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Steadfast Soldier Page 11
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Midnight danced around Brock’s ankles until he stopped what he was doing to pet the dog. “Hey, buddy.”
Chloe knelt near where Chance checked taillights on the trailer. “You sure Midnight will be okay on the boat?”
“As sure as I am that you’re more beautiful than that gorgeous boat.” His nearness and lopsided grin as his gaze brushed her lips flushed her face. “Midnight’s a web-footed, sleek-coated, water-loving dog, remember?” He winked at her then eyed the Lab, content under Brock’s affection.
“Sometimes I forget. Just like you forget that this fishing trip is among friends.”
“Spoilsport,” Chance said, still grinning, and rose.
Brock approached with an arsenal of fishing lures, poles, reels and the biggest tackle box Chloe’d ever seen. “Hello, ladies.” He nodded to Chloe then her mother. “You must be Mary. Mandy speaks highly of you.”
Mary nodded. “Nice to meet you, Brock. You must be serious about fishing.” She bug-eyed his equipment and burst out laughing. “And I thought Chloe and I were bad to drag half the shed with us when we go on a fishing trip.”
Chloe stepped back so Brock could load his gear. “So, what kind of boat is that?”
Brock’s eyes sparkled as he ran a hand along glitter-flaked paint. “It’s a Ranger 21-footer, 250-horsepower, 24-volt, 70-pound-thrust, foot-controlled trolling motor.”
Mary laughed. Chloe shook her head. “In other words, a high-end Bass Tracker.”
“Is there anything else worth having?” Brock chuckled and closed the hatch to Chance’s Jeep. “Shall we?”
Everyone loaded in the vehicle. It didn’t escape Chloe’s notice that Brock hopped in the backseat next to her mom, leaving Chloe to ride with Chance in the front.
She sighed. “Two more recruits to the cupid posse,” she muttered and tugged her seat belt across her lap.
Chance covered a chuckle and started the ignition.
“Where are we fishing today, kiddos?” Mary asked as they started down the road. Chloe wondered why they hadn’t used Ivan’s boat today. Maybe it wasn’t as big as Brock’s.
“Refuge Lake, where it feeds into Refuge River, just down from Reunion Bridge,” Chance said. “We ought to hit right when the fish are biting.”
Two hours later, Chloe measured her tenth catch, then put the fish back in the water. She rebaited, then recast her line.
She stepped to the middle of the boat and sat next to Chance, engaged in conversation with Mary and Brock.
Chloe could hardly concentrate on what they were saying because her gaze kept tangling on Chance’s myriad of facial expressions as he listened to Mary and Brock talk.
Chloe tried to force herself to tune out her unsinkable interest in Chance and tune her mother in, but like occupied bobbers, it kept bouncing back up.
When she remembered that Chance intended to be ordained as a youth pastor, her attention finally stayed where she wanted it to.
Mary donned a visor. “Sounds like you’re serious about the sport. Do you compete in tournaments and the like?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m not a leisurely fly fisherman like Chance here.” Brock clapped a hand over his shoulder.
Oh well. Scratch introducing Brock to her cousin Mallory. She hated fishing and would have his professional fishing poles heisted and hidden within the first five minutes of meeting him.
Probably for the better anyway that Brock and Mal were polar opposites. Because if Brock was in Mallory’s life, and Mallory was in Chloe’s life, she’d see even more of Chance, Brock’s best friend. And the more Chance became embedded in her life, the less hold she had on her heart and dreams.
For sure, her emotional fingers were slipping.
And she needed to do something about it. Fast.
Chapter Eleven
“Wow. Fast.” Mary eyed the TV screen at Chance’s house a few weeks after that first fishing trip. She watched intently as a line of parachutes streamed from a military craft hovering over blue water sloshed into a bowl shape by blade-blown wind.
Mary and Chloe had joined Chance and Brock on four fishing trips in the past four weeks now, and Mary had asked to see what PJs do. Chance obliged by inviting her and Chloe over to watch video footage of Petrowski’s team trainings used in PJ recruiting videos.
Not that he was trying to impress Chloe or anything.
