by Debra Webb
“These ladies are severely lacking in discipline and motivation. They don’t need any additional distraction,” she snapped. That dark chocolate gaze looked anything but sweet now. She was ready to do battle.
“Sorry about that, Jane,” he offered humbly. Tom matched her hands-on-hips stance. “I’ll try not to interfere with your orders next time.”
She blinked, obviously taken aback by his use of her first name.
“You don’t mind if I call you Jane, do you?”
“Of course not,” she said quickly, taking a small, faltering step back.
Tom advanced the step she had retreated. “Good. And you can call me Tom. We’ve never been very formal around here. In fact, I’d say we’re pretty laid back most of the time.”
“Fine,” she said stiffly before backing up another little step.
A smile broke across his lips as he noted the uncertainty in those dark eyes. So G.I. Jane wasn’t nearly as tough without her military gear. Just what he figured.
His smile faded. Or maybe she simply didn’t like her personal space invaded by anyone.
Or maybe it was specifically him she didn’t like invading her space.
That ridiculous thought shouldn’t have bothered Tom, but it did.
It seriously did.
~*~
“Do I look like a rabbit to you?” Mrs. Suddath demanded crossly. She glowered at her tray and the miniscule low-calorie salad it contained before directing her death-ray gaze back at the woman she was addressing.
A tall, thin, graying woman wearing an apron and a hairnet glared back at Sandra Suddath from across the lunch line. “No,” the elderly cook snorted knowingly. “You don’t look a thing like a rabbit to me.” She squinted, looking Sandra up and down for several seconds. “In fact, I’d say you look more like a pi—”
“Is there a problem here, ladies?” Tom cut in smoothly. A charming smile slid across his lips.
Jane couldn’t help but smile herself at his close save. She imagined that if the cook had finished her statement, Sandra Suddath would have scrambled over that lunch line and given her what for. Jane had already decided that Sandra’s southern belle airs and graces didn’t amount to much. She would bet her next month’s pay that Sandra was a hellcat beneath all that Scarlett O’Hara refinement. Dear old General Suddath probably did the saluting at home.
Beulah Jackson and some of the other ladies continued to grumble about their being unable to live on lettuce leaves, alfalfa sprouts and carrot sticks. Jane smiled at the vulnerability she recognized in the ladies’ indignant complaints. They were really a good-natured bunch—except maybe for Sandra. Jane might not know from personal experience, but she realized how difficult it was to lose weight. And she had given them a pretty good workout that morning, considering they were not accustomed to strenuous physical activity at all. No doubt they were exhausted, and hungry for something more than a healthy, fiber-filled diet. But it was the only way to accomplish the mission.
Jane would never in a million years admit it, but succeeding in this assignment meant more to her now that she had gotten to know the ladies just a little. At, first, she had simply been determined to perform her duty to the best of her ability. Now she wanted to make a difference with these women. Jane’s own mother had been sedentary and overweight since Jane could remember. She had been too young and preoccupied with her education, and then her career, to take notice—until her mother had suffered a heart attack. Maybe Jane had a chance to help this bunch before something like that happened to one of them.
Geez, you’re sounding like an episode from Oprah.
“Won’t you join me for lunch, Jane?”
Jane snapped out of her musings to find Tom Caldwell standing right in front of her. She jerked back a step. She wasn’t normally easy to surprise. How had he sneaked up on her like that?
“Excuse me?”
“Lunch,” Tom repeated. “I asked if you would join me for lunch.”
Jane averted her gaze from his intense blue one. “Sure,” she replied, though sure was far from how she felt at the moment. He made her nervous…or something. “I would be happy to, sir.”
His smile was wide and boyish, and entirely too appealing. “Great. But don’t call me sir. It makes me feel older than I care to admit.”
Disturbed for reasons she didn’t fully understand, Jane followed him through the lunch line. She hadn’t really looked at him before. She had treated Tom Caldwell like she did the men in uniform. She gave them the respect that came with their rank—sometimes they deserved it, sometimes they didn’t—but she never really looked at them as people. It was easier to maintain a professional relationship with other soldiers if you didn’t get too close. Friendship got in the way of duty sometimes. So she didn’t get too close and she didn’t look. But something about Tom tugged at her.
Jane couldn’t help herself now as she gazed at him. He was tall. Of course, most people were tall to her, but Tom was six feet or over. Thick blond hair, much in need of a cut, contrasted well with his tanned skin. He had an athlete’s body, and a killer smile that excited her more than she wanted to acknowledge.
She absolutely refused to look into his eyes again. That particular characteristic of her new boss was far too distracting. His eyes were…amazing, to say the least. She had no intention of noticing them in the future. She would simply observe without seeing. She did it all the time. The next two weeks didn’t need to be any different.
The cook—Hattie, according to her name tag—offered Jane a tray loaded with a somewhat larger portion of salad. Jane accepted it with a smile. She wondered if the solemn-looking older woman was trying to tell her something. To most people, Jane looked as if she needed to eat more. But she was the proper weight for her height, and she intended to stay right there.
“So, have you gotten settled into your cabin?” Tom asked as he took the seat across the table from her. “Anything you need?”
