Read Two Days Of A Dream Online
Authors: Kathryn Gimore
He had made it clear he didn't want her there, though. He probably preferred being alone. The cold stone type usually did.
Coleman dragged her outside and away from her musing. Kelly’s mind whirred around trying to find a good enough reason to go back to Cap. She stopped herself; this just wouldn't do. She certainly didn’t want a cold stone. But if she felt like this now, how would she feel if she actually liked the guy? The thought made her shiver.
Kelly let Coleman lead her to Larsen, who waited for them. He tied the flaps open and shepherded them away from the gentle snores that floated on the light breeze.
They made the second turn away from Cap …er… Cap's tent, she corrected herself. Ahead, some soldiers milled around a short line outside a large tent.
Larsen cleared his throat. "Hey, it’s ... uh ... chow time. Why don't we eat before you two go back to your tent?"
"I
am
hungry, how about you?" Coleman turned to Kelly.
Both soldiers stared intently at her.
Kelly wasn't really hungry, but she didn't want to cause Coleman any more problems. "Sure, I could eat something."
They got in line behind four guys who smiled and eyed Coleman with too much interest and Larsen scowled, saying nothing.
"Hi, Coleman," the men chorused.
She looked up, her volume on low. "Hi." She turned her back to them with her eyes on the ground.
Kelly thought the guys were cute and wanted to talk to them.
Coleman’s eyes wildly scanned the ground around her feet. "Um ... uh ... How'd you get out of my tent?"
Larsen turned his full attention to Kelly; he, too, seemed to want answers.
Kelly glanced over Coleman’s shoulder. "Well ..."
A medium-sized soldier with big, blue eyes that twitched between Coleman and Kelly leaned around the guy behind him. "Hey, Coleman, did you ever find the blonde in the nightgown?"
The other guys turned their full attention back to the women.
The beautiful private set her jaw. "Yeah Maybry, I did."
"Is this the elusive mystery woman who's invaded our camp?"
He looked Kelly up and down, his eyes lingering on the gown in her arms.
At least it had better be the gown he stared at,
she fumed.
Larsen stepped up nose to nose with the husky Marine. "Back off, Maybry, Kelly's a guarded infiltrator, and the colonel wouldn't appreciate your interference."
"Yeah, she looks like an infiltrator." Maybry stepped around Larsen. "Kelly? I like that name. Any time you want to infiltrate my space, you are more than welcome."
"Back off, Maybry." Larsen's voice took on a deep timbre, a surprise coming out of his boyish face.
"Okay, okay, Larsen. Don't get your tighty-whities in a twist. It was nice meeting you, Kelly. Sorry I missed the negligee." With a last grin at Coleman he retook his place in line as it moved up.
"He wasn't too bad," Kelly whispered.
Coleman seemed to assess Kelly’s sanity from the corner of her eye. "He's no number three."
"Well, true." Kelly wouldn't have married him, but flirting might have been fun.
Coleman sighed. "He's more a number four than anything."
Kelly laughed.
Larsen kept his eye on Maybry. "What's a number four and three?"
"A number three is a husband, a number four is a child." Kelly whispered.
Larsen grinned but didn't say anything.
The line moved again and they entered the tent. Inside, the babble hushed and all eyes turned to them.
Kelly leaned over to Coleman. "Do they do this every time you come in?"
"I don't think they're looking at me."
"They have to be looking at you. You're a conversation stopper. I'm more of a crowd disperser."
Larsen leaned into their whisper. "Your being here is a secret, so of course, everyone knows about it. You're the talk of the camp. I bet they're disappointed you're not wearing the gown."
"I'm not disappointed." Kelly hugged the satin tighter.
With their trays filled, they went to one of the long, empty tables. Coleman put her prisoner between her and Larsen as if she were afraid the smaller woman would run off. Kelly sensed the real problem was Coleman being afraid to sit next to Larsen.
Kelly eyed the globs that had been dumped on her tray. "What's this?" she asked as Coleman and Larsen dug in.
Coleman swallowed. "I've learned not to ask."
"Ah, this reminds me of my collage days." She ate and it didn't taste too bad. Just as she remembered, ignorance could be bliss.
It surprised Kelly how sensory this dream was. The taste, the smell, and the feel of the lumps as she chewed seemed so real.
Kelly didn't notice at first, but the crowd grew so quickly they were soon hard to miss. Like walls springing up around them, they were blocked in, and the air grew thin. The only movement was that of the group breaths, in and out. She was almost swayed side to side with it.
At first they just stood and stared. Not
too
bad, it just made it hard for Kelly to swallow gracefully. But when they started sitting down around them she was thankful she had Coleman and Larsen on either side.
An Asian looking soldier sat across from Kelly. He put his elbows on the table and twined his long fingers above the empty dishes on his tray. His name tag read, Smith. She liked that everyone was tagged so she didn't have to remember all their names.
"Are you the woman who was found in Captain Duran's bed?" Apparently, Smith was the group spokesman.
Kelly swallowed. "Yes."
The human walls murmured and someone shushed them.
"Is it true you don't know how you got here?"
All went still.
"Yes." She took another bite.
Quiet murmurs popped up here and there.
"Do you have amnesia?"
Quiet.
"Nope."
A big black man leaned over Smith. His tag read Tabler. "They're saying you're a spy."
"Who’s they?" Kelly reined in her humor and quashed a laugh.
"Mostly the Intel guys." There was a pause. "Well?"
"Well, what?" She took a swig of her drink.
