Bond of Love (Letters From Home Series Book 3)

by Maryann Jordan

  Bond of Love

  Letters From Home Series

  By

  Maryann Jordan

  Bond of Love (Letters From Home Series)

  Copyright © 2017 Maryann Jordan

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, then you are reading an illegal pirated copy. If you would be concerned about working for no pay, then please respect the author’s work! Make sure that you are only reading a copy that has been officially released by the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by: Sommer Stein

  Editor: Shannon Brandee Eversoll

  ISBN: 978-0-9984832-2-1

  Dedication

  As a high school counselor, I worked with many students who joined the military after high school. A few of them I stayed close to and watched as they matured during their enlistment. I know letters from home meant so much to them and they were the idea behind these stories. For those, and all who have served, I dedicate this story to them.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Author Notes

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Other books by Maryann Jordan

  More About Maryann Jordan

  Author Notes

  When writing military romance, I desire to portray accurately the soldiers’ jobs, duties, and situations, but know that in some areas I will fall short simply because I have never walked in their boots. I hope my readers will focus on the love story, while appreciating the service from our men and women in the military.

  Chapter 1

  (March – Ben)

  I opened the door to the supply closet and there he was, humping the new nurse from behind…honest to God, I’m not making this shit up! They looked over at me and stopped what they were doing (I swear the look they gave me was as though they hoped I had no clue what was going on, but I assure you, I knew what they were doing!!!) and all I did was grab what I needed and then say, “Sorry, please continue” as I walked out and shut the door behind me! I swear, it’s like working in a fucking zoo…literally!!!

  James had to stop reading, the men around him were laughing so hard. He looked over at his squad, some hanging down from their bunks with their eyes on him, and said, “Honest to God, she’s told me this stuff goes on all the time.”

  Between chuckles, I asked, “Hell, does anyone get taken care of at the hospital or is the staff just screwing each other?”

  “Hey, I don’t know about anyone else,” James protested, “but my sister’s a good nurse…and I know she doesn’t screw around in supply closets!”

  I threw my hands up in defense. “I didn’t mean Alicia! But her letters are fuckin’ hilarious!”

  Another squad member ducked in through the door letting in a gust of cold, Afghanistan wind and hurried into the small room, amidst cursing the freezing blast. “What’d I miss? One of Alicia’s letters?” Looking around, Roger saw the others still sniggering and pouted, “Oh, damn. You started without me.”

  Our tent was heated, for which I was grateful, but we still huddled in our coats as we lounged on the bunk beds. Our twelve-member squad shared the tent, three bunk beds on either side of a center aisle. We’d slept on cots in the field but, here on base, our bunks held real mattresses, considered a step-up in accommodations. We each had a footlocker as well as a tall locker next to our bunks to keep our personal items. The floors were wooden, scuffed, and worn planks but much better than the dirt.

  I grinned at the men around me, their smiles easier now that they were back at the base rather than the middle of the god-forsaken, mountainous region of Afghanistan. I waved Roger on in, saying, “You can catch up, man. All you missed was the sex in the supply closet.”

  “Fuck!” Roger cursed, throwing himself down in a chair. “I missed the best part!”

  The others laughed again, as James smoothed out the pieces of paper and continued to read.

  Dr. Simmons, the surgeon whose head is so big I can’t figure out how his scrawny neck holds it up, has asked me out again. I’ve turned him down at least four times and he just doesn’t get it. I think when I say, “No, I am not interested” he hears, “I’d love to at another time!” What is it with guys that don’t listen? (Okay, not you brother dear – you’ve always listened!)

  I did actually go on a date with a man I met in the coffee shop. He was cute, struck up a conversation and is a pharmaceutical rep visiting at the hospital. So we go to dinner (yes, I met him at the restaurant and did not give him my address) and during the dinner his phone rings. He takes the call, while I’m sitting there, and has a conversation with his WIFE!!!

  Sooooo, I walked out, leaving him sitting all alone. Anyway, I’ve decided that I will not waste my time on men who will never be Mr. Right. My long shifts in the ER leave me too tired to date now anyway!

  You are always telling me how great your squad members are…why aren’t they single and knocking down my door?? Just kidding!

  I know you can’t tell me much about what you’re doing or where you are, but know I miss you terribly! Take care!

  Love, your sis!

  Alicia

  I shook my head and said, “Man, those guys your sister goes out with are fuckin’ idiots! I can’t imagine what’s going through their minds.” I’d seen pictures of his sister and knew she was a looker.

  “I know. Jesus, she’s smart, has a good job, and is gorgeous,” James replied. He rubbed his hand over his military-short dark hair.

  “Which one of you is older?” Roger asked.

  “You didn’t know?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder. “Alicia is his twin.”

  “Twin? Do you guys look alike?”

  James and I laughed as he replied, “No, dumb-ass. Only identical twins look alike. You can’t have a guy and a girl be identical twins.”

