That was what was important, he thought. She understood, she accepted, and she’d moved on.
At that moment she looked up at him, and he knew that if they were to move on with their lives he had to accept her decision. Like it he didn’t have to, but accept it he had to, for her sake. And for Harly’s sake, he’d do anything.
“Mr Bentley.”
Her father straightened and looked around at him, wiping a tear from his eye but meeting Alex’s gaze with a steady, determined one of his own. Not backing down. For that, you had to respect a man, and Alex nodded slightly.
“Alex.” Mr Bentley said gravely. “We love our daughter. Never think we don’t.”
“I know you do.” He took a deep breath. “And I love your daughter. I’ll take good care of her, she’ll never want for anything, and no matter what happens, I will be there for her.”
“Even when thousands of miles away?” her mother whispered.
“Yes,” he replied. “Me, my family if I’m away…you, her parents.” It was a big concession, but the glow in Harly’s eyes was worth it.
Boy, did she owe him. He’d had to choke that last part out. The fact that he had to mean it was a bitter pill to swallow, but what the hell…Harly was happy.
“Never doubt it.” Mrs Bentley’s reply was fierce. “We’ll always be here for Harly. No matter what you think.”
“It’s all right, Mum.” Harly squeezed her hand before standing and crossing over to Alex.
Placing his arm around her shoulders, he tucked her into his side, glad to have her safe in his hold once more.
“So, anyway,” she with forced brightness, obviously wanting to be done with the unpleasantness, “the instructions for the feeding of my furry kids are on the kitchen table along with the food. You have the spare key and the phone number of where we’ll be staying. I’ll be back in four days. Any questions?”
Jesus, he just wanted to squeeze her tight. Alex smiled down at her before looking back at her stunned parents. “I promise to take good care of her, and she’s promised me to phone you at each service station on her way home, so you’ll know she’s safe.”
“She does that anyway,” Mr Bentley muttered, subdued.
Oh, really? Alex gave Harly a little squeeze. So much for her promise when she already did it. No wonder she’d agreed to that so readily.
“Harly.” Mrs Bentley got to her feet. “Honey, you know we love you, don’t you?”
“Of course, Mum. I never doubted it.”
Mrs Bentley smiled faintly. “Just so you know.”
Harly broke from Alex’s hold to swiftly cross the room and embrace her mother, hugging her tight before turning to her father and repeating it.
No, there was no doubt the Bentleys loved their daughter.
Alex waited until Harly returned to his side, then he took her hand and steered her to the front door.
Her parents forced smiles as they waved them off, but Harly wasn’t smiling when she turned back to gaze out the front windshield.
Fully convinced that she was angry at him for forcing the issue, Alex waited for her to berate him, but as the silence stretched on he glanced at her. Her expression was unreadable. It remained that way the whole silent trip back to the house.
When they pulled up in front of the house, she remained in the seat while he turned the Jeeps engine off, got out and walked around to open her door. He held out his hand to assist her, and she came straight out of the cab and into his arms, burying her face in his chest and hugging him tightly.
Feeling her tremble, Alex cradled her close, one hand on the back of her head and the other at the small of her back. “I’m sorry for upsetting you.”
“No.” Her words were muffled by his jumper. “You said what you had to. It’s okay.”
Pressing a kiss on the silky hair before resting his chin upon her head, Alex sighed. “I guess I’m not always in control of my temper.”
Weakly, she laughed. “Temper? You were so controlled that I thought you were a robot.”
“My old training Captain would be pleased to hear that.” He rocked her gently.
“I just…” Her breath caught. “I just don’t like seeing them upset.”
“Your parents mean a lot to you.”
“As do yours.”
“Yes.” Comfortingly, he continued to rock her gently from side to side. “Guess there’s going to be a lot of compromise in this marriage.”
Surprised, she tipped her head back. “Marriage?”
“Of course.”
“Are you proposing to me?”
“Oops.” Grinning, he tucked her head back onto his chest. “Sorry. I forgot you weren’t ready for anything like that yet. Let’s take a raincheck.”
Any other woman would have been indignant. Harly just laughed.
And that’s why he loved her so much.
~*~
Five Months Later
Australian Army Base
Afghanistan
Dear Alex
Hmmm, that sounds so official, but I guess calling you Lover Boy just wouldn’t do in a letter. In case it falls into the hands of one of your fellow soldiers… you might cry if they start calling you the same thing. So I’ll just go for Dear Alex. I’ll leave off calling you Lover Boy until you come home.
Well the roof was leaking again, but Dad came over and fixed it. Nothing like a new, shiny piece of tin on the roof to really show me how old the other sheets are! Still, at least I don’t have to worry about a leaking roof.
Mum was over the other day to help plant vegetables. It’s her newest phase - please save me! Mind you, she’s fighting the birds for the seedlings, they keep coming along and destroying some of her crop. Hah! Crop! Makes it sound like a couple of acres instead of just a couple of raised garden beds. Anyway, she said we needed a scarecrow to put next to the garden beds *rolling eyes* and when I mentioned this to Marty on the phone, he suggested we ask you to send a pair of your ratty old undies home, he reckons that’ll scare the s**t out of any bird. Or dog. Or thief.
Cindy hasn’t given up on trying to make me join the Family Firm making plus-size clothes, but I told her - quite firmly - the answer is, and always will be, no. NO. She said ‘Sure. So, call me when you decide to sign a contract.’ And then she phoned me the next week to ask me if I’d named my price yet. Does she ever give up? Hmmm…she’s a Lawson, so I guess that’s a no to that, too.
