The Marine Makes His Match

by Victoria Pade

  “And he still doesn’t want to come home,” Kinsey said sadly, more to herself than to Conor.

  “He’s out of it, Kins—he doesn’t know what he’s saying and he won’t even remember he talked to you when he wakes up next. Orders are in to get him to Bethesda as soon as he can make the trip, though. And my leave to go along has come through, too, so we’ll both be there before you know it.”

  They’d be there and then they’d be gone again.

  But Kinsey didn’t say that, she only nodded.

  “How are you holding up?” she asked Conor instead. “You have bags under your eyes. Are you sleeping at all? Eating?”

  “I’ve just been sleeping in the chair in Declan’s room. Wanted to be close by. But I think he’s finally stable enough for me to hit a call room tonight and sack out. Food is hospital food—what can I say? You’ll have to cook me something good when I get there.”

  No time soon. But Kinsey knew he was trying to give her something to look forward to, so she didn’t call him on it.

  “How about you? You doing okay?” he asked.

  “Sure. Just working. My patient is a retired marine colonel—Geraldine Knightlinger. I don’t know if you’ve ever run across her or heard of her.”

  “I have!” Conor said. “I operated on a master gunnery sergeant who she got off some charges in Japan when he was a private. Talkative older man. I guess it was looking bad for him until she got there. He said I was the second person to save his life, that she was the first,” he finished with a laugh.

  “She’s an interesting woman,” Kinsey agreed.

  “And keeping you busy.”

  “Busy enough,” she confirmed.

  “So you haven’t had the time to do anything about the Camdens, right?”

  “Not yet,” she said, omitting the fact that since their previous video chat she’d been with them for Sunday dinner. She didn’t want to tell her brother and risk revealing the feelings that had come out of that dinner. She knew if she showed Conor any doubt about the course she’d set for herself he would press her again to let her plans drop.

  “Just keep thinking about Declan and me being on our way there,” he said.

  “Sure,” she repeated. “Have you heard anything from Liam?”

  “No. But I got word out to him about Declan so when he’s able, I’m sure I will hear from him.”

  Something behind the screen caught Conor’s eye and when he looked at Kinsey again he said, “I’m gonna have to go. One of Declan’s machines is flashing—he needs a refill of pain meds. I don’t want it overlooked.”

  “Take good care of him,” Kinsey said.

  “I am. And he’s doing fine. He really is, no matter how bad he looks.”

  “Take care of yourself, too,” Kinsey said.

  “We love you, twerp.”

  “I love you guys, too.”

  Kinsey closed her computer and sank back into her couch cushion, closing her eyes. It wasn’t yet six and she was still in her pajamas. She could have gone back to bed.

  But she knew she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again so she just rested there, thinking.

  How many mornings had she had like that—rising before dawn in order to connect with one of her brothers in a distant time zone? In order to connect with Trevor when he was away?

  Too many to count.

  She’d always been willing to do it, to go to any length to talk to one of them, to see them if that was possible. But it wasn’t the same as them being there with her. It just wasn’t. And afterward—every time—she was still faced with going on with her day, her week, her month, her life, on her own. Like she would today.

  And even though that didn’t feel dreary and lonely to her on this particular day because she was eager to see Sutter, she hadn’t forgotten all the other days that had felt all the more empty to her after one of these calls that gave her only a few minutes’ taste of family. A few minute’s taste of the relationship she’d had with Trevor, too.

  Absentee family. Absentee fiancé. Somehow touching base with them highlighted the loneliness she felt when the call was over.

  And there Declan had been, lying in a hospital bed, so hurt and still so eager to get back to his unit. To return to being a marine.

  Just like Sutter was doing.

  Sutter was so determined to recover and return to duty that he was working through his physical therapy exercises like no one she’d ever seen before—so many times a day she’d had to warn him to slow down.

  He was forgoing the sling more and more, not to mention working out alone on Beau Camden’s equipment every day to keep the rest of that gorgeous body in fighting shape.

  All with one goal: to go back to his unit.

  And that’s how it would always be, Kinsey told herself, because Sutter was just like her brothers. Just like Trevor.

  Going away was what they did.

  Leaving behind people who cared about them.

  So regardless of how much she kept thinking about Sutter; regardless of how much she’d liked kissing him or how much she liked being with him, talking to him; regardless of how much he made her laugh or how good he made her feel, she absolutely could not pin on him a single hope for anything.

  It was a fact, pure and simple. And she knew it.

  Yet he did make her laugh and feel alive and light-hearted. He did keep her on her toes in a way that was exciting—mentally and physically. She did like talking to him and joking with him and even being teased by him. And oh, she really liked kissing him, and she wanted him to kiss her again.

  Despite knowing with every fiber of her being that it was only temporary—like visits from her brothers—she couldn’t stop the way she felt.

  This was temporary when what she wanted was permanence!

  She’d actually shouted that at herself in the shower yesterday morning.

  But nothing changed.

