Heart of a Marine

by Patricia (Patty) Campbell

  “Feeling up your leg, Danaher.” He chuckled. “Felt good too, all that feminine softness and heat.”

  She stopped and slammed her hands on her hips. “I asked you not to do that. Did your hearing get damaged in the war too?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact it did, but there’s nothing wrong with my instincts, and I know you enjoyed it.”

  “You’re a bonehead. How and why would I enjoy being touched by somebody who’s always teasing me about my weight?”

  “I have never once teased you about your weight.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Let me make myself clear. You’re. Not. Fat. Your weight is perfect. In fact, I’d love to get my hands on every single sexy ounce of you, Marla Danaher.” He threw up his arms and stalked away.

  Charlene called, “Marla, Donovan and I are leaving.”

  She returned to the table. “We just got here twenty minutes ago. What’s your hurry?”

  “You and Dwayne are at each other’s throats. You’re putting a damper on our good mood, so we’re going to go back to my place and work on improving it.” She picked up their blanket and handed it to Donovan. “We’ll see you later at Mt. Fuji.”

  “What? Mt. Fuji? What are you talking about, Charlene?”

  “Did you already forget that we’re meeting Sil and Dadley there for dinner tonight?” She shook her head and sighed. “Yes, I can see you forgot. Be there by seven.” She took Donovan’s hand. “Come on, honey. Let’s see if we can work up an appetite for dinner.”

  He grinned and definitely would have panted if he’d been a dog. “Oohrah. You don’t have to ask me twice, sweet thing.”

  Marla’s face burned with embarrassment at her sister’s blatant innuendos. They wasted no time getting to Char’s car.

  Great, just great! Now she was stuck here with Dwayne. He was her ride home. Five miles was too far to walk in this heat, poor Skip would expire. Face it, Marla, she told herself. Be the grownup in the room. Forget what he said and what he did. Pretend it never happened.

  But he said he liked her body. He thought she was sexy.

  Dwayne clasped his hands and leaned on the top rail of the fence. He watched Amber and a few other kids gamboling around the large grassy area, playing with dogs of various sizes and breeds. He gritted his teeth and dragged a hand through his hair. He shouldn’t push Marla for more than friendship yet. He had a potentially serious problem to ward off with Francine. The timing with Marla was all wrong.

  Amber ran to him and gripped the fence. “Hi, Daddy. Want to come in and play with us?”

  He put his arm over the top and ruffled her hair. “Not now. Why don’t you come out for a few minutes and chow down on the great-looking sandwich Marla packed for you. She also put ice-cold milk in the cooler. Just the way you like it.”

  “Okay. I’m rill pooped anyhow. Should I get Skipper?”

  “Nah. He’s having fun. Come on, I’ll unlatch the gate for you.” He was about to walk to the gate when she ran off.

  “I can do it.” Of course she could. She was growing up way too fast.

  In seconds she joined him. He threw her in the air and caught her while she squealed and laughed, then he set her on his shoulders and returned to the picnic bench.

  Marla strolled between the rows of lemon trees beyond the table. She looked up and smiled at Amber.

  “Here you go.” Dwayne put the bagged sandwich in front of Amber, opened the milk, and poured some into a paper cup. “Wipe your hands with one of these things.” He tugged a hand wipe from the plastic container Marla had put in with the sandwiches.

  He glanced quickly around the park for any sign of Francine. “You eat all of it now. I need to go talk to Marla for a minute, okay?”

  “Mmm hmm,” she mumbled through a big bite of peanut butter and jelly on thick, squishy white bread.

  “That’s my girl.”

  He ambled to the lemon trees. They’d been planted in Spring Grove generations ago, and hadn’t been harvested since the big Sunkist co-op had closed in the 70’s. He, his brothers, and other boys had played in the abandoned processing plant often, crawling over and under the rusted equipment, playing war, playing power rangers or having a light-saber fight with Darth Vader. Good memories.

  He stopped in front of Marla. “Hey, Danaher.”

  “Hey, Dempsey.”

  “Truce?”

  He held out his hand. She was unpredictable. Would she take it?

