Hard Landing

by Davies, Shirleen

  Reb’s slow grin told Paul chicken was on the menu, again.

  “Nothing for us tonight. I’m taking Jesse out to a new place I’ve heard about.” Trey had his arm around her as they relaxed in the back seat.

  “You are?” Jesse asked.

  “Didn’t I mention it?” Trey knew he hadn’t, wanting it to be a surprise.

  She tilted her head, narrowed her eyes, and gave him her ‘you know darn well you didn’t tell me’ look.

  “You’ll like it. Trust me.”

  And she had—trusted him, and liked the restaurant, a lot.

  “What’s the name, again?” Jesse asked as she sipped her wine.

  “Genovese’s. It’s owned by a cousin of one of the ground crew. He’s talked about it for weeks and offered to make the reservation.” He looked around. “Nice place.”

  “Yes, it is.” She set down her wine glass to reach for the calamari Trey had ordered. He knew it was her favorite.

  “Here you are.” The waiter placed a plate of chicken marsala in front of Jesse. “And Osso Buco for the gentleman. “Anything else?”

  “No, this is fine. Thanks.” Trey smelled the wonderful aroma, picked up his knife and fork, and dug in.

  It didn’t take long for either of them to clean their plates. They passed on dessert but ordered an espresso for Trey and a cappuccino for Jesse. When the coffees arrived, Trey stirred his, deep in thought, clearly not focusing on the hot drink.

  Jesse watched him a moment, wondering what it was that so fully captured his attention. She didn’t ask, knowing he’d share it with her when the time was right.

  He drove out of town to a small hill with a lookout that provided a stunning view of the valley below. Trey turned off the engine and sat back, enjoying the quiet. It was the one place that reminded him of home without being there.

  “You haven’t told me if you’ll come to Dad and Annie’s wedding.”

  Jesse wondered if that was what had been bothering him at the restaurant. She shifted toward him.

  “I’d love to go, if that’s what you want.”

  “It’s not about what I want, Jesse. Do you want to join me?” Trey swiveled his head toward Jesse and his gaze locked onto hers.

  “Yes, I’d like to go with you.”

  “Good.” He was quiet for a long time before Jesse decided to break the silence.

  “Is everything okay? You’ve been unusually quiet tonight. Is something bothering you?”

  “Not really.” He reached out and grabbed her hand. “I guess the last trip home solidified for me a question I’ve had for a few years.”

  “A question?”

  “Whether I’d leave the Navy after my obligation is over and go home, or re-up. My time there, a few weeks ago, settled for me that no place will ever be home like Fire Mountain.” He turned to Jesse. “That’s where I belong long-term.” Trey squeezed her hand, then let go. “I thought you needed to know so there’d be no confusion about my plans.”

  Jesse thought about what he’d said. She knew her plans weren’t firm. She loved to fly, relishing the adrenaline rush, the camaraderie she’d developed with the other pilots, and the structure. She’d made more friends in the last couple of years than she had her entire life. It would be a hard life to leave.

  “All right,” she said and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Are you asking me to make a decision now or just telling me your plans?”

  “I’d never pressure you, Jess. You just need to know what I see as my future, and that it’s on the ranch in Arizona. I’d like you with me, so yes, at some point you’ll need to make a choice.”

  She let out a sigh of relief. “I can live with that.” Jesse moved over, shifted so that she faced him, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “This is all new to me. I just need more time.” She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

  Trey wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and deepening the kiss. One hand crept up into her hair and held her steady as she opened for him, allowing their tongues to explore.

  He adjusted her on his lap and unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her black, lace bra to his view. He let his mouth move down the soft column of her neck, then lower.

  Jesse couldn’t get close enough. She held his head tight to her, feeling the fire building, and squirming from the intense pleasure. She felt the cool air fan her skin when he unsnapped her pants and drew down the zipper.

  “We’ve never made love in my truck,” he whispered.

  “Are you sure?” Her voice was thick, sultry.

