The Marine's New Family

Her first order of business was to get directions to the house. She had told Livie she would call the aunts when she got to Swansboro, but she wanted to do this on her own. She was glad that Livie had given her a key. There was no need to bother anyone. Besides, there had been too much fussing over her and doing for her lately, and she wanted to establish her independence again—something she had sorely missed the past eight months.

Spying the police station on a nearby corner, she pulled into an empty parking spot and reached for the aluminum cane that had been her constant companion since she had finished rehab. With some difficulty she stood up, leaning heavily on it. Her left leg was sore and stiff from the three hour drive, but she managed to keep her balance as she made her way slowly into the building.

“Can I help you?” The bald, portly man behind the outsize oak desk seemed distracted by something on the floor as he glanced up quickly at Tess, then back to the vicinity of his feet. She couldn’t see what the distraction was, but the man seemed very anxious about something down there.

“Yes, I’m looking for this address.” As Tess tried to hand him the paper, the man yelped and jumped to his feet. Startled, she moved back a few steps, wobbling as she grasped the cane firmly to keep from falling.

“Are you all right?” Surprise mingled with concern in her voice.

As he moved to the center of the room, shaking his leg, Tess spied the problem. A small turtle had attached itself to the police officer’s pant leg. Determination glinted in the turtle’s beady black eyes as the beak-like mouth maintained its firm grip, unwilling to release its prey until it had brought him down.

“Snapping turtle,” the officer puffed, continuing his awkward dance around the little room.

“Are you hurt?” For the life of her, Tess could not figure out how to help the poor man.

“No, just has the pant leg, not the skin.”

“Maybe if you tried to pull it off with your hands?” she ventured, on the verge of laughter as the dance became more comical by the second. For a big man he certainly could move.

“Not a good idea. Don’t want to rip the uniform.”

“Of course not,” Tess murmured, as she watched the duel between the man and the little snapping turtle continue.

This was just too funny and she worked hard to keep her face free of any expression other than polite concern. She had to admit she had smiled more since she had arrived in this picturesque town than she had in the past eight months combined. Maybe Livie was right.

With one more mighty shake of his leg the officer managed to dislodge the gray-green turtle, which landed with a thud next to a shiny metal bench. He immediately went over to check the reptile to make sure it was not hurt. The turtle stared at them both accusingly and snapped its powerful little jaws once more, as if to make a point.

“Aw, he’s just fine. Good thing he’s a baby or I’d have never gotten the little critter off me. Fierce animals.”

“Is he a pet?”

“Well, now, I suppose you could say he was for about twelve hours or so. My wife found him in my son’s room this morning in a box, with a whole head of lettuce sitting next to him. Boy brings home every creature he finds.” The policeman shook his head, smiling broadly. “The wife threw out the lettuce, I got the turtle and the kid got another lecture on appropriate pets. It’s all good. Just can’t figure out how he got out of the box.”

“Are you sure he didn’t bite you?” Tess asked with concern. Animal bites could become easily infected.

“A small nip on the leg. No big deal.”

“I can look at it if you like,” she offered.

“You a doc?” He glanced at her with interest as he sat down behind the desk.

“No, physician assistant.”

“Close.” He seemed impressed. “Are you in town to apply for a position at the clinic? It’d be nice to finally get someone qualified in there. Real shame it’s only open every other Monday.”

Tess felt a brief stab of panic at the thought of working again. She was not sure she could ever go back to practicing medicine, no matter how much she loved what she did. She just didn’t have the heart for it any longer. She only wanted to forget, and that was an exercise in futility when the pain in her leg and the heavier pain in her heart reminded her each day. She used to believe that God had a plan for everyone. Not anymore. God hadn’t been there on that awful day, and if that was His plan, she could well do without it. She cleared the lump that had formed in her throat, before speaking.

“Sorry, but no. I do hope you find someone, though. Actually, I’m looking for directions to this address. Can you help me?” She handed the paper to the officer again. The dull ache in her leg reminded her that she had been standing on it a little too long.