"Are you a spy?"
To her embarrassment she couldn't help the laughter that spewed Smith with water.
"No! Although I can keep a secret," Kelly dabbed appalageticly at Smith's face with her napkin. "I don't know how to shoot a gun, and I don't have any cool gadgets. Sorry."
"Then what are you?" Smith seemed to enjoy her attention.
"I'm a marketing analyst from Lincoln, Nebraska."
Tabler huffed. "That's it?"
"Yep."
A blond baby face pushed closer. "That could just be your cover."
She snickered. "I'd say it’s a pretty good cover, because it even has me fooled."
When a guy detached from the wall and put his hand on Kelly’s shoulder, she jumped with a yelp. Larsen and Coleman both leapt up and knocked the guy back into the pulsing wall.
"Stay back!" Larsen ordered.
"Sorry man, I just wanted to tell her I'm from Nebraska, too."
Coleman narrowed her eyes. "That's fine but
no
touching!"
The walls moved back. Coleman's reputation had definitely gotten around.
Kelly heard someone whisper. "Here comes Major Turner." Both her guards groaned.
"Who's this Turner?"
"A little problem."
"How little of a problem?"
Larsen filled his mouth and studied his tray intently, not lifting his head whenever he glanced up between shovels. “Kelly,” he ordered around a mouthful, “eat.”
The walls parted, and a small man flanked by two taller and younger men stomped up to their table.
"What's going on here?" the small one boomed, and Kelly realized this had to be Turner, ‘the little problem.’
Apparently, he made up for his short stature with volume. He struck Kelly as the self-important type. Blond and fair skinned, he looked as though he had crawled out of a cave. Desk jockey was her guess. His thick glasses made his dull, brown eyes frog-like.
"Private Coleman and I are guarding Kelly and we're eating lunch, sir." Larsen motioned to the three of them.
He spewed his words over the crowd. "Then what are the rest of you doing standing around?" Turner glared at the group.
The crowd dispersed, most leaving the tent grumbling. Smith stayed seated, his attention glued on Kelly.
"What are you still doing here, Smith?"
"I'm eating, too." The young NCO smiled.
Turner narrowed his eyes. "You look done to me."
Smith looked at his empty dishes. "Yes, sir." He dragged himself off the chair.
It was nice having the gawking crowd gone, but Major Turner immediately took Smith's seat. He gave Kelly the creeps.
"Now that the unruly crowd is taken care of … you must be the mystery woman I've heard so much about."
Coleman and Larsen went back to eating. They weren't going to be any help.
"I guess I am."
"I heard that you claim to not know how you got here." He crossed his arms over his thin chest and settled back, making himself at home.
"Well -"
He leered down his nose at her. "And that you were found in Captain Duran's bed."
"Yeah, uh -"
"They also said you were wearing a slinky negligee." He waggled his eyebrows.
"Uh -"
"Ah, come on, you can't be serious." He waved one hand imperiously.
Kelly sat back in the chair and folded her arms. He didn't want to hear what she had to say; he just wanted to hear his own voice. Her first assessment was right and she felt smug,
I've still got it
.
"I'm surprised you and Duran couldn’t come up with a better story than that." He took a quick breath. "If it were me, I could have come up with something far better." …Breath… "Maybe a midnight raid where you were rescued. Damsel in distress is always better than '
I don't know.’
And I always thought Duran was smart." …Breath... "Well, I think I should take over guarding the prisoner; this is obviously a job for an officer."
"What! You've got to be kidding!" Kelly wound up,
it’s time to tell this pompous -
Larsen placed his hand on her arm and squeezed before stacking his dishes and pushing his tray away. Larsen cleared his throat. "Major Turner, sir. With all due respect, sir, Private Coleman is under strict orders from Colonel Broan. And as you know, if those orders are to be changed, they must come directly from the colonel."
Turner sputtered. "I'm sure the colonel won't mind if I ... protect the prisoner."
"Well sir, that's between you and Colonel Broan, I'm only a sergeant. Meanwhile, we're done eating, and I have strict orders to accompany these two back to the women's compound."
Coleman rushed Kelly out of her seat.
Larsen took his time rising. "If the colonel does change his mind, just send word to Private Coleman, and she'll be glad to bring Kelly to you." He picked up his tray. "Oh, will you excuse us, sir?"
Turner was deep in thought. "Yes." He waved them away. Turner's screwed-up face looked as though he hurt from the lone thought.
Kelly didn't look back but could feel the Major’s eyes on her. She and Coleman slipped out of the tent first. It seemed like hours before Larsen meandered out. He continued the ridiculously slow speed with his hands in his pockets, whistling.
Whistling, really?
The two women turned a corner and waited for him. Kelly decided he would go faster even if she had to carry him. But that became unnecessary when Larsen’s second step around the corner was the beginning of a sprint.
"Come on, slow pokes!" he taunted.
With some effort, the women caught up with him around the next turn, where he slowed down.
Coleman wasted no time, and punched his arm.
"Ouch! What was that for?"
"Why'd you go so slow? He could have changed his mind!"
Larsen rubbed his arm. "Turner doesn't have a mind to change, the jerk." He nudged Kelly forward, still massaging his bicep. "Come on, we have to get you back to Coleman's tent."
"Why?"
"Because he just might figure out that a Major can supersede the colonel's orders if he wants to. He’d just have to come up with a good reason to give the colonel. Turner's so self-involved he doesn't even understand the rules fully. Cap doesn't like him, either."