He peeked over his shoulder at her profile.
Her mouth hung open. Adoration and respect shone in her eyes as footage played of his team performing over-ocean jump exercises and deep-water rescue training for astronauts while NASA officials looked on.
She looked totally impressed. Totally immersed. Totally enthralled.
He tried to smother a grin.
Brock smirked. An I’m-happy-for-you-but-jealous-it’s-not-happening-for-me look passed between the two men.
Chance laughed and rose to check on his dad, asleep since before they arrived. When he cracked open the door, rustling sounded. He tried to close the door quietly, hoping he hadn’t disturbed his father’s sleep.
“Who’s there?”
Chance stepped back inside the pitch-black room. “It’s me, Dad. Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I’ve been awake. Who’s out there?”
“I have some friends over. Brock and Chloe are here with her mom, Mary. We just got back from fishing.”
“If Chloe’s here, where’s the mutt?”
Chance smiled. Even in the dark, his dad’s eyes sparkled when he spoke of Midnight. “He’s out there too. Sleeping at present. We wore him out fishing today. We went longer than the last two Saturdays because the fish were really biting. Wish you could have joined us.”
A grunt. The bed creaked. “Reach me my clothes there.”
“You’re getting up?”
“Yeah. No use lying around.”
Yet that’s all Dad had done since the stroke.
Thankfulness washed over him because his dad was starting to feel well enough physically and emotionally to socialize. After helping his father dress, Chance pushed his wheelchair close.
Ivan growled. “Must you treat me like I can’t do for myself? Hand me that cane, would ya?”
Chance grinned, loving that his dad’s determination had returned in full force. At least for today.
Maybe he’d come fishing with them next weekend.
Chance flipped on the lamp. Light flooded the room. “How about use your walker first? Then graduate to cane?”
“Fine. Hold me back, why don’t ya.”
Chance chuckled. This was the dad he remembered.
“You say there’s a lady out there?” Ivan scratched his chin and ran a hand down his trousers in smoothing motions.
Chance straightened Ivan’s collar. “Yes, Chloe’s mom.”
“Isn’t she a widow?” Ivan leaned on his walker and brushed a hand along the ring of white hair surrounding the shiny bald spot.
Chance’s smile faded. “Yes, I b-believe she is.”
What was up with that? He hadn’t stuttered in days.
Mary, Chloe and Brock turned and stood when Ivan clomped into the room on his walker.
When his gaze met Mary’s, a twinkle came to his eyes that made Chance uneasy. Same twinkle Chance recalled seeing once or twice when Ivan stared at Chance’s mother.
“I’m Mary.” She smiled and extended her hand.
“I always did like the name Mary.” Ivan took her hand, then took his time releasing it.
A horrible feeling struck Chance. Surely Mary and Ivan wouldn’t become interested in one another?
But the connection Chance witnessed when Mary helped his dad sit on the couch next to her nixed his hopes of zero interest. The brief but powerful thing surging between his father and Chloe’s mother reminded Chance of the exact thing between himself and Chloe the first moment they met.
His gaze found Chloe’s, and she too was eyeing Ivan and Mary with a curious gleam.
Unlike Chance, Chloe was smiling.
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“We’re watching videos,” Brock said to Ivan and caught Chance’s gaze in a way that let him know Brock had picked up on Chance’s uncomfortable thoughts about the two parents.
Ivan pointed at a cabinet below the television. “Fetch those. That’s my boy when he was learning to love airplanes. He used to build and then fly them. Thankfully for mankind he decided against being a pilot.” Ivan chuckled. “And you’ll soon see why.”
“I d-dread this.” Chance chuckled. Chloe eyed him with humor as she plucked a DVD out and poked it in.
Soon images of a teenaged Chance flying model planes came across the screen. The huge airplane spun three times in a circle before nose-diving into the ground.
Everyone cringed, then laughed. Even Chance.
“That kit cost me four hundred hard-earned dollars,” Chance said, still laughing and enjoying the memories. “I bet I mowed ten dozen lawns to buy that plane and spent two months building it.”
