Carolina Man (9 page)

He looked up and there she was in the door of his room, silent as a ghost in her new athletic shoes, watching him from under the brim of his utility cap. Her face was blank, her eyes guarded.

He recognized the look and sighed.
At least she wasn’t throwing rocks
. “How’s your room?”

“It’s fine.”

In the Fletcher family, “fine” could mean anything from
It’s all good
to
It’s just a flesh wound
.

He tried again. “All unpacked?”

She nodded.

“You got your old stuff?” There hadn’t been as much in that single carton as he’d hoped. A blue comforter and some pillows, Mardi Gras beads and a couple of stuffed animals. That picture of her mom from the box of photos.

Taylor gave another nod.

Luke’s jaw clenched. He had hoped she’d show a little . . . He wasn’t looking for gratitude. But some acknowledgment that he was here, that he was trying, that they were a unit now, would be good. He wanted his daughter to feel like they were a family. Like this was home. They had their own house now. She had her own room. She needed . . .

“One more thing,” he said. He waited until her gaze met his. “It came in yesterday. A buddy of mine was holding it until this weekend, but I was thinking we could pick it up today. If you want to ride along.”

It was a safe bet she’d say no. She had yet to show any real desire for his company.

“Okay.” Taylor tilted her head. “Where are we going?”

With her head cocked, she looked like Bibi, the dog his squad had adopted back in Afghanistan. Hopeful. Doubtful.

The knot in his jaw eased. “It’s a surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“You’ll like this one,” he said.

He hoped.

They stopped by the main house. At almost thirty years old, he didn’t need to tell his parents every time he went out. But he didn’t want them to worry about the kid.

“I’ve got Taylor,” he called. “We’ll be gone for a while.”

“Good,” Tom said.

Luke raised his brows. His parents were standing close together—
very
close together—by the kitchen counter. His mother’s face was pink. Her eyes were bright.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“It’s a surprise,” Taylor piped up.

“Heading to the base,” Luke said. “Pick up that package I told you about.”

“Is that a good idea? With, well, everything else going on?”

Because
of everything else going on. “We’ll be fine,” Luke said.

“I thought you were going Saturday.”

Luke met his dad’s eyes. “Change of plans.”

“Semper Gumby,” Tom said.

“What?” Taylor asked.

Luke glanced down. “It’s a saying. Like . . . be flexible. Like Gumby.”

“Oh.”

Maybe she was too young to remember the cartoon.

His mother smoothed her hair. “Will you be home for dinner?”

“Thanks,” Luke said. “We’re good.”

Time to get out of the old people’s hair and let them get back to . . . Well, Jesus, he didn’t want to think about what they were getting back to. They were his parents, for Christ’s sake. But it was pretty cool that they were still into each other after all these years. One of these days . . .

Okay, no. He wasn’t looking for a house and a ring and the next forty years waking up next to the same woman. Any woman, he told himself as he went outside to the Jeep, and shook Kate Dolan from his mind. He would be gone in three months. He could be dead. He didn’t think about the future. He had responsibilities, he thought with a touch of desperation. To his men. To the Corps. He had
commitments
.

Taylor climbed into the Jeep in front of him, wiggling around to reach for her seat belt, all bony angles and soft blond hair, and the solid ground beneath him shook and shifted like a road in the wake of an explosion.

His hand clenched on the door of the Jeep as he struggled for balance.

He had a responsibility here, too. A commitment. What was he going to do about that in three months? What was he going to do about Taylor?

He took a deep breath and started the ignition. Nothing, he decided.

They’d get through this home visit and then they’d figure something out. Taylor would be fine. The family would pull together, the way they always did. He would do his duty, the way he always had. Nobody could ask, nobody could expect, more of him than that.

They never had.

 • • • 

T
AYLOR ROLLED HER
head against the back of her seat, sneaking a look at her dad . . . at Luke under her eyelashes as they drove along. He had a good face, thin and tan and strong, with little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes like he smiled or squinted a lot.

He wasn’t smiling now. Maybe he was sorry he invited her along.

My mom thinks your dad is hot
, her best friend Madison Lodge had whispered in class this morning when they were supposed to be working on their group science project.

Taylor had resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Madison’s mom thought Uncle Matt was hot, too.

Wouldn’t it be cool if he asked her out?
Madison had continued.
What if they got married? Then we would be sisters.

Taylor really liked Madison and her little sister, Hannah. It would be cool to have a sister. Or sisters. But she wasn’t ready for another mom. She wasn’t even used to having a dad yet.

She snuck another look at his profile, feeling a little glow of pride at the way he looked in his uniform, all tall and serious. He had big boots that laced halfway up his legs and made a loud sound when he walked. Like his boots meant business.

When he came to pick her up that first day at Grandma Jo’s, she’d never been so glad to see anybody in all her life.

She’d felt safe. No more sleeping on the couch. No more creepy Uncle Kevin.

Her dad was there to protect her.

But then he’d gone away again.

Maybe she shouldn’t get used to having a dad. Because what if she did and then something happened to him?

Taylor swallowed and stared out the window, a funny feeling in her stomach.

She tried to make up some story, where her dad got injured in the war and she nursed him back to health and he loved her and stayed home with her forever. But she couldn’t make the story work, even in her head. She was just a kid. She couldn’t take care of anybody. Anyway, she wasn’t even sure her dad liked her very much.

I want to be with you
, he’d said, like he meant it.

Maybe.

But he was still going away.

