Heart of a Marine

by Patricia (Patty) Campbell

  Marla knelt and removed his shoe. He lifted his leg clear of his jeans. Grinning, she pulled off his sock and bit his big toe. He yanked back. “Hey, that’s my good one.”

  She stood and pulled his T-shirt over his head. “Get that contraption off and I’ll find something to rub on it. I’m not your regular nurse, but I can improvise.”

  “Plain old Vaseline will do the trick when all else fails.”

  He removed the equipment and reclined against the pillows. “Got any Tylenol or Advil, honey?”

  “Coming right up.” She returned to the bed with a glass of water and two green capsules. “Hope this helps.”

  “If you took off your clothes it’d be a great distraction.” He winked and swallowed the pills then set the empty glass on the nightstand. She lowered the zipper on her only item of clothing, a long robe. He’d never get enough of the sight of her standing before him without a stitch.

  He nodded at his growing tumescence. “See, it’s working already.” He crooked his finger. “Come here.”

  She held up the tube of petroleum jelly. “Let me take care of your owie first. You’ll be more useful to me if you’re not thinking about it.”

  He reached for the tube. “I’ll do it.”

  Pulling it out of his reach, she shook her head and said, “I want to.” She sat on the side of the bed and lifted his blown-up leg to her lap and gently massaged his inflamed stump.

  Dwayne sighed and lay back. “That feels good, honey.”

  “Let me know when you’ve had enough. I just got an idea of another place where I might apply this stuff to make you feel even better.”

  He sat up and dragged her across his body. “I’ve had enough.” For a woman who’d apparently come late to the game, she made up for lost time, surprising and thrilling him with the depths of her abandonment. “How’d I get so lucky, Danaher?”

  She rolled over in his arms and pushed herself to a sitting position, straddling him. “Funny, Dempsey, I was just wondering the same thing.” She picked up the tube and put a devilish twist on her lips.

  At the breakfast table, Marla told him she wanted to go to the ranch for a week or so in August and how much she was looking forward to seeing Amber again.

  “The little squirt asks about you every time I call her.”

  “Is Kathleen keeping her busy?”

  “Mom said she falls into exhausted sleep every night. Poor old Jarhead too. He hasn’t run so much in years.” He dug into the thick Belgian waffle she’d put in front of him.

  “Jarhead?”

  “Dylan’s old dog. He brought him to the ranch and gave him to me when he went in the Marines.”

  “Holy hail, how old is he?”

  “Fifteen. Amber gave him a new lease on life. Mom said his coat is shiny and he’s put on a couple of pounds.” He shook his head. “I often wonder how many more times I’ll see him. He’s already outlived the profile for the breed.”

  She reached down and scratched Skipper’s ear. “Teacup Chihuahuas can live to be twenty. Skipper’s two. Even with knowing how long he may live, it kills me to think of losing him.”

  Dwayne snapped his fingers. “Come over here, Sergeant Danaher.” Skip scurried to him.

  “Little turncoat,” Marla grumbled.

  While he was making a fuss over her dog, she thought it would be a good time to tell him about her latest encounter with Francine and Luke. “Oh, I almost forgot. Sunday night Francine and Luke showed up on Charlene’s doorstep while I was there.”

  “What!” His voice was so loud Skipper cowered and Marla jerked. “When were you planning to tell me this?” He dropped his fork on the table with a clunk.

  Realizing that there probably wasn’t a good time to tell him, she soldiered on. “I didn’t think it was important. Char called the sheriff and they got there in a couple of minutes. Nothing happened. The deputy told them to get out of town, and they left.” The look on Dwayne’s face terrified her. “They didn’t do anything.”

  He stood so fast he knocked over his chair. “Goddammit! I’m going to kick that sonuvabitch’s ass all the way back to Montana. Hers too!”

  “No, Dwayne! They’ve already left.”

  “I’m gonna make sure.”

  “No. Don’t go, Dwayne. I mean it.”

