Heart of a Marine

by Patricia (Patty) Campbell

  Arturo inspected a couple of broken posts. “I can fix this if y’all want to see where the heifers run off to.”

  Dylan unloaded the rest of his tools. “Go on. I’ll help Arturo. Keep an eye out for anybody who looks like he doesn’t belong. Len told me he saw a light in the old trapper’s cabin on Wolf Creek the other night. It was too late to investigate, but we’ll ride over there tomorrow and have a look.”

  Dwayne and Donovan touched the brim of their hats and rode through the fence break to search for the cows.

  It took a few hours to round up the escape artists, but they found all of them. They drove them slowly back to the fence line and urged them through the small break Dylan and Arturo had left open. “Looks like you’re about done with it,” Dwayne remarked.

  Dylan straightened his back and wiped his face with a bandanna. “Yep, just waiting for you and the cows.”

  Arturo and Dwayne piled up the debris and packed the tools while Donovan and Dylan secured the last of the wire to the posts, then they mounted and headed at a leisurely pace back to the ranch house, their heavy jackets tied to the saddles.

  Dwayne rolled his shoulders in the warm sun. He loved this ranch with every fiber of his body and soul, but he couldn’t see himself living here full time. He thought perhaps he’d change his mind years down the road when their mother could no longer handle it alone.

  They dismounted at the barn and unsaddled the horses. Bart led their mounts inside where he’d finish taking care of them after the long day on the range. “I got ’em. Go ahead to the house and drink some of Cookie’s lemonade.”

  Jarhead lay sprawled in the sunlight on the porch steps, snoring in the last of the afternoon warmth. Dwayne bypassed the kitchen and headed up the stairs to use his bathroom and wash up. He hadn’t seen Marla or Amber in or around the house. He entered the empty bedroom, shrugged at not finding either of them there, and then removed clean jeans and a shirt from the closet.

  He finished quickly and went downstairs, entered the kitchen, and gave his mom a hug when she poured him a big glass of lemonade. “Where’re my two girls?”

  “They took Skipper for a hike in the south meadow. Amber wanted to show Marla the last of the summer’s Indian Paintbrush blooming out there.”

  “How long have they been gone?”

  “About two hours.”

  “My God, we’ll be picking ticks out of that mouse’s hide all evening.” He finished his lemonade, set the glass down, and stood. “I’ll walk down the road and meet them.”

  “Help!” Marla’s frantic screams alerted everyone within hearing range. “Help me! Somebody, help!”

  Dwayne and his mother charged out the door as men ran from the barn and corral.

  Marla collapsed on her knees at the bottom of the steps, sobbing, hugging Skipper to her chest. “They…they…took…” she gasped.

  Dwayne bellowed, “Where’s Amber? Is she hurt? Where is she?” A horrible feeling of dread filled his chest, paralyzing him. His daughter, his little girl.

  Kathleen rushed to the bottom of the steps and helped Marla to her feet. “Sit here, honey. Tell us what happened.” Marla slumped down on the top step, still hugging her baby. He hadn’t moved.

  Dwayne grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Where’s Amber! Was she hurt?”

  She looked at him with stricken, devastated eyes. He’d seen this look on soldiers in battle when someone got killed. His gut twisted and he gulped air, afraid to hear her answer.

  “Francine…on horseback…they took her.”

  He screamed in her face. “You let them take her?”

  Charlene rushed to Marla’s side and shoved Dwayne out of the way then sat next to her. “Are you okay, sis? What happened? Are you hurt?” She touched the knees of Marla’s torn and bloody jeans.

  Dwayne grabbed fistfuls of his hair and paced in a circle. He stooped to look at Marla’s face and said, “You let them take her?”

  She shook her head. “No, I, I couldn’t stop them. I tried. Skip chased after them. One of the horses kicked him. He…he…won’t wake up.” Her body wracked with sobs. “I’m sorry, Dwayne, I couldn’t—”

  Charlene brushed her hand on Marla’s hair. “It’s all right, sis. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not your fault.”

  “Like hell it’s not her fault! She let them take my daughter, and now she’s crying over a goddamned dog? Where in hell are your priorities, Charlene?”

