Heart of a Marine

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Heart of a Marine Page 5

by Patricia (Patty) Campbell


  “What?”

  “The two men loading a truck. I saw them when we were on our way to my house and back here, but I didn’t recognize them.”

  He leaped from the table so fast the dishes rattled, and his chair teetered. He grabbed his cell phone off the counter and punched a couple of keys. “Pick up, pick up! Cluny? Dwayne. Get your ass over to the jobsite. Sure, bring them. Yes, double time. I’ll meet you there.”

  Marla had a hand on her chest. “What’s the…?”

  Snatching his wallet and keys, he headed for the front door.

  “Dempsey!”

  “Stay here!”

  She jumped to her feet. “If you think I…”

  “I said stay here, dammit!” He slammed out the door.

  Stunned, Marla slumped back in her chair with a thump. Her heart clenched. Something was very wrong at the jobsite. Who did he think he was yelling and ordering her around? When Skipper leaped into her lap, she gasped and realized she’d been holding her breath.

  A shaky voice interrupted her fury. “Daddy said bad words.”

  The child stood by her chair, knees wobbling, face twisted with worry. Golden brown eyes swam with unshed tears.

  Marla’s stomach clenched for the poor kid. She shooed Skipper away and lifted Amber onto her lap. “It’s okay, honey. Don’t worry about your daddy. I’ll be here until he gets back.”

  “Daddy never says bad words unless it’s rilly rilly serious.”

  Expressing confidence she didn’t feel, Marla rubbed Amber’s back and smiled. “I’m sure he’ll call soon.” She set Amber on her feet. “Let’s put your daddy’s plate in the oven so his dinner won’t get cold. We’ll finish ours, then sit with him and keep him company when he gets back. Okay?”

  On a big sigh, Amber took her seat. She pointed to the dog. “Skipper’s worried too.”

  Marla chuckled. “Chihuahuas always look worried. It’s those too-big brown eyes. He’s fine. That’s his feed-me stare.”

  “Can he have some more?”

  “I suppose it won’t hurt this time. He’ll be thrilled if you take a small spoonful from your plate and drop it on his.”

  Amber giggled with delight at Skip’s excited reaction. His entire body from neck to tail wagged when he realized he would get more of the cheesy noodles.

  Marla’s mind wandered for the next few minutes while they finished eating. Dwayne’s abrupt departure had sent a stab of fear through her chest along with anger at his command. From his instant reaction, she figured he hadn’t authorized any of his men to be on the job today.

  She glanced across the table. Amber had asked her something. “I’m sorry, sweetie. My mind wandered. What did you say?”

  “Would you tell Daddy I ate all my salad?”

  “Absolutely. If you eat all of it.”

  A dramatic sigh and big pout preceded Amber’s reply. “I didn’t think you would.” She jabbed a fork in a piece of tomato. “This is the only part that’s not yucky.”

  “You know what? I didn’t like salad when I was your age either.”

  Eyes wide, Amber said, “You didn’t?”

  “Nope. Then I realized that lettuce didn’t taste like anything. All I had to do was chew it and swallow. Besides, I wanted to set a good example for my little brothers.”

  “You got little brothers?”

  “They’re not so little anymore. All grown up, handsome, twenty-year-old twins.”

  “I wish I had a brother.”

  Marla laughed. “Careful what you wish for.”

  Head cocked like a curious puppy, Amber asked, “Why?”

  The comment had gone right past the little girl’s head. Not used to talking to children, Marla realized she’d have to pay more attention to her words. “Nothing, I’m just teasing. Now finish up and we’ll clear the table.”

  Another tortured sigh. “Ooookay.”

  Marla rinsed dishes and placed them in the bright new LG dishwasher. Dwayne had updated the old Crocker house. She admired the top-of-the-line Jenn-Air stove. The cupboard hardware looked modern, and the faux-wood floor was definitely a new addition.

  Amber handed over her empty plate and Skipper’s empty dish.

  Marla smiled and took it from her. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “No, but I still don’t like green stuff. Do you like Cinderella?”

  “I love Cinderella! Why?”

  “Daddy borrowed me a new DVD from the liberry, Barbie Cinderella. Wanna watch it?”

