Semper Fi (33 page)

A flicker of movement caught Cal’s eye, and his heart skipped a beat. There was Jim, like a statue among the trees. He appeared rooted to the spot, so Cal approached with Finnigan dancing around his heels.

He stopped several feet from Jim. Perhaps this had been a mistake indeed. “Sorry to arrive unannounced. I can go.”

Jim stared for a few more moments. “Are you real?”

Cal took another step. Jim seemed dazed, the way he was sometimes after one of his episodes. “I heard about the storm, and I wanted to make sure everything’s all right. Are you okay? The kids?”

Nodding, Jim said nothing else.

Cal gazed around at the trees, but couldn’t see much in the gloom. “The apples?”

Blinking, Jim seemed to return to reality. “Ruined. More than half from what I can tell.” He bent to pluck an apple from the ground. “Can’t sell them bruised and dented.”

Hating the defeat in Jim’s voice, Cal took the piece of fruit, examining the battered skin. “One hell of a storm, huh?”

“I’ve never seen hail like that. Hope I never do again. Need to rebuild part of the roof on the barn. The house too. The hail dented the heck out of the truck.”

“Jesus, I’m sorry, Jim. If there’s anything I can do, tell me.”

“There’s nothing anyone can do.” He grimaced. “Mother Nature always gets the last laugh. It’s the way of the world.”

“You know if you need money, I’ll—”

“We’ll get by.” Jim uttered the words as if by rote.

“How? How are you going to get by with less than half your income? Never mind fixing the damage?”

Pain pinched Jim’s expression. “I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.” He squared his shoulders, seeming to give himself a mental shake. “I won’t take your money.”

“Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?”

Jim shook his head. “It wouldn’t be right. You’ve already given me so much, and what can I give you in return?”

“Jim…”

Of course they both knew what Cal wanted—what they both wanted—and their gazes locked, the heavy, damp air suddenly electric. Cal still had the apple in his hand, and he dug in his nails, resisting the urge to close the distance and wrap Jim in his arms. Then he gave in and took a hesitant step.

For a moment, Jim’s resolve appeared to crack. The desire and raw
need
in his expression stole the air from Cal’s lungs. He knew all the reasons they’d parted hadn’t changed, but he wanted Jim desperately—as much as he ever had, maybe even more. Even if it was only one more night, there was nothing stopping them.

Although they weren’t touching, Jim jerked back, shaking his head. “We can’t, Cal. I can’t.”

With a sigh and a nod, Cal tossed the apple and jammed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He suddenly felt very foolish, and he backed up. “I should get going. Oh, thank Sophie for the card. Tell her I called or something.”

“Wait. It’s too late for you to drive back now. I can’t turn you out.”

Cal tried to smile. “It’s okay. You’re under no obligation to be hospitable to guests who turn up uninvited in the middle of the night.”

“Stay until morning. You can see the kids. They miss you.”

“I miss them too.”

“Sophie loves the dollhouse. I moved it into their room, and she spends hours with it. Brought over a few of her school friends to see it last week. They said they wished they had an Uncle Cal.”

The pang he felt still surprised him. “I really do miss her. Adam too. And I really should go.”

“Stay. It’s one night.”

“I have things I need to do tomorrow.”

“Oh. I don’t want to keep you from your work. How’s it going with your father?”

“Good, good. I might go to London again.” The lies slipped off his tongue far too easily. “The bank’s doing well, and we’re expanding across England and into Wales.” That was the truth, at least.

“London.” Jim nodded. “That’s great, Cal. I’m sure you’ll do a wonderful job. You’ll have to send the children a postcard.” He smiled weakly. “England and Wales will be lucky to have you.”

“Thanks. So, I should get going.” He turned.

“Cal, wait.”

Forcing himself to breathe, Cal circled back around. “Yeah?”

“I’ll worry about you out on the road at this hour. Just wait until morning. Please?”

Cal thought of Ann’s accident. “All right. How about I stay in the cabin?”

“Don’t be silly. You can sleep in your room.” Jim’s smile was forced, and his tone too light. “I’m sure we can control ourselves for a few hours.”

Cal laughed awkwardly. “I’m sure.”

They fell into step together and made their way back to the house. As they passed the barn, Cal thought of their last time in there—on his hands and knees with Jim pounding into him. If only he’d known it would be the last time, he would have…what?

Taking a sharp breath, Cal ordered himself to forget it.
This is the way it has to be.

In the kitchen, Jim poured them each a glass of water. He offered whiskey, but Cal shook his head. There was nothing left to do but go to bed, and they eased up the stairs, even though the children usually wouldn’t be woken by anything quieter than a freight train rumbling through the sitting room.

Jim peeked in at the kids, and Cal paused in the guest room doorway. “Good night,” he whispered.

Cal’s chest ached as they shared another look that said everything they couldn’t. Then Jim nodded, and Cal shut the door. He kicked off his shoes and folded his slacks and undershirt over the chair in the corner. Clad in his boxers, he climbed under the familiar sheets.

Despite everything, it felt like coming home.

An explosion boomed across the water, the sound washing over them with a growl as their amtrac approached land. The men huddled together in the floating tank, taking turns peeking at the cloud of smoke hanging over Peleliu. The amtrac gave more shelter than the Higgins Boats, for which Jim was grateful.

“It don’t look very big,” Sully said, speaking loudly over the roar of another bomb. Overhead, American planes soared, and warships dotted the ocean behind.