“Yes, si—I have,” she stammered. “The cabins are much nicer than I expected. I have everything I require.”
Another of those broad, devilish smiles spread across his handsome face. Jane scowled. She didn’t like being constantly reminded of how handsome he was.
“We receive a lot of private funding, which helps.” He stabbed a cherry tomato and popped it into his mouth. “We could never have this many amenities if it weren’t for private donations.”
“Where do the kids that attend your camp come from?” Jane had been curious about that since her arrival.
“The local schools mostly. If a kid has problems throughout the school year that aren’t quite bad enough for legal measures, they’re required to attend one summer session before school resumes in fall. Most of the time it works,” he added, pride radiating from those amazing blue eyes.
Jane silently chastised herself for noticing again. “What happens when the Camp Serenity program isn’t effective?”
Tom blew out a heavy breath. “In those cases, we’re required to report the behavior to the local juvenile authorities. As extreme as it sounds, it’s the law, and our only real option.”
“You don’t agree with that?” Jane picked up on his hesitation.
He frowned, his fork halfway to his mouth. He set it aside and considered her question. “It’s not that I don’t agree with it—but it really is the last option and the only alternative. The parents are usually at their wits end, and the school has done all it can. I just hate to see it come to that.” He shrugged. “But it’s better to do that, than to risk those kids who don’t shape up here becoming increasingly violent at school. Too many incidents like that these days.”
The headlines from some recent tragedies across the nation came to mind. “True,” she agreed. Despite her determination not to, she looked at Tom—truly looked at him. What made an intelligent, gorgeous guy like him spend his summer doing this kind of work? Did Camp Serenity pay especially well? She would bet not. It was probably practically volunteer work. A new kin
d of respect welled as she assessed the man before her. Beneath that blond hair, blue eyes and those devilish smiles was a man of unusual sensitivity. Someone who cared about social problems and the kids he was determined to help. Had she failed to give him credit where credit was due when they first met?
Maybe.
Probably.
Tom Caldwell was a do-gooder, she decided. A do-gooder with a heart of gold.
She stiffened.
She’d always treasured her childhood memories of reading about knights in shining armor on big white horses, who rescued damsels in distress and kingdoms under siege. The kind little girls dreamed of when they read Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. The kind of guy who made you fall in love with him.
Jane resisted the urge to shake her head. She had a career. A career where spouses were a hindrance. If the United States Army wanted her to have a husband, they would have issued her one in basic training. No way was she falling in love with anyone. She simply would have to keep a safe distance from the man.
Tom smiled another of those killer smiles when he caught her staring at him. Her heart sank. He wasn’t going to make this easy.
“So, tell me, Jane, what made a little bitty thing like you join the Army?”
Annoyance rushed through her. This was the kind of patronizing attitude she’d battled her entire life. Maybe keeping her distance would be easier than she thought.
Although judging by the stricken look on his face, he’d obviously just realized he had stuck his foot in his mouth.
“Nothing in particular,” Jane said sweetly. “I just wanted to learn how to kick the crap out of big guys like you.”
Chapter Three
The next morning Jane paced back and forth before her sleepy-eyed trainees. She shook her head in disgust as Sandra yawned loudly, and Beulah started from the doze she had fallen into while standing in formation. Slackers, Jane fumed, the whole lot of them.
“Ladies, you will need to be in the bed no later than twenty-one hundred hours in order to be prepared for the next day’s activities,” she said sternly. “You cannot perform well without proper rest. Rest is essential.”
Sandra scowled and braced her hands on her ample hips. “Well, no one told us we had to be up at the crack of dawn.”
“Oh-six-hundred,” Jane said as patiently as possible. “Six a.m. That’s when we start our day here. If you had bothered to check the schedule posted outside the recreation center as instructed yesterday, you would have known that wake-up call was at oh-five-thirty.” Jane turned and paced determinedly in the other direction, her gaze moving from one groggy-eyed lady to the next. She resisted the urge to shake her head.” It will be to your benefit, ladies, to stay informed about your schedule.”
Apologetic sounds and acknowledgements grumbled through the group.
“All right,” Jane announced. “Let’s get started.”
Groaning and griping with every move, the women began what could only be called a lethargic warm-up. Jane struggled with her own disappointment, reminding herself that they were counting on her to help them get in shape, whether they fully realized it or not.
She hadn’t seen Tom so far this morning. And, if she were lucky, she wouldn’t. He was too much of a distraction, not only to her trainees, but to her. Her brow creased into a frown. She had never been so easily distracted before. He wasn’t the first good-looking man she’d had to work with in close quarters. Nor was he the first do-gooder she’ supported in a cause. It had to be something else. But for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what.
“Push-ups, ladies,” Jane ordered. “That means you actually have to move your bodies off the ground.” She glared at the group sprawled in the dirt before her. “Hands shoulder-width apart, now push up.”
Grunts and other sounds of enormous physical exertion served as background music to the feeble attempts at push-ups. Jane dropped and did five to demonstrate. The women merely looked at her as if she had lost her mind. But they tried, Jane had to give them that. In fact, Crystal did a pretty fair push-up. Maybe there was hope for this group after all.
