One Year to Forever (Halos & Horns

by Lori Leger

  His mother stopped him at the door. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “You said we could do whatever we wanted right here. We’re going to my room.” He swung around and waved at the rest of his family. “See y’all later.”

  “Put me down now, Benjamin.” Haley’s voice came out in a low, furious hiss.

  Monica’s laughter rang out as she forcefully pushed her son away from the door. “You know what I meant, smart ass. Now put that poor girl down before she dies of embarrassment.”

  Ben chuckled as he set Haley gently down on two feet. “Hey, it didn’t hurt to try.”

  Haley covered her face with two hands, at a complete loss for words.

  “Now see? Look what you’ve done to her.” Monica gave her a one-armed hug. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We all understand. I guess shame kind of flies out the window when you spend time cooped up with a bunch of Marines. We’ve met some of his buddies, you know. Believe me, when they get together, they’re nothing but a bunch of goofballs.”

  “Hey.” Ben lifted Haley’s chin and kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”

  “Oh please.” Her voice came out in an indignant huff as she pushed playfully at his hands. “You’ve been doing it the entire time we’ve been together, so don’t start lying now.”

  His shoulders shook with laughter. “I know, right? I thought you would have gotten used to it by now.”

  She put her hands on her hips to send him a hard glare, trying to retain at least a little of her anger. His beautiful smile cut through her pout, and had her shaking her head. “Nope, you’re too adorable to stay mad at.”

  “Really? Tell that to the hadjis.” He pulled her close to plant an innocent kiss on her mouth then pulled back to stare adoringly down at her.

  Haley laughed as one fat raindrop landed on Ben’s nose, then another, and several more, giving them all just enough notice to scramble into the house before the skies opened up in a heavy deluge.

  “Anything on the tube?” Ben grabbed the remote, settling on a rerun of Iron Man. He occupied one end of the couch, pulling Haley next to him to watch the movie as his step-dad, Big Ben, got the room’s fireplace going for the first time that year. Haley wasn’t crazy about cold weather, but figured she didn’t mind it so badly if it meant spending the evening with Ben in front of a nice, warm fireplace.

  By eleven o’clock that Friday night, everyone else had hit the sack except for him and Haley. He turned off the flat screen and stared into the crackling fire. They sat, with her back to his chest and both stretched out on the length of the overstuffed sofa. His chin rested on her head, both arms wrapped around her as he curled a lock of her hair around his right forefinger.

  A long, low sigh escaped from her to grab at his attention. He leaned over, pulling her hair back to get a better look at her. “You all right, babe?”

  Silence permeated the air, interrupted by a pop and hiss of a log on the fireplace. Delectable aromas filled the air … a combination of oak logs and a faint trace of the gumbo he’d requested earlier, coming from his mom’s kitchen. “Haley?”

  The telltale shaking of her shoulders alerted him to the tears he knew she’d held back all night. He lifted her, turning her in his arms so that she faced him. At first, he tried to stop her, but once he realized the futility in that, he held her tighter and let her cry. He knew she’d find the strength she needed to see him off at the airport on Sunday morning. But for tonight, he sensed she needed this release—needed to purge her heart of the overwhelming fear of letting him go, of possibly losing him. He’d known that fear once. That was before he’d faced it head on, and then mastered it—kicked its ass into submission. He’d traded it in for the distinct rush of adrenaline that appeared during a mission with his team, cut off from the rest of his platoon in some remote area of Afghanistan.

  Suddenly he understood. She wasn’t him. She wouldn’t get to feel that rush, have her days too full to think about him being on missions, or getting blown up by an IED. Once he left her, all she’d feel was alone.

  “I’ll be back, Haley. You know that, right?”

  She nodded, managed to sputter something that he took for “You’d better, dammit—” and continued to sob into his T-shirt.

  “I’m coming back for you, babe. I promise.” He’d always told himself he’d never make that promise. Too many people had died out there, Marines as well as other military personnel, who’d made promises they couldn’t keep. But here and now, he promised himself, as well as Haley, that he would do whatever it damned well took to come back to her.

