Heart of a Marine (The Wounded Warrior Series Book 1)

by Patty Campbell

  “No sweat, Danaher. It’ll be a helluva lot better than an MRE.” They glimpsed Amber’s expression when she grumbled. “Sorry, nurse, I’ll get to work cleaning up my language.”

  “You better, or you’ll never ever get to eat ice cream again, Daddy. Rilly.”

  Marla chuckled and hugged Skipper against her sweat-shirted bosom. “OK then. I’ll see you Monday. I had a good time visiting with you, Amber. So did Skip.”

  “Me too, Marla. I love him.”

  “You take good care of your daddy. I’ll find my way out.”

  * * *

  So now Marla knew.

  He’d have had to reveal it at some point, so tonight was as good a time as any. She was shocked, but to give Red credit, he hadn’t detected any pity in her reaction. She’d been as bossy as ever, ready to take charge. No phony blushing when he’d dropped his pants, she’d done what needed to be done.

  Dwayne couldn’t stomach pity. He was lucky to be alive and had no regrets about his tour of duty. He’d volunteered to go and would go again if they’d have him.

  One thing he did know—an Iraqi dad loved his kids just as much as Dwayne loved Amber. Nobody deserved to live under the heel of a murdering tyrant. Some of the things he’d seen over there would always haunt him. Whatever it took, he’d defend his home, his daughter, his town against any evil bastard intent on doing harm.

  Amber sat back on her heels and screwed the top on the jar of salve. “Is that better, Daddy?”

  “I’m good as new thanks to you.” He dragged his pajama bottoms from under his pillow and pulled them on. “I’m starved. What say we see what’s left of my supper?”

  “Wait, I’ll get a Band-Aid.” Amber hopped down and held his crutches in front of him. “Sit on the side of the bed.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He pulled on a sock and waited patiently while she dabbed his cut with antibiotic ointment and stuck the bandage on his cheek.

  “Will I live?”

  “Probly.”

  “That’s a relief.” He stood and put the pads of the crutches under his arms and headed down the hall.

  Amber darted ahead of him. “I’ll get your soda. Marla put it back in ’frigerator when you left. I rilly like her. She’s not married and her boyfriend is rilly boring. She told me. Did you know she had a twin sister who doesn’t look anything like her and twin brothers who nobody can tell apart but her? Her dad is best friends with Grampa Johnny, and her mother’s name is Silvia, but they call her Silly Silvia when she isn’t listening. They make a surprise party every year for their dad’s birthday, but Marla always tells him before because she says he doesn’t like surprises. I like surprises.”

  Dwayne laughed as he followed her running dialogue to the kitchen. “I’m calling the FBI Monday morning to see if they’ll give you a job interview. You wormed more information out of Marla Danaher in one evening than I have in the last six months.”

  “She said we could be girlfriends and tell each other everything. She wondered where my mom was, and I told her you revorced her last year because she had to leave and wasn’t ever coming back and she wanted to know if you had a girlfriend and I told her no.” Amber opened the fridge and set his Dr. Pepper on the table.

  “Whoa. I changed my mind about the FBI. You must already be moonlighting as an agent for the CIA.”

  He propped one of his crutches against the counter and opened the door of the barely warm oven. Holding a dishtowel, he lifted his plate off the rack. “Mmm, mmm, mmm, just the way I like it. When it’s brown it’s cookin’ and when it’s black it’s done.”

  Amber set the salad bowl on the table and removed the plastic wrap. “Marla made me eat all my salad.”

  “How’d she manage that miraculous feat?”

  Amber wrinkled her nose. “She’s rilly bossy.”

  He laughed. Yes, Marla was “rilly bossy.” Definitely a take-charge woman. A woman he liked more every day, and who apparently had some interest in him, or why had she wormed so much information out of his daughter?

  He shook his head when he thought of the monumental paperwork battle required to finally get his divorce from Francine. She’d deserted them, and he hadn’t seen or heard a peep from her in nearly six years. He’d spent a fortune on all the legal advertising and hoops he’d had to jump through. For all he knew, she was dead by now.

  The way Francine liked to live in the fast lane, he wouldn’t be surprised. He’d been totally seduced by her wild child ways in those days. Their first explosive sexual encounter had been her idea, and he’d enjoyed every down-and-dirty minute of it. What a dumb kid he’d been back then.

