Unpredictable Love (2 page)

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Authors: Jean C. Joachim

Tags: #contemporary romance, #mistaken identity, #military romance, #steamy love story

BOOK: Unpredictable Love
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She sighed. Archie worked at the paper that
was owned by his father. They mostly talked shop when they went
out. Sometimes, he took her to a movie.


Archie’s better than nothing,” she’d
said a hundred times to her sister and aunt. But she knew they
didn’t believe it any more than she did. He was lonely, and so was
she.
What’s it hurt, having dinner with
him?

She opened Trent’s letter. It was a single
page, with small, neat script.

 

I gave you all my important intel in my
first letter. So this is about other stuff. I like animals. I grew
up with a dog and a turtle. Tortoise, really. He was a big guy.
Smart, too.

I like American food mostly, but also
Mexican. Out here, I’m getting used to MRE’s. Basically, I’m a
steak and potatoes kind of guy. What’s your favorite meal?

Got to go. Can’t talk about where. You
understand. Please write soon.

I hope you received my last letter. We live
for mail delivery.

Take care,

Trent

 

Jory took a piece of paper from her writing
tablet and grabbed a pen. Before she began, she changed her mind,
went to her desk, and pulled out a box of pretty, pink notepaper
she had received as a gift but never used. She’d had no one to
write a letter to before today. After slipping out a sheet, she
leaned on a pad and began.

Dear Trent,

Sorry it’s taken me so long to write back.
Work has been very busy, and I do

some of the cooking at home for my sister
and my aunt. My favorite meal is

Chinese. The real thing, like you find in
Chinatown in New York City. I’ve only

been there twice, but the food was amazing.
I like American, too. I love Turkey

and mashed potatoes. But I’ve never turned
down a good steak.

I don’t remember exactly what I told you in
my first letter, but we have a cat,

Pookie. She goes outside for a good part of
the day, but sleeps with me at night.

She’s scratching to get in, so I’ve got to
go. I hope this letter reaches you.

Sincerely,

Jory Walker

One glance at her watch told her she was
already ten minutes late for work. She scrawled Trent’s address on
the envelope and stamped it.


Well, it’s done. I hope he doesn’t
notice the different handwriting. Gotta ask Amber what she told
him. Geez. This is the last thing I need. Damn her.”

Downstairs, she handed it to Nan. “Mail this
for me?”


Sure, hon.”

Jory trotted to her old car, pulling the
keys out of her purse as she walked.

 

* * * *

 

Once she got to her office, she turned on
her computer and plucked the other two letters from SSGT Stevens
out of her bag. She hid behind her screen, in case Archie came
by.

Dear Jory,

What’s a pretty girl like you doing writing
to a grubby guy like me? It’s so dusty

here I swear you could plant a garden in my
hair. Sorry if that’s gross. It’s hot

and dry. We can only take two-minute showers
because we’re low on water. The

barracks are hot in the summer and cold in
the winter. I hate it here, but it’s my

job.

Tell me more about your life. Everything
about home helps me remember this

hellhole isn’t forever. I’d write more, but
its lights out. Wish I could kiss you

goodnight.

Sweet dreams,

Trent

Her brow wrinkled.
He’s miserable, and he’s falling for me. Crap. This isn’t
supposed to be happening.
She opened the third
letter.

Dear Jory,

I haven’t heard from you, even after writing
two letters. I know they were short, but there isn’t a heck of a
lot to write about here. I get it. You’ve probably got some guy
taking up your time. A girl who looks like you isn’t home knitting
sweaters every night. It’s okay. I appreciate the one you sent. I
wish you well.

Sincerely,

Trent

Before she could do anything, her door
opened.


Knock, knock, anyone here?” It was
Archie, standing on the threshold.

Jory opened her center drawer and slid the
letters in before he could see. “Come in. Actually, you are
already.”

He eased himself into a chair facing her
desk. “You look pretty busy. Working on a new story?”


Just following up on Laura’s pen pals
for the military effort.”