  He whirled on her. “You mean it? Let’s get something straight, Marla. Stop giving me orders—and stop now!” His jaw muscles twitched, his fists clenched. “Is that clear?”

  She shrank from his glare. Like a chameleon, he’d changed in an instant. Her umbrage built at the tone of his voice. “I’m not ordering you. I’m asking you.”

  “It sounded a helluva lot like an order to me.” He threw his napkin on the table and headed for the door.

  “Dwayne, wait. I didn’t tell you until now because I was afraid you’d fly off the handle. I was afraid you’d do something that might jeopardize your standing in court, if this business with your ex-wife and Amber ever gets that far. You need to calm down.”

  “Another order?” He snatched his leather jacket off the back of a chair and kept right on going.

  “If you leave like this, Dwayne Dempsey, then don’t come back!”

  The door slammed so hard it rattled the dishes in the kitchen cupboards.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The impossible woman! She kept that information from him then ordered him not to do anything about it? He was mad as hell.

  Dwayne drove straight to the motel where that scum had been staying. He scanned the parking lot for their car. It wasn’t there, but that didn’t prove anything. He parked in front of the office and slammed inside.

  The same clerk came to the front desk and stopped. He shook his head. “Did you break something else?” His attempt at a joke shriveled when Dwayne glared. “Something I can do for you, sir?”

  Dwayne put his hands on the counter. “Are those assholes still here?”

  “No sir, they left on Sunday night. Stiffed me on the bill too.”

  He slapped the counter. “Figures.” He turned to leave then changed his mind. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so…”

  “No offense taken, sir.” He backed up. “Have a nice day.”

  Back in his truck, Dwayne fumed with indecision. He pulled out of the lot and drove up and down streets and roads at random looking for Luke’s car until he was satisfied they had gone.

  He phoned his attorney to give him a heads-up. “She didn’t tell me until this morning, otherwise I might have been able to catch them.”

  “And what would you have done then, Mr. Dempsey?”

  The question caught him off guard.

  “I don’t know. I’m just so damn pissed that she didn’t tell me.” He dragged a hand through his hair and pounded his fist on the steering wheel.

  “I think the lady did you a favor.” He paused. “No disrespect, Mr. Dempsey, but I warned you about acting against your own interests in this matter. By this latest incident, they’ve established a police record here showing a pattern of harassment. It may be used to your advantage at some point if necessary, but not if you ruin it by harassing or threatening them back. In the meantime, I suggest you back off and let me do what you’re paying me to do.”

  Dwayne didn’t miss the frustrated tone in the man’s voice. He’d behaved like a fool and he knew it.

  “I’m sorry. I see your point. Ms. Danaher and my daughter are important to me. It makes me nuts something could happen to them while I stand by and do nothing. It was a knee-jerk reaction. I’ll cool it.”

  “Good. I’m presently waiting for a response from Ms. Henry’s attorney regarding her claim of standing. I’ll keep you in the loop.”

  “Thanks.” Dwayne pressed the off button and laid the phone on the passenger seat. He picked it up again with the intention of calling Marla to apologize. He’d call her later and make it up to her somehow. His watch told him he was late on the jobsite.

  Jack and Slim were conferring with the concrete contractor when
he arrived. Jack waved him over. “They’re ready to start with the foundation but didn’t want to go ahead without your final sign-off, Gunny.”

  He greeted the concrete boss with a wave. “Come to the trailer. We’ll take one last look at the foundation plans, then you can get started.”

  After the man was satisfied they were on the same page, Dwayne went outside and got his crew to work. They’d lay all the framing this morning, and the concrete trucks would come to pour the foundation as soon as Cluny and his men placed all the underground pipes.

  The job ticked along right on schedule. He looked at his phone but decided to have a cup of coffee before he called Marla. If he gave her more time to cool off it was less likely they’d have words.

  Jack entered the trailer. “There’s nothing to keep me and Slim here today, boss. We’re going to the construction yard to double check the wall framing materials and make sure those guys we hired will be able to start when we call them.”