  Suddenly, as sure as he embraced the sweet weight of her in his arms, he sensed he was right about this. He would be back for her, if she still wanted him.

  That was his only fear, the one thing completely out of his control.

  Would she still want him by the time he made it back? Some women couldn’t take being alone; he’d damn sure seen that happen with other guys. Would Haley be willing, or able to wait for him?

  He realized he had one year to make sure she would.

  Ben held Haley close, letting her cry until she fell asleep in his arms, her face planted on his chest.

  While she slept, he plotted. He came up with ideas, plans to lessen her pain of having him gone. Tomorrow was Saturday, the only day he had left to put things in motion. He set his watch alarm to make sure he got up early enough to get a good start. He’d need to make two important stops in the morning, and hopefully he could get it done before Haley woke up.

  He laughed inwardly at himself. Here he was, a U.S. Marine, making romantic plans to ensure the exhausted girl asleep in his arms wouldn’t forget about him. Better yet, that she would have a reason to smile at least once a week.

  He buried his face in her hair, inhaled the scent, a mixture of shampoo, mixed with smoke from the fire pit outside—then into the crook of her neck for a whiff of the perfume that drove him nuts when she was anywhere near him.

  How the hell did this happen to him?

  Haley shifted slightly, settled even closer to his chest than she was before, and sighed in her sleep.

  He smiled, thinking he might actually owe something to that asshole who had tried to paw her on the dance floor of Red’s club weeks earlier. Maybe he should thank him if he ever saw him again.

  He pictured Haley as he’d seen her that first time; angry, but her eyes wild with helplessness and panic.

  Then again, maybe he’d break the bastard’s nose one more time, for good measure.

  CHAPTER 3

  Thanksgivings and Thanks for Nothings

  Haley entered the room, looking about as cheerful as a Golden Retriever with a dead duck tied around its neck.

  Tex put his paper aside. “What’s going on, Sis?”

  She flopped down on the couch; her laptop tucked under one arm and holding a family size bag of Skittles in the other. She dug around in the bag and came up with a handful of orange ones, but still didn’t answer.

  “Why the hell don’t you go to the mall and buy bags of orange ones?”

  Eventually, Haley graced him with an irritable glare. She picked up the remote and began flipping through the stations, finally landing on the Thanksgiving Day Parade.

  “You know, little sister, your boyfriend may be dealing with something that requires a higher priority than keeping a phone date with his girlfriend.”

  Haley turned to him, her eyes wide and filled with threatening tears. “No! Really? That thought never crossed my mind. Jerk.”

  “Hold on, now. I doubt there’s a hell of a lot going on where he is right now. He’s in the north Helmand Province, isn’t he? He’s probably spending most of his time on the base, being bored out of his mind.”

  “He’s in the south this deployment, and I should have heard from him by now.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and waved it at him. “He said he’d call or email or message me first thing this morning to wish me a Happy Thanksgiving.” She dropped
her phone on the couch beside her and popped a couple of candies in her mouth. “He always calls when he says he will. Wherever Ben is, he’s sure as hell not sitting around being bored.”

  Tex folded and rolled up the Beaumont Enterprise as he’d found it on the doorstep of his parents’ front porch this morning. He swatted his knee with it a couple of times and then stood suddenly. “You need a change of scenery, Haley girl. Get yourself dressed, because you and I are taking a little road trip.”

  “Where to?” She let him pull her up by the hand.

  “We’re going to Louisiana. Mom and Dad taking the trip to Colorado doesn’t mean you and I can’t have a decent Thanksgiving.”

  “We’ll be back by tonight, won’t we? I’ve got to be here to take care of my horses.”

  “Nope. Pack a bag for the night. Give ‘em a little extra hay, they’ll be fine until tomorrow evening.”

  “But I hate leaving Dakota.”

