“What are you saying?”
“Marry me, Whitleigh Haynes. After Basic.”
Whitleigh’s gasp caught. “I… I….” Her mind raced. So much to consider. Too much to consider. “I can’t.”
Chapter 4
COLLIER slouched against the inside of a phone booth, one hand over his heart. The bright Fort Benning, Georgia morning sun bore down on the glass walls, allowing intensifying heat to pass through. Sweat and water dripped from the tip of his nose, splattering against the toe of his muddy boots. Slick perspiration from the morning’s grueling training soaked him to the core, but Whit’s response tore at his being more than the demands of any drill sergeant. Soldiers, as worn as he, stood in a long procession, quarters in hand, waiting their turn for the phone. Collier squinted, tears stinging his eyes. His dry throat cracked as he struggled for words.
“Whit.” He whispered the only audible word he could manage.
“Collier… I… what about school? My scholarship? What will my mom and dad say? And what about the mission trip this summer I’ve been saving —”
“Please, just listen before you say anything else.” Collier scratched at his head. “I’ve been praying about when to propose and I keep hearing now. I know it’s crazy.”
“Beyond.”
“Tell me you don’t want to marry me.”
“It’s not that. You know I do.”
“I can take care of you, be a good husband.” Collier swiped a hand over his forehead, eyebrows drawn tight. “I drew out a few pie graphs and charts. From the looks of it, I’m pretty sure I can provide a nice life for you, Whit.” Collier bit his bottom lip, scratching his thumbnail over a crack in the glass.
“Pie graphs?”
“You of all people should appreciate the planning I put into this.”
“Planning? You call this planning?”
Collier bobbed on the balls of his feet. “I even sent a copy of the charts to your dad. He should’ve gotten them by now.”
“Oh, Collier.”
“I wish I would’ve had a chance to ask your dad for your hand in marriage the proper way, but a letter is the best I can do now.” The phone line remained silent. Collier wrung the metal phone cord around his wrist. “Whit, it looks like I’m going to be stationed in Colorado for a while and not Fort Campbell like we hoped.”
He noted her gulp and twisted his lips to the side. She usually said more.
“Whit, you’re the only one I want at my side. I don’t know how often I’ll be able to come see you when I’m out west for a few years, and well, long distance relationships….” he let the sentence end. “Please say something, anything.”
“I want to say yes, Collier. I do… but….”
“Then say yes, Whit.” Did his voice sound too pleading? “I know this isn’t a proper proposal. I’m sorry about that — I am. Whit, I love you, and I know you love me. Let’s take a leap of faith and do this. Be my wife Whitleigh Haynes, and make me the happiest man in the world.”
“Collier.”
“Whit, what’s holding you back? You love me, right?”
“That’s not even a question.” She made a clicking noise with her mouth. “You make it sound so easy to say yes.”
“It is.”
Whitleigh’s laugh sounded exhausted. “This isn’t what we planned.”
“Plans work out in a perfect world, not this one. Let go of your calendar, Whit.” He rested an arm on top of the black metal phone box. “You talked about your life calling with passion—that there’s something bigger out there for you. Bigger than Honduras, remember?”
Her sigh rattled the phone reception.
Collier closed his eyes and sent up a prayer.
“I’m positive there are excellent universities out in Colorado, and other scholarships. I’ll make sure we have the means so you can finish and become a teacher. I want to help make that dream come true for you. Help make my dream come true and marry me.”
“You’re asking me to marry you in a few months, drop my summer plans, move to Colorado, and leave everything I’ve ever known.”
“I’m asking you to take a leap of faith with me.” Collier closed his eyes, sending up a prayer. Please say yes.
Her angst flowed through the phone alongside her fears — each one valid. Collier waited.
Whit breathed into the receiver. “I’ve wanted to be your wife since our first date. Even in high school, I knew.” She sighed. “The way you love God and others… it motivates me. Keeps me going.”
“So, you’re saying?”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She made that clicking noise again. Collier held his breath. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“You won’t regret it.” Collier threw a fist in the air. “Guys, she said yes.” Deep voices cheered and clapped. They took turns slapping well-wishes on Collier’s back. He plugged his ears, juggling the phone between his neck and shoulder. “Baby, I have to go. My time is up.”
