The door opened to reveal a woman in a brown with white polka dot dress. Her mouth dropped open when she saw him. He looked down to make sure he had put on his prosthetic arm, which he had, so that hadn’t shocked her, and in the darkness there was no way she could have seen the full extent of the burns.
“Private First Class Phillips.” The words came out in a breathless gasp.
“It’s Lance Corporal now, but it would seem that you have one up on me. I’m looking for Gunnery Sergeant Diamond.”
“I’m…Madison North.” She held out a hand to him and as he took it, he noticed she had given him the one he could use his good arm to shake. “His um…handler.”
“Isn’t he the lucky one?” he teased before growing serious. “I’m taking it from your surprise neither of you were aware I was coming.”
“I’m sorry but no. Was this planned?”
He nodded. “I received confirmation the other day from Sergeant Major Graves. Maybe I should come back.”
“No, come in.”
“I think it would be best if you told him I was here first.” He nodded to the bench on the porch. “I’ll just wait here and if he wants to see me he can come out. If not…”
She nodded. “Give me a second. I know he’ll want to see you.”
He didn’t bother to sit down, but instead stood near the edge of the porch, looking up at the night sky. The stars didn’t seem as bright here; too many lights interfered and hid them from view, while out on the ranch there was nothing but darkness, allowing him to see all the stars in the sky. He had always lived in the city before but now he wasn’t sure he could ever leave the country. He was becoming a country man, even completed the look with the dusty cowboy boots and hat. What have you turned me into, Staci?
He tried to focus on the sky to keep the memories at bay but it wasn’t working. They were seeping in, threatening to take him over. He didn’t want to relive the memory of the mission that stole his limbs and left him injured. A smirk pulled up the corners of his lips. A year ago, he’d have called himself a cripple, but now he didn’t see himself as that any longer. He was injured but Staci had proven to him over and over he wasn’t less of a man now.
A car pulled out of the driveway across the street and backfired. That was all that was needed to send the memories flooding forward.
They had been following a lead that should have led them straight to one of the terrorists they had been searching for. With each mile, his unease worsened. He knew he was picking up on his Gunny’s nerves as he scanned the surroundings from the passenger seat of the lead vehicle. Gunnery Sergeant Diamond had been about to say something when gunfire broke out in nearly every direction, leaving no place to take cover. He had been unable to do anything but wait until they found cover. His best friend, Private First Class Weber, was returning fire from the turret but the insurgent numbers were too great. Surrounded…they were going to die.
“Gunny?” Corporal Juan Torres, the Humvee driver, nodded toward the roadblock before them.
“Fuck!” Gunny hollered to Torres but Kyle had barely heard it over the gunfire. “Reverse. Fall back. Now!”
Torres slammed the Humvee into reverse and plowed backward. On the radio, Gunny ordered the two additional Humvees to fall back. Blood dripped down from the turret. Weber was hit.
Without thinking Kyle knew he had to do something for his friend. He tugged off his seat belt and tried to access Weber’s injuries. He wasn’t a corpsman but he might be able to put pressure on the wound until they could get to safety and Doc, their corpsman, could get to them from the second Humvee. Even injured, Weber was firing, making each shot count, but there was too much blood. Weber wasn’t going to last long up there.
“Weber!” He hollered but got no response.
“Swing left and turn us around,” Gunny ordered as they neared a clearing without anyone blocking the way. They were nearly there. Just a little farther and they’d be out of range. Above him, the machine gun fire stopped and Phillips helped the now unconscious Weber back into the Humvee.
With a hard left, Torres had them facing the right way. Kyle got into position, taking over the turret. In the distance, the other two Humvees had managed to turn around as well. They were dealing with less incoming gunfire and were holding their own. It wasn’t his worry; he had to focus on returning fire on the insurgents who were still a threat. It was now his job to defend their Humvee while Gunny and Torres got them out of there. One moment the noise was deafening and the next, the assault subsided, only his machine gun continued. Even though they were no longer shooting at them, he couldn’t stop himself from firing. If he stopped, they would begin again.
Torres was nearing the road again after their off road adventure to get turned around. Scanning the perimeter, he had a brief moment to realize that every insurgent that had been there had moved back. Something wasn’t right.
He had barely had time to register the change in their surroundings when an IED exploded, sending their Humvee skyward. As they were tossed through the air, he didn’t have time to get inside.
Each second seemed like minutes as they were tossed around in the Humvee before it finally landed on its side. He flew through the air, and pain exploded throughout his body. So much that he wasn’t sure what hurt the most. The heat…flames. They were everywhere.
He landed hard, his Gunny’s voice in the distance hollering for him, gunfire even farther. It all seemed to be overcast as he fought to keep conscious.
He shoved his memories away as the door behind him opened and he turned to find Gunnery Sergeant Diamond standing there. The surprise was clear in his eyes but a friendly smile etched up the corners of his lips.
“Shocked that I’m here?” he asked and when Lucky didn’t say anything, he proceeded. “The last time I saw you, I was ready to give up. I didn’t see any reason for living. Not when I was down to one arm and one leg. I was half the man I was, but that all changed.”
