Love Is a Battlefield (5 page)

After the exhausting day Kristy had just experienced, nothing would have made her happier than to sink into a hot bubble bath and then climb into bed. A great plan—except that most of her things were still in boxes. It would have been a scavenger hunt to try to find a bottle of bubble bath right now. So, as much as she needed to relax, she knew she couldn't put off unpacking any longer.

What an odd experience to go from planning a future with someone to being all alone. Once Mark's company let him know they were transferring him to Atlanta, he'd taken Kristy house hunting. They'd picked out furniture and wall colors together and even jokingly selected the room that would someday be the nursery. He'd moved into their dream home a month before the wedding date. Kristy looked around at the boxes that now surrounded her. Her heart dropped a little. When she'd packed up her things, she'd expected to unpack them with Mark, in their new house, after they had returned from their honeymoon.

How could so many things change in such a short time?

In hindsight, she could see all the ways they weren't compatible. Besides the obvious—she showed up for momentous occasions and he didn't.

She'd spent a lot of time on the cruise making a list of reasons a marriage to Mark would've been hard. Following the advice of a self-help book, which guaranteed to have her over him and ready to move on in a month or less, she'd taped the list to the refrigerator door. Usually looking at number one on the list made her feel better.
He wouldn't allow me to ask him how his day was.
But tonight it didn't help. It only made her realize how much time and effort she'd wasted on someone who wasn't worth it. How would she ever be able to trust her own judgment again?

The telephone rang as she was cutting the tape on the second box. Still on her knees and holding the scissors, she crawled toward the phone. Out of habit, she looked at the caller ID before answering.
No way.
She checked one more time to make sure her eyes weren't deceiving her.

Mark.

Her heart pounded in her ears.
Ring. S
he didn't want to hear his voice right now.
Ring.
Nothing he could say would change anything.
Ring.
Would it?
Ring.
Definitely not.

“Hi, it's Kristy. Leave a message!”

As her own voice came over the machine, she looked down at her white knuckles wrapped around the scissors. She leaned closer to the phone. A dial tone sounded loudly through the room.

She exhaled the breath she'd been holding and sat back on the carpet. She let the scissors fall from her fingers.

Maybe she should've answered. Really let him have it. Or even better, gone against his rule and asked him how his day had been. For a moment, she considered dialing him back but thought better of it. She'd gone over two weeks without calling. No way she was caving in now.

The phone rang again. This time she lunged for it before the first ring was complete. No use even looking at the caller ID. She was ready to get it over with. See what he had to say for himself.

“Mark.” she tried to keep her voice even, but the shakiness won out as she said his name.

“Um. No.” An unfamiliar male voice sounded confused.

Kristy held the phone away from her ear to see who it was.

According to the caller ID, Dorothy's son Robert was on the other end.

My mom had better not be behind this.
Suddenly, the agreement she'd made with her mother seemed like a very poor decision. But maybe he was calling for something innocent. Like he was inviting her to his mom's birthday or something.
Yeah, right. Because Dorothy and I are BFFs.

“It's Robert Aaron. We met at church last Sunday.” Robert's voice was muffled. Must be a bad connection.

Even though Kristy didn't want to deal with him, she didn't have a choice. Hanging up on him would've been rude. And asking him if he could wait and call back sometime when she wasn't about to have a nervous breakdown might have made her seem a little odd.

“I remember. How are you?” Here was that awkward small talk she had so hoped to avoid.

“I'm fine. Listen, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go out to dinner with me?” no small talk after all. He cut right to the chase.

If she said no, would he tell his mother, who would in turn tell Nancy, who would call her out on the deal they'd made? Kristy hated to go back on her word. She knew she'd end up feeling guilty. Sometimes she wished she were more like her sister, Sarah, who probably wouldn't have thought twice about backing out of a promise.

“Sure, Robert. When do you have in mind?”
How about a year from now, when I might actually be ready to date?

“How's Friday? six thirty? We can try that new seafood place near Pickwick.”

Kristy halfheartedly agreed and gave him directions to her house. Maybe he didn't notice the lack of enthusiasm in her voice. Staring at the phone like it was a foreign object, she wondered what she'd just done. If it hadn't been for Mark's out-of-the-blue phone call, she'd have been able to think of some way out of it. But thanks to timing, she had a date. Surely she could get through it.

She hung up the phone and crawled back over to the boxes of her belongings. Friday night was days away. Tonight she'd focus on the hunt for bubble bath.

Sam, her Cavalier King Charles spaniel, was only too eager to help. He sniffed around the fort of boxes excitedly as she tried to unearth the bathroom box. Ten minutes later, she emerged victorious. “Bath Essentials” had been hiding in the corner underneath “Christmas Decor.” she spied a bottle of eucalyptus bath soak that promised to soothe away stress and grabbed it. Kristy wasn't big on believing promises, but she'd take a chance on this one.