“But, we don’t have this planned out. When is the wedding? Where? How expensive is this going to be?”
“I’ll call you soon.” Collier grimaced under another heavy hand walloping against his back. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe we could head to the courthouse.”
“What? No.”
“Oh, you should be getting another letter in the mail.”
“But —”
“Gotta go. Love you, Babes. See in you in June at basic graduation.” Collier kissed the phone and hung it up with a click. He high-fived his buddies and tried to avoid Haden’s bear hug, but failed.
“You’re crushing me, Haden.” Collier’s words wheezed. He pried his arms out of his buddy’s hold. “Now it’s your turn to ask Emilee.”
“In good time.” Haden’s face lit up, too jolly for a stocky man who resembled more of a lumberjack than a soldier. “Right now we’ve got to turn you into wedding material.”
Collier crossed his arms, one hand cupping his chin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ve got to be able to waltz Whit across the dance floor.” Haden held a proper waltz pose and swayed.
Collier doubled over, chuckling. “Yeah, right after combatives we’ll see how many guys want to take dance class with Haden the hunter.”
“Laugh, but a woman wants to be romanced, pursued, and spun around a room.”
“I’m romantic.”
“Whatever you say,” Haden grumbled, eyes crinkling around the edges. “There’s always room for improvement.”
“We better get moving. Formation soon.” Keeping a drill sergeant waiting never turned out well. Collier broke into a jog. Haden kept up at his side. His buddy made sense about romancing Whit, sweeping her off her feet. Collier raked his teeth over his bottom lip. She deserved a proper proposal, a suitable dance partner at their wedding, and more. Much more.
RED Georgia clay covered Collier from head to toe. His arms shook with each push up. His muscles groaned in protest. Two more. One. Done. He collapsed and then rolled to his side. What a way to end the day. Whitleigh said yes and the drill sergeant said don’t stop.
“C’mon Haden, you got this.” Collier punched the ground in front of Haden’s face.
Haden grumbled. His burly body struggled with the physical demands of basic training.
“Don’t go out like this. Keep going. Remember why you’re doing this.”
“For me and Emilee. To pay for college. Make something of myself.” Haden’s words mixed with spit.
“That’s right. We’ve all got a reason. Stay focused.” Like him.
The drill sergeant marched past. “Cromwell, get away from Deel. He’s about to quit.”
“No Drill Sergeant.” Collier jumped to his feet, boots sinking in the mud. He stood at attention alongside his comrades. “He’s just getting started.”
The drill sergeant faced Collier, his nose touching the tip of Collier’s nose. “Your buddy here isn’t a PT stud like you. He’s not cut out to be an infantryman.”
&nb
sp; “I’d rather Haden have my back in battle any day over any other soldier here, Drill Sergeant.”
“That so?”
Haden mumbled and spit as he fought to complete his task. “Let it go, Collier.”
Collier kept his eyes forward, careful not to eyeball the drill sergeant.
The drill sergeant prowled around Collier, eyeing him up and down. “Maybe you’d like to take your friend’s spot.”
Muffled gasps fell from the other cadets’ mouths. Collier’s heart raced within his chest. His muscles moaned. “Yes, Drill Sergeant.” Collier knelt to the ground, arms shoulder length apart.
“Give me his fifty and I won’t push Deel out, but,” the drill sergeant cackled, “I doubt he’ll make it to graduation.”
Collier squared his jaw. Haden would make it, and everyone else if he had a hand in it.
Haden knelt at Collier’s side. “You don’t have to do this.”
“You didn’t have to help me shine my boots.” Collier managed a sputter of words. “Or help Hiller clean toilets with a toothbrush.”
“Face in the mud, Cromwell.” The drill sergeant marched on, his boots fading from Collier’s line-of-sight. “Get some of that Georgia clay. Tastes spot on like a peach, right?”
“Yes, Drill Sergeant.” Collier licked his lips. Clay mud tasted nothing like a peach.