  “I can’t think of anything Skippy would rather do than cuddle in your lap and watch Cinderella.” Marla hung the damp dishtowel on the oven door bar.

  Dwayne’s truck peeled onto the gravel jobsite lot just as two men jumped into a truck loaded with tools and equipment. He slammed on his brakes, activated his car alarm, grabbed his Louisville Slugger, threw open his door, and ran toward them.

  The red-bearded driver got the truck started just as Dwayne smashed the windshield and driver’s side window. The man threw open his door and knocked Dwayne off his feet. Then he jumped out and made a grab for his throat. Dwayne blocked him with a stiff-arm to the chin. The guy went down on his butt with a thump and raised a cloud of dust.

  Exchanging punches, the two men struggled. Dwayne had gained the upper hand when the other guy jumped on his back and knocked him down again. A hard elbow to the jerk’s neck had him clutching his throat, gasping to breathe.

  “Nobody messes with my boys!”

  From the corner of his eye he saw Miss Emmaline charge from the door of the building wielding a broom like a weapon. “Get back inside!” he yelled.

  She didn’t slow down. “Don’t you tell me what to do, young man,” she snarled, then walloped one of the men on the head with her broom. She landed another whack on side of the guy’s shoulder, then pointed the bristles at his face and jabbed.

  He fell back howling and raised his arms to protect his eyes. “Stop it, you crazy old bitch!”

  “That does it!” Dwayne’s jaw tightened. He struggled to his feet and slammed his elbow hard against the man’s nose. Bone cracked. Blood spurted as the bastard fell to his knees.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Emmaline growled at the driver trying to get back in the vehicle.

  The creep scooped a handful of gravel and flung it at her. Her glasses went flying and she staggered back.

  “Why, you cretin, you scoundrel.” She raised the broom again. Dwayne moved to shield her.

  Cluny’s big green muscle car slid to a skidding halt a few feet from them. Doors flew open. Cluny, Slim, and Jack leaped out, all carrying baseball bats. Cluny ran to the man standing by the open truck door and slammed the bat hard into the guy’s solar plexus, doubling him over.

  “Better think twice before you mess with a bunch of Marines, pal!” He shoved him to the ground.

  Slim and Jack used their bats to break the headlights and the rest of the windows in the truck.

  Dwayne shook his head at the ringing in his ears. “At ease, men.”

  It was over as quick as it started. Sirens howled in the distance. A beat-up blue car that had been parked at the curb, engine idling, tore off like a rocket and disappeared around the corner. Dwayne was sure he’d seen the driver before but couldn’t place the bastard. Was he part of this crew or just a curious onlooker?

  Dwayne retrieved Miss Emmaline’s glasses from the ground and put his arm around her bony shoulders. “What did you think you were doing, old woman?”

  “Don’t you ‘old woman’ me, youngster. I can give as good as I get. Always could.” She straightened her spine and in a universal womanly gesture, smoothed her hair. “That’ll teach them.”

  Dwayne laughed and swept her off her feet. Against her struggles, he whirled her around and gave her a crushing hug.

  “What am I gonna do with you?”

  She pounded his big shoulders. “You should be more concerned about what I’m going to do with you once you put me down, you good-for-not
hing.” She kissed his cheek.

  Chapter Five

  Dempsey had been gone for three hours. The tension in Marla’s neck got worse by the minute. She tried his cell number only to hear it ringing on the floor by the front door. He’d been in such an all-fired hurry to leave he hadn’t noticed he’d dropped it. Amber slept against the cushions at the corner of the sofa while Skipper snored on the child’s chest, his nose buried under her chin.

  At the sound of Dwayne’s truck engine, Marla jumped to her feet. Skipper’s ears perked up and he raised his head. “Good boy, Skippy, go back to sleep.” He buried his nose in Amber’s neck, and Marla tiptoed to the entry.

  She extended a warning hand and put a finger to her lips before Dwayne had a chance to speak and pointed to the kitchen.

  “In there.”