  Tex stared down at his petite sister. “For Christ sake, she’s a twelve hundred pound horse, not a child. I think she can handle one night away from you without succumbing to separation anxiety. Besides, she has three other horses out there to keep her company. She’ll be fine.” He grumbled under his breath. “God knows their stalls are all nicer than my own house.”

  “That’s only because you live like a slob. Bachelor pads are supposed to be welcoming to women, but yours is disgusting.” She shivered. “You can’t set foot in that place without having to step over take-out cartons, empty beer cans, or dirty laundry.” She tucked her laptop under her arm and scooped up her phone. “You really should hire somebody to clean once a week. I thought Marines were supposed to be neat and organized.”

  “Little sister, I had to be neat and organized for twenty years. Now I can be as sloppy as I want to be. Besides—” he slapped one of his biceps. “Once the ladies get a hold of this, they’re too mesmerized to see anything else.”

  Haley walked away from her brother, snorting with laughter. “Yeah stud, you keep tellin’ yourself that.”

  Tex watched his sister slip her boots on and head outside, thankful he’d been able to pull her out of her temporary depression. There were a few good reasons for a Marine not to contact his favorite girl on Thanksgiving Day. Worst-case-scenario would be her guy lying dead from a Taliban bullet or an IED. The possibility was plausible, though slightly less so at this point in the war. Other reasons were injuries, which were also a possibility, a lack of signal or SAT phone, or wanting to dump a girl.

  From the sickly-sweet phone conversations he had witnessed on occasion between Haley and the newly promoted Corporal Bonin, he figured that was highly unlikely. Chances are he was busy with supply runs or on patrol, and lacked the equipment to phone home. Both included an element of danger. She’d have to wait it out. In their parents’ absence, he figured the least he could do was make the waiting less painful for her.

  He pulled out his phone and found the contact he was looking for. He tapped the call button and waited through three rings before Mitch Hebert answered with a jovial “Happy Thanksgiving, shit brick!”

  “Same to you, dick wad. Are you up to a visit from your two favorite Texans? I need to get Haley’s mind off of missing her Marine for a couple of days.”

  “Absolutely! We’ve got a lot to be thankful for this year. Having you two here will only add to the celebration.”

  Tex nodded, remembering that Meagan’s little boy was still recuperating from the Halloween night accident that could very well have taken his life. “How is little man Buck, anyway?”

  “His leg and arm are still in casts, but they don’t seem to stop him.” A pause preceded his next statement. “We’re lucky he’s still with us.”

  “I know, man. And your luck is holding up. The Texans are invading Cajun Country!”

  “Mom.”

  “Hang on, Buck, I’m coming.” Meagan topped the green bean casserole with the last of the French fried onions and slipped the dish back in the oven for the last 10 minutes of baking time.

  She wiped her hands on her jeans and went into Buck’s room. He sat on his bed trying to dress himself, but without much success. She laughed at his half-dressed predicament, one leg in and one leg out of a pair of oversized sweat pants, and one arm and his head through a #8 Texans football jersey.

  Meagan finally succeeded in getting his brace through the second leg of the sweats. She sat back and groaned at his choice of shirts. “Son, you have other shirts, you know. Nearly three weeks of the same football jersey is getting old.”

  “But the Texans wewe my daddy’s favwite team, and Mitch gave it to me.” He looked at her with pleading eyes as he kicked his good leg against the side of his bed. “Please, Mom?”

  “Okay, but once this cast comes off, I don’t want to see you in jerseys for a while. And you will be dressed up in an adorable little suit for Christmas if it kills me.” She finagled until she finally got the cast through the arm of the jersey. “You want me to carry you into the living room?”

  “No, I want to go in the kitchen with you and Niki.” He got his crutch and hopped to the kitchen as if he was born using the darn thing.

  Niki passed him in the hallway and groaned. “God, I can’t wait until he gets rid of that thing. It’s like having our own little Tiny Tim running around here.”

  Meagan laughed as she placed the buttermilk pies on the snack bar next to the pumpkin pie. “I know, but it’s so much better than the alternative, right?”

