A Soldier for Keeps (7 page)

“Goodbye, Pierce.” She forced her crutches forward, over the slick threshold and onto the industrial carpet running through the marbled foyer. She caught sight of his wave, of the smile sliding away. He gave her one solemn look before he turned, striding through the snowfall. She memorized the straight span of his shoulders, the powerful line of his back and the way snow veiled him like a dream.

Sure, they might keep in touch by e-mail for a while, but this could well be the last sight she ever had of him. Four years was a long time, and chances were their paths would never cross again. Sad, she tightened her grip on her handles and headed down the hallway to her next class.

The electronic doors swished apart, giving him a face full of fresh, Wyoming air. He breathed deep,
scenting the mountain air and wood smoke and something innately comforting. There was no place like it on earth. It was home.

The airport was small with minor commotion. A couple of vehicles sat along the curb with family members waiting, their rapid conversations rising and falling with the cadence of the wind.

He didn’t spot his folks’ rig anywhere. Mom and Skip must be running a few minutes late. His plane had landed eight minutes ahead of schedule, of all things. He parked on a bench and kept watch for them. And if he pulled out his cell, it wasn’t because Lexie was on his mind. She hadn’t been; he’d made sure of that. He had banished her from his thoughts the moment he’d driven away from campus. Whatever his feelings for her, they had best stay buried. He’d done the right thing, said goodbye, and got the chance to see her one last time. Chances were she’d forget him by month’s end.

He turned on his cell, in case Mom was trying to get a hold of him and not because he hoped Lexie might have sent a text. Because if he let himself hope, he would be bound for disappointment. Lexie was great—but he simply wasn’t the man for her. An electronic beep told him he had a message waiting.

“Pierce!” Mom waved at him from their moving vehicle.

He was on his feet, emotions raw. She looked good. Older, but good. He took in her shock of gray hair, which hadn’t been there last summer, and more lines on her face. Grief had been tough on her, but her smile was the same. He put thoughts of Lexie on hold as the rig’s door opened and Mom rushed into his arms.

“You are a sight for sore eyes, dear boy,” she told
him, grabbing hold of his jaw to take better stock of him. “You look tired and too thin. We’ll fix that real fast.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been baking up a storm just for me.”

“Skip likes my baking, too, so I’m sure he and Sean can help out. Now get in this vehicle so we can get home. I can’t wait to show you the new horses.” She clung to him a little too long, and it was revealing.

He winced, wishing he could be what his mother wanted, but in doing that, he would let Tim down. He couldn’t win. Torn up, he stowed his ruck and hopped into the backseat.

“Good to see you, Pierce,” Skip said, catching his eye in the rearview mirror. “You buckled up?”

“I am now.” He reached for the strap as the SUV rolled away from the curb. It wasn’t until he went to secure the buckle that he realized his cell was clutched in his left hand. He flipped it open, only half listening to his mother’s plan for the rest of the afternoon. His heart was pounding as if he’d just finished running ten clicks.

“Here’s my e-mail addy,” Lexie had written. “Tag, you’re it.”

He smiled; he couldn’t help it. She hadn’t waited for his text. She had sent her address instead. Why that made him happy, he couldn’t rightly say.

“Pierce, are you listening to me?” Mom asked.

“I am now.” He slipped his phone in his pocket, gladness filling places that had long been sad.

T
he crutches made life interesting, but she was adapting. She leaned her sticks against her bedroom wall, balancing on her good foot, and unslung the duffel bag from around her neck and shoulder. Sure, she could have asked one of the freshmen for help, but it was the crunch time before midterms. Besides, she was doing all right on her own.

She upended the bag and fresh laundry tumbled onto her twin bed. Warm from the dryer, her socks and sweats crackled, scenting the air. A knock on the door interrupted any stray thoughts of actually folding the clothes.

“It’s me.” Giselle lingered in the doorway. She looked pale, her eyes too big for her face. “I wanted to thank you for hooking me up with the support group.”

Lexie shut the inner door to her bedroom. “I was about to head down and knock on your door to see how it went. It was good?”