“And it only took him ten minutes to crash it.” Ivan smiled fondly at Chance. “His mother went right out and used her green stamp collection to buy him another one.”
Speaking of Mom, Chance hoped maybe she’d be in the video, but she rarely took him flying his planes. That was a special thing he always did with Dad. Still, with Mary here, he could only hope Ivan would catch a glimpse of his late wife and remember that no woman could replace her.
Not even one as pretty and apparently dazzling to his dad as Chloe’s mom.
“Come on, Midnight.” Chance took him outside then came back in, swiping moisture off his nose. “It’s sprinkling.”
Midnight shook water droplets off, then plopped down.
Mary laughed again as the plane crashed a second time. “What happened there, Chance? Did you run out of fuel?”
Chance laughed, warming to Mary a shade because that statement sounded so much like something his mother would say, and with the same cheeky grin too. “No, ma’am. I ran out of altitude.”
Rounds of laughter filled the room. Rumbles rolled in the distance, cutting into the camaraderie and fun.
Midnight’s ears perked up. He whined and eyed the windows, then Chloe, who petted him with her toes since he was sprawled at her feet. “It’s okay, boy.”
But a large clap of thunder later caused the dog to yelp, run frantic circles around the table and pace the room.
“What on earth is wrong with him?” Mary started to stand, but a streak of lightning outside the window halted everyone. Another streak crashed so close the entire yard lit. A thunderous boom resounded. The windows rattled.
Midnight yelped, scurried then jumped over the table. He landed square in Ivan’s lap and sat there trembling.
Chance expected Ivan to toss the still-wet “mutt” onto the floor, but instead, he blinked a couple times then threw his head back and laughed out loud for the first time since losing his wife.
“Midnight, down!” Chloe tried to drag the seventy-pound Lab off Ivan’s lap, but he pressed closer to the older man. Chance tried to help Chloe get the dog off since they couldn’t even see Ivan’s face.
But Midnight pressed his paws into the couch and would…not…budge. Ivan must have gotten another kick out of that because the more they tried to drag the dog down, the more the dog scrambled backwards and dug himself into Ivan’s lap. And the more Ivan laughed.
Mary covered her mouth. Chuckles slipped out.
Chloe issued the dog a firm look. “I’m sorry, Mr. Garrison. He’s terrified of storms.”
Ivan swiped tears. His jaw jiggled from laughing. “Does he leap in your lap at claps of thunder too?”
“Yes. And he won’t usually move until the rain stops and the rainbow shows up.”
Ivan laughed more. “I’m surprised he doesn’t squish you. You’re no bigger’n a twig.”
Chance snapped his finger. “Midnight, down. Now.”
Midnight tucked his head and pretended not to see.
“He’s fine, son. Leave him be.” Ivan’s arms came around the dog in a patting hug. “It’s okay, boy. I won’t let that old thunder ‘n’ lightnin’ git ya.” Midnight swung his head toward Chance and Chloe, then tucked his chin and tail.
Ivan bent close to the dog’s lowered ears. “And I won’t let Chloe and Chance git ya either. No sir-ee.”
Midnight peered at Chance and Chloe like, “Ha! See?”
Ivan kept laughing until Midnight placed a paw on his chest and licked his chin.
Chloe tapped his nose with her finger. “Midnight, no licking.”
Chance pressed a hand to his mouth and suppressed a smile. While Chloe scolded the dog, Ivan deftly issued Midnight a constant clandestine stream of reassuring scratches and pats with his affected hand.
Brock turned his laptop so the others could see the radar for southern Illinois. “Looks like we might be stuck here awhile. Radar’s full-on red above Refuge and won’t pass for a couple hours.”
True to the radar, the raucous storm and torrential flooding that followed stranded Mary, Chloe and Brock.
“I hear you make chess sets,” Mary said to Ivan. “Do you play too?”
“Did. Haven’t in years.” He rubbed his hand, slightly atrophied from lack of use. “Don’t reckon it’d hurt me to try though.” He flicked his chin toward Chance. “Hey boy, go into my room and get the big set out. The one we used for kids who have trouble holding the pieces.”