  She took it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Marla groaned and shook her head at Dwayne’s haphazard filing. It had been two days since he’d left. It seemed longer. She dug through the stack of invoices. When she couldn’t find the one she wanted, she shuffled them and began to categorize them by material, price, order date, and delivery date.

  The door banged open hard enough to shake the trailer, and a woman marched straight to the table. She slapped a paper on the surface. “Where is he?”

  Marla bolted back in Dwayne’s chair and took a breath to calm her shattered nerves. “Excuse me?”

  “I said where is he?”

  She stared at the woman, took another breath, and laid the invoices down. “Where is who?”

  “Don’t play games with me.”

  Cluny McPherson tromped up the steps and through the open door. “What do you want, Francine?”

  Oh! Now she recognized the petite woman. Dwayne’s ex-wife. Amber’s mother.

  Francine’s face twisted in an ugly scowl as she whirled on Cluny. “Mind your own business, Cluny!”

  “This jobsite is my business. I’m acting supervisor. What do you want here?” He crossed his arms and widened his stance.

  “I’m serving a summons on that sneaky bastard, Dwayne Dempsey.”

  He snorted. “You’re out of luck. He’s not here.”

  “Where is he?”

  Marla’s heart pounded. Glued to her chair with trepidation, she watched their exchange. Cluny knew Dwayne’s ex-wife. He also had a hair-trigger temper, and Marla crossed her fingers in her lap, hoping their confrontation wouldn’t get ugly. She had no idea what to do.

  Cluny scowled. “He’s out of town. He took his daughter to Florida for a Disney Cruise vacation. He won’t be back here for a couple of weeks, so take your summons and clear out.”

  “You mean my daughter.” Francine crossed her arms and looked daggers at Cluny. The woman wasn’t going anywhere.

  He shook his head and sneered. “Your daughter? That’s a laugh. Where do you get the nerve to show up after all these years and demand access to ‘the kid’ you deserted six years ago? You always were a nasty piece of work.” His deep disgust hung in the air like a thick fog.

  “Dempsey’s not her father. My husband and I are suing for custody.” She grabbed the summons and shook it under his nose.

  “Your husband?” Cluny rolled his eyes. “He must be a real prize.”

  “Don’t give me any lip, you raggedy-ass Irishman. I married Luke Henry, the girl’s biological father. He’s in the car waiting for me.”

  Cluny snorted. “You married that skinny snot jailbird? It figures.”

  “Luke served his time. And for your information, he was framed. I’ve been waiting for him to get out of Montana State Prison so we could come and claim our kid.”

  Marla’s head buzzed. How could this appalling woman be Amber’s mother? She’d come, with no thought for the child, armed with legal documents, threatening to take Amber away from the only loving parent she’d ever known. Cluny’s quick-thinking lie, that they were on a cruise, should buy them time. If only he could get her to leave.

  To Marla’s horror, Cluny gave Francine a little shove. “Your kid? What kind of mother are you? You don’t even know her name.” Cluny huffed his disgust and pointed to the door. “You need to get out. This is private property, and the person you’re looking for is not here.”

  “You’re a goddamn liar, Cluny!” Francine jammed the summons into her purse. “When I come back I’ll have the U
.S. Marshall with me.”

  Marla’s alarm increased at Cluny’s clenched fists and the growing redness in his face. Afraid he would lose it she stood and cleared her throat. “Um, he’s telling the truth. Mr. Dempsey isn’t here. He’s out of the state.”

  “Look, Miss Secretary, or whoever the hell you are, sit down and shut up. This doesn’t concern you.”

  Shocked at the woman’s crudeness, Marla shouted, “No, lady, you look here!” She startled herself with her angry reaction. “I’m no secretary. I own this property, and you are trespassing. I suggest you leave now before I call the county sheriff and press charges against you.”

  Francine shoved Cluny in the chest to clear a path to the door. He staggered back and raised his arm.

  “Cluny!” Marla grabbed the back of his shirt. “Don’t give this disgusting person any reason to come back here.” To her grateful surprise, he lowered his arm and gulped a big breath. Francine slammed out the door, leaving both of them temporarily mute.

