by A. C. Wilson
“Who wants breakfast?” He asked, flailing for some shift into movement.
“We ate.” Harper baldly told him. She wasn’t one to beat around the bush. That was one trait from her father.
“What would you like to do?” Lance knew he was opening a can of worms here, but he thought he would see what his little niece suggested. Harper pursed her lips in thought and then looked up at Regan.
“Can we play with your puppy?” Harper asked, smiling broadly. Lance nodded his head and pointed to the patio door. Chief was scratching on the glass door.
The German Shepherd puppy was thrilled to have playmates and although he mouthed the girls’ tiny hands, he was careful and gentle. Harper threw the red rubber ball across the yard and Chief barked as he went to fetch it back. He would stop, drop to his side and roll happily in the grass. Sitting in a plastic chair, Lance held Regan on his knee as she watched the silliness of her sister and the dog. Harper went to retrieve the ball, but ended up rolling in the grass beside Chief. Lance chuckled, feeling as if purpose had been dropped in the little pup’s furry paws and maybe it had also happened for his owner, too.
The morning sped by as they laughed, danced, and played with Chief. For July in South Dakota, the heat was relatively mild and there was a slight breeze that kept them cool in the shade of his cottonwood tree. Regan was sitting on a quilt in the grass, clanging a pot with a spoon and smiling gleefully. Harper was collecting all of the yellow dandelions and piling them in a clay, flower pot. Lance was busy filling a bird feeder he had bought the day before and hanging it on the tall hook he had found. It wouldn’t be long before the little birds were knocking each other about to garner seeds from it. Lance took out his phone and looked at the time.
“Hey girls! Are you ready to go for our ride to see some animals?” He looked expectantly at Harper. She acted as if she was too busy to speak to him. Lance looked at her sister, who punctuated the thought with a firm bang of the spoon on the pot. “Chief! Do you want to go for a ride?” Lance played up his question to the pup and Chief barked as he bounced around, his tail wagging double time.
“We want to come!” Harper shrieked, bounding toward them with her blonde hair flapping loosely in her ponytail. Lance chuckled and shook his head. There was something of an art in talking to children.
“Let’s get our things. We can stop for a snack on the way if you are hungry.” Lance’s mention of a snack had Regan sticking her bottom lip out and whimpering. Her little fist jammed into her mouth as drool slid out of the corner.
“She’s hungry.” Harper stated the obvious. Lance scooped Regan up and they walked into the house. Immediately, he was looking for the baby’s diaper bag where Andy said she had stashed some cereal puffs and milk. It was sitting on the counter and he rummaged through the bag with one hand while holding Regan on his hip. As he started to pull out random things, Lance wondered just how much stuff a baby needed.
“Harper?” Lance asked, looking around. His niece came in with Chief on her heels. “Can you find your sister’s puffs, please?” Lance put the bag on the table and pulled out a chair for Harper. She scrambled up, happy to assist.
“Got them.” She held them up, waving the yellow container around in triumph.
“Strawberry-Banana.” Lance made a face and then lifted his eye brows at Regan. Her slimy fist was pulled from her mouth and waving frantically in the air. “Coming right up.”
After snacks and a diaper change, Lance had the girls loaded up in the back seat of the car. He couldn’t believe that an hour was used up trying to figure out the sticky tabs on the diaper and then the many buckles used to strap a baby into her car seat. It was absolutely humbling by the time he got them figured out. He wasn’t above admitting that a slew of curse words had filled his brain and luckily, they hadn’t been spoken to such absorbent ears. He also had a new found respect for parents, even more so for single parents.
Lance followed the directions from his navigation system to find the Wildlife Loop through Wind Cave National Park. The scenery was absolutely breath taking. Lush green prairie dotted with short yellow and white clustered flowers. Occasionally there were some native sage and the ever-creeping musk thistle that was slowly spreading throughout the park. Scrub pines drifted over rises in the land as if they might be ocean water slipping over sand bars.
Driving along the grey highway, Lance thought it was much like Easter morning where treasures were hidden just out of sight. Every turn through the hills brought more and more into view. They had found a turn off in order to view the bison grazing on the green grass. Their heavy bodies dark against the brilliant sunshine. Young calves bucked and chased each other around the adults. A short distance from the car, sharp yips met Harper’s ears and she squealed. Little pudgy prairie dogs were mere feet from their vehicle. Their squat little bodies were funny to watch and their tails twitched quickly as they also fed from the grasses. To Chief’s credit, he seemed uninterested in the rodents.
Lance continued down the road, driving sedately as they were practically the only ones out and about. Regan had conked out and was now snoring softly in her seat. Harper was all about pointing out the critters from her window.
