Paradox Valley

by Gerri Hill

  “You want another splash?” Jean asked.

  Dana looked at her glass, surprised that it was empty. She didn’t remember drinking it all. She nodded. “Just a little.”

  “It takes the edge off, doesn’t it?”

  Dana smiled at her. “I’m not sure even drinking the whole bottle would take the edge off. I don’t think I’ve ever been more frightened in my life, Miss Jean.”

  Corey turned from the window. “This one made eight. There should only be two still out there,” she said. “Of the ten soldiers, anyway. If it was a twelve-man squad, then four more.”

  “And Carl Milstead,” Jean added. “And maybe more by now.”

  “Keep our weapons with us at all times,” Corey said. “We’ll be okay.”

  Dana glanced down at the gun in her lap. She didn’t have to look to know that Jean had her shotgun resting across her thighs. And Corey’s gun was in the holster at her hip. Even Butch’s rifle was beside the sofa next to him.

  “And we have Lucky to warn us,” Corey added. “I don’t know what we’d have done without him.”

  Dana nodded, remembering the scene in the barn. She’d gotten there just in time to see the man send Lucky sprawling. Then he seemed to fly across the ground. He was on Butch so quickly, Dana had hardly noticed the blur of his actions. Then Corey had lunged at him, and as they tumbled to the ground, Dana knew she had to do something. The man would have been able to kill both Corey and Butch in a matter of seconds. She fired without thinking, praying she didn’t hit Corey in the process. She’d learned to shoot at an early age, but it was never something she enjoyed, and as she got older, guns frightened her more than anything.

  She glanced again at the gun in her lap, a Beretta 9mm. Corey had given her a quick lesson that one morning when they’d been camping along the creek, telling her it would be easier for her than the Glock. She hadn’t told Corey that her father owned a Glock or that it was the first handgun she’d ever fired…at the tender age of ten. She’d simply taken the Beretta from Corey, thinking she would have no use for it anyway. She had no intention of firing a weapon. Of course, that had all changed in a matter of seconds.

  Corey was again staring out the window, and Dana followed her gaze, seeing the last light fade from the sky, replaced by darkness that seemed to be swallowing them up much too rapidly. Even though the generator’s rumble had faded to the background, she was glad for the noise. Without it, it would be deathly quiet in the house.

  When Corey turned, Dana met her eyes. Corey gave her a gentle smile.

  “If you want to try to get some sleep, now’s your chance,” Corey said.

  Dana shook her head. “I don’t want to be back there alone. Besides, I’m too scared to sleep.”

  “That old bed back there is just a double,” Jean said. “It wouldn’t take much for you to drag the mattress out to the living room. Someone needs to keep an eye on Butch during the night anyway.”

  “You wouldn’t mind if we did that?” Dana asked.

  “Maybe we’ll take turns using it,” Jean said. “I’m not looking to go back to my room alone either.”

  Dana looked at Corey for confirmation and she nodded. “Keep Lucky with you,” Corey instructed to Jean when the dog started following them. Jean called him back and he obediently went to her.

  “I think Lucky’s become attached to you,” Dana said.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Corey said. She stopped beside Butch and touched his face, then felt his neck. She nodded. “Pulse is strong, steady.”

  “What if he can’t ride? Then what do we do?”

  “We’ll worry about that in the morning,” Corey said. “Come on.”

  Dana was thankful they’d lowered all the blinds. She didn’t want to see outside. Not that they could see anything. It was too dark. Not unless someone was right at the window, pressing his face against the glass. She turned away from the window quickly.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Dana shook her head. “I was…I was imagining someone outside the window, looking in at us.”

  Corey walked over to her and touched her face, caressing it lightly before letting her hand drop away. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

  Dana felt herself shaking. “They’re so…so fast,” she said. “Like when they were running after us. We were on horses, yet it was like they were flying. And the one in the barn…he was on Butch so fast, I didn’t have time to even blink.”