  “Okay, I’ll check with you later.” He’d finished his coffee, nobody needed to talk to him. He’d run out of excuses, so he picked up the phone and tapped Marla’s icon.

  It went straight to voicemail. “Crap! Marla, honey? It’s me. I’m sorry about this morning. Call me back.”

  She didn’t call back. He didn’t hear from her all day, and he wasn’t about to leave a bunch of groveling voicemails. He said he was sorry. That should be good enough.

  Marla splashed water in her face. Enough crying over the big jerk! Her frazzled reflection in the mirror startled her. She was so angry and hurt she was tempted to swear. That’s how mad she was. “Damn him!” Great, now she felt worse. Hissing with frustration, she dressed for work.

  She’d spend the day trolling for new listings and follow up the inquiries she’d recently handled. If she put the right customer together with the right property it usually resulted in a sale. A couple more good commission checks would be welcome in her ever-skinnier bank account.

  After lunch she went to the condos to check the progress of the landscape and paving. The parking lot was finished and the spaces clearly striped. She noted with satisfaction the amount of shade her tenants would have under the canopies Dwayne had cleverly designed.

  The landscape supervisor grinned when she parked. “Hola, señora.” He made a sweeping gesture. “She looks good, yes?”

  “It looks fabulous! Nobody would guess this was bare ground a few days ago.”

  “Si, I tole you.”

  “Yes, you did, Jesus. You’re a miracle worker. When did you do all this?” Her gaze swept the landscaped areas with wonder.

  “We bring plants last night. Plant today.”

  “You did all this today? I can’t believe it. When did you start?”

  “This morning, still dark. You like?” His face beamed with pride. “Last of sod going now.”

  “Oh yes.”

  She smiled, remembering how he’d virtually bullied her into giving him the job. As soon as Big D’s trailer pulled into her lot, he’d driven his old truck in and asked to see the owner. When Dwayne told him she wasn’t ready to talk about the landscaping yet, he left, but stopped by at least once a week to sell himself.

  Finally, he browbeat Marla into getting in his truck so he could take her to see some of his other projects. He did creative work. She finally gave in and hired him, even though he’d argued vociferously about her choice of some shrubs and trees.

  He pointed to the flowering red myrtle trees lining the front walkway. “I put your mortal trees over there and my borch trees in front of building.”

  She’d had to fight for those myrtles. Jesus loved birch trees and had fought tooth and nail to put them everywhere. “I think we’re both pleased with the results. It looks just like I pictured it.” She gasped. “Oh, the hydrangeas under the windows are beautiful and they’re in full bloom.” She pressed a hand to her heart and sighed. She’d wanted color and she’d gotten color. “If I’d known you’d be finished so quick I’d have brought you a check.”

  “Is good.” He grinned. “I come back tomorrow to office inside.” He pointed to the building entrance. “I so hoppy you like.”

  Marla unlocked the building and entered a small room off the lobby that served as an office. She hadn’t decided which of the longtime tenants she’d offer the onsite manager job. It would pay little and be mostly symbolic because all the residents would have phone access to her when needed.

  She sat at the utility desk and began calling her tenants to let them know their units were ready, and they could begin moving back whenever they wanted. Then she placed her laptop on the desk and created an ad for the local paper for the condos that were still available to rent.

  Dwayne was never far from her mind. Her hurt feelings warred with her anger over his ultimatum. She wasn’t giving him orders. She’d merely offered a suggestion that was in his best interests, hadn’t she? He’s the one who made a federal case out of it. Well, he could just cool his heels for all she cared. How could she possibly cope with a man with such a hair-trigger temper? She’d had his best interests at heart and he’d shown no appreciation, just anger. They’d be butting heads forever, and she didn’t want all that emotional turmoil in her life.

  Better to break it off now, before she got in too deep.

  “Who am I kidding?”

  Why hadn’t she returned his call? He’d left the message hours ago. Should he call again? Leave another message? Maybe she didn’t get the first one. No. She could stew in her own juices for a while.