  And she was getting tired of fighting it.

  Fighting a losing battle.

  So maybe she should stop fighting. Maybe she should just take the chemistry between her and Sutter for what it was.

  A self-regulating situation.

  Sutter was going to leave. That was inevitable.

  And when he did, the rest would end on its own. It would have to—he wouldn’t be around for her to talk to, to joke and laugh with, to tease or goad or ogle or kiss.

  Any time with him—like any time with her brothers—had its own limited life span.

  When her brothers came, she blocked out that time to do nothing but be with them so they could catch up, so they could tell old stories and relive those things she shared only with them, so they could reconnect.

  All the while knowing it was going to end.

  Could she do something like that with Sutter?

  Maybe she could look at it—at this time with him—exactly the way she looked at visits from her brothers. A fleeting thing that she should enjoy while it lasted.

  Always, always, always keeping in the back of her mind that it wouldn’t go anywhere beyond right now.

  She hadn’t done that with Trevor. She’d held out hope that they could have a real life together. She’d fed the fantasy that things would change because they were going to get married. And that had been her downfall, ending her short-lived engagement and leaving her hurt and frustrated and angry.

  All because she hadn’t been realistic.

  But her eyes were wide open now. And she knew better than to expect any more from men like her brothers, like Trevor, like Sutter.

  And if she couldn’t conquer this fixation she had on him, maybe she should just go with it. Give in to it. For now.

  She certainly wasn’t getting anywhere doing the opposite. Actually, her attraction to him was growing stronge
r and stronger by the minute in spite of her fight against it.

  So maybe letting it run its course—and keeping constantly in mind that its course was a flash in the pan—was a better idea.

  As long as she never let herself think for even a split second that anything more could come of it.

  And as long as she continued to work toward getting to know the Camdens, toward a time when she could reveal who she was and hopefully have a lifetime relationship with them.

  Then, with a family foundation to stand on and the itch for Sutter scratched, she could move on to finding a man, a husband who would be around, who would be there for her, every single day.

  A man who she knew without question wouldn’t be Sutter.

  And Sutter could just be a memory of a tryst she’d had en route to the life she was aiming for.

  Not that she would drag him to bed the next time she saw him. But she was going to ease up on herself and let this play out to its natural end.

  She breathed another sigh, this one of a sort of relief—like finally giving in to a craving and eating the last chocolate doughnut in the box.

  She’d been struggling so much against the draw of Sutter and now she gave herself permission to just let it pull her in without a battle.

  It was liberating.

  Within limits.

  The limits being that she not forget that an end was looming and would ultimately and inevitably come.

  * * *

  “She can walk just fine on her own, you know.”

  Kinsey laughed at Sutter’s muttering under his breath.

  Friday was Veterans Day. With a slow pace and multiple rests to accommodate the colonel, Kinsey, Sutter, the colonel and next-door-neighbor Sol had gone to the parade, the remembrance ceremony and then the festival in Civic Center Park.

  As they approached the event, Sol had offered the colonel his arm. And she’d taken it.

  Walking behind them, Sutter watched it happen, and it provoked his muttering.

  “She’s doing better every day, but don’t forget that she’s still a little weak,” Kinsey said quietly, amused by his brooding. “And remember that this is part of what you want—for her to have company.”

  Sutter frowned down at her. “So I can’t yell no touching?”

  Kinsey laughed. “No, you can’t.”

  A growl rumbled in his throat that also made her grin.

  “Just chill out,” she advised. “He’s only offering her a little help. It’s not as if they’re holding hands. He’s just being a gentleman. You marines are supposed to be all about that, aren’t you?”

  “He’s army.”

  Kinsey bumped Sutter’s side with her hip. “Get over it,” she commanded with another laugh.

  He turned his handsome face toward her to glare at her, but there was enough of a hint of a smile playing around the corners of his mouth to let her know she’d succeeded in distracting him from some of his disapproval.

  “If they get married you’ll have to give away the bride because I won’t,” he warned with mock sternness.

  “Happy to,” Kinsey declared.

  He beetled his brows at her and made her laugh yet again.

  With Sol’s support, the colonel lasted longer than Kinsey had expected. And once Sutter got over seeing his mother on the arm of a man other than his father, he got into the swing of things, too.

  They toured the vintage military vehicles on display from the parade and watched uniformed men and women pose for pictures.

  There was a beer garden where they took a long rest midafternoon and enjoyed a sampling from small local breweries. They tried food from several of the trucks, listened to live music and watched some of the games being played. They also made the rounds to all the vendors and booths.

  Sutter showed particular interest in those booths offering resources, services and information on services for veterans, taking it all in and collecting brochures and pamphlets.

  “I had no idea there was as much need as there is for help for returning vets,” he commented when the day was done and they’d returned to his SUV.

  “It can be rough,” Sol responded, jumping into the conversation. “With the drawdown reducing active duty forces, there’s a lot of people coming back.”

