Читать книгу A Soldier's Promise - Cheryl Wyatt - Страница 8

“Yo, Montgomery!”

Amber stepped aside as a man in desert camouflage sprinted over with a cell phone in hand. “CO Petrowski’s callin’ you back on this phone in twenty.”

A flurry of activity erupted as military personnel packed up display items and loaded gear into the choppers, which roared to life. Their blades swooshed her hair like monstrous fans, and ended conversation. Despite that, Amber picked up on a few words passed between Joel and the other officer. Unprecedented magnitude. Tragic destruction. Thousands trapped.

Something about a large rescue, relief and recovery operation, and their team being on standby for deployment.

“Let’s be ready to roll just in case.” Joel bent as Bradley neared—to hear over the thwumping helicopters, she supposed. Clay-colored dust clouds turned the air into a sandstorm.

Bradley looked like a poster child for despair. “Am I ever gonna see you again?”

Amber wanted to ask the same thing.

“I sure hope so, lil’buddy.” Joel circled Bradley’s waist with one arm.

“I sure hope so, too.” Bradley’s chin quivered. Amber drew closer, hand to Bradley’s back.

“You promised I could be a hairy PJ for the day.” Bradley fingered an emblem on Joel’s uniform.

Honorary, Amber corrected mentally.

Joel tilted his face and coughed into his hand and pulled Bradley closer. Amber wasn’t fooled. Moisture sheened Joel’s eyes before he’d blinked it away.

Hands sidling Joel’s face, Bradley leaned nose to nose. “You promised, and PJs don’t break promises, right? That means you’ll be back. You only rescue people. No one really ever shoots at you, right?”

Joel’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he regarded Bradley. “Let’s make a pact. You promise to fight this cancer as hard as you can and hang on till I get back, and I promise to be the best rescuer and bullet-dodger in the world. Deal?”

Bradley’s smile reached his eyes. “Deal.”

Chills danced up Amber’s scalp as Bradley transformed before her. Hope. She hadn’t seen it on his face since his diagnosis. Bradley hugged Joel hard. Joel held Bradley tighter. He pulled a maroon beret from his side pack and placed it on Bradley’s head. After swiping tears at the gesture, Bradley made Joel pinkie-shake on their special deal.

At the last bell, a horn sounded in the parking lot.

Amber brushed Bradley’s arm. “Your ride is waiting, tater.”

A frown beset by a flash of irritation drew Joel’s face tight as he glared at the car, a dilapidated source of incessant honking which Amber deemed Bradley’s ride.

Bradley stole one last hug, then shuffled off like a slug in the slow lane. Joel watched him, looking coiled and ready to pounce should Bradley stumble.

The car door swung open and a barrage of female screeching tumbled out. Compassion settled on Joel’s face.

“What makes his gait unsteady?” Joel asked.

“His illness,” Amber replied.

He eyed the car and its driver with what she interpreted as disdain as it jolted forward. It sped from the lot, leaving twin tire trails and poufs of silvery-white dust. “Car muffler’s obviously MIA. That his mom?”

“No. Bradley’s birth mother abandoned him.”

Joel twisted to peer at her. Had his skin blanched a shade lighter with her words?

He flicked a glance down the road. “Who picked him up just then?”

“His foster mom.”

“That the best they can do for him?”

“There is a court hearing scheduled to secure a better arrangement for Bradley.” She glossed over the fact that the woman was one violation away from losing her foster license and custody of Bradley. Her answer must not have pacified Joel.

With pinpoint accuracy and acutely unnerving silence, Joel stared into her eyes like a sniper to a scope.

Amber brushed hair behind her ear. “We suspect she’s neglectful on many levels.”

His brows crinkled. “He’s still with her, why?”

“Because we need concrete proof, and she’s the person his mother left him with.”

“Why doesn’t she let someone adopt him? He’s an adorable little kid. Though I suppose with his illness, most families wouldn’t want to take him.”

I would. “Adoption requires consent from his biological mother. After a two-month quest, we located her, hoping his diagnosis might spur her to want time with him.”

“Did it?”

“No. She signed over rights, saying she couldn’t deal with a healthy kid, much less a sick one. His caseworker and attorney subpoenaed paperwork to determine where things stand legally with the foster mother, and whether he needs to be a ward of the state.”

Joel peered at his watch, then to the choppers.

“Do you need to go?” She wondered what the page had been about. Had to be something big, but she didn’t want to put him on the spot if it were something top secret.

“Not yet. The page earlier set us on standby alert. We’re packing up just in case we get deployed. We’re a quick reaction force, so I like to be ready.” He dipped his head toward her collar. “I forgot to give his glasses back.”

