Finish the Course (The Barnes Family Book 1)

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Finish the Course (The Barnes Family Book 1) Page 12

by Riker, Becky


  He did, actually, but he thought it would seem strange to her.

  “My dad preferred to sleep in the one closest the door unless we were on the ground floor. Then he wanted to be next to the window.”

  He looked down at the bed nearest him, “This one is good.”

  She smiled and crawled under the covers, “I thought so.”

  He shut off the light and pulled back the covers.

  He didn’t move for a couple moments.

  “Slater,” she sounded sleepy again.

  “Yeah?”

  “I have my eyes closed, and the lights are off. You can get into bed.”

  He snagged the pillow off his bed and threw it at her.

  She laughed into it, “Why thank you. I appreciate the spare.”

  He awoke the next morning before Anna and propped himself up on an elbow to watch her sleep. She had braided her hair the night before and it was coming out in soft tendrils around her face. She had one hand under her face and the finger of the other touching her lips like she was reminding him to be quiet.

  As if she could feel his eyes brushing over her, Anna stirred. Slater looked away quickly. He flopped onto his back and stared intently at the ceiling.

  When she yawned, he rolled over onto his stomach and buried his head under his pillow.

  She sat up, “Slater, are you awake?”

  “Mmph.”

  She sounded like she was untangling her feet. She was standing up. Slater waited for her to walk into the bathroom, but it didn’t happen. Instead she sat down next to him. On his bed!

  He didn’t have enough will power to keep his eyes shut. He lifted a corner of the pillow and peered at her, “What?”

  She seemed concerned, “Are you okay?”

  “M’fine.”

  She wasn’t convinced, “Are you sure?”

  He knew it. Every woman, at some point, needed to talk about what the man was feeling. She always seemed too good to be true.

  He threw the pillow off his head and lifted himself up on his elbows, “I’m fine.”

  She shrugged and stood up, the concern completely gone from her voice, “Okay. I was just wondering because you’re usually up earlier than me. I thought maybe you had trouble sleeping or something.”

  He shook his head, a little startled by the change in her demeanor.

  “No, I slept really well.”

  “Do you want the shower first?”

  She was wearing gym shorts and a sweatshirt – certainly nothing revealing. Her hair was a complete mess, and her face had pillow creases on it. She was stunning.

  “No, you go ahead.”

  She was out faster than he had imagined possible.

  “All yours,” she came out in the same clothes she had worn in though she had obviously taken a shower.

  He was wearing his pants from the day before, but hadn’t managed to put a shirt on. He caught her eying his torso, but she quickly looked back to the things she was pulling out of her bag. Shoes, stockings. He dashed into the bathroom before she could get to anything more intimate.

  Slater had forgotten to take clothes into the bathroom with him. He wrapped himself in a towel and was about to pull his old clothes back on when she rapped on the door, “I’m going to go see what they have for breakfast so you can get ready without me ogling you.”

  He laughed and opened the door a crack, “Were you hoping to ogle me?”

  “What do you think?” she opened the outside door and left.

  She was back within ten minutes. She knocked on the door.

  “I come bearing gifts,” she was balancing two juice bottles, some bananas, and a couple slices of toast.

  “In that case,” he stepped out of the way, “please, come in.”

  “I didn’t know if you were a doughnut person, but they didn’t have any muffins, so I brought toast.”

  He finished shaving and reached for his shirt, “I like almost anything except strawberries.”

  “Allergic?”

  “Nope – I just don’t like ‘em.”

  They were almost finished eating when she brought up the sleeping arrangements, “Do you know if there are any more rooms available?”

  “Why?”

  “Because we don’t leave until tomorrow.”

  He stood up and threw his trash into the can, “Did I snore?”

  “Not that I know, but I’d like to give you some privacy.”

  “And have some yourself?” he reached for his tie.

  She shook her head and picked up her toothbrush, “I’m okay, but I know you’re getting teased, and this is an emotional time for you. You may find you need some time to yourself.”

