really didn’t know him that well. He seemed reserved even now, although she’d wondered if that tower of granite at the funeral had been a man trying to contain a whole lot of pain.