“I can’t believe it.” Lucky stepped back. “Come in.”
“Well, believe it. I’m alive because of you. Your parting words had me so angry that they called in someone to speak with me.”
Lucky shut the door before turning back to Kyle. “I’m not sure why I’m to credit for you being alive.”
“Because four months ago, I married her. She came into my life to ease the anger, guilt, and regret. She showed me I was still a man and she fell in love with me. If it wasn’t for you turning my self-pity into anger, I’d have never met her and wouldn’t be here.”
“Here…as in Colorado, and doing this competition?” Lucky let out a deep laugh and shook his head. “Damn, I should have kept my mouth shut and let you kill yourself.”
“Gunny, there are plenty of Marines who could use the ten thousand you could win for them, and there’s no one better to do this than you.” He waited until they were in the living room and had taken seats, before adding, “I nominated you for this not as some payback, but because we need someone like you fighting for us.”
“I cooked for you guys because I enjoyed it. I never wanted any recognition for it.”
He nodded and leaned back on the sofa. “I’ve learned sometimes we don’t get what we want, but in the end it turns out better than you expected.” For him, it had brought him Staci; for Lucky, he wasn’t sure what it would bring him but there was no doubt in Kyle’s mind it would turn out for the best for him as well.
They spent the next hour talking, all the while avoiding the subject of their last mission together, even though the shadow of it lingered just beneath the surface. They were both remembering the events of that day, but neither of them wanted to say anything. Instead, they talked about the competition, Staci, and even the Colorado Mountains. Finally, unable to take it any longer he leaned forward and said, “You know I don’t blame you, right?”
“It was my responsibility to see that you all made it home. You and Weber were PFC’s on your first deployment and look what I let happen. You might n
ot blame me but don’t doubt that I blame myself every day. Weber and your blood is on my hands. Widow Weber’s grief is on my conscience, just as much as the fact that Weber will never see his son grow up.”
“We all knew the dangers when we volunteered, that we might not make it back and if we did, we might not do so whole. That didn’t stop any of us. It isn’t your fault. The blood that was shed that day should be on the hands of those who placed the IED, not yours.” Even as the words left his mouth, he knew Lucky would have to come to terms with the guilt when he was ready. It wouldn’t be something anyone else could do for him.
Just as Kyle had done. It had taken Staci coming into his life for him to accept how things turned out. Maybe, there was something happening between his Gunny and Madison. The brief few minutes he had seen her made him wonder if there wasn’t more of a connection between them than just her being his handler.
“I don’t like that they brought you into town to shoot some fucking interviews talking about that day. It’s a disgrace…”
“Gunny…” He paused because he was about to step into uncharted territories contradicting his superior.
“Just out with it, Phillips, I’m not your Gunny any longer.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He smirked because for him, Lucky would always be someone he looked up to and admired. “But fine. They didn’t bring me here to highlight the bullshit that happened, but because I’m the one that threw your name in for this. I contacted Sergeant Major Graves and he took it to the brass. There are Marines who are coming back all the time fucked up. They could use the money you could win them. But not only that, you’ll be doing it in Weber’s memory and for all the others who didn’t make it back. We owe them this.”
“For such a young shit you sure have life all figured out.” Lucky leaned back against the sofa and eyed Kyle.
“If so, then it’s because of what you taught me and what I’ve gone through. Though I better give my wife some credit as well or she’ll have my head.” Kyle chuckled. “After all this, I’d love for you to meet her. She’s a spitfire and wouldn’t let me give up.”
“Sounds like a good woman. I know that type all too well. Seems like I’ve got one on my hands right now.”
“Madison? So there is more than just the handler job.” Now that the subject was started he wanted confirmation. During Kyle’s time with the platoon, Lucky had had his share of women. There were always women willing to be seen with a Marine, so none of them had ever been without a date when they needed one. However, the Gunny had always seemed to compare them to someone else. Was this time different?
“Maddie…my handler.” Lucky shook his head. “In more ways than one, I guess, and like yours, she’s feisty.”
“Good for you. There’s nothing better than having a spitfire woman by your side.”
Lucky sat there for a moment lost in thought before finally nodding. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you. Seems you went and bought a ranch for your woman. Now that sounds awfully familiar, as well. Years ago, I bought Maddie’s childhood home, with the hopes that one day we’d live there with our own family. Though it never worked out.”
“My sugar would say that it’s never too late to get your happily ever after. Though I think sometimes they have to beat us over the head a few times for us to see what we really want.” He grabbed his cowboy hat from where he’d sat it and rose. “It’s been a long flight and I should get some sleep. We’ve got a busy few days with interviews lined up.”
“Thanks for stopping by.”
Kyle nodded. “I thought we should work through the unease of our last meeting without cameras around.” He strolled toward the door before turning back to look at Lucky. “Forgive me if it’s out of line, but it sounds like you let her slip through your fingers before… Don’t make the same mistake again. I saw the look in her eyes when she opened the door and saw me. She knew that seeing me would bring back memories she didn’t want you to have to live through again. She’s protective of you and cares about you. A woman like that is worth all the gold in the world.”