  Corey put her arms around her and pulled her close, and Dana sank against her. She was trembling now, almost uncontrollably, and Corey rubbed her back, soothing her.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered.

  “Is it? We might make it out, but what about my parents? Butch’s parents?”

  “Dana…we’ve got to get help first,” Corey said. “I know you’re worried about them. And you should be. They won’t be prepared like we are. They won’t know what’s going on. Someone they know could come to them and…and…”

  “You’re not helping,” Dana mumbled against her chest.

  “I’m trying to be honest with you, that’s all.”

  Dana pulled away from her slightly, not enough to separate completely, though. “You’ve been so strong through all of this,” she said. “We’ve seen so much…so much shit these last few days, this last week, however long it’s been. Yet you’re still in control. It’s like nothing bothers you.”

  Corey met her eyes and Dana noticed the sadness there. “It’s because I’ve seen a lot of shit over the years.” Then her eyes crinkled up in a forced smile. “It’ll take more than this to freak me out.” Her smile faded quickly, though. “That’s not to say that I’m not scared. Because I am.”

  Dana held her gaze. “I think that’s what makes you so unique. You’re strong. You’ve been a rock for all of us. But you don’t pretend that you’re not as scared as the rest of us.”

  She reached out and ran her fingers across Corey’s cheek, surprised by the softness of her skin. Her hand seemed to move of its own volition and she didn’t stop it as it wound around Corey’s neck. Her gaze dropped to Corey’s mouth, then found her eyes again. She was aware of her heart beating just a little faster than it should, aware of the anticipation she felt as their eyes held. But her eyes slipped closed as Corey leaned forward, brushing her lips with her own, lingering long enough for Dana to want more.

  “Now’s probably not a good time to start this,” Corey murmured as she pulled away. “Even though I’d really, really like to.”

  “I’m afraid if we wait we won’t get another chance,” Dana said as she moved closer again. “Just for a few moments, let’s pretend that everything is normal.”

  Her plea was apparently enough to convince Corey as arms wrapped around her again. Dana moaned at the contact, her body pressed tightly against Corey’s. When soft lips found hers once more, she deepened the kiss, relishing the intimate contact, savoring the few seconds they allowed for themselves. She felt the change in Corey, and she opened to her, her tongue touching Corey’s in a dance as old as time. At that moment, she knew without a doubt that Corey was the one who’d been haunting her dreams all these years. She felt it in her heart, in her soul. She clutched Corey even harder, trying to get as close as possible to her.

  Inevitably, their kiss came to an end, but Corey didn’t untangle from her. They stood there for countless seconds, just holding each other as their breathing returned to normal. When Dana felt in control again, she moved away from Corey enough to look at her, to look into her eyes. Did Corey recognize the connecting of their souls like she just had?

  Corey seemed to read her mind and she nodded. “I haven’t had a lover in more years than I can count,” she said quietly. “I never really missed it. You…you make me want to have that in my life again. I hope we get a chance.”

  “I hope we do too.” Dana finally separated fully from her, knowing this wasn’t the place or time for all this. The situation didn’t allow them that.
Not yet.

  “Your…your life’s been the military? That’s all?”

  Corey nodded again. “It was one or the other,” she said. “I didn’t feel like I could be my best at either one if I couldn’t devote one hundred percent of myself.”

  Dana stared at her, noting the sadness in her eyes again. “Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you can have both.”

  Corey’s gaze dropped slowly to her lips, then back up. “I hope so. I truly hope so.” She glanced over at the bed. “We should get this moved. Jean’s probably worried about us.”

  Dana reached for her side of the mattress, noting that she wasn’t trembling from fright any longer. No, she was trembling from desire now. Damn the circumstances, she thought. For years and years, this woman had been haunting her dreams. Her nameless, faceless Dream Girl…always just out of reach. She looked over at Corey, who had folded up the end of the bedspread and tossed it on top. This woman, real flesh and blood, was also out of reach…for now. But at least her Dream Girl was no longer faceless. Corey’s strong face, her gentle dark eyes were now etched in her mind forever.