“Sure can.” Taking the sheet, he glanced at it briefly. “You’re almost there. Just make a right at the next block and follow the road all the way to the end. Take the dirt road to your left and you’ll be there. It’s right on the water.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “Beautiful place, Moon Gate Cottage. You must be renting?”

“Something like that.” The cottage was actually Livie and Adam’s. From what her sister-in-law had told her, it was part of a cluster of cottages built by Livie’s great-grandparents as rental properties in the 1930s. Apparently, everyone in the family owned one of them now, but they were frequently rented out during the summer.

The policeman probably knew Livie—and definitely knew the aunts—so if Tess was going to have peace and quiet for the next few hours, she’d likely be best served by keeping her personal business private for now. Otherwise, if what she’d heard about Annie and Katie Salter was true, they’d be rushing over to make a fuss about her arrival.

“Well, my name is Joe Mason. If you need any help just call the station.” He quickly scribbled a number on the paper, slanting a quick glance at her cane.

“Tess Greenwood.” Extending her hand, she thanked him. “I hope the turtle finds a good home.” She couldn’t hide her smile as she remembered the frantic dance the large man had done a few minutes ago.

“He will. He’s going straight back to the marsh near the river where he belongs. Just need to get him and me there all in one piece.”

The officer moved to open the door for her and walked her to her car, keeping pace with her stiff movements.

“I mean it. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call. We’re a small community and we take care of each other.”

The sincerity in his voice was obvious and Tess did not doubt for an instant that he meant what he said, but the offer of help grated on her nerves. Everyone wanted to help and she was grateful, yet so irritated by the offers. She was not helpless. Better not to say anything at all. Besides, all she wanted right now was to put her leg up and take a nap. Suddenly, she was very tired.

“Thanks again.” She gave a small wave as she put the car in Reverse and headed in the direction of the cottage.

Less than ten minutes later Tess was sitting in her car looking at one of the most invitingly charming bungalows she had ever seen. From the blue-green patina of the aged copper roof to the pastel yellow paint that seemed to lovingly caress the outside walls, the place was enchanting. Several steps led to a wide front porch, which hosted the obligatory hanging flower baskets and rocking chairs that were so common at the homes in the village.

But this cottage went a step further. The white porch swing attached to the veranda roof was moving lazily with the gentle breeze. A colorful flag sporting a dolphin flapped gently from its perch on one of the white pillars that supported the porch. The velvety green yard was surrounded by a neat white picket fence. At the end of the driveway, directly in front of her, was a low stone wall covered in ivy and attached to the end of the house. The wall had a higher circular opening in the center that appeared to lead to a superbly tended garden.

The moon gate. Livie had told her about it. Legend had it that people who walked through a moon gate together, especially young lovers and honeymooners, were blessed with good luck. The sloping roof of the gate represented the half moon of Chinese summers, and each tile on it stood for long life, serenity and peace. But it was the view beyond the garden that caused Tess to catch her breath. Like the frame on a fine work of art, the round gate perfectly outlined the water glistening serenely a short distance away.

Entering the house, Tess drank it all in like a parched traveler at the end of a long desert crossing. Tranquillity was not a strong enough word to describe the place her sister-in-law had sent her to. Calm, quiet, zen, harmony and serenity were all apt descriptions. But there was something more in this special spot. Love immediately came to mind. It was obvious that the cottage had always been well loved. That showed everywhere she looked. The place was a peaceful oasis that was just what the doctor ordered for helping to heal a desperately hurt soul. At least Tess hoped so.

She wasn’t really concerned with the physical pain she was in. The leg would heal, leaving her with perhaps a slight limp or a nagging ache on rainy days. It was her faith she was worried about. She couldn’t seem to find her faith in God since that awful day. He had always been so much a part of her and now He just wasn’t there. She had given each day to Him. She had always given Him credit for all that happened in her life, good and bad. Bad things happened for a reason, she knew. God had a plan, always. But it defied logic that He would abandon a group of innocent children on the day they needed Him most.