Bring on the bubbles. Unpacking could wait one more day.

The alarm clock had a major malfunction. The book that came with it said it would allow the sleeper to snooze for nine minutes if the snooze button was pressed. But each day, Kristy's snooze time seemed to be getting shorter and shorter. Or maybe it just seemed that way because of her lack of sleep.

She dragged herself into the kitchen hoping for a coffee jump start and was greeted unenthusiastically by Sam. His head lay between his outstretched front legs. He looked up at her with his big brown eyes, a hurt expression on his face. Beside him was an empty bowl.

“Sammy. I'm so sorry.” she scooped some of his special gluten-free dog food out of the canister and filled his bowl. Her apology was greeted with a haughty sigh. Sam was a tad dramatic. According to some people, he was a lot like his owner.

Once he'd eaten and seemed to have forgiven her for last night's oversight, she tried to make herself look presentable. Hopefully, no one would notice the dark circles underneath her eyes, she thought, as she gave Sam a treat and a belly scratch then began the short walk to the visitor center.

Early June in southwest Tennessee. It didn't get any better than this. Crisp, cool mornings, but by lunchtime it would be nice and warm. Yet not the July kind of warm that made Kristy feel like she lived in a sauna. With each step, the smell of freshly cut grass wafted toward her on the gentle breeze. The sweet aroma, along with the tire tracks running beside the sidewalk, told her the mowing crew had already begun their day.

As she strolled along, drinking in the morning, peace washed over her like a soft spring shower. She tilted her face to the sky and smiled. Mark may have broken her heart, but her spirit was still intact. She still had the ability to enjoy the simple things in life. Nice to know he hadn't been able to take that away.

Just as she stuck her key in the back door of the visitor center, it swung open. Suddenly she thudded back to reality as she came face-to-face with one of the reasons she'd wanted to stay home.

“Morning, Kristy.” Ace stood right inside the door, a travel mug of coffee in his hand. It figured that he was an early-morning person. Even though Kristy lived the closest, she was usually the last to arrive. Aside from her first cup of coffee, the only thing that saved her from being a total grump in the mornings was her walk to work. And even that wasn't powerful enough to make her glad to see him.

“Mornin'.” she wiggled her key out of the lock and brushed past him without a backward glance. One of her pet peeves was when she had her key in a lock and the door opened from the other side. After she'd gone to the trouble of fishing her keys out of the depths of her bag, she at least wanted to have the satisfaction of turning the lock. But it wasn't meant to be.

Before she headed out front to help get everything ready for the day, she stashed her purse and hat in the seasonal office. She didn't think of it as “her” office and doubted she ever would. To Kristy, the office that belonged to her would always be the one painted daffodil yellow, no matter whose name was on the door. And no matter who was in there drinking coffee. Besides, Mason's monogrammed L.L. Bean backpack sitting in the middle of the floor let her know that her time of having an office to herself was over.

Thankfully, she was spared from having much interaction with Ace as the morning progressed. The schedule on the wall showed that he was working in the archives all day. Not that she was checking, of course, but she was glad she wouldn't be seeing much of him. It might not be a lot, but she'd take a bright spot wherever she could get it.

“Good morning, Mason.” since today was Matthew's day off, she didn't have to glance at his name badge to know which twin she was speaking to.

“Hi, Miss Kristy.” He grinned shyly. From the short time she'd spent with them yesterday, she'd determined that Matthew was the outgoing brother. Mason hung back and let his brother do the talking. Having two days without his brother to rely on would probably be good for him.

“Now don't make me feel like an old lady.” she smiled to show she was teasing. “Just Kristy will be fine.” “sorry.” He blushed bright red.

Bless his heart. “Tell you what. Why don't you spend the morning in the office, reading about the battle? There are two great editions of
Blue and Gray
magazine that will tell you everything you need to know.”

He nodded and followed her into the office.

She pulled the magazines off the shelf and put them in front of him. “Just be thankful there's not going to be a death march this summer.” she grinned.

“A
death march?”
He looked worried. “What's that?”

She leaned against the desk. “Every few summers, our park historian takes the seasonals and any new permanent staff on a two-day outing fondly called ‘the death march.' it's awful. Basically, we march the entire battlefield, looking at each position as the soldiers would've done. You learn a lot but will never be so tired or have such blisters on your feet. Over the two days, you march nearly twenty-four hours.” she shook her head. “But it does give you new appreciation for what the soldiers went through.”

“But we're not going to do that this year?” he asked hopefully.

“You're off the hook this summer. But if I were you, I'd learn as much as I could from those magazines. That way Hank won't change his mind.”