  “Oh yeah,” Trey ground out as she moved her hand down the hard muscles of his stomach, then lower.

  “Then I think it’s time we do.”

  ******

  “Here you are,” their commanding officer said as he passed out their squadron assignments. The pilots knew there couldn’t be a bad placement. They’d either be on the USS Ronald Reagan or USS Carl Vinson, both with a home port at Coronado, California.

  Reb was the first to read his orders. “Squadron eighty-six. The Reagan.”

  He was followed by Paul. “Squadron twenty-two. The Vinson.”

  Jesse read hers next. “Squadron twenty-two. The Vinson.” She looked at Paul and smiled.

  Trey was the last. “Squadron two. The Reagan.” He was pleased with the assignment and the Reagan, but damn, he’d hoped Jess and he would be at least on the same ship, which would’ve made deployments easier to handle. His thoughts must have been evident as he looked over to see Jess at his side.

  She rested her hand on his arm. “We’ll deal with this.” She dropped her hand. “Besides, we’ve made it. It’s cause for celebration.”

  “That it is,” Reb chimed in and clapped Trey on the shoulder.

  “Looks like it’s you and me, Outlaw.” Paul came up beside Jesse.

  “Outlaw?” Jesse looked perplexed.

  “Didn’t you get the memo? That’s your call sign.”

  “Yeah,” Reb said. “Something about Jesse James being an outlaw. Hence …”

  “That doesn’t make much sense,” Jesse protested.

  “And who said it had to?” Paul understood her less than enthusiastic response.

  Trey and Reb had been bestowed with their call signs weeks before—Cowboy for Trey. And as hard as everyone tried, no one could come up with anything more appropriate than Reb. So now it was official.

  “So, what’s yours?” Jesse stood toe-to-toe to the roommate who was now a squadron partner.

  “Uh,” Paul said as he scratched his head.

  “Growler. What else?” Trey grinned and slapped his friend on the back.

  Chapter Four

  “Here’s your mail.” Reb handed Trey a stack of envelopes. “This is for Jesse.”

  “Thanks.” Trey started sorting through it as he made his way upstairs to the bedroom he shared with Jesse.

  It was only two days before Jesse and he would fly out to Arizona for his dad’s wedding. He was ready for a change of scenery. The last few weeks had been brutal and he was ready for a break.

  He pushed open the bedroom door and stopped. Jesse stood in a bra and panties, running her fingers through her short, damp hair. He never got tired of looking at her. She noticed him when he kicked the door closed and started toward her.

  Jesse put her hands up. “Not now, Cowboy. I’m heading for drinks with some guys from the squadron.”

  “So you’re cleaning up for other guys?”

  She walked up and threw her arms around him before planting a kiss on his open mouth. “I’ll be all yours when I get back.”

  He swatted her butt as he walked past to place their mail on the bed, deciding he’d sort through his later.

  A few minutes later, Jesse checked herself in the mirror, grabbed her small shoulder bag, and dashed down the stairs.

  “See you boys later,” she called.

  “Hey, wait up.” Trey walked up, a cold beer in his hand, and leaned down to place a soft kiss on her neck before mo
ving up to the sensitive spot behind her ear and finally to her lips. “Have fun.” He turned and headed back to the kitchen, aware of the effect he’d had on her.

  She stared after Trey, debating for just a moment before pushing the thought aside, of blowing off the squadron and staying home to attack him instead.

  Jesse hadn’t returned a couple of hours later, as Trey finished cleaning up the kitchen after his turn cooking dinner. It had been one of his dad’s favorites—western chicken enchilada casserole. The guys devoured it. He slipped the towel onto a hook and dragged his body upstairs.

  He had just pulled on a clean t-shirt, when he spotted the mail. Grabbing his stack, Trey sat back against the headboard, and sorted through it. A credit card statement, a couple of advertisements, a short note from a girl he had known in high school inviting him to a reunion, and an envelope from an address in Pensacola. He set everything else aside and opened the last piece of mail, counting two single-sided pages, plus a third paper with what appeared to be addresses and phone numbers, and a small photo that slid to the floor. He picked up the photo, staring into a small face and eyes that looked disturbingly like his.