  Marla sat in Dwayne’s chair before her knees gave out. She hated ugly confrontations. Head spinning, she waved her hand. “Cluny, sit down. What should we do? We have to do something.”

  He reached in his pocket and removed his phone.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “I’d call Gunny, but cell phones don’t work worth a crap in Wyoming. I’ll call Kathleen Burwell, his mom. He should be there later today.” He waited. “Kate? This is Cluny McPherson. I’m fine, ma’am, and you?” He nodded and ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Look, ma’am, I need to give Dwayne a heads-up about a situation here. No, no accidents. Everybody’s good. It’s a legal matter. Okay, have him call me on my cell no matter what time he gets there. Thanks.” He clicked off, set the phone and his elbows on the table, and lowered his head in his hands.

  “You okay?” She thought she should pat his shoulder or something, but she didn’t know the man that well, didn’t know how he’d take it.

  “Yeah, thanks to you.” He raised his head and held up a fist, his thumb and forefinger a fraction apart. “I was this close to picking her up by her scrawny neck and tossing her boney ass out the door.” He blew a breath between tight lips. “Close, too close.”

  She didn’t disagree. “How did he ever get mixed up with that hard-looking psycho shrew?” It wasn’t really any of her business, but she knew Dwayne better now. He was a steady man and good father. She couldn’t imagine him ever being attracted to a hellcat like Francine Henry.

  “Time hasn’t done her any favors. She’s changed a lot, used to be a cute and sassy party-hearty cowgirl. Dwayne met her when we were home in Wyoming, on leave from our first tour of duty in Iraq. He fell like a lead weight, and she got her hooks into a big tough Marine. They ran off to City Hall in Sheridan and got married. I tried to talk him out of it, told him he could get her in the sack without a wedding ring, but he wouldn’t listen to me, to his mom, to anyone.”

  Marla reached for the water thermos, poured a cup, and handed it to Cluny.

  “Thanks.” He took it with trembling fingers.

  She poured a cup for herself then sat in the swivel chair to face the door again. “This entire episode is upsetting. Why do you suppose she showed up after all these years?”

  Cluny shrugged. “She’s up to something.”

  “You think she wants money?”

  “She’s out of her freakin’ mind if that’s what she’s after. Gunny doesn’t have any money. Anything he has is tied up in Big D Construction.”

  This was a revelation. Cluny apparently didn’t know Dwayne owned all that prime ranch land. Why would he have told her and not Cluny, his closest friend? She had a sneaking suspicion Francine somehow knew.

  Marla had to talk to Dwayne.

  “I don’t know anything about his finances, Cluny. I’m grasping at straws. Wondering what she’s all about. If he calls before we close shop today, would you tell him I need to talk to him?” She tapped her fingers on the invoices. Cluny didn’t need to know the real reason she wanted to speak to Dwayne.

  He gave her a Dwayne’s-got-more-important-problems frown. “Yeah, sure. I gotta get back to work.”

  Dwayne slowed to a crawl to keep the truck from shaking apart on the last mile to the ranch after they passed through the arches sporting the rustic sign, Big D Cattle-Horses-Dogs. He’d see to getting some of these potholes filled with fresh gravel before he left.

  “Are we there yet?”

  “Almost.” Dwayne grinned and ruffled Amber’s hair. “See that big line of cottonwoods up ahead?”

  She sat as far forward as she could, straining against the seat belt, and pointed. “There?”

  “Yep. Soon as we get past those tall trees, you’ll be able to see over the rise to the ranch house.”

  “Cows!” Amber bounced with excitement and pointed out the side window. “Look Miss Emmaline, cows!”

  Dwayne and Emmaline laughed at the child’s excitement. The fatigue of the tedious drive from California faded the closer he got to his teenage home.

  “Daddy? Do you think Grammakat will remember me?”

  “Of course, squirt. It’s only been a year since you were here. She can’t wait to see you.” He glanced to the backseat. “How you doin’ back there, Miss Emmaline?”

  “Don’t you worry about me, youngster. The closer we get to that ranch house the younger I feel. The air here is bracing.”