  When they stepped through the door, she whirled on him and whispered, “Amber’s asleep. Where in heck have you been all this time? I’m ready for a big dose of Prozac!” She raised an accusing finger. “You charge out of here shouting orders like I was one of your workmen,” another finger up, “leave me in charge of your child,” a third finger, “you don’t call,” fourth finger shook in his face, “because you left your phone here, you…oh, holy goats! You’re bleeding, Dempsey. Are you all right?” She touched his cheek.

  “Yeah.” He blew out a breath and nodded. “Sorry. I need to sit down and get off my leg.”

  Without waiting for her reply, he brushed past her. Marla pressed a hand against the back of her neck and dogged his limping steps. More than his face had been hurt. Something happened to his leg.

  She hurried to the sink, wet the dishtowel in cold water, wrung it out, and pressed it against his cheek. “Were you in an accident?”

  “No, a battle. We caught some losers red-handed, stealing our tools and equipment.”

  “We?” Marla lifted the wet towel to look at the cut on his cheekbone. She sucked in a sharp breath between clenched teeth. “Who’s we?”

  “Me, Cluny, Slim, and Jack. We got there just ahead of the cops.” He chuckled, and that brought on a wince of pain. “Miss Emmaline called them when she heard my car alarm, then she jumped into the middle of the fight and gave one of those bastards a good beat-down with a broom.”

  “She did?” Her eyes grew wide with surprise. “Were those the men I saw? How’d they get in? Where was Hercules?”

  “His handler brings him over just before dark. He works the night shift. We never thought anybody’d try to rip us off in broad daylight.” He grasped his left leg just below the knee. “Dammit! Will you do me a favor and grab those crutches by the front door?”

  Marla pressed the towel against his cheek. “This town is going down the tubes. Did those thieves get arrested?”

  “Youch! Take it easy.” He leaned back to ease up the pressure. “The cops took them in. All but a guy in a blue car who was probably their lookout. He hauled ass right after the fight started.”

  “Sorry, you probably need a couple of stitches. Shall I take you to the ER?”

  “No, it’s only a scratch. Just bring the crutches, please. I need to get my weight off this leg and take my pants off so I can have a look at it.”

  “Keep the towel pressed there while I get them.”

  When she retrieved the crutches and handed them over, he dropped the towel and struggled to his feet. She sighed with relief that the bleeding on his face had stopped.

  Dwayne thumped down the hallway in the direction of his bedroom. She followed.

  “I’m gonna drop my pants, Danaher. You might want to stay out.”

  She huffed and stepped in front of him to open the bedroom door. “I’ve seen men’s underwear before, Dempsey. I have two brothers I practically raised on my own.”

  “In case you haven’t been paying attention, I’m not your brother.”

  “Shut up. I couldn’t care less about how you look in your underpants. I want to make sure I don’t need to get you medical help.”

  “Your call.”

  Leaning his crutches against the bed, his back to her, Dwayne unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them below his briefs.

  Marla swallowed, Oh, my. Then she brushed off her reaction to step in for a closer look. Right the first time, he isn’t my brother.

  He twisted around, sat on the bedspread, and pushed his jeans below his knees.

  Sharp shock took her breath away when she gaped at the prosthesis attached to his left leg. “Dwayne…what hap—?”

  “Daddy?”

  Marla spun around to see Amber standing in the doorway, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Skipper’s toenails tapped on the floor as he trailed behind.

  “I’m here, squirt. Come on in.” He pointed to his pants. “Help me pull these pants off, Okay?”

  “Are your toes itching again?” Amber knelt on the floor in front of him and scratched the toe of his empty boot. “I’ll scratch ’em for you.”

  Marla’s head swam, her breathing rapid and shallow. Dwayne had part of his leg missing! When had that happened? How had she not known it before now?

  “They don’t itch tonight, sweet pea. I just need you to help me get this contraption off.”

  “What happened, Daddy?”

  “I took a spill and it’s sore. I gotta get the pressure off, that’s all.”

  Without realizing she’d moved, Marla knelt beside Amber and untied the leather thongs on his right work boot. “Do you have something to put on that?”

  Amber jumped to her feet. “I know where Daddy’s feel-good goop is. I’ll get it.” She ran to the bathroom. Marla heard the opening and closing of cupboard doors. She returned holding a large jar. “Here it is.”

