Basic Training (8 page)

T
RAVIS STARED AT
the screen on his laptop, drumming his fingers against his thigh as tension tightened inside him.

It was an e-mail from Clarksie in the Middle East.

Yo, Action Man.

Word travels a little slow over here, but I’m glad to hear the brass finally kicked you out of the hospital and made you go to work. ’Bout time you got off your duff. It’s no fun playing jokes on the probies all by myself. That’d be sweet if you got reassigned to S.O. 6 when we’re back stateside in a couple of weeks. When you make the cut again, the beer’s on me.

You seen Becky lately? I know her job’s taking her all over Virginia. I can’t tell you how much it bites that I had to ship out before the honeymoon. Man, I miss her. Nobody here has hair that shade of blond. Not that I want you keeping her company. I know how you work the ladies, my friend. Still, it’d be nice to know somebody is keeping an eye on the Beckster for me.

Drop me a line sometime. I won’t be able to check messages for a couple of days, but I’ll be back. Count on it.

See you in two.

Clarksie

Travis clenched his jaw at the good natured teasing, meant to convey relief that he was in better shape than the last time Clarksie had seen him. He and Zachariah Clark, an overgrown farm boy from Nebraska, had known each other since basic. They’d secured plum assignments in Special Forces, had gone through weapons and ordinance school together, and had been Corps mates long enough to develop a bond that linked them across an ocean despite the miles of red tape that forced them to avoid any mention of a precise location or mission assignment.

But the urge to fire back the expected response—something terse and clever and teasingly graphic—couldn’t get past the envy and guilt. Clarksie was overseas, doing his job. Taking the risks Travis should be taking. Living with the rats in his bunk and the sand in his boots that Travis should be living with. Putting his butt on the line because that’s what their country had asked him to do.

Their country had asked Travis to go home and relax for four to six weeks. And if he wasn’t careful, they’d hand him his discharge papers and pat him on the back and tell him his services were no longer needed. That he’d been replaced by a real man who could get the job done.

Yeah, that’s what Clarksie wanted to hear. Him bitchin’ and moanin’ because he wasn’t there with him.

Summoning a remnant of the old Captain McCormick, Travis flexed his fingers over the keyboard, took a deep breath and started to type.

Clarksie—

I know you’re in the thick of it so I won’t keep you. I’m at home for a few days, resting up. My leg’s good, and the scars just make me prettier.

I told you there wouldn’t be any rookie who could take my place. Keep them in line or I’ll have to come over there to whip them into shape for you.

Yes, I saw Becky a couple of months back when she stopped by the base. We went to lunch and caught up. She’s a regular Law & Order babe in that pinstriped power suit. I tried to score some points, but she shot me down. I swear, all we talked about was you.” The big guy this, the big guy that.” Should I ask how you earned thatnickname? Seriously, man. She’s tough. The state’s attorney’s office is getting their money’s worth with her. You take out the bad guys there—she’s locking them up over here. I’ll give her a call when I can to see if she needs anything. But she’s all yours. She misses you.

Keep your head down and watch your back since I’m not there to do it for you.

See you in two.

Action Man

Travis read through his words carefully before hitting
Send
. He’d told a few lies about the leg and the flirting and told the man the truth he needed to hear most about his wife’s love. If Clarksie got a laugh or two from the e-mail, as well as the morale boost of connecting with a voice from home, Travis would be happy.

If
he
could live up to the claims he’d made, Travis would be even happier. He intended to be in his service
uniform and on hand to meet the plane when his former S.O. 6 unit landed stateside.

“Be safe, buddy.” Travis patted the laptop, aching to be something more substantial than that voice from home. What if one of the new guys in the unit—the probies—missed a booby trap during a mine sweep? What if their rookie eyes overlooked a flash in the mountains that warned a veteran like him of a hostile’s location? Hell, what if none of them could appreciate the twisted sense of humor that he and Clarksie shared? His unit needed him—for protection, guidance, and a good laugh.

Who was he kidding? Travis needed them.

The doorbell rang, pulling him from the downward spiral of his thoughts. As he closed his laptop, he could hear his dad answering the door. Ethan was there with a crisp military greeting, too. Then there were female voices and introductions all round.

