Off Limits (22 page)

Shaken, Alex whispered, “Jim, that's wonderful!”

“There's more,” he said, his voice mirroring hope. “Lieutenant Breckenridge said the bad conduct discharge would be lifted. The board will more than likely give me an honorable discharge or a medical one. Either way, it would mean I could get my GI benefits back to help pay my college tuition.”

“And you wouldn't have to work two jobs,” Alex added excitedly. “How soon will you know?”

“The skipper said the board would convene in early January. I don't have to be present. The board will review all the old testimony, hear Whitman's side, and make a decision. I'll be notified by mail.”

“What a great New Year's gift.”

“Now, don't count on this, gal,” he warned heavily. “What it comes down to is the board believing Captain Johnson's testimony or believing Gunny Whitman.”

Alex knew that the gunny sergeants in the Marine Corps served as fulcrum points between officers and enlisted men. If there was such a thing as a backbone to the corps, it came in the guise of the gunnys. “They'll believe Whitman,” she said fervently. “I just
know
they will.”

He grinned. “I hope you're right....”

* * *

Jim was in the kitchen helping Alex make dinner when the phone rang. She dried her hands on a towel and picked up the wall phone near the kitchen door.

“Hello?”

“Alex, this is your father.”

Her heart plunged. His voice sounded ragged and edgy. Since that fateful day he'd shown up unexpectedly, she'd talked only to her mother. Her mouth suddenly dry, Alex glanced over at Jim, who was still busy chopping lettuce.

“Father. It's nice to hear from you.”

Jim looked up sharply, the knife stilled in midair. He saw Alex's face blanch of all color, her eyes go dark. Compressing his lips, he turned and waited to hear the rest of the conversation.

“Alex, your mother and I want you home for the holiday. I've ordered one of my assistants to get you a plane reservation on TWA for two days from now.”

Jim saw the anguish in Alex's eyes. Automatically, he moved to her side and placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. He could see the devastating effect of whatever had been said. What was her bastard of a father up to now? He tried to control his anger and remain still while Alex spoke.

“Father...I can't—”

“Why, Alex? Because of
him?

“Even if I could come home, he'd be with me, Father.”

“We invited you, not him!”

“Please,” Alex begged, “don't start shouting at me. It doesn't help anything!”

“I'm sorry, Alex. Look, there are other reasons for you to come home.”

“What? Is something wrong with Mother?”

“No. It's Case. He's been given orders to ship over with his marine squadron. Shortly after Christmas, he's leaving for Da Nang. He'll be flying F-4 Phantoms out of there in support activities with the ground forces.”

“Oh, dear....”

“You've got to come home, Alex. This will be your last chance to see Case before he ships out. He wants to see you, but not with McKenzie.”

Alex felt Jim's hand on her shoulder. “First of all, I've got plans to go home with Jim to visit his folks in Missouri,” Alex said hoarsely. “We've already got airline tickets....” Her voice dropped in anguish.

“So cancel the damned tickets, Alex! You belong at home with us. With your older brother! What if Case gets killed in action? You will have missed the opportunity—”

Alex covered her mouth with her hand to hold back a cry. The very real possibility of Case getting killed slammed through her. She struggled and found her voice. “Father, that's not fair! It hurts me. I—I won't come home. Not for Christmas.”

“Dammit, Alex, don't be so stubborn! That man isn't your shadow!”

“No,” she rasped unsteadily, “he isn't.” Alex was well aware of Jim's dark, concerned look for her. “But I happen to love him, Father, and he's part of my life whether you approve or not.”

“Well, Case is going to be terribly disappointed in you, Alex. You're forsaking your own brother for that bastard! What kind of daughter are you, anyway?”

Pain ripped through Alex. Gathering every bit of her shredded courage, she whispered, “I love Case very much, Father. If he wants to see me before he goes, he can come to Missouri. Or he can call. Mother has Mrs. McKenzie's phone number.”

“I'm very disappointed in you, Alex.”

“I know. I've known it all my life.”

The phone line went dead. Her father had hung up on her.

Alex shut her eyes.

Jim took the receiver from her hand and placed it back on the wall. Gently, he gripped her by the shoulders. “What happened?”