“Really helpful.” She sighed, looking downcast, but better somehow. “There was another girl who had lost a sister over there.”

“You’re not alone.” Lexie leaned on her crutches. “That’s a lot to handle on your own. You don’t need to bottle things up. You can come talk to me anytime, you know. The center has some good counselors.”

“I have an appointment on Monday.” Giselle shrugged. “I think it will help.”

“Good. I think it will, too.”

“I’m going home this weekend. Pierce is paying for my ticket.” The girl blinked hard, as if she were fighting tears and more. “We’re going to get the whole family together and have an old-fashioned hog roast at Uncle Frank’s. That way Pierce will have a good send-off.”

She hadn’t heard from him, but he was probably busy and it had only been two days. Guys never hurried about getting back to you, whether it was romantic or not. “You sound more accepting of his choice.”

“Just resigned, I guess. I want to support him, but I’m really scared for him.” Tears welled up and she blinked them back.

“I would be, too.” She tried not to think of her feelings for Pierce. “We just want him to be safe.”

“Yeah. I’m going to keep hoping he’ll change his mind, but I know he won’t. He’s always been stubborn.”

“I think he’s trying to do what’s right.” And if she didn’t like the idea of Pierce being in danger, she also had to admit that she’d never met anyone so innately capable. Giselle stayed for a few more minutes, talking of less painful things before she excused herself to go study. She, too, had a mound of work waiting her.

At least things were going better for the girl. Lexie hunkered down at her desk, eyeing her stack of research books and the third draft of her research paper sitting in the printer, awaiting final tweaking and a good proof
read. This was the reason she’d met Pierce, she thought, lifting the fifteen pages from the printer tray. She had put off researching the project so she could go skiing. Remembering him was like sipping chamomile tea; it warmed her in a cozy, nice way.

So she was thinking of him with a smile on her face as she woke up her laptop and saw the message. She had three new e-mails in her in-box. Her pulse fluttered with a tiny smidgeon of hope. Not that she was waiting for an e-mail from him, she reminded herself. It was best to ward off disappointment. Pierce didn’t have time to e-mail her. So exactly why was she forgoing her work to double-click on her mail program?

Her eyes zeroed in on the screen. His name was at the top of the list. She opened it, breathless, wondering what he had to say. Were things going well with his family? Or did he need a supportive shoulder?

She reached for the cup of tea that had been cooling on her desk and took a soothing sip. More like Mrs. Granger was so glad to have her son home safe and
sound, she was spoiling him. She could picture the kind family gathering around their son. She kept reading.

A knock at her door broke into her thoughts. “Lexie?”

“Hi Amber.” She hated turning away from her computer screen, but she was glad to see another of her favorite girls. Okay, all the girls on her floor were her favorite. “What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping I could ask your opinion on something?” Amber leaned against the door frame, one hand behind her back. “It’s for my intro to American lit
class. I have my paper done early, but now that I’ve had all this time to think about it, it’s probably awful. Would you look at it?”

“I’d be happy to. I don’t know how useful my opinion will be, but I’ll do my best.”

“Thanks.” She smiled and slipped the paper on the small coffee table. “No rush. It’s not due until Friday.”

“I’ll read it next,” she promised as the girl flashed a relieved smile and took off down the hall.

She turned back to her computer.

She ran a quick spell check and sent it, wondering what he was up to this afternoon. There were so many details she didn’t know about his day. Was it snowing where he was, too? Was he out skiing? Hollering “banzai” as he blazed a trail through the snowy meadows?

“Lexie?” Rose was at the door. “You wouldn’t have a paper clip, would you?”

“Just a sec.” She pulled open her top desk drawer in search of the cylinder of colorful paper clips. She spotted it and offered it to the girl. “Here you go.”

Another successful mission. Rose chose a yellow coated paper clip with thanks and bopped out of the room.

Look at the full life she had. She should be focusing on reading Amber’s paper, on finishing her own paper and on the rest of a very busy day. So there was no explanation why she was missing Pierce, or why she was looking forward to his next e-mail.