  Slater knew he was more accustomed to sharing living quarters than Anna was. It wasn’t the privacy that he craved so much; it just much more stressful to share with her because of his attraction to her. He found himself in a constant struggle to keep his thoughts pure.

  He would check about the room situation on their way out of the hotel.

  Slater stood next to Anna at the sink while she brushed her teeth, adjusting the ends of his tie.

  She brushed and spat, then repeated the process.

  After rinsing, she turned to him, hands already on the dark fabric at his neck, “You’ve been in the Army for fourteen years. How is it that you have such problems with a tie?”

  He allowed her to fix his knot, “I don’t always.”

  “It was pretty strange on Sunday.”

  It was hard to breathe with her so close. Wasn’t she done yet?

  “There,” she patted his chest for good measure, “looks good.”

  “Your boyfriend or father?” he inspected her work, grudgingly admitting to himself it looked better than his ever did.

  “Mom,” she walked past him to get her purse, “because she always ties Dad’s.”

  The funeral was beautiful – a true tribute to the man they had lost. While listening to the speakers, Anna wished she had known the man.

  “I’m so glad you came, Slater,” Andrea Teague gave him a hug after the service, “I had heard you weren’t going to make it because of some red tape in Washington.”

  Anna slipped past them and went go sit on a bench. She was close enough that she could see him, and he wouldn’t have to look for her, but far enough away to give him privacy.

  She was surprised when Avery Hall came and sat next to her. She inched over to give him more room.

  “I think I owe you an apology,” he opened the conversation with his purpose.

  “I appreciate that, Hall,” she looked at him.

  He nodded toward Slater, “You’re good for him.”

  She crossed her ankles, “I’m not anything for him.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  She didn’t particularly like discussing this with him, “Bad timing, I guess. Too bad for me.”

  “Too bad?”

  Anna wished she would have left that part off. She just shrugged, “He’s a great guy.”

  A rather plump, attractive young woman walked up to the pair and laid her hand on Hall’s arm, clearly communicating her ownership. Anna had expected the dance teacher to be a little more willowy, but that was obviously thinking inside the box.

  “Cheryl,” Hall held the woman’s hand, “this is Captain Barnes. She got us out of Pakistan a few weeks ago.”

  Anna held out her hand, “It’s Anna.”

  “How nice to meet you, Anna. Are you the one who brought them in as well?”

  She nodded. Hoping the woman wasn’t going to ask her to explain how so many men died.

  “Avery said you made an amazing landing. That you saved everyone’s life.”

  Anna glanced at Slater and Mrs. Teague, “Not everyone.”

  Cheryl looked down, “You aren’t blaming yourself for those who died, are you?”

  Anna didn’t answer, but she saw Hall shake his head at his fiancée.

  Anna met the other woman’s eye and spoke quietly,
“I was responsible for getting those men safely to their destination, and I failed. I try not to dwell on it, but you can bet I won’t ever forget it.”

  Porter joined them, apparently not hearing what the conversation was about.

  “Hello again, Captain,” he emphasized her rank.

  “Sergeant,” she rose so she was eye level with the man.

  DeWitt limped toward them and flung his arm over Porter’s shoulder, “Hey, Barnes.”

  “DeWitt,” she smiled. “How’s the leg?”

  “Good as new,” he patted it. “How’s the foot? Hall said you took a shiv in it.”

  “Good as new.”

  “You coming to the house?”

  She shook her head, “I’m not sure. I need to ask Slater what he would like me to do.”

  “Slater?” Cheryl’s eyebrows rose.

  Anna didn’t correct herself. What was said could not be unsaid.

  The man in question joined them, “Hey, DeWitt, can Barnes and I catch a ride with you?”

  That answered the question.

  The Teague home turned out to be a small portion of Andrea’s parents’ acreage. She and the kids lived there while Major Teague was overseas but joined him whenever he was on base. They had done so for twelve years.

