Love of a Marine (The Wounded Warriors Series Book 2) (3 page)

“It’s cold.” How well he remembered winter in Wyoming. “Very cold.”

She walked to the window at the side of the building. “I heard Dwayne’s truck.”

The entrance door opened, Amber entered, and DD took a flying leap right into her arms. “How’s my little furry sister today, DD-weedie?” She hugged DD, gave Queen an affectionate pat, and put her arms around Cluny’s neck.

“Are you going to take me to the beach this week, Uncle Cluny?”

He hugged his tall, skinny, eight-year-old goddaughter and planted a hard kiss on her cheek. “If your dad will let me.”

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetie. How’s the knitting?”

“I’m almost done.” Amber hugged her stepmother and rested her hand on Marla’s belly. “Hello, baby brother.”

“I’ll be so happy when you can say hello to this bruiser in person. My back is killing me.” Marla grinned when Dwayne walked in. “I need a foot rub, Dempsey.”

“Soon as we get home, Danaher.” He embraced her. “You ready to leave?” He smacked Cluny on the back. “How’s it going, McPherson?”

“Good, Gunny.”

“Amber and I’ll head home, honey.” Marla kissed Dwayne, then Cluny. “I’ve got beef stew in the slow cooker. Why don’t you join us? I made more than enough.”

Dinner with the Dempsey’s was music to his ears. “When did I ever turn down your cooking? Thanks, I’d love it.” He waved when Marla and Amber left, then gazed at his old buddy. “You are one lucky son of a bitch.”

“I thank God for her every day,” Dwayne answered. “When she hired me to do that apartment building renovation, heaven smiled on Amber and me.”

He and Dwayne had been friends since junior high school in Buffalo, Wyoming. They’d served in the same Marine unit in Iraq. Cluny had been there all those years when Dwayne struggled to recuperate from grievous war wounds and raise Amber from infancy as a single dad.

They’d moved to California together when the senior Dempsey wanted to retire and asked Dwayne to take over his construction company. Cluny had eventually opened his own plumbing business, and they often worked together. “We’ve been through a lot over the years, Gunny. I couldn’t be happier for you.”

Dwayne eyed him. It was impossible to keep anything from his lifelong friend. “What’s up, soldier? I know that look.”

“Do you remember that big SEAL who took out the savage with the RPG trying to kill us outside Fallujah?”

“Marv? Sure. He saved all our asses that day. It’s a crying shame he paid the ultimate price in that shithole.”

“I’m pretty sure I met his wife and kid today.”

“What?” Dwayne stared at him like he’d gone off the rails.

“It sounds crazy, but I was sitting on the beach today and this kid and his mom were there. They’ve been there for the last three mornings. The boy, his name is Santos Jefferson, got curious about Queen and wandered over.”

“I don’t remember Marv’s last name. Did we ever hear it? What makes you think the kid was his?”

Cluny shook his head and raised his hands. “They invited me to have lemonade with them, and Santos showed me a snapshot of his dad. I recognized Marv, but didn’t say anything for fear I was imagining it.” His stomach clenched at the memory of the man in the photo. He still couldn’t believe it.

“Amazing! I’d love to tell his wife what he did for us that day. Do you know where she lives?”

“No. I helped them load up their car and they took off. I didn’t have the presence of mind to ask her. I doubt she would have told me, a total stranger, anyway. Her name is Graciella. She has an accent.”

Dwayne shook his head. “Too bad. Maybe you’ll run into her again.”

“I doubt it. There are millions of people in this corner of California. I’m amazed to have met her in the first place.” Why hadn’t he asked where she lived or where she worked? He could have handed her one of his business cards.

“We better get home. I need to stay close to Marla.”

“We finished that extra bedroom and bathroom on your house in the nick of time. When is she due to deliver?”

“Yesterday.”

CHAPTER THREE

Fallujah, Iraq

“Gunny!” Blood sprayed the ground outside the smoking shell of the Bradley. Cluny struggled to his knees, clutching for his weapon, the haze of blood dripping in his eyes obscured his vision. “Gunny!”

Gunny Sgt. Dempsey, screaming with shock and pain, scrabbled on the ground in a frantic search for his blown-off foot. Cluny raised his weapon and killed the savage aiming the next round at them just as another sprang up to take his place. In a gruesome parody of a carnival midway shooting gallery, enemy soldiers popped up one after the other. “Gunny!” he screamed and kept screaming, but couldn’t hear his own voice, gunfire, anything. “Gunny!”

