Cupid's Bow: The First Generation Boxed Set

by Storm, Melissa

  Had she meant it as a way to brush him off? Had he been too dense to pick up on her intentions? Well, it seemed he had a choice. Now his love could set her free.

  He hoped she could forgive him. Their affair had intensified much too quickly. He knew she was still in mourning for her lost airman. He knew, and still he pushed her to give it all, to give far more than she had left to offer.

  He thought of Deborah, then George. He needed closure on both counts, oh how desperately he needed closure. Deborah had helped him make peace with George’s memory, but losing her now brought back every bit of pain he’d managed to suppress over the last several days, all at once—whoosh—in a torrent.

  And he was drowning in it. Drowning. When the air began to come more regularly, he pressed his uniform, got dressed, and started up his truck. The Army had to take him back, seeing as he no longer had anywhere else to go. Korea was calling once more, and he planned to answer.

  * * *

  Deborah tiptoed into her house for the second time that night, although morning had almost reached their cozy little suburb by the time she found her way back home. She breathed a sigh of relief when the living room revealed no angry father, no disappointed mother, no lamp clicking on.

  Slowly, she wedged open the door to her bedroom, and inside lay her mother fast asleep on the bed. Drat!

  Well, she could face her mother now, or she could wait and face both her parents together. Best to be over with it, she supposed.

  “Mother, I’m here,” she whispered, nudging her mother’s shoulder while kneeling near the bed.

  “D-Deborah?” Her eyes blinked open and she smiled. “There you are.”

  “Yes, here I am.” She waited for her mother’s face to freeze over, for the lecture to begin. Only it didn’t.

  “You were out with the sargent again.” A statement, not a question.

  Deborah nodded.

  “And you’ve fallen quite hard for him.”

  Another nod.

  “Well, what are you going to do about it?”

  The past year swirled through Deborah’s mind; memories blurred together. She saw James for the first time at the soda fountain, Rip standing in the door frame. She remembered kissing James under Huxtable’s watchful gaze, and Rip in the waters beneath the cliff. Love, fear, not knowing what came next.

  “I don’t know, Mama.”

  “Then it seems you have some thinking to do.” Her mother stretched and sat up in bed, pulling Deborah’s curly head into her chest and stroking her hair.

  Deborah debated telling her about his admission of love, about his proposal, but felt it better to keep the finer points to herself until she actually figured out how she wanted to answer Rip’s request.

  “Mother?” she whispered.

  “Yes, dear.”

  “How did you know father was the one?”

  “Trying to choose between the one we never met and the one we just met, are you?” Instead of waiting for a reply, her mother chortled softly. “I reckon it’s because he’s the only one who ever asked.”

  “Oh.” Deborah tensed. That hadn’t been the answer she was looking for. She’d loved and been loved by two men. Opening the door to one would mean forever saying goodbye to the other, and turning her back on love seemed like a very difficult thing to go.

  “But,” her mother continued. “I didn’t need anyone else to ask. I knew straight away I’d be his girl.” She chuckled again. “Well, maybe not straight away. I actually despised him at first, but it didn’t take long for the daggers I shot in his direction to turn to daffodils. And when he asked me to accompany him for a walk about town, I couldn’t help but agree.”

  Deborah thought back to her first meeting with Rip, the one in which he had been so rude. Then she thought of James asking her to spend his last night with him. Which man should she pledge her love to? Surely, she couldn’t pick both, and choosing neither saddened her to the point of despair.

  “Don’t worry,” her mother said, apparently sensing her confusion. “You’ll figure things out in time. And probably not even as much time as you think.” She gave Deborah a kiss on top of her head, then stood to leave the room.

  “I’ll leave you with this: try to picture your life without each of them. The one you can’t imagine saying good-bye to is probably the one who’s meant for you. Good luck, dear.”

  Deborah lay down on top of her quilt and did and did as her mother had suggested. She thought of James and their perfect romance, of Rip and their whirlwind affair. She pictured saying goodbye and losing them both forever. And as a tear crept down her cheek, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

  Chapter 12

  Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Cough.

  “Well, everything sounds in working order. How is the shell shock treating you these days?” the doctor asked, while pressing his cold stethoscope against Rip’s chest.

  “Oh, I’m just swell.” Rip smiled to prove it.

  The doctor frowned. “No more nightmares? No more waking up in a cold sweat?”

  “No, sir. I’m ready to get back to the action. Seems the brief time away helped me to heal. Now I’m ready to honor the commitment I made to this country.”

  He studied Rip’s chart through wire-framed glasses. “Everything seems good. I’ll just need to run a few more tests, but if everything turns out as I suspect, you’ll be cleared to return to duty. They say there’s a new Asian conflict brewing. They’ll need experienced NCOs such as yourself to show the green kids over there how to fight. One way or another, there’s enough commies to go around. Are you up for the challenge, Sargent?”

  “Sir, yes, sir!”

  “Then it seems you’ve got our work cut out for us. Go on and head home. I’ll give you a call later today to confirm your results.”