  Before he saw it coming, Donovan’s open hand slammed into his chest and shoved him against the rail post. “Listen up, bro, because I’m only going to say this one time. You ever speak to my wife or her sister in that tone of voice again, so help me God, I’ll…”

  He threw Donovan’s hand away and leaned into him. “You’ll do what?”

  Dylan shoved between them. “Enough, you assholes! Get to the barn and saddle up. We’re going to get Amber back. What the hell’s wrong with you two?” He glared, daring either of his younger brothers to defy him.

  Kathleen stood next to Dylan. “He’s right. You shut your mouth, Dwayne Dempsey. Now, let’s go!”

  He turned to his mother. “You’re not going.”

  “You and who else is going to stop me?” She scoffed and turned her back on him. “Bart you and Len saddle up too. Cookie, call the sheriff and tell him we’re heading out to the abandoned trapper’s cabin on Wolf Krik.”

  She shoved Dwayne who continued to glare at his brothers. “Get moving. Francine will not hurt her daughter.” She shouted loud enough for everyone to hear her, “No guns!”

  “To hell with that!” Donovan shouted.

  “No, she’s right.” Dwayne grabbed Donovan’s sleeve and pulled him toward the barn. “I don’t want any gunplay endangering my daughter.”

  Miss Emmaline put her hand on Marla’s shoulder. “Let me take a look at your doggie.”

  Marla shook her head. More wracking sobs choked from her throat. “No, he’s…he’s…” She buried her face in his lifeless, still-warm body and cried like it was the end of the world.

  Charlene held her and rocked her. “Oh, sis, I’m so sorry. The poor little guy.” She squeezed her shoulder. “Dwayne didn’t mean those awful things he said. He was terrified for his little girl, that’s all.”

  Marla sobbed against Skipper’s side. “You were so brave. I love you so much.” She leaned against Charlene, raised her head, and smeared her eyes with the heel of her hand. “He meant what he said. He…he didn’t even ask if I was hurt.” The ice pick stabbing her heart, shattering it piece by piece, wouldn’t stop. She’d never felt such pain and devastation.

  Miss Emmaline gently lifted Skipper’s body from her lap. “Let me take him, dear. I’ll take good care of him.” A huge, bottomless black pit opened in her chest when Emmaline took Skipper away.

  Charlene pulled Marla to her feet. “Let’s go upstairs and lie down. You need to rest.”

  Marla clenched her jaw. “I need to go home. I’m leaving. I can’t bear to face him again.” “I need to go home. I’ll write down everything that happened for the sheriff’s report, then I’m leaving. I can’t bear to face him again.”

  “But, sis, how—?”

  Miss Emmaline said, “She’s right. I know Dwayne. There’s no reasoning with him when he’s like this. He’s apt to say something even more unforgivable before the night is out.”

  She held Skipper to her chest and nodded to Charlene. “You drive us to the airport in Sheridan. I’ll pack my things and get Princess Elizabeth. I’ll go home with her.”

  Marla’s eyes streamed tears. “Oh, Miss Emmaline, you don’t need—”

  “Hush, child. It’s settled. Go upstairs and pack your things. Charlene will drive us in Donovan’s car. If we can’t get a flight out tonight, we’ll check into a motel and leave in the morning. I’ll leave a note for Kathleen, telling her we’ll call when we get there to make sure Amber’s home okay. Those men will bring her back no worse for wear. You can be sure of that.” She cast a sa
d and loving gaze at both sisters and kissed Marla’s cheek. “Off with you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The six men and Kathleen stood quiet at the edge of the woods, their horses tied behind the trees. Dwayne stepped out. Kathleen grabbed his arm and hissed, “Listen to me! You need to get your head straight. What are you planning to do? Charge in there like Special Forces?” She put her hand on his chest. “Let Dylan finish.”

  His stomach knotted and his ears rang. His mother was right. They had to give Dyl time to do a thorough recon of the cabin and surrounding woods with his binoculars before proceeding. He knew better, but he’d never been so worried and frantic in his life. This was worse than any firefight he’d ever been in. His baby, he had to find his baby, and bring her home.

  Dylan spoke softly. “It’s quiet. The three of them are eating supper, looks like. Amber appears unhurt; she’s talking to Francine.”

  Dwayne gasped with relief. “Thank God.”

  Dylan and Donovan stood in front of him. Donovan said, “We’re going to run this operation. If you can’t follow orders then stay here with Mom. Are we clear?”