In the midst of the insanity, a dog barked. Cluny sprang to a sitting position, eyes wide open, drenched in cold sweat. He had to get help for Gunny before he bled out. How long had he been out? “Medic! We need a medic!” The
whomp whomp
of helicopter blades threw up a cloud of grit.

A heavy paw hit him in the chest, waking him from the nightmare. Queen, it was Queen. He pulled her close and fell back on his soaked pillows, gasping and shaking. “Fuck!” He groaned and rolled his head from side to side.

Why was this nightmare haunting him all these years after Fallujah? He’d dealt with it, dealt with the fact that when his buddies needed him to take out the next killer he’d been unable to respond. He’d covered his roaring and bloody head with his arms and curled into a protective ball.

“Jesus Christ Almighty. Stop, please stop!”

Queen nudged him with her nose and whined, crawled up and lay heavy on his chest. Finally he stopped shaking, squeezed his eyes closed, patted her back and took deep, controlled breaths. “I’m good, Queen. I’m good, girl.”

The bedside clock glowed four-thirty. Cluny rose and staggered to the bathroom. It was useless to try and go back to sleep, so he turned on the shower and stepped out of his shorts. Cold water pounded him like an Arctic blast. Head lowered, he let it lash his head, back and shoulders, punishing him for the recurring nightmare.

He had to go back to Zuma Beach. Had to find Graciella and Santos and tell them what Marv had done, how he’d saved the lives of five Marines that day.

Maybe then he could start sleeping nights, have a normal life. Dwayne’s life—he wanted Gunny’s life. A woman who’d worry if he was late coming home from work, a kid who’d run with joy on her face and throw her arms around him when he walked in the door. Why couldn’t he have that life? Why?

Dressed in sweats, he took Queen for a hard run through the dark and hilly streets of his neighborhood. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of a squad car gliding in his direction. The cop put his hand out the window and waved. “Up early again, McPherson? Why would anybody in their right mind be up at this gawd awful hour?”

Cluny grinned and continued running. “Look who’s talking, pal.” The laughing cop was a familiar face on these dark mornings. Too many dark mornings.

Queen galloped with him stride for stride. If he stopped, she stopped and stared at him until he decided what to do next. Walk, run, sit—she followed his lead, never distracted by wildlife or a car. Cluny was her only purpose in life. “You’re my best girl, Queenie.” He bent and thumped her powerful chest then jogged down the next street.

At five-thirty, he dumped kibble in Queen’s bowl and replenished her water. Digging through the refrigerator searching for something to eat, he tipped up the orange juice carton and drank half of it. He flexed his neck and shoulders, took the waxed carton of egg whites, prepared an omelet drenched with salsa, and sat at the table to eat.

“Shall we go to the beach, girl?” If Graciella and Santos were there, he’d take another look at the boy’s photo of Marvin, then tell them the story.

Queen grinned and her tail dusted the floor.

They didn’t show. He sat on the sand by the Point Dume rocks until noon, then gave up and headed home. He’d probably never see them again. Never see the boy who looked so much like his father and the breathtaking woman, his mother.

His cell sounded off. “Yo, Gunny. What’s up?”

“Marla decided to have our boy today. Could you come over and sit with Amber while I’m gone? Brad and Silvia are here, but they’d like to be at the hospital with their daughter.”

“Tell them I’m an hour away. I’ll take over as soon as I get there.”

“OK, will do.” Dwayne hung up, and Cluny raced to his car.

So, today was the day Declan Danaher Dempsey would make his appearance.
Dwayne, you lucky SOB.
Having a foot blown off in Iraq hadn’t kept him from going after the life he wanted. At least Gunny’s wound was obvious. No explanation required.

McDonald’s restaurant, Simi Valley

Cluny and his goddaughter were about to finish dinner at McDonald’s when his phone buzzed. “Yo.”

“You can bring Amber to the hospital now to meet her brother and visit Marla. She’s worn out but wants to see her before she goes to sleep. Tell her the kid looks like she did, except he has my blue eyes and red hair like his mom.” Relief and jubilation in his old buddy’s voice poured through the phone. “Here’s a picture of him.”

“You’re a lucky bastard, Gunny.”

Amber scowled at his use of profanity.