“Look! There’s deer!” Lance looked to where she said there were deer and he smiled.
“Those are antelope, sweetie. Similar to deer, but smaller and faster.”
“Antelope.” Harper tried out the word and then kept repeating it. They watched the animals and most certainly they were being watched as well. The further they got into the cover of the trees and winding hills, the more buffalo they saw. One bull was larger than Lance’s car and was only thirty feet off the side of the road. It had made his heart race and his palms sweat as he inched by the animal. Large, dark eyes tracked them, but the bull acted as if he could care less. A couple of small white-tailed deer raced through the clearing, jumping a five-foot high fence and disappearing into the trees.
“Are you having fun, Harper?” Lance asked as they pulled out onto the main highway for home.
“Yes.” She answered, playing with something that chirped a whole bunch. He couldn’t figure out what toy that might be.
“I’m glad you went with me today.” Lance told her, knowing the truth of that statement deep down in his heart. It was a perfect adventure and the girls had been angels.
“Are you going to stay here?” Harper asked promptly getting to the point as most children are prone to do.
“I am going to stay. Would you like that?” Lance wondered why his heart stuttered while waiting for her answer. Again he was searching for home and a place that he belonged.
“Yes. I love you.” She said matter-of-factly. Her words brought a lump to his throat.
“I love you, too, Harper.”
“I love Chief, too.” Harper smiled as he watched her from his rear view mirror.
“What do you say to that, Chief?” Lance asked the pup, who rolled his eyes up. Harper giggled and Lance joined in.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“I know this isn’t exactly what you wanted to be doing this morning, but I need your honest opinion before I open this exhibit up to the public.” Andy looked at him nervously, tucking her long blonde hair behind her ear. Lance couldn’t say no to her imploring green eyes and there was a small part of him that wanted to see what she had been working so hard to create.
“Lead on.” Lance followed her into the building, the door catching on the rug and he had to readjust it in order for the door to close completely. When he turned around and walked into the room, his breathing nearly came to a halt. The lighting definitely aided the beauty of the memorial pieces, but it was the items themselves that begged to be considered, read and digested.
“Go ahead. I’ll wait here until you’re done.” She indicated the counter and she disappeared, leaving him to wander through the gallery. His feet traced their own path along the slate grey tile and he found himself standing in front of a picture of an elderly man, dark eyes reaching
from the photograph. Below the picture was a podium set up with a velvet box open to reveal a Purple Heart medal for the soldier who had served in Vietnam.
Next to that was a photograph of six young men, all in their gear with arms around each other as someone snapped the camera. He read the inscription. They were all in World War II and none of them had made it home alive. One of the men’s sweethearts had kept the picture and shared it with Andy. The comradery and hope on their faces illuminated the black and white image. He wondered if his brother had had friends like that.
Moving along, Lance found a letter from a South Dakota woman to her sweetheart in World War I. In turn, the sweetheart has sent a letter back to her. In it, she had told him that she was planning their wedding. Her mother was sewing her dress and they had just purchased enough lace to finish it. The flowery swirl of the cursive writing made Lance think of his grandmother’s handwriting before she passed. It was emotional and impressive to see. Lance read into the next letter, noting the thicker, shakier writing of the woman’s fiancé. He expressed how amazing she would look in her wedding dress and to tell her mother not to spare any expense. He asked her if it would be agreeable to marry on Christmas Day, which from the date told Lance that it would be almost a year away. The soldier wasn’t sure he would be back before then. That was all he said about the war he was involved in. From what Lance knew, it would only upset his fiancé who was living for the moment he returned. Did he return? The wedding photograph spoke volumes. They were a handsome couple.
Around the room he ventured reading a newspaper article about a South Dakota POW, an Honor Star recipient and another heartbreaking letter from a father who had lost his son in Vietnam. Lance felt the words imprint themselves on his brain.
Dear Peter,
I find myself alone at 2am haunted by the ticking of this damn clock and wondering what you are doing right this minute. Are you thinking of home? Are you lonely and scared in a place absolutely foreign to you?
I regret that I wasn’t able to support your decision to stand up for our country. Fear often builds to anger inside me and I feel sick with the need to keep you safe. With me. Your mother cries herself to sleep nightly, praying that you’ll walk through the front door at any moment. I tell her that you will. Please don’t make me a liar, son.
I’m going to close now before she finds me sitting at this table with tears in my eyes as I write to you. I have to be strong for her. Keep yourself safe and your head down. I love you, Peter. God willing, I will hold you in my arms again soon.
Your loving father.