  Eight year old Betsy Teague found Anna sitting alone on the edge of the picnic table while the men played basketball. Anna only had heels, and she was wearing a skirt so she didn’t ask to join.

  “Do you want to see my tree house? Daddy built it for me.”

  Anna nodded and stood up, “I’d love to see it. Can I go inside?”

  Betsy looked the woman over, “You might have trouble in those clothes, but you’re allowed.”

  Anna followed the little girl into the woods.

  “See?” Betsy pointed to the rope ladder, “it’s kinda hard with a dress.”

  Anna looked behind herself, “Maybe if you climb up first, you can keep a lookout. Then I can climb up and nobody will be able to see me while I’m climbing.”

  Betsy covered her little pink mouth with a hand and giggled, “I’ll be a spy for you.”

  Betsy clambered up and, lifting her skirt slightly, Anna followed after. Once she arrived at the top, she sat on her bottom with her legs dangling out the door.

  “You made it, Captain.”

  “Do you think you could call me ‘Annie’? I had a friend when I was about your age and her name was Betsy, so it would be like I was a kid again.”

  Betsy’s eyes widened, “So we’d both be kids?”

  Anna nodded.

  Betsy sat down next to Anna. The door faced the yard, so they had a pretty good view of the people milling about.

  Her little hand touched Anna’s, “Sometimes it’s hard being a grownup, isn’t it, Annie.”

  She turned her hand to hold the soft fingers, “It sure is.”

  “It’s hard being a kid sometimes too,” the response sounded so old. “Especially when your daddy dies.”

  Anna felt tears pricking her eyes, so she blinked.

  “It’s okay to cry, Annie,” the little girl touched her hair. “You’re a kid now, and you can cry.”

  Anna nodded, “I think it’s okay to cry even if you aren’t a kid – especially if your daddy dies.”

  “Did your daddy die too?”

  “No,” she leaned back on her elbows and looked up at the ceiling of branches, “he’s alive, but when I was really little I used to be afraid he was going to die.”

  “Is he a soldier?”

  Anna nodded, “He’s a general.”

  Betsy’s eyes were wet too, “He must have been in the Army a long time. My daddy said he would never get to be a general because he didn’t want to be in the Army that long. He was going to be done soon.”

  Anna wished she had brought her purse up with her. She was going to need to wipe her eyes before she would be fit for company.

  “Betsy?” her mother was calling her.

  Betsy sat up, “I’m showing Annie my tree fort, Mom.”

  Andrea stopped at the base of the tree, “Who’s Annie?”

  Anna scooted forward and waved, “It’s me, Mrs. Teague.”

  Andrea looked surprised, “Oh, Captain Barnes.”

  Anna wondered if the woman was going to make her come down with an audience.

  “Are you two having a nice visit?” Andrea looked at her daughter.

  “Annie’s dad is a general,” Betsy offered. “We’re being little girls together right now.”

  “Okay,” Andrea called back up, “I’ll talk to you later then.”

  Anna looked at Betsy who scooted back into the fort. She followed suit.

  “I have tea party things up here,” the little girl opened a box to prove her claim. “They aren’t my nice tea things, but they’re good for out here.”

  Anna folded her feet under herself, “Do you think we could have a tea party up here?”

  Betsy’s eyes lit up, “Do you want to? Joanie doesn’t like to anymore, and Mom won’t come up here, so we always have to do it with the fancy ones in the house.”

  Anna helped spread out the ‘tablecloth’ which was just an old pillowcase, “I’d love to. My brother never played with me.”

  “So you only could play with your friend, Betsy, right?”

  Anna nodded, “But she couldn’t always come over, and so I had to play with my dolls.”

  Betsy giggled, “I sometimes do that. Or stuffed animals.”

  Anna waited for the little girl to serve the ‘tea.’

  “I bet the men would be jealous if they knew we were having tea and,” she pointed to the item the child had put on her plate, “what is this treat called?”

  “Pinecone cake,” the somber reply was immediate.

  “And pinecone cake,” she took a pretend nibble.

