The Corporal and the Choir Girl

by Shanae Johnson

  He felt he should look away. Instead, Brandon tucked her under the covers. He prepared to leave her there to her thoughts when she reached for his hand. Her callused fingers felt fragile on his large palm.

  "They're all gone,” she whispered, her voice cracking as though it were dry from days in the desert.

  Brandon didn't answer. He pulled up a chair from the side of the room. He kept her hand in his and settled down by her side for the night.

  It wasn't like he'd get any sleep. He was certain he'd never sleep again. He'd taken not only her brother from her, but now he was responsible for her losing her home.

  Chapter Twelve

  Reegan woke up in an unfamiliar bed. Unfamiliar sheets. Unfamiliar ceiling fan. Unfamiliar curtains. Unfamiliar view.

  The funny thing was she didn’t feel out of place. She also didn’t feel alone. Somehow, the unfamiliar place felt like home.

  She looked to her right and saw why. Corporal Brandon Lucas was fast asleep in a chair beside the unfamiliar bed she was in. His big body in the small chair looked very uncomfortable.

  Realization hit her square in her chest. She was in Brandon’s bed. He’d brought her here last night after …

  Reegan closed her eyes. She wasn’t ready to face that reality. As long as she kept her eyes shut, as long as she kept the sun out, she didn’t have to remember what had happened.

  "I'm sorry."

  His deep voice penetrated the barrier she’d erected. The walls came crumbling down around her. She felt the heat of his gaze on her face. Reegan opened her eyes, and her heart nearly broke.

  There were dark circles under Brandon’s eyes. The whites of his eyes were red, not the way they would be from crying. The way they would be if he hadn’t gotten any sleep.

  "You don't sleep well?" she said.

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he took a deep inhale, his jaw tightening. He rearranged his large form in the small chair. Had he been there all night? Without asking, Reegan knew that he had.

  "Nightmares?" she asked.

  Now he looked away. Reegan moved the sheet from her body. She pressed her bare feet to the cold floor only to recoil and tuck them back underneath herself. Brandon inhaled sharply, as though he’d felt the attack of the cold as well.

  "Reece has them too,” she said. “The nightmares.”

  Brandon's gaze came back to hers. She knew without him saying that he had fixated on the present tense she used when she spoke about her brother. Her home and everything she owned might be gone, but she was even more certain now that Reece wasn’t.

  She turned to face the dawning sun. Clouds moved lazily in the early morning sky. She marveled that the scene was so peaceful after the destruction she’d witnessed the other night.

  She felt the loss of her home. The place she’d felt the safest all her life. The only place she’d known as home all her life.

  She felt the loss of her things. She only had the clothes on her back, and they weren’t her favorite. They still had the stains from when she’d been gardening the day before.

  More importantly, she’d lost all her journals, her favorite books, her CD collection, irreplaceable picture albums of her family. All gone.

  The loss hurt. But one thing remained true. She still felt in her soul that her brother’s heart was beating.

  That’s why she wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle of nothingness. She’d lost everything. But she hadn’t lost it all.

  Reece was still out there.

  She turned back to Brandon. He leaned forward, watching her intently, as though he feared she might fall apart at any second. “Why did you say you were sorry?”

  He gulped, the bob of his Adam’s apple loosened the steel of his jaw. “The fire was my fault.”

  Reegan turned her body fully to him. She placed her feet on the floor, ignoring the shock of cold that her toes met. “What are you talking about?”

  "If I hadn't been acting like a peeping Tom, you wouldn't have been distracted. You wouldn’t have burned the food.”

  The food? And then she remembered; Mrs. Russo’s casserole. "That casserole had been in the oven for at least thirty minutes before the fire happened. It wasn't your fault."

  Brandon looked doubtful. In fact, he looked as though a ton of guilt were on his shoulders. Not just the fire that had stolen her home from her.

