In the Weeds

by M. L. Buchman

  He’d been overwhelmed. Afraid even. Of travel. Of his new role. Of leaving the familiar grounds of the White House.

  Had he let his fears show because she was the only person around? As close and he and Reggie were, her memories of eavesdropping on their heart-to-heart chats had been much more in guy speak.

  “Thinking of France for a couple years.” Her brother spent two years at the Sorbonne’s culinary school. But she’d overheard him checking out the idea with Colby long before he mentioned it to their parents. He’d never thought to ask if she’d miss him.

  “Leaving DC?”

  “Yeah, need to get away from your stink. Maryland ain’t half far enough.”

  Then they’d gotten really deep.

  “You cool with it?”

  Colby’s manly, worldless shrug of “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  And yet he’d spoken to her. Told her he was afraid and recognized that in himself.

  The Air Force guys teased her back about having an entire eight-hundred-foot Landing Helicopter Dock ship to wander around with her MEU. “Yeah, real luxurious, guys. Two thousand Marines crammed aboard and we aren’t even allowed on go up on deck to see the sky most days because of constant flight operations.”

  It earned her the “smallest violin in the world” pity gesture.

  She responded with an equally friendly flying middle finger and they moved on to reminiscing about other operations.

  How had she responded to Colby’s cry for help?

  She’d told him to never show it. Stuff it down deep and never let anyone know.

  And that’s just what he’d done.

  And when he’d started to say something about her, she’d told him that he was pointing at the wrong end of the plane. Real smooth.

  So, instead, he’d kissed her and called her sweetie as if either of those was okay.

  If he was smart, he’d never risk speaking to her again because who knew what new ways she’d find to slam him down. She was showing about as much emotional depth as her big brother. The New Colby had peeked out into view and her answer? She’d squashed him like a bug. He probably did the kiss and “Sweetie” thing just to chase her away. It was certainly something Old Colby would do. Or a Colby with the least sense of self-preservation.

  Except for that kiss.

  Better than she’d ever imagined possible.

  Had she ever imagined kissing him?

  Wait! She had the timeline wrong. Colby had kissed her, really kissed her. Then, when she’d slammed into him about laughing at her crazy dreams half a lifetime ago, he’d pushed her away hard: “Sweetie, I bet you can’t wait for another.”

  “Assholes!” He’d been a complete and total asshole. But then…so had she. They both were.

  The Air Force crew was looking at her strangely.

  “What?”

  She’d lost track where she was. They’d been waiting for a laugh or mock indignation or some response to something. By the look of it, it was their third or fourth attempt—then she’d called them all assholes. And not in the kindest of tones.

  How could she explain…without explaining. The smiles died and the moment withered just as she imagined Colby’s smile had when she’d slammed the door in his face.

  “We’re starting our descent,” the captain finally spoke and the rest of the crew got busy. The Air Force captain had barely tolerated her up here in the first place and joined in none of the banter. Now his message was very clear.

  She might pilot a helicopter rather than an airplane that weighed four hundred thousand pounds empty, but she could tell they weren’t actually doing anything yet—other than looking busy. She took the hint and thanked them for the view.

  “Anytime,” and they made it sound sincere. Even might have been. Except the captain, who said nothing.

  As she descended the ladder, she spotted Colby huddled up with the shooters of the Counter Assault Team. They appeared to be having a grand old time. And she’d been worried that she’d hurt him. Or not listened to him well enough or something. Nope, nothing actually upset him. Maybe the whole vulnerable thing had been the act. The kiss hadn’t been part of that. It had been part of “Sweetie, I’m sure you deserved it when I laughed in your face.” That was the real him.

  Fine, Colby Thompson. You’re on your own.

  Of course, with friends like her, maybe he didn’t need enemies.

  She descended the steep stairs quickly and circled around the far side of the parked vehicles where he wouldn’t be able to see her. When she ascended the rear ladder to the seating area, no one looked up at her except for Rex, who must have caught her scent as she went by. Colby missed the cue from his own dog.

