21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales (104 page)

It always started out the same. The old Indian would appear behind Greg wherever he worked, as though an illusion conjured from the air itself. He’d offer an enigmatic greeting and clap Greg’s shoulder before beginning his hike. He didn’t plan to follow him, but after meeting his granddaughter—and witnessing the heat of her temper—he appreciated why the old man ‘took off’ on his little jaunts.

“Save it. We get these posts set today. We can finish the bunkhouse tomorrow. We’ll get rain this weekend. Save the interior stuff for that.” They worked at opposite corners, using posthole diggers to clear the way for the next set of posts.

“We’ll see.” Greg nodded.

“How is Old Man Crane? Georgia was worried about him the other day.” Apparently today A.J. had something to say.

“He’s fine.” He kept his comments about the harridan of a granddaughter to himself. A woman that beautiful shouldn’t be so hostile. But even thinking about Georgia sent a dark thrill through him. She’d be a wildcat in bed, a hellion, and it would take a strong man to tame her—hostility had never seemed so sexy.

“Don’t let him overdo it. I know he likes to roam, everyone does, but Georgia worries.”

“She could be a little kinder to him. He’s a grown man, not an irresponsible child.” It came out a lot harsher than he intended, but her dismissal stung. She’d berated her elder as though he were a hooligan out vandalizing property rather than a man out for a walk.

“Sure, but you don’t know the whole story.” A.J. finished his hole and retrieved a bottle of water from a cooler they kept stocked. He tossed one to Greg and opened the second one to drink. “Old Man Crane had a couple of back-to-back heart attacks last year. The first one wasn’t too bad, and they did surgery and corrected the issue. Seemed pretty straightforward. The second one hit him the day she took him home. They nearly didn’t get him to the hospital on time, and he took months to recover.”

Greg took a long drink. He understood months in a hospital bed and difficult recovery. It made the older man’s choices clearer, more sensible. “He seems to be recovering well.”

“He is, but he doesn’t follow medical instructions. When Georgia took him home that day, she did it because he’d insisted. He checked himself out against medical advice. She didn’t find out that part until after the second attack.” A.J. tossed the empty bottle into the bucket they used to gather their trash while they worked.

The explanation made her over-the-top response to a walk clearer and more sensible. “I’ll keep an eye on him.” He liked Crane. Like A.J., the man didn’t say much, but Greg found value in every nugget he shared.

“I appreciate it. Now give me a hand with this one….”

Conversation over, they spent the next two hours getting the last posts into place. Fortunately, the next three stood as erect as the first one they’d sunk. A.J. packed away the tools and headed to the house, leaving Greg alone to wait for Crane.

Sure enough, the old man walked up the long drive toward the ranch house. Greg could ask him about his granddaughter and if she knew where he was, or he could leave it be. Crane didn’t behave senile.

“You look like you swallowed a toad.” The old man leaned on a walking stick and studied Greg.

“Wondering if you told your granddaughter you were off for a walk.” And if she’d be coming to fetch him again. Maybe he could apologize for his contribution to her frustration.

“It’s possible.” Crane nodded toward the woods. “Shall we go see what the wind has to say today?”

***

Georgia glared at the woods. She’d seen her grandfather shuffle off with his new best friend and wondered if she should follow after him or not. When he proved recalcitrant to obey doctor’s orders on any level, she’d decided to follow him. Every day he walked out to the ranch and met up with the gorgeous Greg Rainwater. Sheri had filled her in on A.J.’s addition to the ranch over coffee at the café.

Well, she filled in Bea at the café, and Georgia eavesdropped shamelessly from one table away. Rainwater had been hurt in Afghanistan or Iraq—Sheri hadn’t been sure which and didn’t want to press A.J. for details—and he’d recovered in Texas for months. When discharged, A.J. offered him a place to stay and to work. Apparently, A.J. planned to bring in a few more retired or recovering Marines. That got the entire café chattering.
Is he going to open a facility like the one Sheri described in Texas? Would he close his ranch? Where would they put them all?

Lots of questions and even more offers to help. Freewill might not be overly fond of strangers or big city folk who wanted to change them, but since one of their golden sons had put forth the idea, they’d already suggested taking it to the Mayor and town council.

