Jericho (A Redemption Novel)

by Ginger Jamison

  Her upbringing had been strict, but she’d enjoyed her siblings’ company. And her mother had been sweet and gentle. Too docile to ever go against anything her father said.

  “Ma?” Abby placed her chubby hand on Georgia’s cheek and looked up at her.

  “Yes, baby?”

  Abby snuggled closer to her beneath the blanket, prompting Georgia to wrap her arms around her. It was as if she was reminding her to not think about them, to shut off her thoughts and use the precious little free time she had and go to sleep. She kissed Abby’s dark curls and pulled her closer. Within moments they were both asleep.

  * * *

  Somebody was hovering over him as he slept. Years of training told Christian to stay calm, to strike when they least expected it. His hand itched to grab the neck of whoever was above him. He moved his left arm slightly, ready to defend himself, but when he felt the stiffness, the tight numbness in his fingers, he remembered where he was. Then the rest of his senses returned to him.

  He could smell himself, a mixture of medicated salves and the musk due to not properly bathing in weeks. He could feel his hair brushing his forehead. He was so used to having it shaved that the feeling was foreign to him. He could hear his surroundings—beeping sounds from monitors in another room, the murmur of voices, the sounds of the place doing business as usual.

  He was in Jericho Medical. Still. His fourth day. He had never been laid up for so long. But then again he had never been a prisoner in his own body.

  He relaxed his hand and took his time opening his eyes. He could tell by the light on his face that it was daytime. That if he opened his eyes he wouldn’t see Georgia. The night nurse.

  After the first night he’d made a point to be as unobtrusive as possible. To get her to leave as soon as possible. To avoid her comforting touch. He was drawn to the woman and he wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t his type. She wasn’t even the prettiest nurse in the hospital, but he looked forward to seeing her walk through his door every night.

  So did the rest of the men on the floor. She wasn’t flirtatious or overly friendly. She wasn’t outwardly sexy. Most nights she wore prim cardigans over her scrubs. She never wore makeup, always had her hair ruthlessly pulled back. But maybe that was why they were all so drawn to her. The mystery. The curiosity of what it would be like to peel back all the layers of the sweet Miss Georgia and see what was on the inside.

  He finally opened his eyes, surprised to see General Daniel Lee standing above him. The general was the only stable person in his life since he had joined the marines. For some reason he took a special interest in Christian. It was he who prompted Christian to want to rise through the ranks in the corps.

  “Sir.” Christian tried to sit up, but his ribs protested and his skin screamed out for him to stop.

  “For Christ sake, Howard. At ease,” General Daniel Lee barked at him. “You’re half blown up. I think that gives you an excuse not to salute me.”

  “Yes, sir.” He collapsed back on the bed, hating that sitting up was nearly impossible for him.

  “I was wondering how long it was going to take for you to either kill me or open your eyes.”

  “Sir?”

  “I saw your hand move. You were going to grab my neck and crush my windpipe.”

  There was no use in denying it. The general knew him too well. “I would have stopped the moment I saw it was you.”

  The general raised an approving brow. “Glad to see that even though you had the shit blown out of you, your training stayed with you.”

  “You trained me. If I hadn’t attempted to kill you, I think you would be disappointed in me.”

  “I would. How are you feeling, son? You look like hell, but how do you feel?”

  “Considering most of my unit is dead...like shit, sir.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Howard. You know that. There was nothing you could have done to save them. You are not to blame yourself. That is an order.”

  He looked away from his mentor. “Yes, sir.”

  “You don’t have to call me sir anymore. Call me Dan.” He sank his big body into the chair beside Christian’s bed.

  Christian wasn’t sure he heard right. Nobody ever called the man by his first name. They hadn’t dared. With the face of a bulldog and the temperament of a pit bull, he was the only person Christian had ever truly been afraid of. “I must be dying.”

  The general took off his hat and tossed it on the table. “Yes, you are, but I figure you got another fifty years left before you drop dead. I’m retiring, Christian. I’ll be a civilian by the end of the month.”

  He sat back and let Christian process that for a minute. General Lee was retiring. It didn’t seem possible. Christian thought the man was just like him. Thought the military was his world. Thought the man would die as a marine. “Why?”

  “You almost died, son.”

  Of all of the things he could have said, that was the very last thing Christian expected. “I should have. I was their leader. I should have been the last man to come back alive.”

  The general rubbed his massive hand over his face, looking every bit of his nearly seventy-four years. “I’ve been a marine for over fifty years, enlisted right after my eighteenth birthday. I’ve seen a lot of men come and go. I’ve seen a lot of boys die. When you join, you go in knowing that you could die for your country. You know that the people you are friends with could die. You tell yourself you are going be detached, that when your friends die you’re going to chalk it up to being a part of war. But that never happens. I was in Vietnam when I saw my best friend step on a landmine and die right before my eyes. I cried like a baby. That stayed with me. Every man that I saw die stayed with me. Every mother I had to send my condolences to stays with me.”