“No, it doesn’t.” Pushing his helmet out of his eyes, Jim smiled. “Remember what the lieutenant told us on Pavuvu before we left. This one should all be over in a couple of days.”

“Looks like we’ve already shelled the shit out of it. Can’t imagine there are many Japs left on that miserable rock,” Pete added.

The air snapped with the reverberations of more explosions, and flames flickered in the smoke. Then, as the wave of landing vehicles approached shore, the barrage ceased, and there was a sudden, eerie silence.

Cal was pressed up behind Jim, and he leaned in, his breath tickling Jim’s neck.

“Here we go. Keep your head down.”

“You too.”

If Cal said anything else, it was lost in the mortar and artillery that rained down from the island. Their amtrac plowed on, the smell of burning metal mixing with the salt air. As they lurched to shore, the men leaped over the side.

Jim took in the sight of the beach, already a graveyard of smoldering amtracs, and bloodied and charred men. The sand was littered with holes, and in many Jim could spot the helmets of Marines taking cover from the barrage of mortars and machine gun fire coming from the headland, which appeared carved out of coral.

Praying he wouldn’t hit any unexploded mortars, Jim burrowed into the sand. They were pinned down, and had to take out the enemy firing from the headland or they’d never make it across the beach. He glanced about for Cal, breathing in relief as he spotted him digging into his own hole.

The ground shook, and Jim spat sand from his mouth. Sweat dripped into his eyes. He blinked, hoping the Marine tank rumbling out from the trees wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He heard Pete’s shout, urging on the tank as it took aim at the coral fortress.

Jim followed the direction of Pete’s voice and saw him, his arm raised as he cheered on the tank. Then there was a burst of sound and fire, and Pete disintegrated into gore in a plume of acrid smoke that burned Jim’s nostrils. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came.

Pete was gone.

The tank fired into the hole through which the Japs had been firing, yet the men inside disappeared one by one, jumping out of sight. Somehow they escaped, as if by some sleight of hand—rabbits in a magician’s hat.

When the Japanese firing was silenced, Jim and the others abandoned their holes, hurrying into the scrub beyond the beach and sliding into a crater left by a mighty blast in the dry earth. Sully, Joe, and others joined him, and Jim looked back for Cal. For a minute, there was no sign, and Jim craned his neck as his pulse raced. Cal had been fine, but then again so had Pete right up until the last moment.

Jim squeezed his eyes shut as if he could block out the memory. Counting under his breath, he waited. The seconds were like hours. Another Marine scurried toward them, but Jim knew from a glance that it wasn’t Cal. “Ninety-three, ninety-four…” he muttered.

“He’s coming, Johnny.” Big Joe thumped on Jim’s back, his preferred method of reassurance.

Just as Jim scrambled to his feet to find him, Cal jogged into sight and dropped into the crater. Jim took a shuddering breath, and his body relaxed just a bit. Around Cal’s neck swung four extra canteens. He ducked his head and pulled them free.

“Figured we could use all the water we can get from the looks of this place.”

They all drank, passing the extra canteens around and saving their own water for later. The sun scorched them, and Sully huddled beneath his helmet, his skin already reddening. He grumbled, “Never thought I’d miss the fuckin’ jungle, but I’m sure glad we ain’t gonna be here long.”

They were close to the airstrip that made the island valuable, and in the distance, rocky outcroppings rose above the flat landscape. “Japs must be up there,” Jim noted.

Joe nodded. “Yep. Should be plenty of fun getting across that airstrip. Not too many places to hide.”

They all murmured their agreement.

“Hey, where’s Pistol?” Sully gazed around, pushing up his helmet.

“Maybe he found another crater,” Cal said, although he didn’t sound convinced.

Images of Pete’s last moments played out in Jim’s mind, the smell of singed flesh making his mouth water as his stomach lurched. He hadn’t eaten since they were on the transport ship, and he inhaled deeply through his nose, not wanting to lose what little he had in his stomach. “No.”

Cal’s hand was warm on his arm. “Jim?”

“He’s not coming.” Jim cleared his parched throat. “He got it on the beach.”

“Pistol got it?” Sully sounded incredulous. “But…ain’t nobody who could take down the Pistol. He’s tough as nails.”

“Not tougher than a mortar,” someone said. Jim didn’t know him.

Joe swore. “Fucking Nip bastards.”

They sat in silence under the blazing sun. What more was there to say? Before long, the lieutenant was barking commands. “Stovepipe boys, your target is the enemy bunkhouse across the airstrip. Move out!”

Soon they found out how thin the cover really was, and how easily the Japs could take them out. Machine gun fire burst endlessly, shells falling as the Marines raced across the airstrip, their equipment an albatross in the unbearable heat.

“Gonna kill us all, aren’t they?” Sully winced as they dove into another crater as a shell exploded nearby. “We’re sitting ducks here.”

Then another Marine skidded into the crater, a radio man this time. “Got any water?”

Jim had drained his canteen already, and he and the others shook their heads.

The radio man swore. “There’s no water on this fucking island so they sent some over from the ships in old gas drums. Too bad they didn’t rinse them out first. There’s men down all over the place, sick as dogs. Like we don’t have enough problems with these Jap fuckers in their tunnels.”

“Tunnels?” Cal asked, his face grim.

“Yeah, I heard they got this whole island set up with tunnels and caves and hidey-holes while we’re running around here in the open like it’s goddamn target practice.”

Jim’s stomach churned anew. “I thought this one was supposed to be easy.”

The radio man barked out a laugh. “Story of our fuckin’ lives.”