She had no doubt that He was still here, still in this world where good and bad things happened. She just could not summon the strength that would bring her back to Him. Not right now. She was too angry. Would this place help her to find her way back to spiritual peace? Time would tell.

With a grateful sigh, she sank into a large overstuffed blue-and-white-striped chair, propping her leg on the ottoman in front of it. Bringing in the luggage could wait. Exploring further could also wait. Grabbing her cell phone out of her bag, she sent a quick text to Livie, simply saying Thank you, and received an equally simple and quick We love you in return.

Closing her eyes, Tess leaned her head back against the comfy chair. No better place for a quick nap. Exhausted by the day’s events and encouraged by the relief in her leg, she gently slid into sleep and began to dream.

Chapter Two

Though Tess fell asleep with a smile on her face, the smile soon faded as she was pulled back into the same horrible dream that had haunted her for months. The dream that replayed those awful events in Afghanistan.

The day had started so well. She and her team had been welcomed warmly when they’d arrived at the Afghan orphanage with their medical supplies. As a member of Hope Corps, Tess had spent the past several years of her life bringing medical relief to underprivileged countries. That day had seemed just like any other. But then it had all gone horribly wrong.

She had just finished vaccinating the four-year-old girl in front of her and was handing her a wrapped piece of candy when she felt the first explosion. Forcefully, she was sucked out of her chair as she instinctively reached for the child, gathering her close. As the air pressure equalized she fell to the floor, tucking the child beneath her in an attempt to shield her from whatever was happening around them.

Acrid smoke began to fill the room, making it difficult to breathe. Dimly, she heard the frightened cries of children and the urgent voices of several adults who were making an effort to comfort them. Tess slowly raised her head, scanning the room. It was difficult to see through the smoke, but she could make out glass everywhere. Glass and chaos. Both covered the room like fine glitter. Several women dressed in loose-fitting burkas were lying on the ground, crying and speaking rapidly in Farsi as they began to get up from where they had been thrown. Two of them started to gather children and usher them out of the room as quickly as possible. Where they were going, Tess had no idea, but she realized it was probably not a good idea to stay where she was. She felt a small wiggle beneath her and heard a faint whimper. The child was struggling feebly to get free. Tess looked down into wide brown eyes filled with fear.

“Are you all right?” she asked the little girl in stilted Farsi, and was reassured by the slight nod she received in response.

Mentally, she went over the layout of the orphanage, trying desperately to remember if there was an exit nearby. Where were her coworkers? Was anyone hurt? If so she needed to give medical aid quickly. Her thoughts were a jumbled mix. Taking a deep breath she murmured a brief prayer. Dear Lord, please help me to think clearly.

Immediately a sense of calm came over her as her thoughts cleared. Pushing herself up to a sitting position, she caught the eye of one of the Afghan women, who rushed over to take the little girl from her. As Tess was handing the youngster over, the second explosion sounded and the world caved in on top of them. The startled look of the woman who had just taken the little girl into her arms was the last thing Tess saw before losing consciousness.

To this day, she still didn’t know how long she’d spent lying there. In her dream, the transition was seamless. One moment, she was watching the world collapse around her. In the next moment, she heard a voice speaking over her head.

“She’s alive.” Tess heard the words before opening her eyes. The voice was deeply male and unfamiliar.

Who’s alive? Me? Am I? I don’t feel alive, she thought fuzzily, trying to make sense of what was being said above the incessant ringing in her ears. She struggled to open her eyes without success, opting gratefully for the blessed darkness that enveloped her again. She awoke to the sound of the same warm male voice, which seemed to wrap around her like a comforting blanket.

“Ma’am, hold on. United States Marines, and we are going to get you out of here.” The rich voice rumbled close to her ear. “Morgan, get help and lift this beam off of her.”