Exasperation warred with concern and Georgia adjusted her hiking boots. At least she’d dressed for walking this time. She hadn’t followed them before, not when they went together. Trusting the Marine to make sure her grandfather made it out to the ranch wasn’t difficult, but what were they doing out there?

Why every day? What can he talk to this guy about that he can’t with me?
And why did it have to be such a long and arduous walk for her grandfather? If he asked, she could drive him out there. Or take him for a walk herself.

Shutting the car off and jerking her keys out of the ignition, she wasn’t ready when A.J. thumped the top of her car and peered at her through the open driver’s window. “Hey, Cricket.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs and she barely swallowed her scream. Closing her eyes, she tried to force slow, steady breaths, but adrenaline fueled her erratic pulse.

“Hey, A.J.” The words came out a hell of a lot weaker than she intended.

“Your grandfather went for a walk with Greg. You want some coffee while you wait?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I was….”
I’m what? About to follow my grandfather and his friend through the woods to spy on them? Yeah, that sounds mature
. “I thought I’d leave a note.”
Will he buy that feeble lie?

“I’ll do it. What did you want to tell him?” All earnest cowboy, he squatted down and tipped his hat back to look at her.

“To give me a call when he’s ready to go home. I’ll come by, pick him up.”
Yep
. Still came out feeble and weak-minded. She sighed. “A.J., what are they doing?”

He grinned. “They’re talking, Cricket. About…whatever it is that they want to talk about.”

“But why does he keep doing this? He knows how sick he’s been. He keeps this up and he risks another heart attack, or worse, and your place is hell and gone from the hospital. If he collapses in the woods….”

“Hey.” A.J. covered her hand with his. “I get it, but Greg’s a solid guy. If anything happens, he’ll bring your grandfather in, trust me. That’s part of the reason he goes with him, so he has some company. You can’t pen a man up and expect him to still feel like a man.”

“I’m not trying to pen him up, I’m protecting him….” She clenched her hands on the steering wheel. “He’s my grandfather.” His heart attacks scared the hell out of her.

“Then let him be. You live with him. You check his medicine. You see him every night and every morning, but he’s a man, Georgia. He raised you. He raised your daddy. You think he wants you looking after him like he’s the kid?”

She couldn’t fault the honest assessment. From anyone else she might have resented it, but A.J. had been her first crush so many years ago. She used to think he hung the moon and the stars. When he’d dated her sister, Georgia would sneak out the window onto the roof every night to see if he kissed her goodnight after bringing her home. In some ways, she wished she was still a twelve-year-old, daydreaming about her first kiss and picturing the cowboy at the window.

“You think I’m overprotective, too.” Letting go of the steering wheel, she leaned her head against the seat. “Maybe I am, but he’s all I have left, y’know?”

“Yeah, I do. But you have friends and a life. He wants to live his and maybe if you live yours some…it will help you both. I’ll keep an eye on him, too. Everyone does—you have to know that. Everyone wants to help. You just have to let them, Cricket.”

“Ugh, could you please forget that nickname?” She groaned and scrubbed a hand over her face. In two syllables, he stripped away the last fifteen years and she was a pimply-faced teen again, eager for his approval.

“Nah, I like it. It suited you, or it did. Don’t you remember being a happy little thing? Cheerful and chatty? What happened to that Georgia?” Real concern reflected in his eyes.

“She grew up, found out life is a bitch, and spends most of her time fighting with an old man to keep him around. It’s hard to be cheerful and chatty when you’re doing that.”
Wow, bitter much?
She hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but it came out that way. “And why the hell am I telling you all this?”

“’Cause you think I’m cute.” He tapped a finger to her chin. “Buck up. Go have some fun. Anytime you need us to pick him up or make sure he gets home, we’ll do it.”

“You know, my sister is stupid.” Georgia never understood why Risa dumped A.J. right after high school, but she’d planned to head to a big school back East and said A.J. was a small-town guy with small-town dreams.