  * * *

  Jean was getting anxious when the girls didn’t return, and she made her way into the hallway, catching bits and pieces of their conversation. She stared in shock as they embraced, her eyes wide as they kissed. She turned around quickly and went back into the living room, finding Lucky squatting on his haunches beside Butch.

  “Oh, my goodness,” she murmured.

  Never in all her seventy-five years had she seen two women kiss. Not even on TV, though she’d heard about it on the news and such. They could even get married now, she knew that much. It wasn’t right. She and Hal had thought it was a crazy concept. How could two women or two men have the same loving relationship as she and Hal? It wasn’t possible. But the captain? And Dana?

  “Oh, my goodness,” she said again.

  She went back into the kitchen and stared at the glass she hadn’t finished, the whiskey still there. She picked it up quickly and drank it all in one swallow, then coughed as it burned her throat.

  “Are you okay?” Dana asked, patting her back gently. “Go down wrong?”

  Jean turned to her, afraid to meet her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said.

  “Let me get you some water.”

  Jean watched as Dana filled a glass and handed it to her.

  “I’m not used to that, I guess,” Jean said.

  “I know. Me either. Anytime I have any kind of a drink, I always mix it with something. Coke or juice or something,” Dana said. Then she tilted her head, staring at her. “What’s wrong, Miss Jean?”

  Jean hesitated for only a moment. “I…I saw you.”

  Dana frowned. “You saw what?”

  “You and the captain.” She was surprised by the blush on Dana’s face.

  “I see. You saw us…kiss?”

  Jean nodded. “Are you…I mean, you and the captain, are you—”

  “Are we gay?” Dana nodded. “Yes.” She smiled and held her hands up. “But don’t worry, Miss Jean. Now’s not exactly the right time for…for romance.” Then Dana’s smile disappeared, and her expression turned thoughtful and a bit wistful as she stared past her. “Perhaps if we make it out of here in one piece, maybe then,” she said. Dana looked back at her. “We have this…this connection between us—me and Corey.”

  Jean didn’t know what to say and Dana laughed quietly.

  “You don’t understand, do you?”

  “No.”

  Dana shrugged her shoulders. “No, I guess you don’t. It doesn’t matter anyway, Miss Jean. The circumstances are what they are. We’re just trying to get out of here alive. Right now, that’s all that matters.”

  They both turned when the captain came into the kitchen. She looked between them, her gaze landing on Dana’s with a question in her eyes. Dana smiled at her and the captain then looked at Jean.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yes,” Dana said quickly. “Just chatting. Got the bed set up?”

  “Yeah, it’s ready. You feel like a nap?”

  Dana shook her head. “Not quite yet. But I suppose I could go sit with Butch.”

  As soon as Dana left, the captain winked at her. “She’ll be asleep before too long.”

  Jean went to the stove. “Should I put some coffee on? Gonna be a long night, I suppose.”

  “That’d be nice, Miss Jean, thank you.”

  Jean scooped coffee grounds into the top, then secured the lid before turning on the gas stove. She went back to the table and sat down in her chair, noting that the captain was sitting in Hal’s spot. She couldn’t stop thinking about the embrace she’d seen the captain and Dana share…the kiss that was much too intimate for an old woman her age to be witness to. Still, Dana’s words echoed in her mind. They had a connection.

  “You know, Dana is a nice girl, isn’t she?”

  Corey nodded. “Yeah, she is. You know her folks?”

  Jean nodded. “Know of them, of course. Seen them around town a time or two. They’re much younger than us so we never socialized with them.” Then she laughed. “Not that Hal and I did much socializing. We were content being here at the farm together.” She shook her head sadly, knowing the farm—this house—would never be the same again. “My boys never did take a liking to the farm. It was like they couldn’t wait to leave here. Hal and I never understood that.”

  “I guess it’s like Butch and Dana. Butch stayed here with his parents, Dana moved off.”