When she left, he was totally engrossed in his reading.

She had just greeted the first visitor of the day when Hank burst through the front door. She took one look at his red face and hoped she wasn't going to be on the receiving end of his anger. He swept past her and called for Owen.
Whew.

“The movie will begin in five minutes,” she told the family standing at the desk once they had paid their fees. As soon as they were out of sight, she peeked around the corner to see what was going on outside Owen's office.

“I've already informed Ace of the situation,” Hank said.

From their serious expressions, Kristy could tell something big was going on.

Before she could make her way back to the desk, Hank spotted her. “Kristy.”

“Yes?” she stepped into the common area outside the offices where they were standing.

“It's happened again.” Hank took his hat off and swiped his hand across his forehead.

“Spray paint?”

“Yeah. This time they hit the Missouri Monument.” Concern was etched in every line on Hank's face. The fact that the park had been struck again was a bad sign. Vandalism was a big deal at Shiloh. The monuments were very well maintained, but when something happened to one, it was costly to fix.

“When did it happen?”

“Must've been overnight. Ace said he was out there yesterday afternoon and didn't notice anything.” Hank put his hat back on his head and took a deep breath. “I'm about to go meet with Mr. Bramblett. I know there were several hundred people through here yesterday, but before I tell him, I thought I'd check to see if anyone noticed any unusual activity.” Kristy didn't envy his job. Given Arnie's reaction the last time, he wouldn't take this news very well.

“I didn't see anything unusual. Not that I can think of, anyway.” The only strange thing Kristy had seen lately was Ace being in charge of her Junior Ranger Program. And Mark on her caller ID. Come to think of it, maybe it had been a strange week all the way around.

Owen nodded in agreement. “Me neither. And I was out in the park most of the day. How about Steve? Did he notice anything while he was on patrol?”

Hank shook his head. “He didn't see anything. Says he didn't make any traffic stops. He figures whoever did it probably parked off-site and came in by foot.” incidents in the park were few and far between, so Kristy figured Steve was probably disappointed not to have finally seen some action. Especially with the turkey-chasing incident from last week still hanging over him.

The theory made sense. The park was over four thousand acres, so it was impossible for law enforcement to be everywhere at once. If someone wanted to remain unseen, he could have easily walked off the beaten path and not been visible from the paved roads where Steve drove his patrol car. And the week of Memorial Day was such a heavy traffic week, it would've been easy to blend in if someone wanted to be up to no good.

“Well, just keep your eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.” Hank stepped to the back door. “I'm going to break the news to Arnie. See you later.”

Kristy looked at Owen. “Who would keep doing something like this? And why?” she noticed the wall clock and remembered the movie. In the excitement, she'd gotten a couple of minutes off track. She walked out to the desk and grabbed the remote.

Owen dropped into step beside Kristy as she went to start the show. “There's no telling who's behind the mischief. Like I said before, it's probably just some kid who thinks they're being funny.”

She ushered a few straggling visitors into the theater and pressed Play. What kind of person would think damaging a monument at a national park was funny?

Ace Kennedy riffled through some files, quickly glancing at each one. If only he could spend all his time in the archives. He knew some people would find this room boring. He grinned. Nothing could be further from the truth. The letters, journals, detailed information about artifacts that had been found on the battlefield ... every last piece of the past chronicled here came alive when he picked up a document to read it. This place was a history lover's dream.

Not only that, but working in the archives gave him some distance from Kristy. He'd hoped she'd be used to the idea of him occupying her old office by now, but when he saw her this morning, she'd glared at him. Why did he keep doing the wrong thing where she was concerned? First on the bus tour, then with the family wanting Junior Ranger information. He pushed away the thought. He'd long ago resolved to either change something or let it go. He'd tried to follow through with that the night of the stakeout. But even bluntness hadn't changed anything with Kristy. That left letting it go.

He pulled out a pile of photocopied letters. The top one caught his eye and he skimmed the contents. Penned by the wife of a Confederate soldier, the letter had been used in the soldier's defense at his desertion trial. She'd written to her husband and told him their children were starving and if he didn't come home, they would die.
Talk about a guilt trip.
Ace folded the letter and dropped it back into the file. No wonder the poor man had deserted the army. Ace wondered if the man had been charged or if the letter had been enough to set him free. Unfortunately, he'd probably never know.

Knowing the deserting soldier's fate didn't matter—it wasn't important to Ace's mission—but it highlighted for him, again, the only real frustration of history. Sometimes it was impossible to find out how the story ended.

He spent the rest of the afternoon searching through the files. As he locked up, he fought against the feeling of failure. With the busy summer season in full swing now, he might not be able to spend much more time looking through the archives. But he wouldn't give up.
I'll find the information I'm looking for next time.