The Other Soldier. Kathy Altman
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past a grove of lilacs and the heady scent, combined with the cheerful songs of the robins hunting worms in the dew-damp grass around them, cheered her.
Silence. She turned to find him watching her. “You love this place,” he said.
“I do. So you can see why…” She trailed off.
“Why you’d put up with having me around?” He nodded once. “So, what can I do to help?”
“Follow me.”
After leading him to the storage end of Hut Three she selected a bucket, a soft-bristled scrub brush and a container of bleach. She pushed them at him and said, “Garden hose is just outside.”
He accepted the items as though they were a pile of dirty diapers. “What are these for?”
“Remember that mildew I mentioned?” She waved a hand at the nearest wall. “Don’t scrub too hard or you’ll tear the plastic.”
* * *
REID STRAIGHTENED, AND winced as the stiffness in his back reminded him he’d been hunched over for hours. He peeled back a borrowed latex glove and glanced at his watch. Okay, maybe not hours. Still, ninety minutes was a long time to be bent over a bucket of bleach.
His wince graduated to a grimace. Normally he wasn’t much of a complainer. This morning he had two good reasons. One, he never did get a decent cup of coffee. And two, he’d spent way too much time last night worrying when he should have been sleeping.
Worrying about whether he’d be able to make a difference. And if Parker would break her promise to Briggs. Seemed she planned to keep it after all. But for how long?
The breeze was back, and it carried the scent of spring through the greenhouse. He drew in an approving breath. All in all he’d rather smell flowers than a platoon of sweaty men any day. Not to mention bleach. He peeled off the gloves, pushed his hands into the small of his back and stretched. Time to see if he could get away with making his own pot of coffee.
A clearing of a throat. A young, female-type throat.
Aw, hell. Reid squeezed his eyes shut and slowly lowered his hands to his sides. He hadn’t expected to have to deal with her so soon. Even as he opened his eyes and turned, he told himself he should just ignore her. Show her he was someone she didn’t want to be around.
Green eyes watched him warily. At least he assumed they were both green. One was nearly swollen shut. Damn. All that black and blue had to smart.
After a few awkward seconds he managed to find his voice. “Something I can do for you?”
She shook her head. Silence. He sighed, and gestured with his chin. “What’s with the eye?”
She shrugged. Still not a word. Reid knew he’d lost his charm a long time ago but this was ridiculous. Had she come just to stare? He was tempted to turn around but something in her one-eyed gaze stopped him.
“Name’s Reid. I’m helping out.”
“Why?”
Aha. Not his favorite word in the world, but at least it was a word. “I’m on leave for a month. Needed something to do.”
Her mouth twisted and she eyed the plastic he’d scrubbed.
“You haven’t gotten very far. You spend that much time on every section and as soon as you’re done you’ll have to start all over again.”
Okay, why had he wanted her to speak to him? He gave a lazy shrug, and he could tell by the breathy, indignant noise she made that she didn’t appreciate his response.
“Do you even know what a chrysanthemum looks like?”
He tried not to laugh. She sounded like a teenager. “All right, kid, I admit it. I know squat about plants.” Except what Noble Johnson had tried to teach him. And he didn’t remember much of that, since the more beer the big man drank, the more Latin he spouted. “But that’s what Google’s for.”
“Whatever. You got a girlfriend?”
Now why was that question a kick to his gut? “No.” Then before he could stop himself he added, “Not anymore.” Damn, soldier. Shut up.
“What happened to her?”
“We just…didn’t get along anymore.” Not that he blamed her. There was a time he could barely get along with himself.
“’Cause you’re grumpy?”
Takes grumpy to know grumpy, kid. “Maybe.”
She fiddled with the bracelets on her wrist. “My mom said you came to help ’cause my dad died.”
He didn’t say anything. There was nothing he could say.
“And you didn’t even know him.” She tucked her hands into the back pockets of her bright pink jeans. “I could tell you about him, if you want. Whenever he came home from being deployed he always had to have my mom’s banana muffins. And her meat loaf. He’d ask her to make tons of it and we’d have it with mashed potatoes and peas. I never ate the peas. If she tried to make me I’d feed ’em to Chance. Anyways she’d make him meat loaf sandwiches with ketchup and cheese for when he went fishing. Sometimes she’d put hard-boiled eggs inside to surprise him. Daddy didn’t like to fish with worms, he used these squiggly, feathery, funny-looking things called flies and—”
Reid closed his eyes. He was in hell. Forget the searing flames and writhing bodies and agonized screaming. This was true damnation, having to listen to a lonely little girl chatter on and on about the father she’d worshipped.
“—and when I’d forget to shut it he’d get reeeeally annoyed and—”
“I’m a little busy here, kid,” he said, and barely recognized his own voice. “Maybe you could tell me some other time.” He braced himself for the tears. But her eyes filled with annoyance instead.
“That was rude,” she said. “And my name is Natalie.” She turned and marched away with her nose in the air.
Reid blinked. Guilt pressed down on him like a hundred-pound weight. Now he really needed a coffee. In fact he’d make it a double.
He headed for the potting shed. No sense in pretending he’d only been following her mother’s orders. Truth was, it hurt too much to talk to her. Besides, that kid had more attitude than the desert had scorpions. No way Parker needed to worry about her bonding with Reid.
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