Oh, yeah. How’s that
going?”


So so.”


Can you give me 500 words on it? I’ll
schedule it for next week.”


Sure.”


I don’t want to keep you,” he said,
rising to his feet.

Once he had closed the door, Jory let out a
breath. She opened a new document on her computer and typed a
response to Trent. Then, she printed it out, put it in her bag, and
erased the file. When she got home, she’d copy it onto good
stationery.

An unexpected passing required a new
obituary notice. Jory was pressed into service. As she wrote, she
marveled at the full life the woman had had. Would the journalist
be blessed with children, grandchildren, fulfilling work, and a
devoted husband some day? Jory pushed the unanswered question out
of her mind and focused on her task.

Next, she helped pick articles from the past
that the Independent reran every week in a nostalgia column then
proofread ads called in from the feed store and Homer’s Restaurant.
Her busy afternoon kept her from finishing Trent’s letters at the
office.

Anxious to get home, she hit the gas pedal a
bit harder than usual. Surprised at how much she wanted to read his
words, she chalked it off to simple curiosity. She’d never been in
the Middle East and wanted to know more about the region. Or that’s
what she told herself.

When she came in the front door, Pookie,
their calico cat, was waiting in the kitchen. The furry creature
rubbed against Jory’s leg.


Yeah, yeah. I’m feeding you.” She
opened a can of cat food, dumped it in the feline’s dish, added
clean water to the water bowl, and put both on the floor. Then, she
poured herself a glass of merlot and climbed the stairs to her
room.

She took out a piece of fine writing
paper and began to pen the letter she had written at work. A knock
interrupted her. She glanced at the clock.
Sixty thirty already.
Amber opened the
door.


What do you want?” Jory asked,
looking up.

Amber leaned against the doorjamb. “Uh, it’s
after six, and I don’t see any dinner on the stove.”

Jory’s lips compressed into a frown. She
rose from her desk, fueled by anger. “You’ve got a lotta nerve. I’m
up here beating my brains out, writing four Goddamn letters to
Trent Stevens. Letters you should be writing! And you’re asking
about dinner? Here’s the deal. You want me to write, fine. But
you’ve gotta cook.”


Me?” Amber pointed at her own, ample
chest.

Jory nodded.


Really? I can’t cook.”


Then learn, damn it. It’s about time
you did anyway.”


And if I don’t?” A sassy look crossed
her sister’s face, and she rested one hand on her hip.


I’ll write to Staff Sergeant Trent
Stevens and tell him you’re a fraud. Then, I’ll report you to Laura
Dailey. They’ll drum you outta town.”


You wouldn’t do that.” Amber frowned,
but Jory saw uncertainty in her eyes.

The older one narrowed her eyes. “Try
me.”

Amber chewed her lip. “Okay, okay. But not
every night.”


Three nights a week.”


Three?” Amber’s voice shot up two
octaves.


That’s right. Like it or lump
it.”

Amber made a face and huffed down the
stairs. Jory broke into a smile as soon as her sister was out of
sight.
That’ll teach her. Besides, she
needs to learn to cook and pull her weight around here.

Jory stayed at her desk until she had
copied the computer letter and written two more.
He deserves to get one for each he sends out.
It’s the least I can do.

When she finished, she went down to dinner.
A casserole that looked like it had been dumped on the floor and
scooped back into the dish sat on the table.


Amber had a little trouble with the
chili casserole. So I helped,” Nan said, taking her
seat.

Jory curled her lip.


Too bad!” blurted out the young
woman. “You made me do it, now you have to eat it.”


Did this fall on the floor and get
swept back into the pot?” Jory’s stomach churned.


Not quite. Some of it spilled on the
counter. But it was clean. It’s okay, Jory. Just looks a little
lopsided.”


Eat it!” Amber flounced down into her
seat and thrust her elbows on the table. Tears gathered in her
eyes.


Hmm. Looks delicious,” Jory said,
ladling a generous portion onto her plate.