  Christian closed his eyes, but what he really wanted to do was cover his ears. This was General Lee he was speaking to. The man was a machine. If he was affected by it, then what chance did the rest of them have? “Why are telling me this?”

  “Because when you got hurt, Christian, I—I was more...shaken than I ever expected to be.”

  Christian blinked at the man, unsure of how to respond to that.

  “You know I’ve kept special track of you since you came under my command. You’ve been a model marine. You never screwed the local girls, you never got drunk or broke curfew. You’ve done everything right.”

  “That’s not true, sir. I’ve made mistakes.” He made one big one that he wasn’t sure that even God could forgive him for.

  “Not yet, son. But if you go back you will.”

  “You think they’ll clear me to go back to active duty?”

  “Don’t know. But the fact that you want to after this worries me. You lost nearly your entire unit. You think going back is going to make you forget that?”

  Nothing could make him forget that, but being a marine was all he’d ever known. If he didn’t have that then he had nothing.

  “I’m married,” General Lee told him. “To one of those peace-loving hippie girls. Alma’s her name. We met when she was protesting in D.C. She threw a can at my head, and when I turned around to let her have it I saw this beautiful, lanky redhead. It took six whole days to convince her to marry me.” He smiled softly. It was the first time Christian had ever seen him do so. “And if we don’t talk about politics we get along great. We have two daughters. I’ve spent most of their lives away. I’ve missed things. Big things, like first steps and proms. You don’t have to miss those things.”

  “But I don’t have a family.”

  “You can get one. Military life is hard on a family. I know about your background. You don’t need the marines to support a family. You can do it the traditional way.”

  “The nurses can’t even stand to look at me. What makes you think finding somebody to marry me is going to be easy?”<
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  “You were a big ugly son of a bitch before and you’re a big ugly son of a bitch now. You’ll be fine.”

  He wasn’t so sure about that. He never thought about having a family. It wasn’t something that appealed to him. His parents were gone. The guys who he thought had his back turned out to be a bunch of drunken brutes. It was just better if he relied on himself. If the marines cleared him to go back, he would. There was no other option.

  “Is that why you came here? To give me some advice?”

  The general shook his head. “I know I’m not your father but I...I... It’s...” He shook his head, flustered, and Christian watched in amazement as the man who always seemed so sure of himself seemed lost. “I don’t want you to be one of those boys that doesn’t come back. I don’t want to attend your funeral.” He got up and paced away from him. “I don’t want you to go back. I like you, damn it. You satisfied?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I sound like a fucking pansy. I can’t believe I’m actually saying this to you.”

  “You’ve grown sentimental in your old age, Dan. Now why don’t you come over here, tuck me in and give me a kiss good-night,” Christian joked, but General Lee’s words hit him in the chest in a funny sort of way and he wasn’t sure how to handle them.

  CHAPTER 4

  “You look like you’re going to collapse.”

  Georgia stopped in her tracks besides Lieutenant Howard’s bed and blinked at him, trying to figure out if she had heard him correctly. He was staring at her. His eyes swept across her face, seemingly taking in all her features.

  The urge to turn her face away was overwhelming, but she kept her eyes locked with his because for the first time since he had been there, he had spoken to her first.

  The man had barely said two words to her, though he was never rude. She could tell he had been raised right, or the military had beaten manners into him. He must have been the strong, silent type. She wasn’t used to men like him. Her father always had endless words to say. Advice to give. Sermons to speak even at the dinner table. But Christian never spoke a word to her that wasn’t necessary. She wondered what he was saving them up for.

  She should be relieved that he didn’t want to talk. Five nights she had treated him, and her reaction to him was the same every time she walked into his room. Fear mixed with excitement. The kind of feeling you get the night before school starts. There were other feelings, too, but she couldn’t label them. She wouldn’t let herself. But whatever this odd thing she felt for him was, she didn’t want it to get any stronger. It was best that she kept her distance.

  “I look like I’m going to collapse?” she said when she finally found her words. “Is that code for I look horrible, soldier? My, my—I can’t imagine why you’re single. With sweet talk like that you’re sure to charm the pants off any girl in the county.”

  One corner of his mouth twitched, and if she didn’t know any better she would have thought he almost smiled. And that made Georgia wonder what his lips would look like curled into a full smile.

  All the other patients smiled at her. They teased her. They did what they could to get her to stay longer. And she knew it wasn’t because of her, but to ease some of the loneliness and boredom of being stuck in the hospital for months.

  Christian wasn’t like that. It was almost as if he’d rather be alone. But nobody really wanted to be alone. It might be his higher rank, she thought, searching for a reason. Maybe his elevated position made it hard for him to interact with others. Or maybe he just didn’t like her.

  Or maybe you’re just an overthinking idiot. Quit being so sensitive. He’s probably just tired.

  She had taken to checking on him last, making sure that every other patient was settled, even seeing some of them twice before she walked into his room. She wasn’t avoiding him on purpose, she told herself. She wasn’t putting off that little rush of feelings when she saw him. No, it was just that he was the most injured man on the floor. At the beginning stages of healing. His care would take more time than the other patients. And that meant she didn’t get to his room until well past midnight.