  He hit his knee with his fist. “Dempsey, you are a total shithead.”

  What did he expect when he’d hollered at her like a drill sergeant? So she was bossy and controlling, so what? He wasn’t exactly Mr. Rogers in her neighborhood.

  There was the problem. They were both bossy and controlling. How was that going to work? Would they be battling over every minor thing? What she did wasn’t minor by a long shot, but his attorney was right—she’d done him a favor. She knew him pretty well. God, what an ass I am.

  He picked up the phone and got her damned voicemail again. He checked his watch. To hell with it, time to take charge of the mission. Keys in hand, he locked the trailer door, waved good-bye to the framing crew who were nearly finished and climbed in his truck.

  He drove to her house and pulled in the driveway. She usually parked there, so she wasn’t home yet. He waited. About a half hour later, Marla’s car slowed down at her driveway, but instead of pulling in alongside him, she swerved and kept going.

  “Shit!” Dwayne backed out and followed her. She wouldn’t drive around trying to avoid him for long because she’d eventually worry about her mutt and head home. All he had to do was follow her until she gave up the chase. What a soap opera!

  Several minutes later, he pulled up alongside her at a stop sign and angled the truck so she couldn’t move forward. He hopped out and stalked to her car and twirled an unwind gesture with his finger.

  When she sat there stubbornly ignoring him he shouted, “Lower the window, Marla.”

  She stared straight ahead, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.

  “Lower the goddamned window!” His angry voice raised the eyebrows of a man sitting on his front porch. He rose and went inside the house.

  “Do you want to get me arrested? That guy is probably calling the cops right now.” He straightened. Arms akimbo, he looked skyward and rolled his eyes.

  He heard purr of the window sliding down. He leaned forward and saw a tear slide from the corner of her eye. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Please get out of the car.”

  Mute, she shook her head.

  “Please, sweetheart. Don’t make me beg.” He would if he had to, but he sure as hell would rather avoid it.

  “You should be begging me, you colossal jerk!” She reached for the door and unlocked it.

  He pulled it open. “Get out, honey, please.”

  The second her feet hit the pavement he crushed her in his arms. H
ow had he lived so many years without the sensation of her body against his, the brush of his lips on her hair?

  She held herself stiff for a few seconds then slowly melted into him and placed her arms around his waist. Tears pooled in his eyes. What a fool he was to come so close to losing her.

  A black and white Sheriff’s vehicle with lights flashing pulled up behind them. The deputy spoke into his radio, set it on the dash next to the Dash-Cam, and stepped out.

  “What seems to be the problem, folks?” He approached slowly, his hand resting lightly on his holster.

  Dwayne cleared his throat and swiped the heel of his hand across his eyes. “We uh, everything’s fine, officer.” He patted Marla’s back. “Isn’t it, honey?”

  “Ma’am?”

  Marla turned her head to face the officer then rested it on Dwayne’s chest. “Um…we…”

  “Ma’am, I won’t leave until I’m sure you’re all right. Is there anyone else in your car?”

  “No.” She took a shuddering breath. “We, uh, we argued. I’m okay.”

  The deputy stepped forward. “I’ll need to see your I.D. please, both of you.”

  Dwayne reached in his back pocket for his wallet. Marla leaned through her open car door and retrieved her purse from the passenger seat. They found their licenses and handed them over.

  He scanned Marla’s license into a hand-held device and held it out to her. Holding Dwayne’s in his hand he squinted. His forehead wrinkled.

  Dwayne wondered what was so puzzling. “Is there something wrong, officer? Is it expired?”

  “No, sir, but I think you were in my sophomore class. Are you related to Dylan Dempsey?”

  Dwayne smiled with relief. “He’s my big brother.”

  “How come you didn’t come back in junior year?”

  “I moved to Wyoming to live with my mother until I joined the Marines.”

  The deputy grinned, held out his arm and pointed to a USMC fouled-anchor tattoo above the inside of his right wrist. “Semper Fi.”

  Chuckling, the two men bumped fists.