  Rip hadn’t expected bluffing the medic to come so easily, but he also hadn’t expected to become so desperate to return to Korea, or somewhere else in Asia, or anywhere but that small suburb that held all his best memories with Deborah. Somehow somewhere he could finally be of use. Whether that meant living to fight another day or dying the moment he stepped foot on international soil, well, he wasn’t sure he even cared all that much. He’d just head home, pack his bags, return to base, and await further instructions from his commanding officer.

  * * *

  The moment Deborah’s shift at the nursing home ended she raced toward Rip’s house to give him her answer. Yes, yes, as many yeses as there were fireflies in the sky on that dark Louisiana night when she had known for sure that they fit just right in each other’s arms. She’d been scared then, and she was scared now. But hadn’t Roosevelt once said something about the scariest thing in the world being none other than fear itself?

  Being afraid meant she had something to lose, and that something was Rip, the one true love of her life. Could things have worked out with James in another life? Surely they could have, but she’d already been living without him for the past year, and somehow she’d managed to survive. She wasn’t certain she’d be able to do the same with Rip, were she to turn his affections away.

  Yes, she had decided, and she couldn’t wait to tell the whole world, starting with Rip himself. She threw her bike onto the lawn and raced to his front door, so excited she practically shook with anticipation.

  Knock, knock.

  She pictured him opening the door and throwing his arms around her, lifting her up and spinning her about in circles. She pictured the kiss they would share, the look of pure joy that would blossom on her mother’s face when they told her the good news.

  When no one answered, she knocked again. Sleeping, he was probably sleeping. After all, neither of them had gotten much if any sleep the previous night.

  She knocked a third time, and finally a haggard, old woman opened the door. It took her a moment to recognize the woman standing before her. “M-Mrs. Sutton, hello. How are you today?”

  Cold fingers of dread clenched at Deborah’s heart. Where was her
fiancé? Where was the man she loved?

  As if reading her mind, Mrs. Sutton said, “Looking for the soldier boy? I’m afraid he’s left, and in quite a rush too. He left me some mess to clean up before this place will be rentable again.”

  Deborah had to force the words out. “I don’t understand. Why would he leave?”

  “Going back to the front lines from what I hear. Says he’s all fixed in the head and ready to move on with his life.” Her voice softened and she cast an expression of pity toward Deborah. “Why, darlin’, you knew this was only temporary, didn’t you?”

  She sighed and pulled Deborah to her bosom. “Oh, honey.”

  Deborah sniffed and pried herself from the old woman’s grasp. “I-I have to go.”

  And just like that she was off, running back to her house, grabbing her father’s car keys from the little ceramic dish next to the door, and embarking on the long drive to the airport. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe she could catch Rip before he left once and for all.

  Oh, this was all her fault. She should’ve said yes the moment he asked, or at least not have run away. Because now he was following suit, running so far away it would be impossible for her to follow. That is, unless she managed to catch him first.

  She pulled into the airport’s bustling parking lot, leaving her father’s car at the curb. She’d be in so much trouble when it got towed, but she’d be in even more trouble if she just narrowly missed Rip by taking the time to find a proper parking space.

  Inside the terminal, she spied a young woman kissing her beau goodbye. They embraced, then he hiked his duffel over his shoulder, pulled his cap down over his eyes and strolled through the gate. The airport attendant shut the door behind him and returned to her desk.

  Deborah ran over to her. “Where is this flight headed?” she begged as she pressed her sweaty palms into the counter.

  “Vietnam, ma’am, but we’re all full up.”

  “Please, can I just have a moment to speak with one of the passengers?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, no. We’ve already closed the gate.”

  “But you don’t understand,” Deborah cried, turning so the stranger wouldn’t see her sob. She watched as the plane rolled across the terminal, then picked up speed and lifted from the ground, taking with it any last hopes she had of securing her very own happily ever after.

  No college, no husband, and no happiness. She’d probably live with her parents all her life, volunteering at the nursing home, watching all her closest friends die off one by one, only to be replaced by a new batch of seniors who would soon die as well.

  Bleak.

  Someone came up behind her and placed a hand on her heaving shoulder. She sucked back her tears and readied an explanation for the attendant. Only…

  Rip.

  She grabbed onto him and held him tight, searching his eyes for an answer. “I thought you had left.”

  “I was going to. But turns out the doc said I wasn’t cleared for combat anymore. Something wrong with my heart.” He tapped on his chest, the same place where all the silver scars lay hidden beneath his uniform.

  She placed her hand over his and vowed never to let go of what they had again, not even for a moment. She kissed him, and said, “Well, maybe I can help with that. If you’ll still have me.”

  Rip’s handsome smile broke across his face. “I’d very much like that.”

  Look Homeward, Angel

  The call came on the warmest day of summer, which was ironic really, since the news meant he’d be moving to the coldest part of the country.

  “Alaska?” Deborah wrinkled her nose when he told her, and he immediately regretted even considering leading his new wife so far away from her family.

  But then her features softened, and a huge grin stretched from cheek to cheek. “Oh, I’ve always wanted to go to Alaska! Do you think we’ll see penguins?”