  “We would be jealous,” a deep voice came from below the doorway, “and a little miffed we weren’t invited.”

  Betsy looked at Anna in horror of being discovered, “Hide the pinecone cake! The thieves always steal it.”

  Anna obliged by shoving them all behind her.

  Betsy picked up a stray and shoved it into the pillowcase.

  Slater’s head came into view, “What is this I hear about pinecone cake?”

  “Too late,” Betsy stuck her nose in the air. “We ate it all.”

  He pulled himself into the room, “Not even one little piece left for me?”

  Betsy squinted, “I’m not sure. Are you a handsome prince or a mean ogre?”

  He shrugged and looked to Anna for help, “I hardly think I’m the one to say.”

  Anna looked back at Betsy, “Your tree house – your decision.”

  She thought a moment and then pulled out her hidden prize.

  He dutifully took a bite.

  “Ew!” Betsy’s eyes rounded in horror. “You’re not actually supposed to eat it, Captain Reed. Gross!”

  He shook his head, “No?”

  “No,” she scooted away from him as if he might ask her to taste it. “It’s pretend.”

  He laughed, “So you won’t mind if I don’t finish it? Because it tastes pretty bad.”

  Anna laughed with them.

  “Say, Betsy,” he helped them put away the tea set when they were done, “how’d you know who I was?”

  She held up three fingers.

  “First,” she pointed to his name badge, “it’s right there. Second, I met you when we were training last year. You bought me an ice cream.”

  Slater smiled, apparently remembering the incident.

  The little girl wiggled her third finger, “Also, I have a picture of you and Daddy.”

  She opened up a plastic tote and handed him a picture, “See,” she flipped it over, “it says, ‘Daddy and his friend, Lieutenant Slater Reed, in Mexico. I know you’re not a lieutenant now, though.”

  Slater stared down at the picture.

  Anna watched him swallow convulsively. Apparently, he hadn’t gotten
the memo that it was okay to cry because he was struggling against it.

  “Hey, Betsy,” she scooted to the door, “Do you think you could show me your fancy tea set?”

  Betsy nodded, “I could, and you could also see my new doll.”

  Anna scooted to the door and looked down, “Do you think you could go down ahead of me so you can chase away anyone who comes around?”

  She nodded, “I’ll pretend I’m a hippo. They’re very dangerous.”

  Anna turned to Slater and squeezed his knee, “You want a few minutes?”

  He nodded, not looking at her.

  She spun around and placed her feet on the rope, taking just a moment to be sure she had a firm grip before climbing down.

  Slater didn’t return even after Betsy had shown Anna her tea set, her doll, and her new school dress.

  Andrea came looking for her.

  “Have you seen Slater?” she stood in her daughter’s bedroom door.

  Anna nodded.

  “Garret and Hall are getting ready to leave, and they’d like to say goodbye.”

  Anna stood up, “I’ll see if I can find him. Do you happen to have an icepack?

  Andrea took one from the freezer and gave it to Anna without question.

  Anna left the house, grabbing her purse off the counter on her way.

  Anna didn’t know if Slater would welcome the intrusion, but she did know he would want to talk to his men before they headed out.

  She took her heels off again and climbed the ladder.

  Slater looked up at her, and she was relieved to see he hadn’t held in his tears completely.

  “You okay or do you need a little more space?”

  He shook his head, “Is everybody looking for me?”

  She handed him a tissue, “Not everybody. Garret and Hall are leaving soon, but they’ll wait.”

  She got up on her knees and patted her lap, “Lie down.”

  Slater wondered what she was planning.

  She repeated the motion, so he complied.

  “I’m going to tell you something, and I want you to listen good,” she pulled something out of her purse, “I don’t think there is anything wrong with grieving the loss of your friend.”

  “You mean a grown man crying,” he closed his eyes.

  “Exactly,” she lay a hand on his forehead, “This is cold.”

  He jumped when he felt an ice pack cover his eyes.

 

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