She looked down, and tugged them from her pocket. “That’s okay. It’ll give me an excuse to run them by his house.”

Joel lifted a boot to the school yard slide. “You need an excuse?”

“His foster mother can be…volatile.”

He stared at the glasses in Amber’s hand. “No wonder he wished for a family. How can they allow a questionable individual to be a foster parent?”

“I gather she put up a good front at first. Lately, not so good.”

“Poor guy’s got a lot on his plate.” Joel lifted hands to soldiers gathering tiny flags the children had left them. He caught one they tossed. “You said we. Are you involved in the process as his teacher?”

She nodded, about to clarify she had applied for a foster care license to take Bradley in. Something stopped her. “I spearheaded the search for his mother—”

Joel’s reaction silenced her. He first looked slapped, then detached as he faced the swings. His head dropped forward toward the ground and he swallowed. His expression like a flint, he set his face skyward, as if searching for something. As if suddenly remembering Amber, he swiveled toward her and their eyes locked.

Her breath hitched at the bold, compelling intensity. Amber couldn’t tell his thoughts. He didn’t speak, just stared. She stared back, wanting badly to know what in the world was happening. Not just here between them, but globally. A shrill jingle made him blink.

She flinched, the moment lost.

He flipped the cell open. “Yes, Commander…I am aware, sir…We anticipated that and are only ten from liftoff…You’re welcome…I know, sir. I’m praying, too.”

Joel closed the phone, dropped it in his front pocket. “Can they spare you a minute?” He darted a glance at the school.

“For a few minutes.” Amber followed. “Can you tell me what’s happened? We’re all understandably frightened.”

“It’s all over the news. An earthquake hit Asia, causing floods in the tsunami zone.”

“Earthquake?” Amber blurted.

“Thousands of South Indians are in dire need along the coastline. My team will be part of the humanitarian mission.”

Amber deflated, glad World War III hadn’t started. Then guilt assailed her. The tragedy might not have struck her world, but it had struck someone’s. Lots of someones. “How horrible.” She held Joel’s empathetic expression.

He nodded. “Listen, I intended to make things real special for Bradley, but literally the ocean came up. Will he understand?” Uncertainty flickered behind the calm in his eyes.

Was he kidding? “Oh, Joel. You have no idea the impact of what you’ve done here today, do you? All these soldiers, those helicopters, your jump…un-be-lievable. Bradley has never experienced anything so profoundly amazing.” Neither have I. The world needs more men like this one, Lord.

The glimmer resurfaced in his eyes. Not tears really, just tangible emotion. “That’s good. I hate to cut this convo short, but I should help pick up.” He moved toward soldiers who passed by, loading supplies. They waved him back, so he retrained his gaze on her. She guessed this was goodbye.

“I feel exceedingly blessed to have met you, Special Soldier Montgomery.” She stretched her hand for a departing shake.

He didn’t budge except to blink down at her palm before casting a thoughtful expression at her. He scratched a finger over his temple where tanned skin melted into an onyx-shadowed buzz cut. “Can I, uh—can I get your contact info?”

Her heart thudded warmth onto her face. “Um…Okay, sure.”

“You know, for updates on Bradley. And stuff.”

Stuff? What constituted stuff? “Of course.” She patted her pockets for something to write with and on.

So did he, and came up with a blue splotched paper.

“That’s Bradley’s letter,” she said.

He eyed her head and grinned. “And this—” he tugged the blue pen from behind her ear “—is the culprit.”

They shared a laugh as she wrote down her contact information. Fending off a snicker, she slipped the pen between the paper folds while he peered past her.

Amber handed him the bulky letter. “I know you need to go.”

“In a minute.”

She thought he’d find the dreaded pen right then but he tucked the paper in his chest pocket and reached out his hand.

When she put hers there, he sandwiched it between his. He stared at her with sincere intensity. “It was truly an honor to meet you, too, Special Teacher Stanton. I won’t soon forget you.” Warmth emanated from his fingers and spread up her arms.

Soon forget? That meant he’d eventually forget, right? A weird panic seized her that she may never see him again. Her heart and mind raced. How could she make him know how much this meant to Bradley? Did Joel know what a rare and precious stone he was in this rocky world?

Aware the children had gone, Amber slipped her hand from his then reached up as far as she could without making frontal contact, and hugged him.

Bulky arms wound around her, pulling her close, reciprocating. My, she hadn’t meant to get this close.

She marveled at how he could be strong and tender at the same time as he held her against a wall of security and warmth.

The guy was built like a tank. Thankfully he smelled of crisp air and soap instead of mortar and metal. She pulled back, instantly missing the comforting thud of his heart.

His eyes twinkled. “Wow. What was that for?”