  His shoulders looked rock hard as he sat straight. Reegan wanted to knead the worry out of him. How was it she'd lost everything, and all she wanted to do was comfort this man?

  Before she could make a move to offer him solace, the doorbell rang. His body went on full alert. His gaze softened when he turned back to her.

  "You don't have to see anyone if you don’t want to,” he said.

  She didn’t want to. All she wanted to do was sit quietly with him. She had to admit that a large part of her calm at this moment was due to the fact that Corporal Brandon Lucas made her feel safe.

  “I’ll get rid of them."

  When he stepped out of the room, Reegan pulled her socks on but left her shoes off. She looked around the bedroom. She knew the layout of the row houses having been inside a few of them for dinner with the permanent residents of the ranch.

  She knew each of the row houses sported two bedrooms. This room looked lived in but only sparsely. She could tell Brandon had claimed it.

  His large, khaki, unpacked duffle bag was in the corner. There was a picture on the bed stand. It was of a younger Brandon and an older man and woman she had to assume were his parents. She saw his uniform hanging in the closet. His polished boots below them. He’d been in a plain shirt and jeans that morning. It was what he’d been wearing last night as well.

  Reegan’s head lifted when she heard raised voices from the main room. She opened the bedroom door and stepped out.

  Brandon stood in the front doorway, his arms crossed like he was a great protector. He turned when he saw her. His look was fierce. Reegan pitied whoever was on the other side of the door.

  Coming farther into the room, she recognized who stood on the porch. It was Fire Marshal Porter.

  Seeing his orange jacket made all the memories of last night come crashing back to her. The fire. Her home in flames. The grim look on Mr. Porter’s face was confirmation; she had nothing to go back to.

  "It's all gone?" she asked.

  Mr. Porter nodded. She'd expected it. She waited for the impact to hit her in her chest. She waited for her legs to give out. She waited for the tears to sting her eyes.

  None of that happened. Losing her parents had been far worse. Learning Reece was missing was in second place. The house, it hurt, but at least she could replace some of what was lost there.

  "It's just stuff," she said. “I know my parents took out insurance. It will be enough to rebuild the house and replace some of the things that have been lost.”

  "That's the problem I was explaining to Corporal Lucas," said the fire marshal.

  “What problem?” asked Reegan. She looked from Mr. Porter to Brandon.

  Brandon was standing in front of her, facing off against the fire marshal as though ready to fight. But that was ridiculous. Nathan Porter was in his fifties. It would be no contest. And what reason would Brandon have to be angry at the man?

  "The house is in your brother's name,” said Mr. Porter.

  Reegan nodded. Reece had gotten the house. She had gotten cash. That was the way it was set up. She just wished she'd put the money into the wiring instead of waiting for her brother to get home for a DIY project. Then she wouldn't be in this mess.

  "The problem is that Reece is declared missing and not dead. There's no death certificate. Without the certificate, the insurance company won’t play ball. They won’t give you the money to rebuild.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  "I guess I'll have to move to California with my aunt."

  Brandon's head shot up at Reegan's words. He sat next to her on the couch in the small living room. Her hand was in his. He wasn't sure when th
at had happened, but he did nothing to discourage her strong hold on him.

  The fire marshal had long gone, but the news he'd delivered still singed the air. Reegan’s house would be declared a total loss. The fire had destroyed the kitchen and severely damaged the living room. The integrity of the upstairs was in question, not to mention that the wiring had proven itself a total fire hazard.

  Now, not only had Reegan lost everyone in her immediate family, she’d lost her home too. It was good that there was still an extended family that she could turn to. Brandon just didn’t understand why that family had to be so far away as California?

  "You'll stay with us," said Beth.

  Elsbeth Barrett and her father sat opposite them. Both Barretts eyed Reegan and Brandon’s joined hands. Brandon didn't make a move to let Reegan go. His grip loosened only slightly with Beth’s offer.