“She wanted different things, Cricket. We had no illusions about each other. Besides, I have Sheri now.” He patted her car. “Now git gone, and have some fun. Go buy yourself something. I hear all the ladies like to do that.” He strolled away and she whistled to get his attention.

“A.J.? It’s good to have you home.” And she meant it.

“Good to be home.” He touched the brim of his hat and went on about his business.

Starting the car, Georgia reversed onto the two-lane road and turned toward Freewill. Maybe she
would
go find something to do.

Her conscience twinged, worry for her grandfather so second nature she didn’t know how to
not
be concerned. Double-checking her cell phone, she made sure the ringer was on. She didn’t want to miss the call to pick him up. Still, with the empty time in front of her, what fun could she have?
Maybe the library has a book or three on how to have fun
.

***

“She worries about you.” Greg watched her car pull away with regret. She’d talked to A.J. and then left. He’d wanted another glimpse of the fire in her scornful eyes.

“She needs to live.” Crane turned and started walking again. “Neither of us died and she needs to stop acting like we did.”

Together, they walked for an hour until Crane found another spot to look at the uninterrupted view of the valley and the mountains beyond. Even in summer, white dusted the distant peaks. Settling against a sun-warmed rock, Greg closed his eyes and breathed in the air, as far from the sun-baked deserts and brutal, war torn landscape as a man could get.

“You didn’t die over there, either.” Crane spoke so softly Greg thought he misheard. But he opened his eyes to find the old man studying him. “It’s time you started living again, too.”

***

Every night began and ended the same. He collapsed into bed too exhausted to think or feel anything. He always woke, his legs cramping and the sound of his bones shattering in his ears. Jerking upright, he stared at the wall and tried to get his breathing under control. The cramp in his right thigh felt like someone turned a screw into his leg—and he knew exactly how that felt. Pounding the rebellious muscle with his fist, he embraced the bruising sensation.

Like Crane said, he didn’t die over there.

Death didn’t hurt.

“Seriously?” Greg eyed A.J. and Sheri across the table. They’d dragged him into Freewill for dinner. He’d tried to beg off, but neither would hear of it. Apparently the evening conversation consisted of take-Greg-out-and-tell-him-horror-stories. “You two met via a sex date?”

Sheri’s face colored deep pink and she laughed. “It wasn’t a sex date, exactly.”

“No, it was a sex date.” A.J. rubbed the back of her neck, amusement curving the corners of his mouth. “It just helped that we became a lot more than the sum of that date.”

Tipping his beer bottle, Greg took a long drink rather than respond. He didn’t have words to answer that.

“Huh, speechless. That’s a sight I didn’t think I’d ever see.” A.J.’s easy grin didn’t falter.

Fine. They brought it up
. “Where did you find a sex dating service?” Sure, he’d seen the porn ads on late night television and had been caught in one or two
pornados
on line, but what dating service promised sex …legally?

“I didn’t, Luke did. He and a bunch of the guys signed up for one set up by a Madame Evangeline. Or Madame Eve.”

Greg’s right eyelid twitched. “So it’s an escort service?”
What else would it be with a name like that running it?

“No.” Sheri leaned forward. Her voice dropped despite their corner table in a nearly empty restaurant. Apparently, they’d arrived at an off hour for dinner, or in the lull between, according to A.J. “Madame Eve allows you to meet the perfect person for you—matches two people looking for the same things. It’s called a one-night stand because both parties want sex, sure. But sometimes they want different things or they want a connection they can’t find in their everyday life. It takes a lot of the pressure off and you can have a good time. If you’re lucky….” She glanced at A.J., and he met her look with the smile of a genuinely happy guy.

Uh huh
. Considering she was a lady, he managed to stifle his snort of derision. “That’s great, glad it worked out for you. But I’m good.” He stretched his legs, sore from the long hike. Each day, he and Crane went farther. Between hiking and the labor on the ranch, Greg grew stronger. Regular labor proved far more satisfying than physical therapy, too.

“It did work out for us, but it’s more than just coupling up.” A.J. paused while the waitress cleared away their appetizers and delivered their dinners—thick steaks and baked potatoes for the men, and a grilled chicken salad for Sheri. “It’s about living again.”