Haden squinted. Lines creased his forehead.
Collier clenched his teeth as his elbows bent to lower his chest to the ground. “You didn’t have to help Langston peel potatoes in the chow hall either, but you did.”
“Don’t let him break you, Cromwell.” The other soldiers rallied close. Sweat fell from the tip of Collier’s nose. He lifted his eyes. Combat boots and camo pants surrounded him. They stomped the ground and cheered.
His heart swelled. These soldiers weren’t his friends. They were closer. Like brothers—closer than anyone he knew from back home, except Whit, of course.
Collier pushed on and up. “I’ve been broken, but right now, I’ve never felt more whole.” He sent up a prayer for strength. Strength to endure. To thrive. To be the husband to Whit that God intended, to defend his brothers, and to keep to the plan God set for him — service to Him through the military, no matter how difficult.
MOONLIGHT shone through the barrack windows. An owl hooted in the distance. Collier lay still, his muscles ached—more like throbbed with a heartbeat of their own. Taking Haden’s load of pushups didn’t appease the drill sergeant. His buddies fell asleep, warm in their bunks, way before the drill sergeant saw fit to let Collier free for the night.
More pushups. A late night run. Jogging in place while the drill sergeant threw buckets of water over his head. Insane PT torture. Who knew speaking up for a friend could hurt so bad. So worth it. Collier cracked a smile. He didn’t break. The drill sergeant tried, but by the grace of God Collier had endured.
“Thank you, Lord.” His eyes closed and thoughts of Whit flooded his mind. She’d be his wife—the woman he’d share the rest of his life with. “Lord, thank you for Whit. I know she has a lot of reservations and fear, but you see her heart. She’s brave and you know it as well as I do.” He yawned and pulled letters and a small LED light from beneath his pillow. “Help her to see herself the way you do—fearless.”
Collier thumbed through the stack of letters. Professor Rhine wrote a small history lesson on the back of a Sites of Europe postcard. Nice man. Good man.
No letters yet from his college buddies. Figures. Dudes don’t really write dudes.
Whit’s parents wrote. He tapped the edge of the worn envelope. Wonder if they’d respond to the letters of proposal he sent. Collier’s stomach tightened and turned. He shoved the thought aside and reopened a larger envelope and slid out several sheets of paper.
The small, circular, blue light shone on the images. Crayon drawings of smiley faces, rainbows, and American flags brought a smile to Collier’s face. There were many creations from Brady, even Jameson and the other kids. Mrs. Ruthers’ Kindergarten class picture peeked from the pile. He held it between his fingers, taking time to scan the faces of each child whose artwork tugged at his heart. Whit sat at the end of the middle row, cuddled against the small kids who appeared all too happy to be next to her. He knew the feeling.
Mindful of his aching muscles, Collier carefully tucked the colorful pictures back into their envelope. He moved the light to the next letter, the most recent from Whit. He yawned once more and his eyes grew heavy. There could be no better way to fall asleep than with her words next to him. Her letter warmed his heart and soothed away the soreness.
Dear Collier,
I'm thinking of the last kiss we shared. Maybe I think about it too much, but it helps me to hold on to the promise that we'll be man and wife in two short years… and then we can share more than a kiss.
Collier's ears grew hot and his neck followed suit. Even after reading her words for the fifth time he couldn't push past the wave of nervous excitement. Marriage had many benefits, and now, those perks were mere months away, not years. He wet his lips and continued to read.
I'm glad we've kept ourselves pure.
It wasn't without difficulty. Collier swallowed, but his cotton dry mouth made it trying.
To say and know we'll be each other's one and only… well, that's something special-a gift from God.
Yes, it was. Collier nodded.
While he and Whit set boundaries regarding their physical relationship and gave their friends full authority to keep them accountable, there seemed to be none amongst the soldiers. Pornographic images floated around the barracks and behind the drill sergeants' backs with a consistency that both tempted and repulsed him. Looking away proved a challenge, but he and Haden kept each other accountable. Collier blew out a short breath and read on.