“Yes, Gunny. Baldwin, I need a hand over here.”

Such a nice voice. Marines? Tess fought again to open her eyes. Who called the marines?

“Ma’am, hang in there. Can you open your eyes?”

Slowly, she opened them and focused on the ruggedly handsome face of the man bending over her. Feature by feature she took him in. His head was encased in a tan-and-brown digital-patterned helmet, so she couldn’t tell the color of his hair, but his eyes were an incredible azure blue, set in sun-kissed chiseled features that sported a day’s growth of beard. There was something in those eyes that made her feel safe, a relaxed self-assurance that whatever was happening, he had the situation under control.

“Ma’am,” he said with a comforting smile. “I’m Gunnery Sergeant Luke Barrett. You’re an American?”

Tess nodded, wincing with pain as she moved her head.

“Try not to move too quickly. You have quite a bump on your head. We’ll get you help as soon as we get out of this building. It’s not safe to stay here.” Looking over his shoulder, he nodded to someone behind him before turning back to her and saying, “Okay, put your arms around my neck.”

Her eyes never left his face as she lifted her arms slowly. She was afraid to look around, afraid of what she knew she’d see. It could not be good, not by any stretch of the imagination. Part of the ceiling was gone. The bright light was sunshine. That much she could tell. And she was cold, very cold. The smoke was gone and she could breathe, but each breath made her feel as if shards of broken glass were grating against each other inside her chest.

The marine gently lifted her out of the wreckage as though she weighed no more than a child. She felt the rough material of his camouflaged uniform and hard body armor beneath her cheek as she clasped her arms around his neck. Pain. Remarkably intense pain jabbed at her legs like a thousand hot needles piercing her flesh. She stifled a groan as, with a Herculean effort, she tightened her grip. He was her lifeline and she was determined not to let go, even for an instant. She noted a fleeting look of concern shadow his face as he felt her stiffen in response to the hurt. With grim determination and quiet confidence he began to move through the rubble of what this morning had been a building filled with the excited shouts of children as Tess and her coworkers arrived to set up their mobile medical unit. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Clarity washed over her with all the force of a massive tsunami. The children! The little girl she had held close after the first explosion. Was she all right? Tess looked back at the place she had been lying, her pain forgotten. The child had been right in front of her, had just left her arms. Desperately, Tess scanned what was left of the room. It was now nothing more than a twisted heap of concrete, glass and wooden beams. Impossible for anyone to have survived the carnage. She had no idea how she had survived. Then she caught sight of something that caused her heart to splinter. A small arm poked through the wreckage, palm open, revealing a piece of brightly wrapped candy.

Tears began to stream down Tess’s face. Shifting in the marine’s arms, she struggled to ask him to stop, to go back, but her voice refused to obey as deep physical and emotional pain combined, causing her to slip into unconsciousness once more.

Usually, the dream ended there—or worse, started over at the beginning, to play through again. But today she heard a familiar voice say some entirely unexpected things.

“I thought I heard someone come in. Groceries are all put away and the furniture is on the porch. Why did you use the front door?”

Tess heard the marine talking again, just as she had heard him in her dreams for endless nights since he had pulled her out of the wreckage. His voice was always deep and soothing as he assured her he would make certain she was safe. She would never forget his voice. Only this time he was talking about groceries and furniture. Well, that’s a twist on the same old nightmare, she thought in her dream state. Why in the world is he talking about groceries? Funny. Nuzzling her cheek against the soft fabric, she fought to catch hold of the dream to see what he was talking about, not wanting to wake till she found out.

* * *

Luke stopped short as he entered the cozy living room, his voice trailing away. He had entered the room expecting to see one of the Salter sisters, back from whatever last-minute errands they’d undertaken to prepare the cottage for their guest. The woman he found instead stopped him in his tracks. Stunned, he stood there, looking at the sleeping woman as if he had seen a ghost. She was a ghost, really. He’d never thought she would survive her wounds, she had been so critically injured when he had found her in the remains of that charred, ruined Afghan orphanage.