  Tears of relief filled Dwayne’s eyes. He nodded and choked out the word, “Clear.”

  “Good.” Dylan pointed. “Spread out to the right with Donovan, and Bart, Len, Arturo, and I will go to the left. Keep your eyes on me. Don’t make a move until you see my signal to advance on the cabin. Ready?” The men nodded. “Mom, you keep those horses ready. This shouldn’t take long.”

  Kathleen nodded and stepped back as the men began to creep forward. “I’ll watch you with the binoculars.”

  Dwayne joined Bart and Donovan moving to the right, several paces apart, they followed his little brother’s lead. Donovan glanced frequently in Dylan’s direction, watching for his hand signals. One of them stepped on a dry branch. It cracked loud underfoot. They stood dead still and waited.

  Dwayne was close enough now to see through the dirty window. An old Coleman lantern hung from a hook over the table. Amber spooned food into her mouth and nodded at something Francine said. She was okay, his baby girl was okay.

  Dylan made the signal to go in through the doors on both sides of the dilapidated log cabin. They’d enter simultaneously, assuming they weren’t barred or locked. Dyl raised his hand. They stopped while he whispered something to Len, and then Len ran, crouched, to Donovan.

  Donovan nodded and Len returned to his position. He whispered to Dwayne and Bart, “Dylan is going to wait at the door on his side until we knock on this door, then he’ll enter as soon as we’re in.”

  “Assuming they open it,” Dwayne said in a hoarse whisper.

  They crept to the door and waited half a minute. Donovan nodded for Dwayne to knock. He raised his arm and pounded twice with his fist. Loud scrambling and excited voices emanated from inside. “Who’s there?” Luke yelled.

  “Dwayne Dempsey. I’m here to get my daughter.”

  Amber screamed, “It’s my Daddy.”

  When the door didn’t open immediately, Donovan kicked it down at the same time Dylan and his men busted in from the other side.

  Dwayne shouted, “Amber, get under the table,” just as Dylan grabbed Francine from behind and dragged her, arms flailing, foul language spewing from her mouth.

  Donovan slammed Luke face down on the floor, his heavy-booted foot planted hard on his neck. “You’re on your way back to the slammer, moron. If I shoved your brain up a gnat’s ass it would rattle around like a BB in a boxcar.”

  Dwayne barely heard him. His knee screaming with pain, he reached the rustic table and dragged Amber into his arms. “You’re fine, Daddy’s here.” He hugged her to his chest, heart threatening to explode through his ribs.

  “I told them you’d save me, Daddy.” She clung to his neck. Her sweet little-girl scent a gift from heaven.

  Tears slipped from his eyes as he rocked her side to side. “Did they hurt you?” he whispered.

  “No, but they hurt Marla.” Her breath stuttered against his neck.

  Marla! Oh, Jesus, the filthy accusations he’d thrown at her—the woman he loved. What had he done? He shifted Amber back and looked into her eyes. “What did they do to her?” His stomach clenched as an icy blast of guilt froze his chest.

  Amber pointed at Luke. “That bad man hit her and dragged her in the dirt. He told her he was my rill dad. He’s mean.” She turned her head in Francine’s direction. “The lady who talks bad told him he better not hurt me, but I still don’t like her.”

  “Nobody move!” Sheriff’s deputies rushed in both doors, Kathleen behind them. Dwayne saw her eyes sweep the room to make sure her sons were not hurt, then she went to Dwayne’s side and hugged Amber. “Are you okay, baby girl?”

  “I’m okay. I wasn’t a’scared of them because I knew Daddy would come and get me.”

  Dwayne suppressed a smile when Amber scowled furiously at Francine. “Go away! I don’t like you! I want Marla for my mother.” She pulled away from her father and stood, hands on her hips, chin thrust forward. “I told you my rill Daddy would come and get me away from you.”

  Francine struggled in Dylan’s hard arm around her waist. She began to yell, and he slapped a big hand over her mouth. “Shut up, Francine, before you pound a few more nails in your coffin.” He released her when a deputy approached, handcuffs at the ready.

  The sheriff approached Kathleen. “You folks go on home now. I’ll come to the ranch and get your statements tonight.” Dwayne didn’t miss the man’s hand brush across his mother’s shoulder and the softness of his expression when he gazed at her.