Things are good here, even though I miss you a ton and a half. I do have more grumpy days than usual-Bryant helps bring those on, but Reese and Lennon snap me out of it.
Bryant. Collier narrowed his eyes. Friend or not, Bryant better keep his distance from Whit.
Classes are going. Twenty-one hours this semester may not have been the best idea with my schedule, but that's why I have an awesome calendar.
The kids at the elementary school are beyond ready for Spring Break. I'll miss seeing their sweet faces for a whole week. I won't know what to do with myself. Poor Mrs. Ruthers looks like she needs the break more than any of the kids! I wonder if I'll look like that after becoming a teacher. Ha!
Brady's dad is coming home on leave soon. You should see how happy he is. The whole class has been making cards, letters, and care packages for him and his unit. I know you keep telling me you're safe, but between Brady's dad, and Professor Rhine's war stories and lectures, I find myself praying more for your safety and for what the future may hold you… for us….
Collier rubbed at his shoulder. The muscle tightened at his touch. Training to be a soldier left little time to worry about anything else, especially war, but Whit's prayers were always welcome and appreciated.
We've been swamped at The Feeding Trawf. By the way, Andy says the owner is considering correctly spelling the name.
Finally. Collier held in a chuckle. His ribs throbbed and he winced.
Seems like they've won some best BBQ contest and he wants to give off a more professional appearance. Thought you'd appreciate that, and I thought you'd like to know that I've raised enough money to go to Honduras! Sold several more picture frames and racked up extra tips to help make it happen. Am I nervous? Terribly! Unsure? Still a little, but, Honduras it is!
Something to think about… I almost have enough money to cover the cost of someone else's trip… maybe you could come with me? Still have your passport, right? Not sure how many days you get off after you graduate basic.
Collier arched a brow. He did still have his passport from last year's mission trip to Jamaica. Perhaps he could go-after the wedding, or before? Collier twisted his mouth to the side. He could think
on that when he had more brain power.
It's getting late, so I'll close with this:
I love you more than:
1: Chocolate
2: My favorite pair of warm fuzzy socks (Yes, the ones with holes)
3: Climbing trees
4: The Kentucky Wildcats basketball team (Go Big Blue)
5: All the books on my bookshelf, minus the Bible of course
6: All my crafting supplies, yes, even glitter!!
7: Picnics
8: Classic Rock music, oh yes, even Credence Clearwater Revival (That's a lot of love going on there)
9: Antique stores! Believe it, it's true!
10: Myself. I will always love you more than myself. Always!
Love me always,
Whit, your Sweat Pea
Collier kissed the pink lip prints on top of the page. He smiled and closed his eyes with the letter tucked next to his side. Sleep welcomed him. His aching muscles relaxed. Images of Whit accompanied rest like a close friend. Her smile, her laugh. The way she danced as she walked. She hummed a tune as she rode shotgun in his Ford pickup. That long blond hair swirled in the wind. No, there wasn't a better way to fall asleep.
Chapter 5
LETTERS stamped, stacked, folded, opened, and worn, piled around Whitleigh. She sat on the cold dorm room floor, legs crossed and glue stick in hand, ready to scrapbook. If only she could concentrate. Her brain hurt. Thoughts swirled and swerved at super speeds through the freeway system of her mind.
Whitleigh wet her lips. Collier proposed this morning. She said yes. No, it wasn’t a dream.
Her fingers worked through the pages of the Kindergarten scrapbook with a mind of their own. Twinkling lights dangled from black and white tulle curtains hanging above the only window in the room. Her waitress apron hung on a hook near her half closet, washed and ironed, ready for her next shift. The painted cinder block walls displayed both posters and photographs in frames of various shapes and colors.
Reese tapped a pen against the side of her mouth and lounged in a pink beanbag chair. She flipped through budget building papers. Lennon typed away at her pint-sized corner desk. Her eyes fixed on the computer screen, tongue peeping through her lips. Each week, Lennon devised multiple plans for creating fresh water wells around the world. A corner of Whitleigh’s mouth lifted. College life and ideals for a better world consumed her friends, not weddings, or marriage, or war.
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