Blinking back her tears, Alex tried to smile, but couldn't. She told Jim everything, watching as hurt came into his eyes. Knotting her fists against his chest, she cried, “This isn't fair, Jim! It just isn't fair! Why can't Father accept you, and how I want to live my life?”

“Because,” Jim said grimly, gathering Alex in his arms, “he wants to control you like he does the rest of his family.” After holding her for a long time in silence, he looked down at her. “Would you rather go home to see Case? I wouldn't mind.”

Her love for him tripled. “I don't know what to do, Jim. Father's pride is in the way, but so is mine. I refuse to go home without you. And yet, do I refuse to see Case, to not say goodbye to him?” Alex buried her face in the folds of his shirt, hearing his heart—a steady, calming beat—against her ear.

“Sweet woman, whatever your decision, I'll stand by you. Seeing Case is more important. He doesn't deserve to be penalized just because of your father—or because of my actions.”

“Don't say that!” Alex looked up through her veil of tears. “This isn't your fault. I don't accept that, Jim. I never will. Remember? I'm the one who was out there in that jungle with you. I'm not about to abandon you in face of my damned father's emotional blackmail. And what I hate most is that Case is a pawn in all of this—that Father is using him.”

“He's using Case to hurt you because you love me, Alex.”

Miserably, Alex wiped her eyes. “I know it,” she said, her voice wobbling.

It was on the tip of his tongue to say that Hiram Vance loved no one but himself, that he manipulated the members of his family like a puppeteer, and the family merely reacted in a knee-jerk fashion. Anger, hot and startling, sizzled through Jim. Alex was a victim of her father's hatred of him. As much as Jim wished that his past wouldn't interfere, it was, once again.

“You can go home, Alex.”

She shook her head. “No! I won't give Father the satisfaction. I won't!” Gazing up at him, Alex whispered, “I want to go home with you. We deserve this time together. I love your mother and father almost as if they were my own.”

“Okay,” Jim said, his voice cracking, “we'll go home—together.”

* * *

“Welcome, welcome, welcome!” Tansy McKenzie called from the wooden porch of their Ozark cabin, surrounded by trees that had shed their leaves for the coming winter. Dressed in a simple cotton dress and bright red apron, the petite woman had never looked happier.

Alex climbed out of the rented car and waved. Some of her depression lifted as Jim's mother, who was in her mid-sixties, moved gingerly off the porch. The evening was upon them, the sky a darkening blue and cloudless, the air brisk.

“Hi, Ma!” Alex greeted her excitedly as she shut the car door. As she walked toward Tansy, Alex wished with all her heart that she could experience such obvious love and warmth from her own family. But somehow, as she reached out and hugged Jim's mother, Alex felt the invisible load she carried on her shoulders lighten.

“Oh, you look wonderful!” Tansy bubbled, holding Alex at arm's length. “Lordy, you're more purty than ever before!” she declared, her eyes twinkling. She released Alex as Jim approached. “Hello, son. Welcome home!”

Jim embraced his mother. He was so tall and lean in comparison to Tansy.

Alex smiled her welcome as John McKenzie approached. As always, he was dressed in bib overalls and a plaid flannel shirt. His head was bald, and he wore an ancient pair of spectacles far down on his hawklike nose. It was the merriment in his eyes that made Alex smile even wider.

“Hi, Mr. McKenzie. Merry Christmas.” Alex offered her hand. A handshake was all she had ever shared with Jim's reserved father. Unlike Tansy, John remained somewhat distant. Alex respected his need for formality, so it was with great surprise—and pleasure—that she saw the tall, lanky man open his arms.

“Welcome home, Alexandra,” he said gruffly, hugging, then quickly releasing her.

Welcome home.
The words rang sweetly, and Alex beamed. “Thank you, Mr. McKenzie.”

“Call me John. No sense standin' on ceremony.”

“I'd love to,” Alex admitted, surprised yet thrilled by his decision. She saw John's severe-looking features soften even more as Jim approached. Alex held back tears as she saw the warmth, pride and love pass between father and son. When John McKenzie embraced his son, it was with enthusiasm and obvious delight. If Alex had any doubts about her decision to come to the Missouri Ozarks for Christmas, they were laid to rest now. As she looked around, she realized there wasn't a dry eye among them.

Sniffing, Tansy gripped Alex's hand. “Well, ya'll come in! It's chilly out here, and we've got a roarin' fire inside. Come!”