Your Mum told me that you like corn. How come you never told me that? My Mum now insists we have to plant corn for when you come home. I told her the birds will probably strip the cob before then. Please send your ratty undies.
Becky is getting quite round now. Really round. Paul has managed not to disgrace himself by mentioning her weight. He did crash and burn though…he mentioned the word ‘hormones’. If you get back here before Becky gives birth, don’t mention ‘weight’ or ‘hormones’. Actually, add ‘swollen feet’ to that list as well.
So, my Lover Boy - oops, forgot I wasn’t going to call you that until you were home - that is all the news I have right now. I’ll be waiting for your reply. Miss you, love you, going to do naughty things to you when you get home.
*Kisses*Hugs*
Harly
Smiling, Alex looked from the letter to the photo on his locker. It was a copy given to him by Becky just before he’d returned to the city. It was the photo taken in her house that long ago night, when he’d been gazing down at Harly with such love and she’d looked right up into his eyes with an answering love that was so plain on her beautiful face. That photo was the first thing he looked at when he awoke, and the last thing before he went to sleep. Or when he got back from patrol, whichever came first…and last.
Picking up the photo, he pressed a kiss to her face. “Love you, Harly. Always.”
Opening his locker, he took out a pad and pen, rested the pad on his knee, and started writing.
~*~
Three Weeks Later
Harly’s Home
Dear Sexy Sheila
I can call you that because the only ones likely to see this letter are Buffy and Pepper, and they’re such staid old ladies that they’d never admit to understanding it. *leer* And please, call me Lover Boy in your letters all you want, everyone here already knows my reputation. Of course, that reputation is now all for you, but they don’t need to know that. *wink*
Glad your Dad fixed the roof. I’d hate to think of you doing the breast stroke (that’s for me to do to you) in your bed. When I come home, I’ll get up there and check out the rest of the roof. Then we’ll do the breast stroke…
You can tell Marty for me that he’s just jealous because my ratty undies mean I work hard. His are so pristine you could eat off them. Okay, I wouldn’t advise that. Eat off them, I mean. You have to maintain some hygiene. Ask Marty about his hygiene. It’s a little questionable most times. I should know, I lived with him during our teen years. I don’t think he’s changed much.
No, Cindy will never give up. She is a Lawson, as you pointed out. However, unlike me, she isn’t going to get the prize. I got the prize - you. *insert deep, hot kiss here. Use your imagination. I sure as hell am*. Just ignore her. I’m afraid it won’t make her go away, but it’ll save you some headaches.
Tell your Mum thanks for me. I’m looking forward to that corn. She’s to guard it from the birds with her life. Sorry, can’t send my ratty undies. Undies aren’t the easiest things to come by out in the desert, I need all the rags I can get.
Jesus, pregnant women! *please destroy this after reading it, as I don’t want Becky to kill me*. Poor old Paul. Tell him to offer to massage her feet, but for Gods sake, don’t mention the SWELLING! *guffaw*
So, my sexy little sheila, life out here is dust and heat and sand in my crack and all those other things that make life interesting. Poor old Billy fell off the tank and sprained his ankle, we laughed like hyenas. He wasn’t impressed, can’t imagine why. He gets to sit on his arse while we’re out slogging in the heat. Some people just don’t know when they’re well off, eh?
< Miss you, love you, going to do naughty things to you when you get home.>
Really? You’re going to do naughty things to me when I get home? Keep reading those erotic romances, but I’m warning you right now (no, I’m promising), my prowess will make those romances seem SO tame. Eat plenty of protein, build up your strength.
Oh, by the way - did I mention I’m coming home in the spring?
*Kisses*Hugs*
Alex *aka Lover Boy*
Laying the letter flat on the table, Harly sighed and smiled. Reaching for the photo in the antique stand that had pride of place in the middle of the kitchen table, she studied the photo as she always did whenever she’d read a letter from Alex. A copy also had pride of place on her bedside table. It was the last thing she looked at before going to sleep, and the first thing she looked at upon waking.
It was the photo taken in Becky’s house that long ago night, when she’d been gazing up at Alex with the love plain on her face for all to see, and he’d returned that gaze with an answering love that was just as plain on his face. It never failed to make her feel closer to him.
She pressed a light kiss to his face. “Love you, Alex. Always.” She placed the photo back down beside the second frame that held the photo of Alex in his soldiers uniform, leaning back against the Army tank, laughing but with that slight air of danger and alertness.
Going into the lounge, she returned with a pad and pen, sat down, and after reading his letter once more, she stared out the window, thinking for several minutes before she finally put pen to paper.
The sunlight pouring through the window caught her blue topaz and diamond engagement ring, the flash reminding her of her fiancé’s eyes. Smiling, she started to write.
Dear Lover Boy,
Unbelievably, I think you just flashed me. I can’t wait until the spring when you’re here and can do it in person…
####
BIOGRAPHY
Angela Verdenius lives in Australia, where she is ruled by her cats, adores reading, and thinks a perfect day is writing and drinking Diet Coke, followed by reading or a good horror movie.
To date, she has written numerous novels in sci-fi romance and contemporary romance, 2 novellas, and several short stories, one of which is a zombie story she had great fun writing. Her books have won many reviewers’ awards, as well as having been on the Fictionwise best-seller list and winning the Golden Rose Award.
Visit her website at http://www.angelaverdenius.com/,
The lighter side of life on her blog http://angelaverdenius.blogspot.com/
and at Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/angelaverdenius
The Lawson Boys: Alex Page 22