  Roger blushed, but his scrunched face appeared confused as though he had never thought of that explanation before.

  I turned back to James and added, “But I have to admit, you two do look a lot alike…except she’s a helluva lot prettier!”

  Grinning, James leaned back, stretching his arms over his head and said, “Never had any women complaining about my looks so far!”

  Shaking my head, I chuckled as I lay back down on my cot, my mind soon turning over to the duties of tomorrow.

  “I’m done with mine. You need help?” I asked James as I walked over to the wrecked Humvee he was busy taking apart. Pieces of metal were piled up all around him on the ground, along with engine parts.

  James nodded as he cursed. “The wind keeps the fuckin’ Moon Dust swirled up so I can hardly see what I’m doing.”

  One of the difficulties we dealt with was the layer of dust on the ground that was quickly swirled up when the wind blew—and the wind always blew. It not only made daily life unpleasant but for thos
e of us who worked in areas that needed to stay clean, it presented an ongoing problem.

  Nodding my acknowledgment, I joined in to help him, as did a few other mechanics, and together we made quick work of dismantling the unusable vehicle. “I heard this one came in today and figured you’d have to take it apart,” I commented to James.

  “We’ve got wrecker duty this weekend, but maybe it’ll be a quiet one,” James said, as he salvaged a door.

  This Humvee had hit an IED and part of our job as combat mechanics was to go out into the field when a vehicle was destroyed and recover it. Nothing was to be left for the Afghans or Taliban to reclaim and possibly use.

  Tossing pieces of metal from the roof to the ground, I jumped down and began stacking what I could. Another mechanic checked the tires, salvaging two of them and moving them to the side. By the end of our shift, most of the Humvee was dismantled and the parts were taken to where they would be used to rebuild damaged vehicles that could get back on the road.

  After our shift, I hit the showers, washing off the sweat, dirt, and grime that came from working outside and on vehicles. I’d loved working on cars for as long as I could remember and being a combat mechanic had been the perfect job for me, but dismantling wasn’t as satisfying as repairing. Stepping out of the shower, toweling off, I dressed in a clean Army Combat Uniform in the locker room with the others from our squad on the same shift. The Afghan nationals that worked in the laundry always did a good job on our ACUs and it felt good to put on clean clothes.

  “God, I’m hungry,” I said as we walked outside, heading to the Dining Facility. “Wonder what culinary delights the DFAC has for us tonight?”

  “I’d eat anything,” Roger replied, “but I sure hope they’ve got some good desserts left.”

  “I’ll catch up to you guys. If they’re running out of cake, save me some,” James called out, turning toward another tent on the right of the main lane.

  “You gonna hit the mail tent before eating?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” James nodded. “You coming?”

  “Hell, you know no one ever writes to me! That’s why I live vicariously through you!” With a wave, I headed into the large DFAC tent, the tantalizing smells drawing my interest.

  A few weeks later, I lay back on my bunk, too tired to even read a book. After work, the squad had joined a pick-up basketball game, during which I realized my body wasn’t as young as it used to be. A lot of the younger recruits were only eighteen or nineteen years old since many soldiers only stayed for one tour. There were less of us who were pushing ten years in and that was more noticeable when going head to head in a ruthless basketball game. Hearing a noise at the front of the tent, I glanced over.

  James walked in, a smile on his face as he carried a box in his hands. “Look what I’ve got!”

  Recognizing a care package from Alicia, I found the energy to sit up knowing something good would be inside. I hoped it would be some of her tasty cookies, but knew first he’d read her letter. And that was okay…her letters always put us in a good mood.

  Hey James,

  I’ve got some family gossip this time! You know how we always thought Aunt Cora was so high and mighty all the time, and you used to say that she probably had some kind of secret life ’cause no one could be so sanctimonious? Well, guess who’s been having an affair for the past year? Yep, she’s been banging her neighbor! And the story gets weirder…Uncle Charles found out about it and he and the neighbor’s wife started an affair also! They began just out of spite with their spouses’ affair, but then they fell in love. So Uncle Charles and Aunt Cora are getting a divorce. He’s moved in with his neighbor and they are planning on getting married. But, the real crazy part is that Cora and her lover, split up! How funny is that??

  Work has been the same. I like the ER, but sometimes I wonder how long I can keep this up – the pace is insane. It was easier when I was first out of nursing school, but I’m starting to feel the fatigue from these hours. I know when you were home last, we talked about the different places I could work, but I just can’t figure out what I want. I wish you were here – it’s always so much easier when we can talk things through. I won’t make any changes now, but when you come home next, we’ll talk more about my choices.

  I have no fun sex-in-the-closet stories in this letter…everyone must either be tired or hiding!

  My car’s been making the strangest noises lately, but seems to be running okay. I know, I know – I should take it in. There’s just no time! Now, if you were here…(hint!) I got so used to you always keeping an eye on it for me.