“For giving him something to live for. A reason to hope. The will to fight.” For being one very special and sensitive human being that I suspect you are but try to hide.

“Bradley’s a real fighter. Hey, I should jet before they take off without me. Although, I could handle this all day.” He grinned as if having a private joke with himself that she wasn’t privy to.

“I understand.” Even though she didn’t understand what he could handle all day. The hug, or being with Bradley? She stepped aside so he could pass. His lip twitched as if to laugh. Her action took him by surprise, for sure. She turned to watch him board.

Every man hung out the chopper doors, gawking. Heat scorched her cheeks. Joel peered back over his shoulder, disabling her motor function with a bold wink and a disarming smile that made her pulse trip.

She quickly spun away, imagining he’d be relentlessly teased. Great. They probably didn’t know her hug had only been out of thankfulness and nothing more.

Neither did her heart for that matter, for it beat over a hundred times per minute.

The choppers lifted off. Hurricane-like winds tousled leaves and bent limbs. Multicolored flowers and waxy green grass swayed as if a large invisible hand brushed back and forth across their tips.

Dust swirled in a cyclone, stinging Amber’s skin. She shut her eyes and shielded her face. Once it died down, she waved her arm to clear air in front of her and caught sight of blue. She lowered her hand to study it, momentarily blipping on what caused it. Then she realized.

Ink had transferred to her fingers and palm from the paper Joel had handed her. She scrubbed. The impression only smeared, leaving imprints everywhere she touched.

“Stupid pen.” She raked her hand along her jeans. It wouldn’t erase. She laughed.

The pen was the soldier’s problem now.

She peered around her.

Only charred cardboard remnants, firework soot and debris remained in the school yard.

On her trek to the entrance, Amber bent to retrieve a glass jar the bottle rockets shot from. A few more steps, and she picked up a flag from a stone bench near the garden. As she turned, something white caught her eye. Foreboding stopped her short but then the object in the middle of the fountain compelled her feet forward.

One of the toy parachutes thrust through the air with fireworks must have landed here. A bamboo plant clutched its tattered chute. Rocks wedged the plastic man. Water rolled over the side like a miniature flood, engulfing the toy.

Frozen, she studied the odd little scene.

Water. The Asian plant. A parachutist.

The flood. South India. Joel.

Amber snatched the little man from the water, hoping no one watched. It might be plastic, but she couldn’t leave it trapped underwater by the fountain’s rolling wave. She dried it on her jeans, folded up the parachute and tucked it inside her jacket.

Close to her heart.

From the Chinook, Joel watched the school until it became a tiny red dot in the distance.

“That was way cool,” Manny said above the whipping wind.

“Yeah. I’ll never forget those kids’ faces when we landed. How long you figure that little guy’s got?” Nolan’s smile faded as he shifted to face Joel.

“His teacher says he won’t make it to the end of the school year without a bone marrow transplant.” Joel used the tip of his boot to push his newly folded parachute pack against the wall.

“He really bonded with you, man.” Manny lifted his voice above the roar. “You ought to make it a point to get back there and see him.”

You promised. Joel leaned sideways, resting on an elbow. “Depends on how long we’re needed in Asia. I really liked him.”

“And his teacher?” Nolan grinned and elbowed Chance. They both stared at Joel. “Because she sure seemed to like you.”

Snickers erupted among Joel’s Special Forces buddies.

Joel just shook his head.

“You get her number, Montgomery?” Manny asked.

“That’s for me to know, Peña.” Joel leaned his head back, intent on playing possum.

“Sounds like a challenge,” Chance announced.

Next thing Joel knew, scuffling erupted. He vaulted to his feet but Nolan tackled him. SEAL Silas and PJ Chance restrained his arms.

The skirmish landed them all on the floor and garnered interesting looks from the new female pilot. Manny sat on his torso, and Nolan lunged for Joel’s chest pocket.

Muscles tensed, Joel strained and cycled his legs, making contact with flesh. Someone groaned. Good, he got one. Others pretzeled his legs with grips of titanium. Crinkling sounded as Silas jerked the letter from his pocket. Something blue flew out when Silas flipped it open.

That pen. He knew she’d slipped it in there back at the school. He’d pretended not to notice.

“Don’t rip that note or I’ll—” Freed, Joel shot to his feet, lunging for the paper.

Arms grabbed him from everywhere, netting him in.

With a victorious shout and a fist shot to the air, Silas tossed Nolan the letter.

Joel took a deep breath, then laughed during exhale because they all looked as sweaty and disheveled as he felt. At least he’d put up a good fight. They needed to break a fun sweat now and then.