  Brandon wanted Reegan to stay right where she was so he could keep an eye on her. Or hold her hand if necessary. Or wrap her up in his arms when she grew weary.

  He knew where the Barretts lived. Their house was in town and not at the edge of the country. If Reegan stayed with the pastor and his daughter, he could at least see her from time to time. Or every day.

  Reegan shook her head. “You're getting married soon.”

  Beth blushed and looked away. Brandon had known a number of soon-to-be brides. He couldn’t remember one not beaming with anticipation anytime their impending nuptials were brought up.

  “And besides,” Reegan continued, seemingly oblivious to her friend’s discomfort, “I can't rain on Pastor Barrett's empty nest dreams."

  The older man smiled good-naturedly. “Don’t talk such nonsense. You've always been a second daughter to me. You're family, and you're welcome to stay as long as you like."

  But Reegan shook her head again, shutting her eyes. “If I did, I’d have to … see it.”

  She didn’t need to clarify what she didn’t want to see. When she opened her eyes, she smiled. The smile didn't reach her eyes.

  She turned her body to Brandon and squeezed his hand. There was a question in her gaze. Whatever her query was, she was uncertain of the ask. She needn’t be. Whatever she wanted Brandon would do whatever it took to give it to her.

  “Can I stay here for a while longer?” she asked.

  Gasps escaped both Barretts’s mouths. Both the pastor and his daughter’s gazes widened as though they spotted Beelzebub sitting on Brandon’s left shoulder.

  “In the spare bedroom of course,” Reegan clarified. “Just until I figure things out."

  This was far preferable to California. It was even better than her being in town at the Barretts. If she were in the next bedroom, he could watch over her constantly. He could hold her hand. He could hear her sing.

  When he didn’t answer, Reegan's face fell. "Unless … of course … you don’t … I didn't mean …"

  "You can stay as long as you like." Brandon blurted the words out.

  Relief touched her blue eyes. Her hold on him relaxed, but he held onto her tighter. He wanted to tug her to him, but he felt certain that would only confirm the presence of a little imp on his shoulder for the others.

  "But, Reegan, he's a stranger." The pastor's tone was gentle, but his stern gaze was firmly set on Brandon.

  "He was on my brother's team in the service," said Reegan. "Reece trusted him. He put his life in Corporal Lucas's hands. I see no problem with me doing the same, even if only temporary. Besides, you both know the garden is my happy place. I need a little happy in my life after all I’ve been through this week."

  Pastor Barrett looked as though he still wanted to argue the point. Brandon had the urge to ask them to leave. He didn’t want Reegan to be challenged, especially if that challenge meant she’d leave his presence.

  Luckily, it was Beth who spoke first. "If you think it’s best for you?”

  Reegan gave her friend a firm nod.

  Beth nodded too. “Well, then, all right."

  Beth rose and opened her arms to embrace Reegan. When Reegan stood, Brandon found he had trouble unlinking their entwined fingers. In the end, he did let go of her hand. She was staying with him.

  “I'll stop by tomorrow,” said Beth. “And don’t worry, no one's expecting you at choir practice tonight.”

  "No," said Reegan. "I'll be there. More than anything, I need to sing."

  "Okay, why don't you come into town with us.”

  "I can bring her," said Brandon. The words came out a bit too forceful. He couldn’t help it. The idea of Reegan leaving his sight unsettled him.

  Beth gave him another glance over beginning at his booted feet and ending at his hairline. Finally, she gave him one last nod. Then after a stern, sixty-second long gaze from Pastor Barrett that made Brandon feel like a naughty schoolboy, they were gone.

  When the door closed behind the Barretts, Reegan slumped back down on the couch and into Brandon’s side. He held her, resting his head atop hers. She'd held a brave front these last few days.

  Through it all, the news of her brother, her house burning down, she only showed her vulnerability when she was alone with him. Brandon's chest swelled that she trusted him with her worries and woes.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "I keep breaking down around you."