Sometimes she wished her mom had told her about Luke when she was alive. Maybe, if Luke had known about her before, he would have wanted to see her sometimes.

Maybe she would have grown up visiting with the Fletchers, Uncle Matt and Aunt Meg, Grandma Tess and Grandpa Tom. And Josh. She loved Josh.

And then she felt bad. It wasn’t like she had needed a dad back then. She had Mom. She missed her mom.
We don’t need anybody
, Mom would say as they snuggled together on the couch, staying up late, watching movies. Or going into Kinston to watch a baseball game, eating hotdogs under the lights.

But then Mom died. What if her dad died, too?

Taylor couldn’t stand it.

A rush of air battered her ears. She looked over. Luke had rolled down his window and was reaching into his shirt pocket for a pack of cigarettes.

She scowled. “You’re not supposed to smoke in front of me.”

“Sorry.” He tapped the pack back into his pocket. Rolled the window back up.

“You’re setting a bad example,” she said, taking a certain satisfaction in being a brat.

Luke looked at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You don’t sound like you’re about to light up just because you watched me smoke a cigarette.”

Taylor sniffed, resisting the urge to smile back. “I might. Anyway, smoking’s bad for you. You could get cancer.”
You could die
. Her heart clutched. “You should quit.”

“You’re right.” He nodded. “I will. I only smoke on deployment anyway.”

She eyed him sideways, wanting to believe. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. The smoke’s not good for you, either. This way we’ll both stay healthy.”

Okay. That sounded like he planned to be around a while. “Promise?” she said, not sure exactly what she was asking.
Please quit?
Don’t die?
Don’t leave me?

“Promise,” he said.

Taylor sighed and let her head rest against the back of her seat, only partially reassured.

 • • • 

T
HE ENTRYWAY OF
the small brown house smelled of diapers and dogs.

“Sorry, Staff Sergeant.” Corporal Danny Hill led the way through the narrow hall to the kitchen. “It’s been crazy around here. Beer?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.” Luke edged a stroller out of their path. Behind him, Taylor stepped over the bright plastic rings scattered on the floor. “Appreciate you doing this. How’s the new mama?”

“Stephanie’s out with the baby.” Danny grimaced. “All this is a little much for her.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Luke cleared his throat, embarrassed. “I meant the dog.”

“Oh, right. See for yourself. She’s right here. Bibi!” he called.

The tan hound scrambled from under the kitchen table, her thin tail whipping back and forth, her dark-ringed eyes on Luke.

Luke dropped to a crouch, gladness flooding him. “Hey, Bibi. Hey, girl. How’s it going?”

In answer, the dog flopped on to her back, exposing her belly for a rub.

Luke obliged, noting as he did so that her stomach was almost back to normal. “Taylor, meet Bibi.”

“Hi, Bibi.” Taylor got down on the floor beside him, offering her hand to the dog. Bibi sniffed and took a polite swipe at her palm with a soft, pink tongue. “She’s nice. Is she yours?” Taylor asked Danny.

“Yeah.” Danny thrust out his jaw. “You save a life, it belongs to you.”

Taylor’s eyes widened. “You saved her life?”

Some of the defensiveness went out of Danny’s pose. “Not me. Your dad did. Rescued her when we were out on patrol. Bibi saved
my
life, chasing off some bad guys.”

“Good dog.” Taylor rubbed the flat, scarred head. “Good Bibi.”

Above her head, Luke met Danny’s eyes. “Is Stephanie okay with this? With the dog?”

“Yeah, sure. She bought Bibi a steak the first night, like a thank-you present. She likes dogs. It’s just . . . You know.” Danny shrugged.

Luke didn’t know, exactly. Hell, he wasn’t married. But the emotional well-being of his men was his responsibility. And he’d watched his parents long enough to guess where the trouble could be.

“Sure,” he said casually. “Coming home. New baby. New pet. It’s an adjustment.”

“It’s a lot of work. I try to help out,” Danny said. “But she just gets mad if I do things my way.”

Oh, yeah, he knew this one. Tom and Tess had always done their best to present a united front to their children. But after every deployment, Tom would spend a couple of weeks barking orders, and Chicago-born Italian Tess would make it clear that whatever tactics had worked with his Marines wouldn’t fly in her house.

“Stephanie’s been handling everything on her own for eleven months,” Luke said. “You’ve got to respect that.”

“I do. She’s terrific.”

“Have you told her how proud you are of her?”

“I . . .” Danny stopped. Grinned sheepishly. “Shit.”

“You can tell her when she gets home.” Luke rose with a final pat, satisfied he’d made his point. “And you tell her we took one of your problems off your hands today.”

“Thanks, Staff Sergeant. They’re out back,” Danny said.

“Where are we going?” Taylor asked Luke.

“This way.”

She trailed him to the door. “Is it my surprise?”

He gestured to her to go ahead.

“What is . . .”

Yip yip
. An eddy of movement in the yard, a swirl of black, tan, white.

“
Puppies
!” Her voice rose with delight.

Luke grinned, victory and relief loosening his shoulders. So he’d done okay. It felt good, like getting his Expert badge in marksmanship.

A wave raced across the browning grass and flung itself at the steps. Taylor waded in and was engulfed in a whirlpool of small, solid, furry bodies—Bibi’s three pups, tumbling over each other in competition for her attention. Taylor giggled—a pure, happy sound he’d never heard from her before—and sank down, her arms outstretched as she tried to touch, pat, hug them all. The little girl, the joyful dogs and sunlit yard combined into a picture so bright it stung his eyes. His chest tightened.