Nolan opened the blue polka-dot-splotched battle prize and flicked his forefinger at Amber’s handwriting. “Told you, Peña.”

Manny took the paper, looked, then handed it to Joel.

Joel picked up the pen and tucked it in his pocket with the letter before securing a comfortable seat against the wall.

Manny slumped beside him. “It figures. You got numbers, and I got nothin’.”

Jack Chapman’s dimples popped up, bracketing a teasing smirk. “Speaking of figures, nice from what I could tell with all those baggy clothes on. Joel could give us the stats since he got closer at her than any of us.”

The other guys laughed good-naturedly.

Joel pinned them to the wall with a look, then closed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest, feigning sleep.

He’d never hear the end of it. Never.

The talk of women didn’t usually bother him this bad, even when some of the guys got raunchy. He’d simply walk away when the talk moved beyond PG-13. The thought of their minds tainting Amber’s innocence over a hug made him feel defensive.

Not liking his shift in loyalty, Joel rubbed his chest, right where the attraction for Amber had stemmed from. He rubbed but it wouldn’t go away. In fact, the more he thought of her, the greater it got. So he needed to stop thinking of her.

Shifting uncomfortably, he rested his other hand on his stomach, where concern had evolved into gut-deep compassion. It had been harder to leave Bradley than he’d anticipated. Still, he associated Bradley with Refuge. He wouldn’t, couldn’t go back there. You promised.

To keep his promise meant facing Refuge and his attraction to the teacher. Maybe he could just write Bradley. That would be good enough. Wouldn’t it?

A distant echo of words swarmed his mind.

You promised. They grew loud to the point he couldn’t hear anything else.

And you never break a promise, right? Whose voice whispered? Bradley? Or himself as a child pleading with an invisible mother, then for God to make her want to come home? He missed her so much it hurt beyond words. Then. Now.

Come back. You promised.

But she couldn’t. Not now. Not ever. Death took her before she could keep her promise. He didn’t want any child to go through that kind of loss. If he took the easy way out and avoided Refuge, Bradley was destined for disappointment.

Joel remembered how it felt to have childhood dreams ripped from his grasp like a favorite toy from the arms of a child in clutching need of its comfort. Every dream except one.

I want to be a PJ. Joel smiled at both the irony and the miracle. Joel’s one realized dream packed potential to fertilize a little boy’s last wish into fruition. He refused to let past hurts ruin the redemption of that child’s hope.

He opened his eyes, imploring his men to hold him to the creed of courage and accountability that bonded them as a team. “I promised the kid I’d come back.”

At his words, most of the men nodded. They settled in for the long flight, except Manny, who tugged something from his belt clip. “Ever seen one of these, Montgomery?”

Joel leaned forward and palmed the dark-colored handheld with a BlackBerry logo. “Not this brand. Thing looks pretty cool.” He started to hand it back to Manny.

Manny pushed it back to Joel with a grin. “Try it out. Since you have her e-mail address and all.”

Joel eyed the tiny keyboard and scratched his stubbled jaw. “Maybe I will. You know, to keep up with what’s going on with Bradley.”

After laughing, Manny leaned forward and showed him how to make international calls and send e-mail. “Use it anytime you want. Even once we’re there.”

“This’ll work all the way from India?”

“As long as we’re in a secure location and keep the battery charged.”

“It’ll work right now?” Joel peered around the helicopter, and the sky that carried it. “Up here?”

“When those bars light up, that means you have a valid signal.”

At least he and Amber could forge a friendship. Bradley’s plight had already bonded them. He felt it, and suspected by her spontaneous hug that she had, too.

After intense concentration, Joel typed an e-mail to her. He gathered the nerve to hit the send command before constructing a second e-mail to the students.

Joel handed the gadget back to Manny, suddenly feeling unsure about this. Was there any way to retrieve those messages?

Manny tucked it back in his hip clip. “Don’t look so scared, Montgomery.”

Joel raked a hand around the back of his neck. “I’m not scared, Peña. It’s just been a long time since I’ve…”

Just what was this? Joel clasped his hands on his knees. How could he define something he didn’t know what to call?

Two bushy black eyebrows rose. “Since you what?”

“Pursued an interest,” Joel said with honesty that he knew would leave him an open target for relentless razzing.

“As I said, feel free to use it whenever the urge strikes you.” Manny rested his head back, shutting his eyes.

Joel stretched his feet out before reclining his head back, as well. “Thanks, Peña. It will come in handy.”

One of Manny’s eyelids slid open. “For keeping up with what’s going on with Bradley.”

“Right.” Joel slid his boot across the floor to kick his snickering friend into silence.

He’d never hear the end of it.

And maybe, for once, he didn’t want to.