  Trey began reading, not comprehending at first, trying to wrap his brain around what the writer was saying. He stopped, then looked at the second page to read the signature—Sydney Powell. He couldn’t place the name at first and let his mind play it over and over, until a light went off. Sydney, the girl he’d met just before transferring to the base in Texas.

  His eyes went back to the first page and he started over. By the time he had finished, he’d broken out in a sweat, not believing what he’d read, but afraid it might be true.

  Dear Trey,

  Bet you never thought you’d hear from me again, but at this point, I have no choice but to send you this letter. I wish this could be done in person, but circumstances prevent it. A letter seems harsh, and that’s not my intent.

  We have a son. Trevor is fourteen-months old as I write this letter. He has your eyes and hair, and the biggest smile you could ever imagine. He is, quite simply, my heart.

  I don’t remember if I told you, but I’m a paralegal, or was, until recently. We were fortunate that I’ve been able to make good money and fit my schedule around Trevor’s with the help of a good friend.

  That’s all changed. I was diagnosed several weeks ago with aggressive cancer. By the time I noticed any symptoms, it was already too late. The doctors have tried everything. They give me a few months, at most.

  I found you through a Google search, or at least, your family. The receptionist at MacLaren Cattle told me you were stationed at a base in California, and from there I was able to find your address. Your name is on his birth certificate, and my attorney has your contact information. I’m sure you may be skeptical, and there is no issue getting a DNA test to confirm he is yours. My attorney is prepared to help with whatever you need.

  I pray you will be able to take our son and give him the love he deserves. If not, I have a couple of friends who’ve offered to be his guardians. It’s not my first choice, as I think he should be with his father, but only if you want him and can provide a stable home.

  Contact information is enclosed. I hope to hear back from you soon.

  Sydney Powell

  Trey dropped the letter on the bed, staring at it as his mind raced over the implications of what he’d read. He paced to the sliding glass door that led out to a small balcony and pushed it aside, letting the cool, evening desert air wash over him. He walked out and rested his hands on the rail, taking several deep breaths before hanging his head and closing his eyes.

  He wasn’t sure how long he’d been outside, when he heard Jesse call his name as she entered their bedroom. Trey didn’t turn toward her.

  Jesse closed the door and looked around before noticing that the sliding door to the balcony was open. She started toward it, when she spotted the letter, open on the bed, and a picture lying beside it. She reached down and picked up the photo of a smiling little boy. Then she picked up the letter and saw it was addressed to Trey. Jesse stepped to the open door.

  “Trey, are you all right?” He didn’t answer. She looked at the letter in her hand. “Does it have anything to do with this?” She walked up and held it in front of him.

  He didn’t look at her when he answered. “Go ahead, read it.”

  Jesse read the letter, not wanting to accept what it said. “My, God.” She placed a hand over her mouth, then fell silent.

  Minutes passed and neither said a word. Jesse drew in a long breath and stepped closer to Trey.

  “What are you going to do?”

  He turned to look at her. “Call the attorney and get the details on a DNA test, then wait for the results. If Trevor proves to be my son, I’ll fly out and get him, and bring him home to be with me.”

  “You’ll bring him here?” Jesse was still processing the information. She knew her words sounded harsh, but the letter had not only impacted Trey—it affected her as well. They weren’t engaged and hadn’t committed to anything beyond their current living arrangement. She needed time to figure it all out.

  Trey could see the confusion and disbelief on her face, knowing it didn’t bode well for them. Jesse wasn’t ready to commit to him, and that was without the prospect of an immediate family.

  “This is where I live, Jess. Where else would I take him?” He walked past her, into the bedroom, then into the bathroom, anger replacing shock as her response sunk in.