Lance couldn’t swallow passed the lump widening in his throat. It was as if he could have written the letter to his brother, because the emotions were the same. Funny how a uniform, a gun and a foreign country could scare up the same fears decades later. The sadder point to this dedication was that Peter didn’t make it home. It was noted that the letter had been opened and it was assumed that the soldier had read it before his death. Lance thought that at least he knew his family loved him and that his father was proud of him. It was a hell of a lot more than Terrell had had—a pregnant girlfriend and his little brother. It was a small condolence line.
Lance brushed at the tears that filled his sight as he walked to the final podium. He closed his eyes when he read his brother’s name in bold letters. The podium spot was empty, but above it was a picture of Harper and just below that was a picture his little niece had drawn of a sun, flowers and a single stick figure. Lance wasn’t sure if his heart was swelling with pride or if it was going to explode from the pain.
“I know you didn’t want to share his flag, but there’s a spot if you decide you’d like to. Terrell matters. I wanted to do something for him.” Andy stood next to him, her head turned to view the exhibit. The whole thing was a testament to how important sacrifice was to everyone and how much they all mattered. Lance thought that maybe once he could look at it that way, his anger and grief might ease.
“You did a great job. I’m sure everyone will be proud.” Lance took in a deep breath, willing his heart to stop banging so hard in his chest.
“Thank you. Kayla will be in to open up after the parade.” She looked at her watch. “Speaking of which, we better get moving. The girls are going to be bouncing out of their seats for the parade.” He smiled and followed her outside.
Lance watched the Hot Springs Fourth of July Parade march through town and he smiled at the easy laughter of his niece. Harper was a gem. She darted along the curb for the candy that was tossed from many of the floats. They easily filled half a plastic grocery bag with assorted candies. Harper even gave Regan a sucker to hold. Nothing was lost on that little girl for she readily shoved it into her mouth. Andy groaned. It was fun watching the fire trucks, the tractors, the school bands, the classic cars and the long string of horseback riders pass by them. The clowns on bicycles had Harper laughing and clapping her hands as they weaved in and out of their walking counterparts. For an hour, his heart was lighter and less troubled by the past.
Lance was helping Andy load the girls into her car when he decided that his brother should be honored.
“Do we have time to stop by the house to pick up Terrell’s flag before lunch?” He watched her fair head lift up, her eyes meeting his.
“We’ll make time.” She offered a small smile and then she ducked back down to buckle Regan into her seat. Lance was glad that it was her and not him.
“There.” Andy settled the flag into its appointed spot and Lance felt his heart flutter in his throat, his breathing sporadic. The dark triangular case was lit up by the soft overhead lights positioned above. The public memory for Terrell Harper was complete and it was so inclusive. The three items were the most important things in his life—happiness, Harper and the oath he took to serve his country honorably, giving the most anyone could give. Terrell deserved the comradery of the others on display today. He was in good company.
“He would have loved this, Andy. Thank you for giving others a chance to share their military heroes.” Lance accepted her smile and in a moment that stunned him, he felt small fingers slip into his hand and grip. Looking down, he saw a little angel with large blue eyes staring up at him. She didn’t smile. There was an other worldliness about her that he hadn’t noticed before. Her pink lips pressed together and then she surprised him again.
“He was a good man.” Lance felt tears sting his eyes, he could only nod. “He loves you.” Harper told him, no hint of silliness. Somehow she knew how important it was for him to hear that. Lance squeezed her hand.
“He loves you, too.” Unable to stand any longer, Lance dropped to his knees and swept his angel into his arms. Without knowing it, Harper had cracked open the paralyzing sores and managed to give him just what he needed to heal them. It was amazing how it started with a dream and that dream bore a sweet little girl. Without any chance of knowing what he was doing, Terrell had left his brother a gift of love, hope, and an unending faith. Silently, Lance swore on every star on his brother’s flag that he would do his best to preserve that legacy.
“I love you, Uncle Lance.” Harper whispered in his ear as if it were a secret just between them. Lance chuckled and hugged her tighter.
“I love you, too, baby girl.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A.C. Wilson was born and raised on the family farm in western Nebraska. She now lives in historic Abilene, Kansas with her husband and two boys. She is fond of being outdoors, fishing with her family, and reading when she is able as well as writing as often as possible.
Her books are filled with the love of family, loyalty, pride, and a fierce determination to hold onto what matters. Check out her contemporary western romance series featuring the Black Hills of South Dakota. The Black Hills Series is very near and dear to her heart. Check out her Broken Country books: Discovering Taryn (2015), Chasing Taryn (2016) and Deserving Taryn (2016).
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