  “Definitely. Hey did you remember to pick up whipped topping for the pumpkin pie?”

  “I’d forgotten, but Mitch is bringing it.”

  “Are you sure? Because, I only have pumpkin pie once a year and it’s not the same without it.”

  Meagan looked up at the sound of knocking at the front door. “There he is, go ask him yourself.”

  Niki jerked on the handle and held the door open wide as Mitch entered, carrying a large roasting pan. “Good Lord, that smells awesome.” Her gaze followed the roaster as she pushed on the door. “But where’s the whipped topping?” Something large stopped the door from closing. She turned to see Tex Broussard in the doorway, wearing a shit eating grin.

  He pushed his way inside, brandishing two cans of whipped topping and a twelve-pack of domestic beer. “Ask and ye shall receive, madam.” He bowed gallantly at the waist before holding the cans out to her.

  His younger sister, Haley, pushed her way around him. “Yeah, yeah, Mitch already bought the topping, you just carried in the cans. Hey Niki, how are you?” Haley reached out to give her a hug. “I hope y’all don’t mind that Mitch asked us to come along. Our folks went to Colorado and it sucks being alone on a holiday with only Matty for company.”

  “Hmph. I can imagine. But we don’t mind having you at all, Haley.” She purposely left Tex out of the welcome. “And I’m fine, but more importantly, how’s it going with your Marine?”

  Haley’s honey brown eyes lit up with barely concealed excitement. “Ben finally Skyped me before we left the house. He was supposed to call first thing this morning and I was so worried. God, I miss him so much. He sends me a rose every single Monday, Niki. Isn’t that the most romantic thing?”

  Tex groaned and made a show of rolling his eyes. “Jesus Christ, that’s all I hear lately. ‘Ben said this,’ and ‘Ben did that,’” He shook his head. “Give me a break, would you?”

  Haley surprised her brother with an effective punch to his gut. “Shut up, big brother. You know, it’s not a sin for a guy to be romantic. From what I hear, you could take a few lessons from Ben in the consideration department.” She winked at Niki before heading to the kitchen and leaving the two of them alone at the door.

  Niki stood with her hands fisted on her rounded hips. “Well, I sure as hell didn’t expect to see you here.”

  Tex stepped closer for a kiss. What he got was a barely-there brush on her cheek as she spun away from him. He stood to his full height, looking somewhat shocked at her rea
ction to him. “We spent two fabulous nights together, Nicole. But you look a little disappointed to see me.”

  She smiled at him, showing her dimples. “I was disappointed weeks ago, when you didn’t call after afore mentioned nights. I’ve moved on since then. Now, I’m simply shocked that you’re here.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “Thanks for carrying in the topping though. That was surprisingly … considerate … of you.”

  She made a show of checking the time as another knock sounded at the door. “Oh, hang on, that must be my dinner guest.” She swung it open, greeting the newest arrival with squeals of delight at the gorgeous basket of fall flowers in one hand and two bottles of wine in the other. “Hey, sweetie, come on in.” The tall, good-looking man leaned over and she threw her arms around his neck to kiss him soundly on the lips.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Niki. And thanks again for inviting me to this dinner.” He held out the bottles of wine. “This is for the two lovely hostesses, but the flowers are all yours. And uh, there’s a little surprise inside for you, but you’ll have to look for it.”

  “Oh, you know how much I love surprises.” She took the wine from him and placed the bottles in the fridge to chill, before placing the basket on the table. Remembering her manners, she turned back to the two men. “Oh, Bo McAllister, this is Matt. Matt, this is Bo.” She left it to them for any further introductions, but kept an eye on them as she began her search for Bo’s surprise. Each giant of a man seemed to size up his equally large competition.

  She smiled to herself, suspecting that Tex hadn’t encountered too many men who could meet him eye-to-eye, in the literal sense of the phrase. It’s time he learned he wasn’t the only bull in the pasture.

  Tex was the first to step forward and offer his hand. “Matthew Broussard, but everyone calls me Tex.”