  “Thanks, Harmon,” Kathleen said. She smiled at the six men who’d rescued her granddaughter. “Let’s head home, boys.”

  The slow ride home took two hours. The house lights burned bright and could be seen from a mile away. Dwayne hugged Amber close during the long trek and brushed his lips on her hair countless times. “You good, squirt?”

  “Daddy, I heard Skipper crying when we rode away. Did he get hurt when he chased the horses?”

  He swallowed at the memory of Marla’s sobs for her tiny dog. What a bastard he was to yell at her when she was afraid for Amber and devastated over the little guy. He prayed she’d forgive him. He had a lot of apologizing to do for what he’d said. His heart squeezed into a hard, cold knot.

  God, Marla, honey, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.

  “Did you hear me, Daddy?”

  He cleared his throat. “Yes, sweetheart, the brave little soldier got hurt when he tried to save you.”

  “Will he be all right?” Her trembling voice asked, full of worry and hope.

  “I don’t think so. He was hurt pretty bad.”

  Her little body jerked with a monster, choking sob. She fell forward against his arm and cried, breaking his heart. She loved the wee mutt. What would she do when they got home and learned he was dead? He dreaded every step his horse took closer to the ranch house.

  Grace waited on the porch, a sweater clutched tightly around her shoulders. Cookie whistled and a couple of wranglers stepped out of the barn when the men reined in the horses.

  Grace stepped to Dwayne and Amber and extended her arms. “Come to Auntie Gracie, baby.” She held her and hugged her, relief painting her face. “Let’s go in the kitchen and get warm. Cookie has cornbread and a big pot of hot cocoa on the stove.”

  Dwayne dismounted, wincing when a sharp pain shot fire through his stump. He limped to the porch and immediately headed up the stairs to find Marla.

  “Dwayne,” Grace called and handed Amber off to Cookie. She pressed her lips together and shook her head.

  “I have to talk to her.” He couldn’t put off making amends. He loved her and she needed to hear his apology. He needed to offer it.

  Dylan and Donovan walked in.

  “She’s not here,” Grace said.

  “Where is she? Is she hurt? I have to see her.”

  “Charlene drove her and Miss Emmaline to Sheridan to ge
t a flight back to L.A.”

  Donovan sucked in a loud breath. “Charlene left?” He faced Dwayne and glared. “What in hell have you done? I should kick the shit out of you.”

  Grace put her hand on Donovan’s arm. “Your wife will be back tomorrow. Marla and Emma couldn’t get a flight out tonight. They’re staying overnight at the Day’s Inn near the airport.” She linked her hand in his arm and steered him toward the phone. “Call her and let her know everybody is home safe then let’s get you something to eat.”

  The scene had played out in sickening slow motion for Dwayne. He turned and sat on the stairs with a thump and dropped his head in his hands. “Jesus, God, what have I done?” He rolled his head in his hands.

  Dyl sat next to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t speak for several seconds then said, “Everything will look better in the morning. Come to the kitchen and sit down to eat with your daughter. Don’t let her see you like this.” He clapped him on the shoulder. “Suck it up, brother.”

  Numb, Dwayne followed his big brother to the kitchen. He arrived in time to hear Amber’s blow-by-blow of her afternoon for the others at the table while Cookie bustled in front of the stove. For the moment, at least, she seemed to have forgotten about Skipper. He slid onto the bench next to her and kissed her head.

  A few minutes into her recitation, Kathleen entered the kitchen and lifted the big, stainless steel coffeepot off the stove. “I’ll take this out to the men in the barn, Cookie.”

  Cookie nodded and said, “I’ll get the other one going pronto. You come right back and eat some supper. Those cowboys can look after themselves.” She turned and set a big plate of steaming cornbread on the table next to a crock of home-churned butter.

  Dwayne’s stomach rebelled at the thought of food. He shifted and rubbed his knee. His vision blurred with unshed tears. Marla had left him. His fault. There was no excuse for the way he’d treated her. His mind flooded with self-hatred.

  All he wanted to do was drag his tired bones and aching leg up the stairs and fall in bed, but he wouldn’t leave somebody else break the news to Amber about Skipper. No. He wasn’t that much of a coward. He stroked Amber’s hair and listened to her chatter away.