Travis stood, smoothing out any wrinkles in his khaki slacks and making sure his navy-blue polo was neatly tucked inside his belt. If he could have worn a full-dress uniform to show General Craddock that he looked the part of an active duty Marine, he would have. But his beach-front best would have to do.

Before joining the others in the foyer, he slipped his fingers through the blinds of the guest room window and parted them far enough to see the second floor of the Bartlett house. The curtain moved at Tess’s window and he knew she’d been watching for the general’s arrival. Perfect.

A slow smile eased across his face. He drew his shoulders back, burying a flutter of anxiety beneath steely resolve.

Show time.

“General Craddock.” Travis had his hand out in welcome as he strode down the hall to join their guests. He ignored the minor twinges in his joints and exchanged a firm handshake with the superior officer who could make his reinstatement to S.O. 6 happen. “Welcome, sir. Or should I be saluting you?”

The lines beside Craddock’s eyes crinkled. “I already warned Ethan about that. For the next forty-eight hours we are all off the clock. In fact, I’ll be taking orders from Hal, here, as soon as we get on that boat.”

“You know I’d be outranking you, anyway, if I’d stayed in the Corps, Walter.” Travis’s father couldn’t resist getting a gibe in on his lifelong friend. “Better get used to it.”

Craddock touched his brow in a mock salute and grinned. “Yes, sir.”

Travis turned to the petite, dark-haired woman standing beside the general. “Mrs. Craddock.” He smiled in a way that never failed to charm women of all ages. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

She returned the smile with a knowing wink and a maternal scold. “At ease, Captain. And it’s Millie. I’m off duty for a couple of days myself. No need to butter me up.”

Travis raised his hands in surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll have Dad put you to work, too. I suppose after being married to the general so long, you know how to take an order?”

“She knows how to give one, you mean,” Craddock insisted, and every married or once-married Marine in the room laughed with a knowing nod.

“My job is to work on my tan and enjoy the ride—
and to have some sandwiches on hand in case these two old salts fail to catch anything.” After a yammering of friendly put-downs and challenges and protests in defense of all things sacred when it came to the art of fishing, Millie gestured toward the slightly plump, fiftyish, auburn-haired woman lingering in the doorway. “Before we get too settled in, I thought Eileen and I could run to the store and stock up on some snacks.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Walter said in feigned offense. “I will provide. I promise.” He clapped his hand over the redhead’s shoulder and pulled her between himself and Millie. “We need to finish introductions. Eileen Ward—my secretary—this is Hal’s younger son, Travis—another fine Marine.”

“Is there any other kind?” Travis’s remark got a response from everyone except Eileen. Maybe her bun was too tight. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Ward.”

“Thank you for having me.” She shook his proffered hand with absent-minded distraction, then snapped her full attention to her boss. “General, I’d be happy to make the grocery run myself, if someone would give me directions.”

“Forget the groceries, already,” Hal insisted. “I’m prepared for every contingency on this cruise. It’s not like I haven’t done it before.”

“Yes, I’m sure. But…You see…” After a couple of nervous starts, as if the words she’d been searching for had failed her, she turned her attention back to General Craddock. “I thought we were going to spend some time in town. I didn’t realize we’d be out on the water so long.”

“Just overnight,” Hal informed her.

She glanced over her shoulder. Judging by her expression, that seemed to be one night too long for the
woman. “You don’t want to leave the office unmanned tomorrow. The reports—”

“—will still be there when we get back.” Craddock waved aside her concerns. “I’d give you a medal for dedication if I could, but you’re being ridiculous. Captain Black will be there Monday. He’ll answer the phone and manage the filing until we get back.” He patted Eileen’s shoulder. “We’re here to relax, remember?”

“Kyle filing?” She touched her fingers to her temple as if that answer gave her a headache. “All the more reason to head back to the city.”

“Eileen, Kyle can alphabetize as well as you…”

The debate continued, but all Travis heard was the name. “Black?” He let his gaze slide with an ominous portent to his big brother. As the conversation buzzed around them, he whispered, “Kyle Black? The same guy who used to be your aide?”