The interior of the cabin was filled with wonderful odors, and Alex smiled over at Jim as they took off their coats.

“I'm starved, Ma.”

Tansy poked at her son's ribs. “Jim, yore lookin' a mite thin. Four days of home cookin' is what you need.”

“Son, you look like a starvin' cow brute to me,” John noted wryly as he ambled toward the living room.

Jim put his arm around Alex and grinned. “Well, if it weren't for this gal, I'd look a lot worse, believe me.”

Tansy nodded and winked over at Alex. “Honey, will you help me set the table? The pheasants are done cookin', and I've got everything timed for half an hour from now.”

“Pheasants?”

“Shore,” John said, settling back in a black-walnut rocker near the potbellied stove. “I went huntin' wild turkey this mornin', but they outsmarted me. A couple of dumb pheasants sittin' in my neighbor's cornfield didn't, though.”

“I've never had pheasant,” Alex admitted, content with country living.

“Tastes better than any ol' store-bought chicken, that's for sure,” Tansy said as she led her to the kitchen. She opened a drawer and handed Alex a green apron. “Here, put this on a'fore you get food all over that purty outfit of yores.”

Alex blushed. Her jeans and soft pink sweater were hardly special. She looked across the small kitchen, the counter space filled with delicacies. “I'm so glad to be here, Ma.”

Blotting her eyes with a handkerchief, Tansy smiled. “You belong here, Alexandra.”

Alex smiled, feeling teary-eyed herself as she took the flatware handed to her. The table was in the kitchen, hand hewn from walnut and carefully crafted. The cloth, a pale yellow linen, was obviously old and lovingly cared for. Putting the heavy ceramic plates at each place, Alex fell into a kind of unspoken rhythm with Tansy.

“Me and Pa were hopin' like the dickens you two young 'uns could make it back here for the holiday,” Tansy said with a smile.

Alex watched as Jim's mother brought three lightly browned pheasants out of the oven. The kitchen was hot from the wood-burning iron stove. Freshly baked bread sat up above in the warmer.

“I agree with Jim,” Alex said, helping move the stuffed birds to a huge white platter. “There's no place like home for the holidays.”

“Yes, and with the way that boy of ours has been workin', I've been worried. He's not putting on much weight.”

No one worked harder than Jim. Alex patted Tansy's tiny shoulder. “He's driven.”

“I know, I know. It's as if his past is a shadow on his heels or somethin'.” Tansy stood back and looked at the birds, a pleased expression on her thin features.

“Those two jobs he has get him up at six o'clock, and he doesn't get home until midnight,” Alex confided. She brightened and met Tansy's worried blue eyes. “Did you know Jim just got a scholarship?”

“No!”

Alex laughed. “I think he'll be able to quit his night job soon because of the grant money.”

“Maybe things are starting to turn around for you two young 'uns.” Then Tansy muttered, “I still worry. Here, would you like to carry in the birds? John sure peppered the heck out of them. You'd think he was afraid they might fly away after the first burst of buckshot. No, he had to pepper them twice. I hope I got all those pellets dug out of them 'fore I baked them. Just tell everyone to eat carefully. I don't want no broken tooth complaints.”

Before long, the table was ladened with food, and they all sat down. Tansy said a short prayer and everyone settled down to eat. She'd prepared mouth-watering homemade bread, black walnut stuffing, gooseberry Jell-O, baked potatoes from the garden out back of the cabin and spiced crab apples with cranberries. Alex didn't realize how hungry she'd become. To her consternation, she ate nearly as much as Jim.

For dessert, Tansy proudly produced a squash pie and freshly whipped cream. Cream, she informed Alex, that had been skimmed off the top of milk produced by Bessy, their guernsey cow. As Alex sat enjoying the food and company, she was struck by the simplicity of the McKenzies as opposed to her own family. Everything on the Vance table would have been catered. The food here tasted better, more alive, and the kitchen was a place of so many mouth-watering fragrances.

Afterward, Tansy herded Alex and Jim out of the kitchen. John lit his corncob pipe, sat down in his rocker near the stove in the living room and listened to the antique radio in the corner by the small, brightly lit Christmas tree. Even now, the McKenzies had no television. Alex tried to help Tansy in the kitchen, but she wouldn't hear of it.