  He was always awake when she got there. In the back of her mind she always hoped he’d be asleep. It made her wonder if he was a night owl.

  She wanted to ask the day-shift nurses about him. She wanted to know if he was different with them. If any of the other men visited him. If he seemed any happier than he did at night. If he had any family. Where he came from. Where he was going to. But she didn’t ask. She didn’t want anybody to know that she thought about this soldier more than she should.

  “Your accent... Where are you from?” He turned the full power of his intense eyes on her, his gaze stopping on her mouth.

  “Oakdale, South Carolina,” she said, trying to keep the breathlessness out of her voice. “And don’t try to change the subject, mister. You just called me ugly.”

  He stiffened. “I didn’t, ma’am. You’re not... I meant...” He shook his head. “You look extremely tired. I didn’t mean any offense. I apologize.”

  She had flustered him, and it made her feel a little guilty. No wonder he didn’t like her. “I was teasing,” she said, giving him a little smile. “I guess I never learned my lesson as a kid. I used to send my father into fits because I never knew when to keep my mouth closed. You know I once told a deacon at my church that if he donated half the money he spent on belt buckles to the needy there would be no homelessness in the South. You can’t imagine the kind of trouble that got me into.”

  Why couldn’t she just shut up? She should do her job and get out of there like every other night. He made her nervous, but part of her wanted to get a little bit more out of him. Maybe if her curiosity was satisfied, she wouldn’t spend so much time wondering about him.

  “How are you feeling tonight?” She did her routine check of all his vitals. “How’s your pain on a scale from one to ten?”

  “About a four.”

  “Hmm. A four tonight? That means it must be a nine. The bigger you marines are the more macho you get.” She handed him the medication he always refused. “Take these. And don’t tell me no.”

  For once he reached out and took them from her. She couldn’t help but notice how his face tightened as he moved his body. But he never complained. She didn’t know if she admired him for it or thought he was plain stupid.

  “If you’re in pain, Christian, you need to call me. You don’t have to suffer needlessly.”

  “Maybe I do,” he said after he swallowed the pills. “What’s that saying? Pain is just weakness leaving the body.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Are you telling me that reason you are willing to suffer is because pain makes you stronger?”

  His eyes shuttered but he nodded. “I’m in this pain because I was defending my country. There’s no better reason than that.”

  “Well, you defended it and you survived,” she snapped. “I still don’t see the reason you have to suffer when I can help.”

  “Pain makes you grateful for all the times you didn’t feel any. It makes you stronger.”

  She shook her head, his words striking a chord in her. “This must be one mighty grateful, mighty strong ward, then. Because there’s about twenty boys on this floor who are suffering. They should be down on their knees thanking the good Lord because they are blind now, or legless or paralyzed. They are supposed to be grateful for those long nineteen years of good health? That they at least escaped childhood with their bodies intact? Damn it, Christian, their lives are drastically changed all because they went off to fight some war they don’t even know why they are fighting. And you are telling me that they have something to be grateful for?”

  “It’s their job. It’s my job. It’s my life.”

  “Well, your life is stupid! Everybody is not like you. They are not as cold or as tough. Some of them can’t handle the pain.
Do you know how many servicemen turn to drugs after they leave here? Or alcohol? There’s a suicide hotline for them that gets over three hundred calls a day. You can’t tell me that pain is good. That this war is good. I won’t believe it. I haven’t seen one benefit from it yet.”

  She stared at his expressionless face for a long time, her chest heaving. It dawned on her how stupidly she’d just behaved. Of course he would defend it. His life’s work. That was what soldiers did.

  She turned away from him, covering her burning face with her hands. “You have to forgive me. My mouth always gets me in trouble. No wonder why my father kept telling me I should be seen and not heard. I never know my place.”

  He reached out and grabbed her arm. She shut her eyes for a moment, noting how cold his hand was. That this was another thing he suffered silently.

  “Look at me,” he barked at her. She turned slowly, seeing that he was sitting all the way up. His face was tightly drawn with pain; his brow glistened with sweat.

  “Lie down,” she cried. One more thing to be added to her guilty conscience. She was supposed to soothe him, not cause him more pain. She was ashamed of herself. “Please, Christian.”

  “Shut up! Your place with me—” he bored his eyes into hers “—is to say whatever you think. Don’t you ever apologize to me for telling me what is on your mind. Do you understand?”

  The burned side of his face twisted horribly, making him look like a beast. She should be scared. He had her arm clamped tightly in his hand, the pressure uncomfortable. She hated being trapped. She hated feeling as if she couldn’t get out, but for some reason she didn’t feel that way with him.

  “Answer me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. Yes! Please lie down. You’re hurting yourself.”

  He looked at her for a long moment, his face still twisted in agony, his green eyes glowing with anger.

  “I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what made her do it, but she stepped closer and smoothed a kiss across his forehead. She kept her lips there. “Please,” she chanted into his skin. “Please lie down. Please. Please. Please.”