  “Yes, it’s still early enough in the year so it cools off fast when the sun goes down.” He pointed ahead. “There’s still snow on the Bighorn Mountains.”

  “There’s always snow up there,” Amber said.

  “You’re right. Some of what looks like snow is glaciers. They never melt.” He grinned. “There’s the house.” He leaned on the horn to alert his mother. He took the circular drive to the front of the weathered ranch building.

  The screen door flew open and Kathleen, followed by an ambling, old golden Lab, stepped onto the long, covered wooden porch.

  “Jarhead!” Amber bounced and pointed. “Look, it’s Jarhead. He remembers me.”

  Dwayne doubted Jarhead, a boyhood pet, remembered much of anything and was half blind to boot, but why spoil her childish fantasy? “Of course he remembers you. Go give Grammakat a big hug. She’s waited a whole year to see you.”

  Amber opened the door, jumped down from the truck, then ran pell-mell to throw herself into the welcoming arms of his mother. He opened the back door to lift Miss Emmaline down, in spite of her grumbling protests.

  “I can get out of this vehicle without your assistance, I’ll have you know.” She thrust the cat carrier into his hands. “Here, if you want to do something helpful, take Princess Elizabeth. I’ll manage on my own.”

  Dwayne took the cat and stepped back to give the stubborn old woman room to maneuver herself out of the truck.

  Kathleen approached them. “Emma! I’m so glad to see you. Come in everybody. Leave your things. I’ll have Arturo fetch the bags when he gets in from the barn. We’re just putting dinner on the table.”

  Amber knelt on the porch and let Jarhead cover her with sloppy dog kisses, his tail whipping at warp speed. His old dog’s tongue was as big as Marla’s mutt. Looks like the ancient Lab remembers her after all.

  Dwayne gave his mother a crushing hug. “Mom, you get more beautiful every year. How do you do it?”

  “Working from sunrise to sundown, I imagine. It’s good to see you, son. How are your brothers?”

  “They’re great. Dylan and his family are coming up this summer. I saw Donovan this past weekend while he was on leave. He’s presently languishing in the arms of a beautiful woman, so he’s a happy man, but he did say he would get up to see you when he gets his next leave.”

  “A woman? Really?” She smiled and cocked her head. “Anyone I know?”

  “Do you remember Brad Danaher’s daughter, Charlene? When you left California she was probably only twelve or thirteen.”

  “I do remember her a
nd her twin sister, Marla. I always thought Marla would be a stunning woman when she matured.”

  Dwayne winked and grinned. “You were right, they’re both beautiful, but Marla is hot, hot, hot!”

  “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “I wish.” He hugged her close.

  She patted his shoulders and pushed back. “Let’s get Emma and Amber some dinner first, then you and I need to speak privately before we turn in tonight.” She took his arm. “Come on, Cookie will skin me if she has to wait much longer to see you. She’s been cooking all day, everything you like. Go to the kitchen and spend some time with her, but first, use my house phone to call Cluny. He called a couple of hours ago, said it was important.”

  Dwayne and his mom sat bundled in heavy jackets on the porch after eleven that night. The ranch house sprawled dark and quiet around them like a soft blanket. They sipped hot cocoa and stared at the billions of stars above the Bighorn Mountains.

  Dwayne tapped the arm of his chair. “Francine showing up in Spring Grove totally blindsided me. Fortunately there were about eight kids at Brad Danaher’s birthday party. She didn’t know which one of the girls was Amber. I hustled her out of there before she made a scene. After getting rid of her, I felt the only option was to get Amber as far away from her as possible.”

  “Did Amber know Francine was there?”

  “She saw me escort a woman out, but Dad stepped in and distracted her with birthday cake. Later she asked me who it was, and I sidestepped with a vague answer. She seems to have forgotten in the excitement of coming to the ranch.”

  “What do you plan to do?”

  He sighed and took a moment to answer. “I’m not sure. I’m struggling with whether or not I should allow Francine to see her. Would Amber hate me if she found out years from now that I’d prevented her from meeting the mother she’s got some childhood fantasy about being a mysterious fairy princess?” His stomach knotted with indecision.