For the next two hours, Mary and Ivan played chess while Brock loaded pictures from their fishing excursion onto his computer, running on battery. Images of Refuge River came up.
“You remember that bridge today?” Brock asked Chloe.
“Yeah. The nice new one?”
“Yeah. Here’s what it looked like right after the collapse a couple of years ago.”
Chloe let out a delicate gasp as images scrolled across the monitor. “I remember hearing about this. It was plastered all over the Chicago news for months.” She turned slowly to eye Chance. “Wow. Your team was the one who got those people safely off, wasn’t it?”
Chance felt like a rooster ready to strut. “Yeah, that was probably us.”
“Probably you? You are one of those valiant men who risked their lives on that bridge to save a busload of school-children. Aren’t you, Chance Garrison? I’m standing in the presence of a national hero.”
“Actually, international if you want to be technical about it.” Ivan moved his rook forward.
Brock flipped to the next picture and Reece appeared.
Chloe bent in. “That’s the little girl who took Mr. Maple. Ben and Amelia’s daughter, right? And Hutton, the one with mosaic Down Syndrome who manages the kitchen at the B&B, is her older brother?”
“Actually, Reece is Ben’s stepdaughter. He adopted her after he and Amelia married. Hutton is Ben’s brother. He stays with them several months out of the year. Reece was on the bridge when it collapsed,” Brock said.
Mary gasped. “My goodness. That must have been horrible for Ben! For all of you really.”
“It’s par for the course. We deal with ‘horrible’ every mission.” Chance watched the pictures of his team and their families click by. The desire for a family of his own hit with bomb-caliber vengeance. The feeling was so strong he knew he couldn’t compromise his determination to marry and start a family soon, while he was still young.
He slid a glance to Chloe. By the look on her face, she was afraid of that very thing. “Amelia must have had to give up a lot having Reece so young.”
Brock studied Chloe carefully, then Chance, then Chloe. “Amelia had a rough go at it for a while. But she wouldn’t trade her daughter for anything. No dream could mean more than a family.”
Chance cast Brock a look of thanks. He might have crossed over to the dark side and joined the ranks of the cupid posse, but his loyalty still rested concretely with Chance and the unbreakable bond of friendship and brotherhood they held as pararescue teammates.
Chloe rubbed her arms as though cold. Yet the h
ouse temperature was muggy since the storm knocked the power out long enough to shut off the air-conditioner. The lights flickered, then came back on with the electricity.
The storm abated enough that Midnight slipped off Ivan’s lap. Ivan patted his head then motioned Chance to his side. “Next time you’re at the sporting goods store, pick this mutt up a fishing vest. And drag mine out of storage while you’re at it.”
Chance eyed the dog, then Ivan. Wonder and God-centered worship erupted inside. “Does this mean you’ll come fishing with us soon?”
“It means I’m gonna catch twice as many bass as you and Brock put together. I got nine months’ wortha fishin’ to catch up on.”
Chloe grinned triumphantly. Mary’s eyes sparkled. Brock squeezed Ivan’s shoulder. “It’s on. I’ll even let you man the depth finder.”
The week since the storm had passed mostly uneventfully, but right now Chloe was late. “Argh! Story of my life.” After meeting with Mandy at Refuge Memorial Hospital, Chloe was now on her way to pick up her mother so Mary could accompany her to Refuge City Hall. Once in town, Chloe pulled into her mother’s driveway.
Mary got in and checked the dashboard clock. “True to form. If you’re less than thirty minutes late, you’re early.”
“Mandy’s morning surgery ran late.”
“Does she seem busy? Today’s my day off, but I can run in for a few hours if she’s swamped.”
“No, the other part-time woman there didn’t seem frazzled.”
“They must be fine then. How’d it go?”
Relief trickled through Chloe. “Refuge’s hospital administration granted permission to bring my therapy dog to visit appropriate patients who will benefit from Midnight’s contagious cheer.”
“That’s fabulous, Chloe!”
“Yeah, and this week I get to take him to the classroom of Celia and Amber’s special-needs students again. I’m not sure who got a bigger kick out of that last week, Midnight or the children. Midnight’s also working wonders on Ivan.”