Amber blinked rapidly then stole a glance at
her sister.

Jory took a breath then shoved a spoonful of
the mess into her mouth. “Yummy. Sure tastes better than it
looks.”


I’ll get it right next time. I
swear.” Amber put her napkin in her lap.


I’m sure you will, Cookie,” Jory
said.

Amber smiled at the sound of her nickname.
She took a good helping of the food and then tasted it. “Not bad.
Considering I made it.”


You don’t mess up everything, Amber,”
Jory assured.


Almost.”


Not today. I’m proud of you. Well
done.”

Nan pulled a small box out of her pocket.
“In honor of learning to cook, I’m awarding this pin to Amber, for
bravery and valor facing off with the stove,” she announced,
handing the box to the young woman, who opened it with eager
fingers.

Inside, nestled in velvet, was a small gold
and ruby pin. It had belonged to the girls’ mother.


Mom’s pin! I love it. I love it. Put
it on.” Amber handed the piece of jewelry to her aunt, who fastened
it on the collar of her niece’s blouse.


It looks beautiful,” Jory put
in.


You know I’ve saved some of your
mother’s pieces to give to you girls, when the time is
right.”


Like Mom’s wedding band?” Jory asked,
before taking a forkful of the casserole.


That’s for you. Your mom always
wanted that to go to you, on your wedding day.”

Amber coughed then looked away.

Jory noticed Nan stare at the young woman.
“You okay?” the older sister asked.

Amber nodded, taking a sip of water. “Sorry.
Choked on saliva. But she doesn’t get that until she gets married,
right?”


Right,” Nan confirmed, narrowing her
eyes.


Good. I mean. Since you’re not
serious about Archie, it’ll be a while before Nan has to dig that
out of storage.” The younger one shifted in her seat.

Jory watched her aunt continue to
stare at Amber, who looked away, casting her gaze on her
plate.
Something’s up.
Jory
shrugged. Something was always up with Amber, so she didn’t give it
a second thought. The truth would come out eventually. It always
did.

 

* * * *

 

Jory hadn’t set out to craft boring
correspondence to SSGT Stevens, but as she wrote, she realized how
uninteresting and predictable her life was. She sighed when Nan
entered the house Saturday morning with the mail.


Another one for you, Jory. This young
man likes to write.”


I thought he’d be discouraged by how
insipid and stupid my letters are. Guess not.”


Guess not.” Nan smiled as she hiked
up the stairs.

Jory put the envelope in her pocket, saving
it for bedtime.

She’d taken to retiring early so she could
savor Trent’s words in solitude. She liked to read through fast to
get the facts then reread them two or three times. When she went
back over them, she’d dig out the hidden loneliness lurking between
the lines. Although he never mentioned fear, upon second and third
readings her observant eyes picked up the hints of anxiety in his
many references to home.

His easy phrases, speaking to her as if she
was just on the other side of the back fence, sucked her in.

 

Milky Way was my favorite candy when I was a
kid. What was yours? Do you like baseball? I’ve been a Yankee fan
since I could throw a ball.

 

Before she was aware, he’d become a friend
somehow, ingratiating himself.

 

Did you ever have to deal with bullies when
you were a kid? If I had been there, I’d have beaten them up for
you. I had my share, being on my own, and figured out early how to
take them down.

 

He revealed pieces of his personality with
every letter.

 

I didn’t like school much. Except in the
eighth grade. I had Miss Armstrong for math. God, she was gorgeous.
Best figure of any female in the school. I got an “A.” But she left
to get married and move to Minnesota. That was the end of my
interest in school books. That’s why I joined the Marines.

 

With patience, she’d fitted them together to
form the image of a man she could almost touch.

Sometimes, she’d reread three or four before
turning out the light. She’d tacked his picture on the wall next to
her bed. He was the last thing she saw before falling asleep and
the first thing in the morning. Jory had planned to wind down the
correspondence, but every day she eagerly awaited mail delivery,
and a new peek into the mystery man who had inched his way into her
heart.

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