  Please take care and come home soon! Mom and dad will send another care package next week! These cookies are from me!

  Love you,

  Alicia

  I looked over at James as he finished reading her letter out loud, recognizing the wistful expression that he always got when Alicia wrote to him. I figured as twins, they must share an unusual bond. Hell, with my fucked up background, I had no idea what a familial bond was like, but I could appreciate it in my friend…and be envious.

  Sitting up on my bed, I peeked into the box on the floor between us. “Cookies! Hell, yeah!” Reaching inside, I grabbed one of the plastic baggies packed carefully and tore one open. “Nothing quite like Alicia’s chocolate chip cookies,” I groaned, my mouth full of chocolatey goodness.

  “Leave me some,” James protested, grabbing another baggie. Popping one into his mouth, he smiled as he chewed. “God, I love my sister! This is just what I needed.”

  “You’re lucky, man.”

  “I know,” he agreed. “It’s always been like this. Like we knew each other’s thoughts before we spoke them.” He shrugged, adding, “We just always got each other, you know? That brother-sister bond thing that most siblings have, we got in spades.”

  Never having had siblings, I wondered what that must be like. At least I get to enjoy the benefits, I thought as I chewed another cookie.

  There was only one more bag left and James shared it with the other members of our squad that were not on shift that night. As Roger walked in, he said, “I just heard the wrecker’s going out tomorrow. One of the big M35 cargo trucks hit an IED and blew the side off.”

  We all froze as we stared at Roger. Our first thought was if any soldiers had been injured. Roger’s typically joking smile was absent.

  “Fuck,” James and I said in unison, as I knew we would be the ones to go out for the reclaiming duty tomorrow.

  The taste of Alicia’s cookie was no longer as sweet in my mouth, thinking about the upcoming job, and the constant threat that we would be driving over the same war-torn terrain.

  Chapter 2

  (April – Alicia)

  My feet were dragging as I walked out to the hospital’s employee parking lot. A twelve-hour shift as an ER nurse had drained me of all my energy. It was moments like this I wished I lived closer to the hospital, but thirty minutes later when I turned onto my neighborhood street, I smiled. It had been a risk, moving from my close-to-the-hospital apartment I shared with two other nurses to buying a small, starter home in an older neighborhood. Turning off the engine, I watched as the setting sun illuminated the front of my house and I knew the risk had paid off…in spades.

  Walking to my front door, I reached into my mailbox and pulled out a handful of envelopes. I loved how this neighborhood had the mailboxes attached to the house so that I could grab my mail easily and not have to run to the street. Funny, how the little things in life make me happy!

  Quickly shuffling through the mail as I entered the house, I found the one that always brought a smile to my lips. A letter from James. Twins and friends since birth, mom always said.

  Tiger, my large striped cat, immediately circled my legs to be fed. Knowing she wouldn’t leave me alone until I acknowledged—and took care of—her stomach, I hustled into the kitchen. Pouring some food into her dish, I grinned as she began to crunch her dinner.

  Kicking off my colorful, Dansko profe
ssional clogs, I wiggled my toes in the thick rug and plopped down on the sofa. Ripping open the envelope, I leaned back as Tiger jumped into my lap. With one hand petting her soft fur, the other held the pieces of paper, filled with lines of James’ crooked handwriting.

  Hey Alicia,

  I keep promising myself I will stop writing these ridiculous snail mail letters and just type an email…but then you would moan and groan like you always do, telling me that letter writing is a dying art. Okay – fine, but don’t complain if you can’t read my handwriting!

  Things are the same here. There is always a shit-ton of vehicles to maintain and repair. A few weeks ago, I was in the field with Ben and there was a huge truck that had hit an explosion and was on its side. We had to take the wrecker out to get it righted and then haul it back to base. I wasn’t sure if it could be rebuilt, but yours truly can work magic! We just got that monster truck back into business!

  Speaking of Ben, I swear, he’s so much better than any of those jerks you’ve been dating. I wish you could meet him sometime. When we get back home, I’ll introduce you to him. In the meantime, watch out for that prick of a doctor – if he tries anything, knee him in the nuts. That’s something all men will understand as a “no”!

  Okay, this is short, but I swear my hand is already cramping. Next time, sis, you get an email! The guys all say thanks for the care package. Your cookies are the best and that opinion is shared by all the men in my squad. Tell mom and dad hi for me.

  Love from your older brother (okay, by only 1 minute, but I figure it counts!),

  James

  Grinning, I slid further down on the sofa with my head leaned back and propped my socked feet up on the coffee table, letting Tiger massage my tummy with her paws. My gaze drifted to the mantle over the fireplace that I had never used, admittedly too afraid of any creatures that may have taken up residence there. The polished, dark walnut mantle held my treasures…family pictures depicting me and James from infancy to the last time he was home on leave, almost a year ago. Sighing, I quickly calculated how much more time until I could see him again. Nine months. We got this, bro!