  Ivy couldn’t stop wondering if that was a good thing or bad as she met with the HMX crews upstairs. Or after she strapped in alone in the front row of seats once the descent finally began.

  Colby stayed downstairs with the guys.

  Fine.

  9

  Everything got much more lively when they landed at Cape Canaveral. There were two runways, one in the heart of Kennedy Space Center. The other, an overlong strip built specifically for landing shuttles. Flights using the latter runway were so restricted that there was no taxiway, just the main strip—meaning traffic must not be a problem. Their C-5 Galaxy apparently rated.

  The CAT guys had warned him, so he’d been waiting close by the rear ramp when it was finally lowered. He’d been told that the unloading would be a good opportunity to get run over and it would be best to just get out of the way.

  When the back of the plane cracked open and the stern of the cargo bay began lowering, the heat and humidity had rolled over the top of the angled ramp and crashed into him like an unexpected tidal wave. It felt wrong and it smelled wrong. As if somehow the humidity made it achingly dry. And it was thick with sea salt against his tongue, like an ocean that someone had forgotten about and left cooking too long on the burner.

  Ivy grabbed his arm and dragged him down the ramp, jumping off the side just as one of the SUVs rolled backward down the slope and onto the sizzling pavement. Even with the CAT guys’ warning, he’d been stunned into place. He checked the tires of the descending vehicle, but they didn’t appear to be melting when they hit the pavement. According to his watch, six in the evening was not late enough to be visiting Florida. He could feel the heat driving through the soles of his boots.

  “This is insane.”

  “It’s a heat wave. Never gets much above this. Still, it’s cooler than Camp Lemonnier,” Ivy didn’t looked wilted at all.

  “Which is…”

  “Horn of Africa, Colby. You really should get out more. This is mild. And you get used to it.”

  “I like DC just fine.” But that wasn’t what Captain Baxter had set him up for. He’d set him up for travel, probably worldwide travel. “Next you’re going to say that I need one of those t-shirt that says ‘Whining’ with a big red circle and slash over it.”

  “Marines never whine. I don’t know what’s up with you Secret Service types.”

  Neither did he. He never complained about anything. Of course, compared to the last twelve hours, most of his life had given him very little to complain about. Even when it had, he’d always made a point of acting as the positive force in the group. Ivy apparently brought out his dark side or something.

  “You and Darth are close I guess.”

  “What was that?” She’d been watching the unloading.

  He decided to keep his thoughts about Ivy’s power and the dark side of the force to himself.

  One of the Beasts eased down the ramp, the long limo carefully tended by two loadmasters and a small phalanx of Secret Service techs. It was closely followed by two more SUVs.

  “Come on.” Ivy led him into the relatively cool shade beneath the aircraft. They walked past the eight tires of the left landing gear, each taller than he was. Much more tolerable.

  Of course she hadn’t felt like the dark side of the force. Not until a
fter he’d kissed her and the fury had lashed out of nowhere.

  “I didn’t kiss you to make you angry, Saint Ives.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.” Again, she answered the wrong part of the question.

  “Goddamn it, Ivy!” Colby grabbed her arm and dragged her to a halt beneath one of the jet’s massive engines, so monstrous that it felt like it was going to fall off the wing and crush them at the least excuse.

  Maybe he no longer cared if it did.

  “Now you’re going to make me angry.”

  Ivy just squinted at him like he was a bug.

  “Fine,” he turned to continue forward when he heard her voice softly behind him.

  “Then why did you?”

  “I…don’t know. But it wasn’t to piss you off. And it wasn’t a tease. I did it because…I wanted to.”

  “Well, don’t. It’s confusing.”

  Yeah, like that was news. He kept going, but stumbled to a halt when he and Rex reached the nose of the plane. Or rather where the nose was supposed to be.

  Instead of sticking out the front of the plane, the nose section had swung up and out on massive hinges until it was three stories above them pointing upward at the hazy blue sky. In its place, a forward ramp had been extended and the White Hawk helicopters were being rolled off out the front of the plane.