  “Thanks, honey. I’ll unhitch my gear and you can help Marla pull Daddy’s jeans off.” He undid the fasteners on the prosthesis, then leaned back on his elbows and held out his leg so Marla could haul his right boot off.

  Amber tugged the prosthesis free from his left pant leg, and then together they pulled on the hem of his jeans.

  Dwayne exhaled. “Jeez, what a relief. This thing hurts like a son-of-a-gun.” He sat straight, hooked his hand under his right knee, twisted sideways, and lifted it so both of his legs rested on the bed. He tugged off the gel-sock covering the stump. It flamed red with an angry bruise slashed across the area above and below his knee where the brace had been attached.

  He reached for the jar, but Amber held out of his reach. “I can do it.”

  Marla’s heart banged against her ribs. She stared at this little girl who had taken over the care of her father. Her little fingers dipped in the jar and plucked out a blob of clear gel. She massaged it on Dempsey’s damaged limb.

  The medication was odorless, but Marla got a whiff of Dwayne. Even though sweaty and disheveled, his seductive male scent got her heart tripping.

  He sighed and fell back against the pillows. “Thank you, squirt. You’re the best nurse I ever had.”

  Marla blinked when Dwayne pointed to the chair next to the bed. “Sit down before you fall down, Red.”

  Desperately working to organize her thoughts before she spoke, Marla sat and stared. Skip hopped onto the bed to investigate Amber’s progress. He sniffed around then walked up Dempsey’s body to his chest where he flopped on his belly as if to hold Dwayne prisoner while Amber worked.

  “Skipper! Get down from there.”

  Before she could move, he placed his hand on the dog’s back and grinned at the mutt’s bulgy-eyed stare. “He’s okay. You’re fine, aren’t you, soldier?”

  Skipper’s tail thumped a steady rhythm against the man’s flat belly.

  Dwayne faced Marla. “You better start breathing soon, Red, or my nurse will have two patients on her hands.”

  Marla closed her mouth and wondered how long it had been hanging open. A hot flush burned her cheeks. “I’m…I…wow. How long have you had…what happened?”

  “Operation Iraqi Freedom, March ’03. Nearly got my ass blown off over there.”

  Amber aim
ed a disapproving face at him. “You’re saying a lot of bad words today, Daddy. No ice cream for you.”

  “Yeah, sorry. I’ll clean up my act.” He tugged a lock of her hair. “You keep me in line.”

  Marla marveled at the easy interplay between father and daughter. Even though six-year-old Amber had innocently prayed for Dempsey to get her a new mom, heaven help the woman who ever tried to get between those two.

  “Does everybody know about your…your uh…foot, except me, Dempsey?”

  “I don’t advertise it. My family knows. And that includes Miss Emmaline. The men on the job know. They’re all Iraq vets.”

  Hoping she wasn’t being obnoxiously nosy, Marla asked, “Are any of the other men…wounded?”

  “Cluny got hit in the same battle.” He threw his forearm over his eyes. “But nothing you can see.”

  She twisted her hands. “Shall I get you something? Tylenol? Aspirin? I can see how uncomfortable you are.”

  Dwayne lowered his arm. “Thanks, Danaher, but no. You and your mouse have had enough excitement for one day. It’s late. Tomorrow’s Sunday. I’ve got a great nurse, and I’ll be ship-shape by Monday morning. Why don’t you take off? You have some work to do tomorrow to wrap up the sale on the house for Pete and Rosie.”

  With a sigh, Marla stood. “Are you sure? If you need me to pick up something, or do anything before I leave, tell me now.” When Dwayne rolled his head on the pillow, she lifted Skip off his chest. “I kept your dinner in the oven. It’s probably pretty dried out by now.”

  “No sweat, Danaher. It’ll be a helluva lot better than an MRE.” They glimpsed Amber’s expression when she grumbled. “Sorry, nurse, I’ll get to work cleaning up my language.”

  “You better, or you’ll never ever get to eat ice cream again, Daddy. Rilly.”

  Marla chuckled and hugged Skipper against her sweat-shirted bosom. “Okay then. I’ll see you Monday. I had a good time visiting with you, Amber. So did Skip.”

  “Me too, Marla. I love him.”

  “You take good care of your daddy. I’ll find my way out.”

 

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