15
Chapter Fifteen
The days in Colorado passed at the speed of a snail, while all Kyle wanted to do was get home to Kentucky to his wife and their ranch. Interview after interview had torn shreds from him. He was tired of reliving what had gotten them to that place. Now there was only one last stop before he could board his plane.
Up ahead he could see the iron gates of the cemetery. Glen Haven, Colorado had been more than an hour’s drive but it was one thing he wasn’t leaving Colorado without doing. He owed Weber that much. Paying his respects at the grave of his fallen brother wasn’t enough but it was all he had to offer at the moment. If he had more time, he’d have made arrangements to visit Mrs. Weber. He hit the steering wheel of the rental car. “If guilt didn’t tear through me at the thought of seeing her, I would.”
Cassy Weber and her son, Johnny, had brought her husband home to bury him in the family cemetery. She wanted him there so he’d be close since she moved back to their hometown to raise her son. She had made something good come out of Weber’s death but it didn’t replace her husband or a father for her son. As he drove through the gates of the cemetery, the memory of the articles they had published on her and her new business popped into his thoughts.
Sewn with Love. A business brought about in memory of her husband where she turns the uniforms and clothes of fallen service members into something special for military spouses. This started out as a way to remember those who were killed in action, but it had gone far beyond that. Any spouse or family member could send in their clothes and she would turn them into whatever they wanted. Quilts were the biggest thing, but she also did pillows, purses, and more.
Cassy Weber has done something for his memory, and for the memories of others who have died during their service to our country. She’s turning tragedy into something that’s cherished. She gave her husband’s life and his death meaning, and by doing that, she’s giving others closure.
He shoved the car into park. One comment in the article he read last made him want to scream. Cassy Weber’s destiny was brought to life because of her husband’s death. Her destiny? How could anyone’s destiny be to lose the person they loved in order to make crafts? Weber’s life meant more to him, and sure meant more to her, than that. Right? Someday he’d find out the answer, but right then, he needed to focus on the closure he needed with Weber’s death. Until then, he couldn’t do anything to help Cassy. Even then, she might not want to see him.
If he had left Weber in the turret instead of changing places with him so he could return fire on the insurgents, then the man would be alive today to be with his wife and son. He might have been injured like Kyle but injured was better than dead.
At the gravestone, he ran his hand along the top. Flowers had been laid out before it. From the fresh footprints in the grass, it was clear someone had been there recently. Had Cassy paid a visit? How often did the widow come to her husband’s grave? One article, nearly a year ago, mentioned that she came daily but he hated to think of her making visits every day to her husband’s gravestone. To him, that wasn’t getting over the loss, only prolonging the pain. How long was long enough to grieve?
He shook his head. “What do I know about grief like she’s experiencing? I’ve never lost a family member.” Weber’s death was the only one that counted to him and part of that was because he blamed himself for it. Getting up in the turret might have been what saved his life, but it left Weber to die.
“Excuse me,” a soft voice called from behind him.
He turned to find the one woman that he hoped not to see—Cassy Weber. She strolled toward him with her long brown hair flying in the wind. He wasn’t sure why, but it surprised him that she looked happy. No dark circles under her eyes, no tears, and there was even a smile on her face.
“Kyle…” A smile etched across her face as she came closer. The smile could only do so much to hide the shock
in her eyes. Not all the surprise was from him being there; some of it was due no doubt to her seeing his injuries for the first time. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
“I’m sorry I hadn’t come before…” He suddenly felt like a schoolboy who was late back from recess. “I couldn’t…” He wasn’t sure what he couldn’t do. Couldn’t come to the grave of his best friend? Couldn’t meet the eyes of the widow he helped create? See the little boy that had been like a nephew to him and know that he was now fatherless?
She placed a bundle of fresh flowers at the foot of the headstone and wrapped her arms around Kyle. “Don’t worry about that now. It’s just so good to see you.”
“But I should have come sooner.” He stood there unable to do anything more than slip his one good arm around her. “I should have been at the funeral. I should have…” saved him.
“Nonsense. There was nothing you could have done. You were recovering from your own injuries.” She stepped back. “While that excuses you up until you left the hospital. Since then I had expected to see you. Johnny has wondered where Uncle Kyle has been.”
That sent a chill right through him. Poor Johnny, too young to lose your daddy. He and Weber had bonded so quickly during boot camp that he had spent a lot of time with the Weber family. Including holidays and weekly Sunday dinners when they weren’t deployed. They had been the closest thing he had to family. Poor Johnny must have been confused losing his father, and it couldn’t have been easier for the boy with Uncle Kyle suddenly gone as well. “I’m sorry.” He knew it wasn’t good enough but what else could he say? In truth he just couldn’t face Cassy and Johnny after he let them down.
“Stop apologizing and come home with me. He’ll be so excited to see you.”
“I don’t have much time. I’m flying back to Kentucky in a few hours, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to stop by and see him.”
Back From Hell (Marine For You Book 2) (Contemporary Military Veteran Romance) Page 11