  “Go to work,” Ivy prompted him from close by his elbow.

  Of course that’s all she cared about. He didn’t look at her. If he did, it would just make the hurt worse.

  Don’t. It’s confusing.

  It wasn’t like he knew why he kissed her in the first place. She was always too smart for him, living in some stratosphere to which he didn’t belong. Too smart, too motivated, too good to do anything other than succeed.

  Rex.

  He understood Rex. Sniff, eat, nap, get treats. Dog actions broke down into such simple categories.

  “Such,” he ordered.

  And Rex sought.

  Simple. That Colby could take comfort in.

  They circled and crawled through each helo. They checked every technician working on the birds: the ones unfolding the rotors, others from the base who arrived to fuel the helos, two more techs doing systems checks. They sniffed at the flight crews as they assembled to pre-flight the helicopters in preparation for a test flight.

  Ivy moved forward to talk to the flight leader. Thankfully Rex had already checked him and they didn’t need to go near Ivy, but he could feel her attention tracking him. Like there was some sort of dog leash between them now.

  Since the moment of the kiss, he’d had an incredible awareness of her.

  On the flight, he hadn’t been watching for her, yet had somehow glanced up and recognized her boot from all others as it hit the first rung of the ladder down from the Galaxy’s flight deck. Forcing his attention back to a friendly argument with the CAT shooter’s ridiculous preference for the old Colt 1911 with .45 rounds over Glock 19 pistols with 9mm was the only thing that kept him from watching how she moved.

  He had tapped Rex’s shoulder to draw his attention to her so that Colby could track her by the motion of Rex’s head—up the rear ladder to the passenger deck without coming anywhere near him.

  Shit!

  For something to do once his inspection of the helicopters was complete, he guided Rex over to the wing shade on the far side of the C-5. The monster plane had “knelt,” squatting down on its wheels until its belly almost rubbed the tarmac to make the unloading easier. It also had the advantage of blocking his sightlines beneath the aircraft to see Ivy. He scanned the scrub grass and low brush while Rex lay down on the pavement and rolled over as if it was a comfy heating pad.

  “How do you do that with all that fur?”

  Rex sighed happily, laid his head back, and fell asleep with four paws in the air.

  The interesting parts of Cape Canaveral lay south of the airfield, warped by the heat haze. Impossibly tall gantries were scattered about like individual skyscrapers, each missing their city. In the far distance, there was a small group of truly massive buildings. Ivy could probably tell him about each and every one: purpose, history, and God alone knew what else. Only the fifty-story tower of the Vehicle Assembly Building, where the rockets were assembled for launch, stood out clearly. At less than two miles away, it alone commanded the southern vista.

  This section of the Cape was a lonely place. Due east was nothing but a line of low trees—mangrove and Brazilian pepper, one of the C-5’s loadmasters had told him—cutting off any view of the nearby ocean. To the north, only a few tall condos peeked above the trees. To the west, again nothing.

  Maybe he’d just act like those lone skyscrapers. Ivy hadn’t been in his life or much in his thoughts for several years prior to this morning. No loss. He’d just go back to ignoring her, standing alone on the baking runway beneath a strangely hazy sky—blue, but definitely not DC blue.

  Did sleeping dogs get homesick?

  “It feels desolate, doesn’t it?” Ivy spoke from close behind him.

  Between one heartbeat and the next, Rex flopped over from upside down, dead asleep to sitting up and looking for a pet from Ivy.

  She looked impossibly sad as she complied.

  Colby could ignore many things, but he couldn’t ignore that.

  She hadn’t expected this feeling.

  Shuttles had landed here. Right here!

  Cape Canaveral.

  Kennedy Space Center.

  After a lifetime of dreaming, she’d finally made it to the heart of America’s space program. And all that struck her was the vast emptiness.

  The isolated runway.

  The lone C-5 jet.