For a moment he thought she might be someone else, that he had been mistaken. But no, the same auburn hair glistened in the sunlight that streamed through the window near where she slept. She had the same fine porcelain skin, small straight nose and full pink lips that he remembered so clearly. Luke knew that beneath the closed lids were eyes the color of deep green jade. He had memorized her face and it had haunted him day and night. As his eyes continued to trace her features, he stopped at the small scar on her left temple. It had bled so much, but she had made it. Despite all her injuries, and the huge odds stacked against her, she had lived. Thank You, Lord. The prayer was silent and heartfelt.

Luke’s mind tripped back to that day he had carried her out of the orphanage. It was as though it had happened yesterday.

Holding her securely in his arms, he knew that she had seen the child partially covered by the wreckage, but he had no intention of stopping or going back. It would do no good. His mission was to get her out and to safety. He could not help the dead, but he was determined to help the living. The pain on the woman’s face was something Luke knew he would never forget. Senseless death was difficult enough to witness, but the senseless death of children was intolerable. Concern and empathy touched him deeply as he glanced down at the dark auburn head lying against his shoulder, but he needed to get her out of there.

Looking around, he mentally calculated the safest path out and picked his way through the debris. As he stepped across a pile of concrete rubble into the cold, bright sunlight he noticed the woman wince, and he lifted a heavily gloved hand to shield her jade-green eyes from the glare of the sun. He quickly scanned the area for medical personnel and called for a corpsman.

“Doc, we need help. This patient’s bleeding pretty badly.”

Luke gently lowered the woman to the hard, arid ground as the medical officer made his way over to them. He stepped back as the corpsman knelt next to the injured female and began a cursory examination, starting with the wound on her head and working his way down to her lower extremities and then back up to her skull again. Luke noticed her grimace with pain as the medic probed the gash on her temple gently, trying to stop the bleeding.

“How bad is it, Doc?” Luke knew her situation was serious, but had no idea how grave it really was.

“Honestly, Gunny, it’s not good, but it’s not the head wound I’m most concerned about. There may be internal injuries, and her left leg has a pretty serious break. Femur. Not pretty, and she’s in a lot of pain. It’s what we can’t see that bothers me, though. I have no idea if she’s bleeding out.” He never looked up as he spoke, instead reaching into a medical kit and pulling out a bag, a battery-powered IV pump, tubing and needles.

“Can I help?” Luke lowered himself next to the corpsman, his eyes focused intently on the woman’s face.

“No, but someone’s going to have to carry her down this mountain to a safe zone. There is no way that a helo can land in this terrain.” The corpsman had already inserted a needle into the woman’s arm and attached tubing as he spoke. “Ringer’s lactate with a morphine push,” he explained to Luke as he worked next on immobilizing the broken leg.

“I’ll carry her. Just make sure she’s good to go, Doc.”

“I’ll carry her, Gunny,” Corporal Baldwin offered. Luke hadn’t notice him standing there, he had been so caught up in what the navy corpsman was doing.

“No, Baldwin. I’ve got this.”

The young marine looked at him oddly for a moment and then walked away without another word.

“She’s ready to be moved now,” the corpsman said a minute later. “We need to get her out of here, fast.”

Luke nodded and knelt to pick the woman up gently, balancing the portable IV pack securely against his chest. It wasn’t going to be an easy trip down the mountain by any stretch of the imagination, and the less pain she was in the better.

The journey was rough, but he never really gave that part another thought. She would periodically open her eyes and focus on his face. He had no idea if she could hear him, but part of him felt that she could. So he talked to her. He talked about anything and everything he could think of. He told her about his life at home. He told her about two special elderly ladies who had welcomed him into their lives and hearts, making a home for him, the first he had had in years—maybe ever. He told her about a village on the coast of North Carolina where he wanted to live for the rest of his days.