  “If I eat all my salad will you let me have some ice cream, nurse? I promise to clean up my act.”

  Amber pursed her lips with skepticism. “You always promise.” She scowled across the table, arms crossed in front of her. “OK, but this is the last time. I rilly mean it, Daddy.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Dang it!” Marla was halfway home when she remembered she’d forgotten her promise to Charlene to return to their parent’s house after she met with the Wylands. She’d left her cell phone in the car while at Dwayne’s. Her mother and sister had probably left a gazillion hysterical voicemails by now. She looked at the screen and groaned.

  “What am I going to do, Skippy?” She sighed and made an abrupt U-turn in the middle of the block to retrace her route. Might as well face the music.

  Her parent’s house appeared quiet when she pulled in the driveway. Charlene’s car wasn’t there. Gritting her teeth against the expected meltdown, she picked up Skipper, went to the front door, and pushed the bell.

  Her dad opened the door. “Hi, honey. Come on in.” He stepped aside and held the door open.

  “Hi, Dadley. Is Mom here? She’s probably ready to kill me.”

  “No, and I doubt it.” He took Skipper from her and let the dog lap his face. “Why would you think that?”

  “She called me in a fury over your birthday party. I got the impression you’d soon be divorced or she’d be a widow. She said you told her you wouldn’t come to your own party if John Dempsey couldn’t bring his wife. What a mess.”

  Bradley Danaher pointed to a chair next to his recliner. “Take a load off.” He took a seat and set Skip in his lap, held up a glass of Irish whiskey and raised his eyebrows.

  “No, thanks. Where is Mom? Where’s Char? I want to get it over with.”

  “They were smiling and yapping when they went out shopping this afternoon, then they called and said they were adding dinner and a movie. Your mother seemed reconciled to my ultimatum. I think it took her all of five minutes to get over it.”

  “You gave her an ultimatum?” Dadley never gave ultimatums. “Wow! I almost got an ulcer on the way over here.” Marla stuck her legs straight out in front of her, slid down in the chair, and dropped her head back. “I’ll have a wee dram after all, Dad. Those two are making me old before my time.”

  Bradley chuckled and poured Jameson’s into a heavy crystal glass and handed it to her. “You were born grown up, my darling girl. You’re an old soul.” He tipped his glass at her. “Slainte!”

  Marla smiled at her dad and took a sip. “Good health to you too, Dadley.”

  They sat in companionable silence. Marla gazed around the room. Sil, a gifted decorator, made their home elegant and inviting. A fragrance of lemon lingered in the air, and a wave of nostalgia for her childhood engulfed Marla’s chest. What childhood? Like Dadley said, she was born grown up. She must have popped out of the womb wearing a suit, carrying a briefcase, and with a schedule for managing her parents and siblings. Somebody had to do it.

  “Dad? How long have you known John Dempsey?”

  “About forty-five years. Since we were in high school. I thought you knew that.”

  Marla nodded. “I did. I guess my question is…why were you and Johnny friends in the first place? You’re really not very much alike.”

  Bradley chuckled and set down his now-empty gla
ss. “Our differences attracted us to each other I suppose, but we started out as rivals for your mother’s affections. Both of us panted after her as only two sixteen-year-olds could.”

  Marla stared at her father. “What! You and John both wanted to date Mom?” John Dempsey chasing her mother? That was the last thing she expected to hear.

  He poured himself another tot of whiskey and held up the bottle. She shook her head, so he put the stopper back in, took a sip, and continued. “Date is the polite way to say what we wanted.”

  Heat crept from her chest, to her neck, and her scalp blazed. “I never knew that. I can’t imagine Sil going out with Uncle John.”

  “They did more than ‘go out.’” Her dad waggled his eyebrows. “They were a hot item for almost two years. You couldn’t separate them with a crowbar.” He toasted the past and took a sip of the whiskey.

  “Dad! I can’t believe this. How could you and John have remained friends?” Anger against her mother burned her stomach. The idea of Silvia choosing Johnny Dempsey over her perfect, wonderful father back then—beyond belief.