  The older man helped the colonel climb into the backseat as he went on. “It’s rougher on some than others. I volunteer a day a week down at the DAV and you’d be surprised at all the troubles that I run across. Problem is, sometimes there’s more need than resources...or people willing to help.”

  Sol got in after the colonel and closed the door as Sutter reached for the handle on the passenger door.

  Before he could open it for Kinsey, she whispered, “See, he volunteers. He’s a nice man.”

  Sutter leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Horndog.”

  Then with a grin that said he was joking, he opened the door and waited for a chuckling Kinsey to get in.

  They went for a light dinner at a pizza place a few blocks from home, where Sol talked about two of his own sons’ return from serving in the military. About how jobs hadn’t been easy for them to find because their military experience wasn’t the background employers were looking for. About how both sons had needed to live with him for a time because they hadn’t been able to afford civilian housing. And even once they’d had jobs, they’d had difficulties finding financing for homes because of their limited credit histories. All of that was on top of the other mental and emotional struggles they’d faced readjusting to civilian life.

  “I had no idea,” Sutter repeated as he pulled into the driveway once dinner and the conversation was done.

  It was after nine o’clock by then and even Sol was showing signs of fatigue. Sutter had won a seven-layer chocolate torte at one of the festival’s game booths where proceeds went to benefit retiring vets. The plan had been for everyone to come inside and have it for dessert, but Sol begged off and bid them all good-night at the car.

  “I’m thinking along those same lines,” the colonel said as Sol crossed their yards to his own house. “I just want my brandy and my bed. You two eat the cake.”

  Inside Kinsey sent the colonel upstairs while she took off the jacket she’d worn over jeans and a double layer of T-shirts—a green V-neck over a paler green tank top with tiny crocheting at the top edge.

  Then she headed to the colonel’s bedroom while Sutter went to deal with the yipping Jack.

  The older woman was already in her connecting bathroom when Kinsey got there so she turned down the bed, arranged the oxygen tubes and poured a small amount of brandy to have it waiting when the colonel came out in her flannel pajamas. She was also using a knit headband that held her hair back, keeping it from entangling with the oxygen tubes when she slept—Kinsey’s solution to the colonel’s latest complaint against her nightly prescribed treatment.

  “I’m beat,” the elderly woman proclaimed as she got into bed.

  “I’ll bet. How are you feeling otherwise, though?” Kinsey asked.

  “All right,” she answered with some satisfaction.

  Kinsey listened to her heart, took her blood pressure and pulse, then handed her the oxygen tubing as she sat back against her pillow.

  “But just keep telling my son that I need to take Sol’s arm for support if that makes him feel better,” the colonel went on a few minutes later as if there hadn’t been any interruption.

  Kinsey was amused by the slyness in the older woman’s tone. “You have hearing like an elephant’s, huh?”

  The colonel gave a smug smile. “It’s always been good. Luckily Sol’s isn’t as sharp so he didn’t hear that ‘no touching’ thing this afternoon. You’re right, though, Sol is just being a gentleman. No harm in it.”

  “No, there isn’t. I think Sutter reali
zes that—he just has to adjust a little.”

  “And you’re also right about it being nice to have a little company my own age,” the colonel said. “I didn’t think so before, but it’s good to talk to someone who’s like-minded and sees my point of view without thinking I’m an old relic.”

  “Sure,” Kinsey agreed.

  “What about you?”

  “Me?” she said with some surprise.

  “My son could be a good catch, you know. For the right woman. And the two of you seem to be getting along pretty well—private jokes and what have you...”

  Clearly the colonel wanted it known that nothing avoided her notice. But Kinsey’s only answer was, “He has some strong opinions about that.”

  “I know. Change his mind.”

  Kinsey laughed but for the first time today it didn’t hold much humor. “I don’t think that’s possible, Colonel.”

  “Anything’s possible,” the older woman muttered as she opened the new copy of the book Kinsey had brought her, picked up her brandy and proceeded as if Kinsey had already left.

  Still, as she did every night, Kinsey said on her way out of the room, “I’ll check on you before I leave.”

  Then she went to the kitchen where she could hear Sutter chastising Jack.

  “What’d he do now?” she asked as she joined them.

  “One step out of the crate, on his way to the doggy door, and he still couldn’t just go out without making any trouble, he had to try snatching the keys I dropped. I barely caught him or we’d be outside with the flashlights again.”

  “Stinker! Go outside and run around,” Kinsey said affectionately to the puppy.

  As if he understood, Jack did just that, giving a little bark when he was through the door to announce himself to the yard.

  “Cake?” Sutter said then, nodding at the baker’s box on the counter that held his prize.

  “I never turn down chocolate.”

  As he cut wedges of cake, she got two small plates for him to put them on and said, “I see the sling is off again but I’m glad you wore it today.”

  “Nurse’s orders,” he said as if he’d only been humoring her.

  Minus the sling he had on jeans and a cream-colored Irish fisherman’s rib turtleneck sweater. And as usual, he was something to see.