  Although Rip knew for a fact penguins lived at the South Pole and not the North, now hardly felt the time to quibble over minor details. He took his bride in his arms and studied her carefully. Deborah always wore her emotions plain as day across her face. The only answer he needed to make this decision was the look in her eyes, and that look was…

  Full of love and nothing else.

  “I know what you’re doing.” She laughed. “Yes, let’s move to Anchorage. It will be like an adventure.”

  “You’re really sure?” he asked once more. “I could get a job here in Texas. We could stay near your family.”

  She planted her hands on either side of his neck and brought her forehead close to his. “You are my home. Not Texas. Not Alaska. Not anywhere. Wherever we can be together, that’s where I’ll be happiest.” She smiled, and her tone became playful. “Besides, the Army is such an important part of who you are, and this Cold Weather and Mountain Warfare program thingy sounds perfect. Maybe I can take up knitting. Seems we’ll need lots of extra thick socks where we’re headed.”

  And by January of the next year, they found themselves living in a tiny apartment just a few miles removed from the base of Fort Richardson. Alaska proved itself to be every bit as cold as Texas had been hot.

  “Look at that moose!” Deborah shouted as they drove the last few miles in their several day journey to this strange, new home. “He’s just walking across the road without a care in the world. Can you believe that? Hey, Mr. Moose, where you headed?”

  She collapsed back into her seat in a fit of giggles. “Oh, Rip. Isn’t it just as you’d imagined it would be? It’s like a winter fairy land. I half expect Santa to show up with his reindeer and welcome us to the neighborhood.”

  Rip smiled and bobbed his head. While his wife was charmed by their surroundings, Rip felt fear clench hold of his heart.

  The ice, the snow, the below-zero wind chill, it all brought back the memories he’d tried so hard to forget. Freeze-locked guns, enemy fire raining from the skies, blood seeping out from fallen soldiers staining the snow red…

  There would be no rest for him. Each night starting with the first in their new home, he’d wake up screaming. Deborah did her best to comfort him by offering a warm glass of warm milk and stroking his hair until he fell back to sleep, but the night terrors persisted.

  Night after night, he watched his friend George fall before him; he tried to work the ice out of his legs, to run, but he was stuck in place as the bullets flew toward him. Any second now, he’d…

  He woke up gasping for breath.

  “Hush, hush,” his wife said from across the room. Suddenly, the overhead light flickered to life, revealing the starkly decorated room they had yet to make their own.

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “It’s five in the morning.” She returned to his side, sat down next to him, kissed his forehead. “Take the day off, spend time with me,” she urged. “We’ll take a long weekend.”

  He hesitated, but Deborah was quick to justify her request.

  “I think it’s time we saw just how many good memories are here too. Let’s have an adventure, Rip. After all, we’re a bit overdue for something fun.”

  The way she smiled with such earnestness as she awaited his answer was more than enough to convince him of her plan, but before they could get started, Rip had a plan or two of his own... He pulled Deborah back into bed kissing her with an urgency he so often had when it came to his beautiful bride.

  “Well, this is certainly fun.” She giggled as he helped her out of her pajamas and into his arms. They made love quietly, then slipped off into the predawn light to begin their next great adventure.

  * * *

  Deborah had been ready for this. She knew living once more among the snow and mountains would trigger Rip’s shell shock, but she also knew they could get through it together. That’s why she’d spent so much time in the library and on the phone with various travel agents prior to their big move—and she’d done it all in secret, of course.

  Now the long weekend was stretched before them, and she
knew exactly how she wanted to spend it. The timing couldn't have been more perfect, either.

  “Where to?” Rip said as the engine of his truck rumbled to life.

  “That’s the best part.” She knew if she showed her excitement, he would soon follow suit. “We’re taking the long road to Fairbanks!”

  Rip shot her a quizzical expression, but she was not to be deterred.

  “Don’t worry, it will be fun, and fun is just what we need right now. I have it all planned out. It will be lovely, I promise.”

  He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, then pulled out onto the main road. Sometimes they needed words to communicate; at other times, just a glance said the world. Today she felt the words of another would suit them best. She fiddled with the knob for the radio. Luckily, it only took a few moments to find exactly what she had been looking for.

  Nat King Cole’s smooth, angelic voice danced across the airwaves and into the cab of their truck.

  Rip smiled and swayed to the beat.

  When the chorus arrived, Deborah belted it out loud and spirited and completely off key.

  “Oh, my lovely, little lark whose song is sweet only to me.” He laughed, and Deborah jabbed him in the arm but then joined in.

  “Sing it for me, Rip. Just like you did that first night, lying out by the cliffs as the sun dried our clothes. Don’t you remember?”

  He reached across the seat to hold her hand. “And then that second night when we arrived for his concert only to find we’d missed it by a day. I thought you were crazy when you suggested we drive to the next venue.”

  “Don’t forget the one after that too!” She squeezed his hand. “You needed a little crazy in your life. Still do as a matter of fact.”

  “Always will. Forever.” He took his eyes off the road for a moment, took her in, then began to sing in his strong, beautiful voice that easily rivaled that of their favorite singer.