  “We remained friends because I loved both of them. It’s hard to explain.”

  She held out her empty glass. “Give me a refill and try. I feel like I entered the Twilight Zone.”

  “Here’s the thing.” Bradley sighed and poured a finger of the Irish into her glass. “I knew Johnny had a wandering eye, and I held out hope Silvia would get fed up with him and give me a second look. It’s as simple as that.”

  Marla puckered her lips and thought about that. “Are you sure you’re remembering correctly?”

  “You think I’m ready for the funny farm?” His voice was tinged with annoyance. “Of course I remember. Need I remind you that you don’t always know everything?”

  Contrition descended. “Sorry, Dad. It’s just…wow…Mom and Johnny. Who woulda thunk it? Not me. I can’t get my mind around it. Wow.” Sipping the whiskey, Marla eyed her father. His face wore a wistful smile. He looked old. When did her dad get old?

  “That’s OK. And quit looking at me like I’ve got a foot in the grave. You’re not getting any younger yourself. When are you going to start living your own life and stop thinking the rest of us can’t take care of ourselves? Get a husband, I want some grandkids.”

  Dadley had never spoken so plainly. Both her parents hinted that the time had come for her and Charlene find husbands and settle into normal lives. At twenty-seven, they still had plenty of time. She had no interest in saddling herself with a husband and kids, and Char was too busy sampling every unmarried man within the city limits and beyond.

  “I don’t want a husband and kids. I have other plans. Anyway, I want to know what happened between Silvia and John.”

  Bradley stroked Skipper’s back and wrinkled his nose at her little dog. “Peeyew, Skipper farted. What have you been feeding him?”

  “He had macaroni and cheese earlier, and quit trying to change the subject.”

  He picked up a magazine and fanned the air around Skipper. “John met Kathleen, fell flat on his ass in love, and showed Silvia the door.”

  “Kathleen? Dwayne’s mother?”

  “Mother to all three boys. Dylan, Dwayne, and Donovan.”

  “John threw Mom over?” Her father’s story stunned her. Welcome to bizarro world, Marla.

  “Yep, and I caught her. The rest is history.”

  “Well, I suppose the good news is—she got over it.”

  “She never got over it. She hated Kathleen, she hated every woman John dated after Kathleen left him, and she hates his current wife, Irene. But she never stopped loving Johnny.”

  “Dad! What are you saying?”

  “It is what it is, honey. I’ve always loved your mother and I always will. We’ve made a good life together, but today I finally laid down the law about her excluding them from our social life. John and Irene are my friends.”

  How could this be? Her mother loved John Dempsey? “But, Dad, Mom loves you, I know she does.” Her tall, blond father had always been a Nordic prince in her mind. Harry and Barry got their coloring and handsomeness from Dad. John Dempsey came up short in the looks department with his muscular bulk and black curly hair. He couldn’t compare to Bradley Danaher’s male beauty.

  “Yes, Silvia does love me. I waited for her. I never felt like I got the leftovers. We have a good life, a nice home, and four great children we’re both proud of.” He eyed her and pointed a finger in her face. “Don’t look at me like that. Since when do you believe in fairytales?”

  “I watched Barbie Cinderella tonight with Amber, Dwayne’s little girl.” She sighed. “Was I ever a little girl, Dad?”

  “Not for long, honey. You’ve been trying to manage this family since you were Amber’s age. There was nothing we could do to stop you. Still isn’t.”

  “Am I that awful?” She wondered why she had such a driving need to manage everybody’s life. They were all capable of taking care of themselves.

  “No. And quit feeling sorry for yourself. That’s not like you. We just wish you’d pay more attention to your own happiness.”

  “I…”

  “How’s things between you and Edwin?”

  Marla rolled her head against the back of the chair and sighed. “Edwin.” She sighed again. “Poor Edwin. He died a while back and hasn’t realized it yet. I don’t know why I don’t stop seeing him. He’s more boring that watching glaciers melt.”

  Bradley’s bark of laughter startled Skipper and he jumped off his lap.

  “Your baby is glaring at me. He looks insulted.” He slapped his knee. “Come on, boy. Come on.”

  Skipper sat and stared, then hopped on Marla’s lap. “What’s the matter, Skippy? Did that big bad man scare you?” She hugged and cuddled him, murmuring silly baby talk.