Jane rolled her neck, then stretched her shoulders as she watched the women huff and puff. She hadn’t worn her hair down in so long it felt strange against her back. A long French braid held the thick stuff away from her face and out of her way. She didn’t know what had possessed her to wear it in a different style today.
But it had nothing at all to do with Tom Caldwell.
She frowned when a military vehicle pulled through the gate on the other side of the quadrangle and braked to a stop. She squinted against the sun to identify the soldier who got out. A package in hand, he strode directly up to Jane.
“Sergeant Passerella?”.
“That’s right. What can I do for you, Private Tipps?”
He thrust the package in her direction. “I have orders to deliver this package to Mrs. Suddath.”
“Thank you, private.” Jane accepted the package. “I’ll see that Mrs. Suddath gets it.”
Tipps nodded, pivoted sharply and headed back to the hummer in which he had arrived. Jane watched the vehicle disappear through the gate.
She scanned the plain brown box she was holding. It had no markings other than Mrs. Suddath’s name. With a shrug, she set the box aside and turned back to her trainees.
“On your feet, ladies.”
Jane didn’t miss the odd look that passed between Sandra Suddath and Beulah Jackson. Jane had the distinct impression that it had something to do with the newly delivered box. General’s wife or no, the box would have to be inspected before delivery. Jane had a feeling that whatever it contained, it wasn’t on Sandra’s diet.
Forty-five minutes later, the entire group had completed the calisthenics Jane had planned for the morning workout. The sun was beating down and it was unusually hot for seven in the morning. A sheen of perspiration had dampened Jane’s skin, due mainly to her having to demonstrate the various exercises repeatedly.
“Deep breaths, ladies,” Jane instructed. “We’re going to start the cool-down phase now.”
Someone from the back row choked out a “thank God.”
Jane illustrated each gentle exercise for the necessary cool-down, then walked around the group to see that each participant was properly executing the moves. Something in her peripheral vision caught her eye. Jane backed up a step and looked down at the box that had been delivered for Sandra. Jane frowned. A whitish liquid had leaked from the box and dampened the dirt around it.
Still frowning, Jane crouched next to the box and ripped the tape from the flaps. Behind her, a sudden hush fell over the panting group.
“Sergeant Jane, I believe that package is for me,” Sandra Suddath said quickly.
“Yes, ma’am, it is,” she returned, not looking up from the box she was opening. “But I’ll need to inspect it first. There appears to be a problem.”
“But…but…” Sandra sputtered.
Ice cream. The box held four half-gallon cartons of gourmet vanilla ice cream. Without pause or a second thought, her mouth set in a grim line, Jane picked up the package and walked to the dumpster next to the nearby dinning cabin. She didn’t miss the simultaneous gasps of disbelief and horror from behind her when she tossed the contraband into the dumpster.
Dusting her hands off, she strode back to the formation. “Now,” she said pointedly. “Form two lines, please. We have a long walk ahead of us.”
“I didn’t see that on the schedule, Sergeant Jane,” Crystal Winton, probably the only one who looked at the schedule, protested.
“That’s another thing to remember, ladies,” Jane said sweetly with a smile to match. “Always be prepared for the unexpected.”
~*~
Jane stood alone in the darkness just outside the dining cabin that night. It was almost 2200 hours. Another hour and she would call it a day. She took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh, clean air. Though it was still muggy out, the dark sky was clear and a hint of a breeze stirr
ed the leaves.
She leaned against a tree trunk and considered the strange fork in the road her life had taken. She almost laughed out loud as she considered that after six years of active duty, she was now standing in the middle of a youth camp temporarily turned into a weight-watchers’ retreat. How had this happened?
Jane had worked so hard at being a professional soldier.
She heaved a disgusted sigh. Why had the general picked her for this assignment? Jane thought she had done a damned good job as a drill sergeant. Did the general somehow consider her the most expendable of his soldiers? Jane shook her head in denial. She knew she performed as well as any of the men. No one could make her believe otherwise.
Maybe she had been chosen because the initial mission involved the general’s wife. Perhaps he felt Jane would understand Mrs. Suddath’s needs better than a male physical training instructor.
That thought made Jane feel a little better.
Fabric rustled behind her. Standing stock still, Jane waited, her breath stalled in her lungs. Someone was coming up behind her. Adrenaline rushed through her body, producing telltale chill bumps on her skin. The sound came from right behind her now. Instinctively her right elbow slammed into a solid ribcage. A soft grunt broke the air. Jane whirled and kicked the feet out from under her would-be assailant. A heavy body thumped to the ground. Moonlight spilled through the branches of the trees and revealed a tall man lying flat on his back.
Tom Caldwell.
Damn.
“Sorry, sir,” she muttered as she helped him to his feet. “You shouldn’t sneak up on a soldier like that. We react on instinct.”
“I’ll remember that,” he assured her tightly as he dusted himself off.
Heat rose in her cheeks as she considered that this was the second time she had swept Tom off his feet, literally. She hoped he wouldn’t mention these incidents in his report for the general.