  Jesse could hear the shower. She sat on the edge of the bed and covered her face with both hands. There was no doubt she was in love with Trey. Besides the Navy, he was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She’d just gotten her first true duty station, just started on a career that would span at least a few more years. She fell back on the bed and hooked one arm over her eyes.

  Trey stepped out of the bathroom to see Jesse on the bed. At least she hadn’t run. He needed her here tonight, the feel of her next to him as he tried to assimilate the life-altering news in the letter. He walked to her side of the bed and turned off the light, then made his way around, pulled back the covers, and crawled in.

  “Come on, Jess. Lay with me.” He placed a hand on her leg and rocked it slightly. “We’ll figure this out once I call the attorney tomorrow.”

  She stood, peeled off her clothes, then snuggled in next to Trey, wrapping an arm over his wide chest. “I do love you, Trey,” she whispered.

  “I love you too, Jess.” He pulled her on top of him, cupped her face between both hands, then drew her down for a long, passion filled kiss.

  She wrapped her hands in his hair, moving with him as he shifted his mouth over hers. His hands moved down her body, holding her to him as he lifted his hips to align with hers, letting her know what he needed.

  Jess sat up, removed her sheer tank top, and let her body slide down his. She needed this night as much as Trey. A fleeting thought flashed over her as her lips moved over his taut stomach. This may be the last night for a while, where they could lose themselves in each other without living the changes they both knew were coming.

  Chapter Five

  Four days later, Trey was in the family plane, flying back to the base after his father’s wedding. It had been a beautiful ceremony and Annie had been a stunning bride. He’d considered telling his dad of the letter from Sydney but thought better of it. Until he got the results of the DNA test, there was no point in bringing his family into it.

  Trey had called the attorney at first light, the morning after he’d received Sydney’s letter. It was seven o’clock in Pensacola, but her attorney picked up on the second ring.

  “Mr. Egan, my name is Trey MacLaren. I’m calling about a letter I received from Sydney Powell.”

  “Yes, Mr. MacLaren. I’m glad you called. But first, I must ask, do you believe you could be Trevor’s father?”

  There was short pause. “Yes, sir, I believe it’s possible.”

  “All right then. We don’t
know how much time Sydney has, although the doctors give her no more than a few months. Are you amenable to a DNA test?”

  “Yes, sir. The sooner the better.”

  The attorney told him what to do, as well as the next steps if the test proved positive. Trey hung up, waited until the lab Mr. Egan had recommended opened, and made an appointment. After providing the lab with what was needed, he’d flown to his father’s wedding, did the best he could to hide his anxiety, and flew home. All he could do was wait.

  Trey watched the clouds pass by as Robert made his descent into the local airport. He reached for his wallet and pulled out the small photo of Trevor. Sydney was right—the boy’s smile could melt the coldest of hearts. Fifteen minutes later, he thanked Robert, grabbed his bag, and walked down the stairs to the tarmac. He spotted Reb right away, but saw no sign of Jesse.

  Trey walked up to his best friend, still scanning the area for any sign of Jesse. “Where is she?”

  Reb jammed both hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. “She thought it would be better if I picked you up. She’s struggling, Trey. Doesn’t have a clue how to act or what to do.”

  “And she thinks I do?” He was angry. The test results weren’t even back yet and she was already backing off, giving up on them.

  “Give her time, man. She went for a run with some of the guys from her squadron. Should be home by the time we get there.”

  Trey threw his bag into the back of Reb’s truck and climbed in. Anger worked its way up his body, until he could no longer contain his thoughts. “Shit. What a mess.”

  “That it is, but it will work out. No matter what, you’re stuck with Growler and me. Hey, remember that movie, Three Men and a Baby?”

  Trey scrubbed his hands over his face. “Ah, shit,” he repeated, and sat back for the short trip home.

  ******

  He’d showered, stowed his gear, then plopped in front of the television, watching some unimportant baseball game and listening to Reb and Paul argue over whose turn it was to clean the oven. Trey looked at his cell. No message or text from Jesse. He heard the front door open and swung his eyes toward it.