  “My god, daughter. Why are you wasting all that gooey affection on a mutt? You need to find yourself a man. Somebody who’d treasure the woman you are.”

  She waved a hand in dismissal. “Dad, did you know Dwayne Dempsey lost part of his left leg in Iraq?” Now why had she asked that out of the blue? She wasn’t interested in Dwayne Dempsey. No, she didn’t have a single ounce of interest in him! Not even half an ounce.

  As if he’d read her mind, Bradley asked, “Are you interested in him? Now, there’s a man’s man, if you want my opinion. He’s somebody who’d appreciate a hardheaded woman like you. Why don’t you give Edwin the heave ho? Dwayne is a much better prospect.”

  “Dad! What brought that on? I’m not the least bit interested in him in that way. I just wondered if you knew about his wound.” Dump Edwin? She wasn’t being fair to him, but she wasn’t ready to go it alone either. Edwin was safe, stable, reliable.

  “Of course I knew. John’s my best friend. I’ve known about it from the day he got notified by the Navy Department. Why? Is that a problem for you? I doubt it has any effect on him in the manhood department, if you get my meaning.”

  “Good grapes! The man works for me. What could be more inappropriate? Anyway, he’s the last man in this town I’d ever be interested in.” Liar, liar, liar.

  Skipper’s ears perked up. He jumped off Marla’s lap and ran to the entry hall barking his little head off.

  Bradley stood. “Ah, the two dragon ladies are home. I wonder how much of my money they spent this time.”

  “Skippy!” Charlene’s squeal echoed down the hall. “Marla’s here.” She struggled in with several shopping bags and dumped them on the floor.

  Silvia followed, also burdened with boxes and bags. “We hit a fabulous sale at Nordstrom. Wait till you see the cute shoes I bought.” She crossed the room and kissed Bradley on the cheek. “I see you had company while we were gone.” Hugging Marla, she said, “I’m sorry you didn’t get back earlier, sweetheart. You could have gone with us. Where were you all day?”

  “Well, I closed the sale on…”

  Silvia opened a shoe box and showed her a pair of glittery red pumps that could give Dorothy s
ome competition in Oz.

  “…the house for the Wylands. You drove all the way to Northridge?”

  Bradley rolled his eyes at the shoes. “They’re great, hon.” He looked at Marla. “Rosalie Wyland? Dwayne’s cousin from Wyoming?”

  “Am I the only person in this town who didn’t know that?”

  “Oh, Lordy lord, Marla. Will you look at this blouse? Isn’t it to die for? Mom bought it for me. It’s the perfect color for my eyes. I can’t wait to wear it.”

  Brad cocked his head. “I thought you took them to see that house because Dwayne built it. You mean you didn’t know they were related?”

  “Not until I got to their motel today. He was there. He never said anything to me.”

  “Sis, wait till you see this.” Charlene proceeded to peel off her blouse, revealing perfect rosy breasts barely covered with pale peach lace.

  “Char! You’re undressing in front of Dad!”

  “Lord, Marla. He’s our father.”

  “He’s a man.” She huffed and rolled her eyes at her twin’s cluelessness.

  Dadley squeezed his eyes shut. “I’ll close my eyes.”

  “Turn your head, darling.” Silvia put her hands on Bradley’s shoulders and turned him away.

  Marla glared at Charlene. “See? You can’t just take your clothes off whenever the urge strikes. What are you doing?”

  Instead of answering, Char slipped the blouse from the hangar and dropped it over her head. The heavy peach silk drifted down and settled on her breasts.

  Marla sucked in a breath and pressed her hand against her chest. “Char, it was made for you.”

  “Isn’t it perfect? Sil spotted it from clear across the sales floor.”

  Bradley twisted he head. “Can I look now?”

  Silvia tugged his elbow and grinned. “Isn’t she stunning, darling?”

  Clutching his heart with thespian passion, he said, “You’re the vision of a fairy princess, Charlene. I can barely breathe.” He put a finger on her shoulder. “Turn. I want the full effect.” She made a slow, complete circle. He spotted the price tag. “You paid a hundred-forty dollars for this?” His voice had risen a full octave.