Ethan nodded. “When I got promoted to Embassy Guard Training School C.O. at Quantico, Black moved up to work for the general.”

Not even Ethan knew the history he and Kyle Black shared. Not all of it, at any rate. If Travis’s file crossed Black’s desk enroute to General Craddock, he knew there’d be a damn good chance his paperwork could get
misplaced
for a few days. Maybe long enough for S.O. 6 to find a new captain before he ever had a decent shot at his old job. Yeah, calculated and underhanded—that would be Black’s style of revenge.

Ethan’s gray-blue eyes narrowed. “Something wrong?”

Before anyone else picked up on his suspicions, Travis shook his head. “Nah. It just feels like a bad omen whenever that guy’s name comes up.”

“I know the feeling.” Ethan reached for J.C. and pulled her to his side. Travis frowned. Had big brother had some kind of run-in with Kyle Black, too? And why the protective gesture with his wife? “I never could knock him for his efficiency and resourcefulness, but he’s definitely a man with a hidden agenda.”

A knock on the door sidelined Travis’s curiosity to follow up on Kyle Black. His entire mood lightened instantly when he saw Tess’s beaming smile through the screen door.

“I haven’t missed the party, have I?”

At his father’s urging, Tess opened the door and came inside. There was another round of introductions and then the whole group moved into the living room.

“Do you and Travis have plans this afternoon?” Hal asked.

“Sure do,” Tess answered.

Even though it was a Sunday, she wore one of her uniform polo shirts with the hospital’s logo over one proud breast. Nice touch. No one could doubt that he would continue to heal under her watch.

“We’re finishing up some last-minute preparations for the festival. Without Travis’s help, I won’t be ready for the onslaught of tourists we’re expecting.” She gave Travis a wink that sent a dozen unexpected smiles skittering through his veins. “I warned you I was going to put you to work when you volunteered.”

Now he wished he had. He wished this wasn’t an act for his father and Craddock’s benefit. Yeah, he’d enjoy spending some extra time with Tess while he was home this summer. He’d tote and carry whatever load she asked of him, repay her any way she asked—not just
because his father had visibly relaxed since her arrival, but because
his
mood had improved upon seeing her.

He owed Tess for that.

He just wished that repayment could be something a little more enticing. Something that involved kissing and getting naked and full body contact instead of driving and hauling and unpacking a few boxes. Travis closed his eyes and silently chanted his current mantra: Tess—friend. Any other woman…

Hell. Now that the changes he’d seen in Tess filled his head, he was having a hard time thinking about any other woman. His eyes popped open to find her still standing among the circle of friends and family—still sexy, still smiling.

Travis swallowed hard. He’d better keep his focus on the masquerade at hand. He’d talked her into providing an alibi to relieve Hal’s concerns and help him look good in front of General Craddock. The absolute least he could do was to play his part as well as she was playing hers.

“So much for my vacation.” Laying a hand over his heart, Travis sighed. “Duty calls, I’m afraid. I can’t ignore a damsel in distress, can I? You see why I have to bug out on the boat trip.”

He made a point to glance toward General Craddock. Do you get it? This woman needed him to work—knew he was capable of hard work. She was counting on him to get the job done. The trust in Tess’s voice and expression said he was a man that a woman, his community—even his country—could rely on.

But Craddock was focused on Tess. “I can see why he’d rather spend time with a pretty thing like you than a bunch of old farts like us.”

“Pretty thing?” For an instant, confusion marred Tess’s smiling facade.

Millie Craddock rescued Tess from the general’s flirting. She nudged her husband in the shoulder. “Who are you calling an old fart, Walter Craddock? Speak for yourself. I intend to have a grand adventure out on the water.”

Craddock dipped his chin and pressed a quick kiss to Millie’s lips. “Honey, you will never be old. And I’ll be right there beside you, having that adventure.”

“That’s the spirit.” Hal slapped his friend on the back and grinned at Millie. “You keep this one in line, or we’ll be tossing him overboard.”

Everyone in the room laughed, except for Eileen, who’d perched stiffly on the edge of the sofa and was playing with the hem of her cotton sweater. “Just how adventurous are we going to be? I haven’t been in a pool in years, much less the ocean.”