  "I've got you,” he assured her. “No one should have this much put on them."

  “I’m sure there's a lesson in here somewhere. Otherwise, what's the point?"

  There was no point. Bad things happened for no reason. Or simply because men wanted power.

  This woman needed a protector. Brandon had spent his life in service. He was sure he was the man for the job.

  "Maybe a change will do me good," Reegan said. "I should probably consider California."

  He stiffened beside her. He had to struggle to keep his hold on her light and not tighten like a vise. “But your life is here."

  He felt her nod her head against his chest. “This community is my family. But I should probably go and be with my actual blood. Aunt Prudence has been after me to come and visit for two years now, and I’ve just never found the time.”

  “A visit wouldn’t be so bad.” The words were forced from his mouth. Maybe he could make a road trip out of it, and he could drive her there?

  “I thought I’d have a family of my own by now and would have been moved out of the house.”

  A terrible thought went through Brandon’s mind. “You’re not … I mean, there’s no one … Are you dating anyone?”

  Reegan tilted her head back and looked up at him. She looked so soft and small. He shifted her head so that it was in the nook between his shoulder cap and neck. He could look down at this sight for the rest of his life.

  “I’m not interested in any man in town,” she said. “I watched them all grow up. I remember when they ate boogers. How can I kiss someone who ate his own boogers?”

  It was funny, but Brandon wasn’t laughing. He was too focused on the implications of that statement. “You've never kissed anyone?"

  Reegan’s cheeks reddened. She didn’t lift her head from his shoulder, but she did tilt her gaze down. “I didn't say that."

  By the way she looked away from him, Brandon got the feeling she hadn't. What was wrong with the men in this town? How could they resist the taste of the sweetness of her lips? They all were cracked in the head if they preferred boogers to Reegan Cartwright.

  But he had to put that aside. He didn’t want her thinking about other men. He definitely didn’t want her thinking of California.

  "But you'd rather stay here if you could?" he said.

  She lifted her gaze back to his, and his breath caught. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life. He would do anything to keep her close to him.

  “I would,” she said. “I love it here. I've never had any desire to leave. I'd miss the blooms. I'd miss my friends. I'd miss the choir."

  All of a sudden, her words made complete sense to him. He couldn’t see
any reason for leaving this place either? Especially if he saw the blooms while standing at her side. He’d happily mix with her friends. He definitely wanted to hear her sing every day for the rest of his life.

  "I mean, I could sing anywhere. But I love singing in that church surrounded by the people I’ve known all my life. It's all I've ever wanted to do. I'm afraid I don't have any other ambitions except to sing there. Sing solos, sing in a group, sing to myself."

  "So stay."

  “I will.”

  Reegan shifted her body until her forehead fit under his chin. Brandon’s hold tightened around her.

  “I'll stay for a while,” she said. “But if the paperwork with my brother doesn't get sorted, I can't afford my own place. All my spare money went into home repair."

  "So, stay here,” he said.

  Brandon’s heart raced inside his chest. He was certain she could feel it. The organ was pounding so hard he was sure it knocked against her skull.

  Reegan lifted her head and looked up at him, a question in her raised brows.

  "Stay here with me." Brandon heard his mouth speaking. He didn’t try to shut up. He agreed with every impulsive word he spoke. "You know how the Purple Heart Ranch works. Married soldiers get a house for their families, and then they can stay forever.”

  Reegan pushed away from him and sat up tall. Her lips parted as she regarded him. Had she stopped breathing as she waited for his next words?

  Brandon knew he’d stopped breathing as he waited for her to say something, anything. But she just stared. And so he allowed what was in his heart to fill the silence.

  "If we got married, you could have a home in your name. You'd be near the garden. You'd be near all of your friends. You wouldn't have to work a day in your life. And you could sing all you want.”

  Now that the words were out, he couldn't take them back. And the truth was, he didn't want to.