He reached across the table and pinched her nose. “Want to wash my mouth out with soap?”

She nodded. “Yes, but I’ll do it later. Let’s go see Mom.”

“We’re on our way, pal.” He held the phone for his eight—going-on-eighteen—year-old goddaughter to see her baby brother. He grinned and winked. “Let’s go meet your brother.”

Simi Valley Hospital

Marla looked as if she’d slogged through a long mission behind enemy lines, but her face glowed with contentment. She opened her arms as Amber walked with tentative steps to her bedside.

“Give me a hug before I conk out. Did you see Declan?” She patted the bed next to her. “Come up here.”

Amber boosted onto the bed and draped herself across Marla. “Not yet. I wanted to see you first, Mom. Are you tired? Did it hurt?”

Cluny and Dwayne watched from the foot of the bed. The huge grin on Dwayne’s face matched his own.

Marla rubbed Amber’s back. “I’m exhausted but so happy. Did Daddy tell you Declan looks like you did the day you were born?”

“I saw his picture, but I have brown hair and light brown eyes.” She sat up and asked, “When can you come home?”

“In the morning. We’ll all be home tomorrow.”

Dwayne leaned close to Cluny’s ear and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’d like Marla and me to have a few hours at home alone tomorrow. Do you mind picking Amber up in the morning?”

“Not at all. I’ll take her to the beach for the day.” He’d look for Santos and Graciella again.

“Thanks, bud.” He rounded the end of the bed and lifted Amber into his arms. “What say we give Mom a rest? You and Uncle Cluny can go to the nursery and see Declan.” He tipped her over the bed so she could kiss Marla goodnight.

Marla brushed a hand over Amber’s cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetie. I can’t keep my eyes open a minute longer.”

“Goodnight, Mom. I’m so glad Daddy married you.” Dwayne set her on her feet and she took Cluny’s hand. “Let’s go see the baby.” She shook a schoolteacher-ish finger. “And I don’t want you teaching him any bad words.”

Cluny winked at Dwayne and Marla. “I won’t, on my honor as a Marine. Although that’s where I perfected most of them. What say you stay over at my house tonight and we’ll take Queen to the beach tomorrow? I’ll bring you home in time for supper.”

“We’re going to the beach? Can I, Mom? Dad?”

Dwayne said, “You notice who she asked first? Go and have a good time, squirt. Mom and I will be all rested up when you get home.”

Amber cocked her head at Dwayne. “Why do you have to rest? She did all the work.”

“Good question. Try and answer that one, Gunny.”

Dwayne laughed. “We’ll see you at suppertime tomorrow.”

“Don’t cook. I’ll grab Chinese on the way to your place.” He pointed at his pal. “I know you need your rest.” Chuckling, he took Amber’s hand and left the room. “Let’s take a look at this amazing new Dempsey. Nursery’s that way.”

Amber stared in the nursery window. “Did I look all red and rill mashed up like that when I was borned?” She wrinkled her nose.

Cluny ruffled her hair. “Yes you did, but take my word for it, by tomorrow he’ll look like an ad for baby food. All he needs is a chance to get used to this world. It’s a big change from where he’s been for the last several months.”

“He looks too big to fit in Marla.”

“He is, and that’s why he’s here now.”

“Why do all the babies have hats on? It looks like his blanket is too tight.”

Cluny stopped a nurse passing by. “Ma’am? This young lady is asking me questions I’m not qualified to answer. Could you help me out?”

The attractive young nurse smiled. “Sure.” She glanced at his left hand. A reaction he often got from women. “Your daughter?”

Amber piped up, “He’s my uncle. He’s never been married and he’s pretty dumb about babies. Not my dad though. He raised me all by himself since I was that big.” She pointed to Declan. “Why do all the babies have hats? And why are their blankets wrapped up so tight?”

The nurse and Amber moved closer to the window. “Hats keep them calm and help them sleep. They aren’t used to air yet. Until they’re born, they live in warm water, so air takes some getting used to. They feel safe and cozy in a tight blanket, like someone is holding them.”

Amber frowned and glanced at Cluny. “Maybe you’d sleep better if you wore a hat, Uncle Cluny. Have you ever tried that?”

Taken off guard by this kid who had a habit of throwing curve balls, Cluny shuffled his feet when the pretty nurse gave him a questioning look. “Maybe I’ll try it.”

“You can’t sleep?” the young woman asked.