  Except for the quickly assembling HMX-1 fleet and the Motorcade, the silence was echoing. Air Force One would be arriving early tomorrow and everything would be ready. Where was the drama? The excitement?

  “Why didn’t you ever go for being an astronaut, Ivy?”

  Colby’s question surprised her. “I…” She didn’t have a good answer to that. Because almost no one ever made that grade? Well, she’d guaranteed that she wouldn’t by never trying.

  “I guess that I never really thought to try. It was all too far away, too magical.”

  “Reality looks a lot like hard work.”

  “Well, that’s a downer, Thompson.”

  “No! No!” Colby turned to face her. “I’m fine with hard work—”

  “Didn’t used to be.”

  “Maybe you could grant that I grew up somewhere along the way.”

  “Sure…sweetie!” But that was wrong. Ivy shrugged an acknowledgement that felt as if she was saying he was right. Earlier today it would have been a sarcastic Yeah, right! But it didn’t feel like that anymore. This Colby Thompson was too impressive to deny.

  “I like a challenge. Gives me purpose. You taught me that.”

  She looked at him in surprise, but he continued too quickly for her to ask what he meant. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was sorry he’d spoken that thought aloud.

  “I love working with Rex and the other dogs. Just… It seems as if there should be more, somehow. I don’t know. Just whistling in the wind here.” He turned back to face the low green wall that bordered the long runway. “There are hundreds of agents and dozens of dogs working to keep the President safe. That doesn’t count all of the other forces we recruit from police and military. I’ve caught my fair share of fence jumpers, and Rex has tagged a couple of wannabe bombers, but nothing big. Which I suppose is good, but it still feels…small.”

  “I feel like that all the time. I think that’s what makes me keep pushing.”

  “Sounds right. But it doesn’t sound like me. Maybe it’s just this place.”

  Colby knew her that well, to know what sounded like her even when she didn’t. He knew her better than anyone other than…maybe not even herself.

  The salt wind seemed to be taking the daylight with it. The sun, now a bloody orange orb, set beyo
nd the helos as the first one lifted aloft for its test flight. Soon the other two followed.

  “Shouldn’t you be there?”

  Where she should be was back in the White House Military Office, acknowledging the report that the HMX-1 team was ready. Here, she’d already seen that the operations team was fully prepared to carry out their tasks without her poking her nose in. She would complete the mission, but perhaps her idea of being in the field hadn’t been the best. All she’d managed to do was get shot down.

  “I…” the words seemed to be trapped in her chest. “I don’t know where I’m supposed to be.”

  Colby wrapped a friendly arm around her shoulder for just a moment and Rex nuzzled at her hand, both of which made her feel better for no reason she could identify.

  “We’ll figure it out, Saint Ives.”

  “Why do you always call me that? I’m not from Cornwall. And he’s the patron saint of lawyers. So that can’t be it. Tell me it isn’t the dumb nursery rhyme.”

  “As I was going to St. Ives, I met a man with seven wives. Each wife had seven sacks. Each sack had seven cats. Each cat had seven kits. Kits, cats, sacks, wives. How many were going to St. Ives?”

  “One. The narrator who meets the man, etc. who are going the other way.”

  Colby looked down at her carefully. “You’ve always gone your own way, Ivy. Full bore, crashing over anyone who tries to become an obstacle.”

  “Doesn’t sound very nice, does it?” However, it did sound more than a little true. Just like her, in fact. The little engine who could…no matter what was in her way.

  “It’s one of the things I admire most about you. You’re beautiful, funny, and you have a kiss so good that I still can’t get my head around it. But your stand-out feature is your determination. It’s as clear and direct as…as a rocket flight—always going your own way without any doubts or questions. I’m sure that it makes you an awesome Marine, but that’s why I was wondering that you never went into space.”

  “I was only ever a pilot. No advanced degrees in science or robotics.”

  “And NASA doesn’t use pilots?”

  “I was only ever a helicopter pilot. To pilot for NASA, you have to be a jet pilot first. Jets never interested me.”