She listened while she worked, but there was no telltale beep to signal that a new message was in her in-box.

“Pierce!” Mom’s voice echoed in the upstairs hallway.

“I’m not here,” he bellowed back as he finished
reading Lexie’s letter. He poked his head down the hall and sneaked a look over the banister. No sign of his brother pounding his way through the house.

Their old sheepdog, Roger, lifted his head from his bed next to the couch and gave him a long look.

“Keep watch for me, will you, boy?”

The dog blinked, as if he understood perfectly. With Roger on the job, Pierce sat back down and started to type.

He hit Send, his senses went on alert. Downstairs, Roger gave a low “woof.” Too late. Footsteps whispered
on the carpet. Was Sean coming? He moved out of his chair stealthily and edged up to the door. The muffled hush of footsteps rustled closer. He waited for the precise moment and shot out the door, wrapping an arm around Sean’s neck. They tumbled to the floor with a crash.

“You’re getting slow, big brother.” Sean laughed, wrestling for the advantage.

“You’re the slow one.” He countered, keeping Sean square on the shag carpet. “I’m not the lazy one without a job. Hello.”

“I’m a misunderstood genius.” The old family joke.

Pierce rolled his eyes.

Roger woofed in warning, sharper this time. Trouble was on the way.

“Mom’s coming!” They said in unison, falling apart. Although they were grown, neither of them wanted to get in the doghouse with her. He stood up, straightening his wrinkled shirt.

“What are you boys doing up there?” She stood midway up the staircase, giving them a firm look. It was at odds with her soft curls, dimpled chin and ruffled apron.

“He took my computer, Mom.” Sean might be twenty-four, but he sounded twelve.

“I was going to bring it back,” Pierce found himself arguing just like old times.

“Did you hear that, Mom? Are you going to ground him or something?”

Pierce smiled at their mom, knowing her firm look held no substance. She wasn’t mad at either of them. She was a complete softy.

“Pierce, you give that computer back. And boys, no more fighting in the house.” She gave them one long-
lasting scowl of warning before heading back downstairs.

“What were you doing with it anyway?” Sean asked. “You’re not exactly a computer geek. Were you writing to your girlfriend?”

“As if a girl would have me.” The best defense was a great offense. He doubted anyone in his family, Giselle included, would understand his friendship with Lexie. “Just like no girl will have you, Sean.”

“Hey, I’m in a dating dry spell right now.” He launched out; Pierce ducked and countered and took him down. They hit the ground, a loud thump echoed down the hall, and Roger barked enthusiastically. Mom came marching their way.

“Enough, you two, or no dessert for either one of you.” She sounded fierce, but her eyes were laughing. If he looked hard enough, he could see she was biting down on her lip to keep from howling. “Honestly, I don’t know what it is about you boys. It’s a wonder I have a house left. Now straighten up, both of you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He unhooked his arm from around Sean’s neck. It was amazing what he had to put up with just to borrow a computer. The only thing missing was Tim, who would have thrown himself into the fight and caused even more havoc.

That was the cost of war, a lost soldier’s life. Pierce knew wherever Tim was in heaven, he was missing them, too.

Lexie drowned out the hustle and bustle of the dining hall and ignored the loud drone of conversations. Friday evenings were especially loud, since everyone was in good spirits. Instead of grabbing a table with friends or
with some of the girls from her floor, she’d taken over a small table near the window. Her laptop fit nicely next to her tray of turkey noodle casserole and a big plate of green salad.

She took a swig of iced tea, wondering what to say in her next e-mail. Pierce was probably dining with his family right now, reunited after long months apart. It sounded as if he had a good family life, in spite of his parents’ divorce. They had that in common, too.

There were a lot of surprising similarities between them. They had both given up on love. They were both Christians. They had grown up in Wyoming, although in different parts of the state. It felt as if she had known him a long time, although it hadn’t been long at all, which would be scary if not for the fact he would be returning to his Army life and she wouldn’t really have to take a close look at her fears of commitment and intimacy.