  Jean nodded. “Young people have more opportunities now. When Hal and I were young, there wasn’t much choice. Jobs weren’t plentiful, not around here. Still aren’t.”

  “Do you regret not having a chance to leave the valley?”

  Jean shook her head. “No, no. I don’t recall there ever being a time that I wished I was somewhere else. This was home. We were happy. I can’t imagine being anywhere else.” She eyed the captain, waiting until she met her gaze. “You have regrets, Captain?”

  “Sometimes, yes.”

  “Sometimes wishing you hadn’t followed in your daddy’s footsteps?”

  The captain smiled, a half smile that didn’t really reach her eyes. “Sometimes I can’t imagine having any other life than what I have. And sometimes I long for a completely different life.”

  Jean reached across the small table, lightly touching her hand. “Like now?”

  The captain sighed. “I tell myself that if I wasn’t here right now, who would be? Who would be here with you and Dana? Would they be taking care of you?”

  “So it’s fate after all that’s brought you here. Is that what you think?”

  The captain stared at her. “Do you believe in fate, Miss Jean? Do you believe in God?”

  Jean thought about the old Bible that was in the nightstand next to her bed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d held it in her hands, the last time she’d even opened it up. It had been her grandmother’s, given to her when she and Hal had wed. It was well-worn, but she had to admit that most of the wear was from her grandmother’s hands and not hers.

  “After Hal and I married and moved in here with his mother…well, she wasn’t in a good place,” Jean said. “My family was church-goers. Hal’s too. Back then, everyone was. But after his daddy died, well, his mother turned her back on God. She refused to go to church, she blamed God for taking her husband from her. She’d never missed a service her whole life before that. Devout, in fact.” She got up and went to turn down the coffee, then pulled two cups from the cabinet. “Hal and I still went, even without her. For a while. I don’t remember when we stopped going. Once the boys were born, we should have taken them, but I guess it was too easy to stay here. We had already fallen into a pattern.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Jean turned to her. “If you’d asked me last week, I’d have said yes. About God, that is. Now…I’m not so sure.”

  “And fate?”

  Jean brought their coffee to t
he table and set a cup in front of the captain. “Life is funny sometimes,” she said. “When good, unexpected things happen, we often say it’s fate…or destiny. Bad things happen, we say we’re unlucky. But fate isn’t always good, is it? Was it fate that my Hal rode off to look for a helicopter? Or was it just bad luck on his part?” She met the curious eyes across from her. “Or did God not care enough about Hal to spare his life? Not care enough about me to bring my husband home?” She took a sip from her coffee and closed her eyes. So much had happened, she really hadn’t had time to think about it before. But now…now she realized she was angry with God, much like her mother-in-law had been.

  “I don’t believe…that there’s a God,” the captain said.

  She looked over at her. “No?”

  “No. Bad things, as you say. I’ve seen a lot of them. There’s been too many people killed in the name of God. No loving God would allow all of that.”

  “Some things can’t be explained, I guess.”

  “Yeah. And God works in mysterious ways,” the captain said with a bitter laugh. “That’s bullshit.”

  “So you think it’s only fate that’s brought you here?” She looked at the captain questioningly. “Are fate and God not one and the same?”

  “Maybe luck brought me here.”

  “Good or bad?”

  The captain laughed. “I guess it depends how you look at it.”

  Jean smiled at her. “Well, I certainly feel like it’s good luck on my part. I’m sure Dana feels the same.”

  “Yeah, I guess there’s no place that I’d rather be right now than here, hanging out with you guys.”

  Jean laughed loudly. “Oh, Captain, surely you don’t mean that. Have you grown that fond of us?”

  “Well, yeah I have. I’ve grown quite fond of you.” Her smiled faded a little. “There’s not anybody else I’d trust here with you, that’s for sure.”

  “Trust to keep us safe, you mean?”

  The captain nodded.

  Jean leaned back in her chair, relaxing for the first time in hours, it seemed. “Thank you. For being here to keep us safe. And for the chat. It felt good to laugh.”