A Soldier's Promise. Cheryl Wyatt
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esteemed. Kind regards, Joel M. Montgomery, USAF.
“Ugh!” He didn’t write her—he’d e-mailed her students. Amber chastised herself for her strong reaction.
She’d had no business hoping.
“False alarm, Psych. Story of my life.” Had she imagined the fizz between them? In all her dreamy Cinderella-ness, probably. “It’s better that way anyhow, Psych. Bart shattered my glass slipper at the altar last year.”
The cat padded over and raked against her ankle.
She scratched along Psych’s ribs, then dusted orange-yellow hair off her hand. “What do you think, buddy? Is Joel just a player who flirts with all the gals?”
Amber stiffened against disappointment, and clicked through the remaining messages.
Another caught her eye. Her pulse revved at the name.
Sender: J.M.M. Subject line: Reporting For Duty, Ma’am.
She embraced the words with caution this time.
Hey, teach. Soldier Joel here. Making sure I got the right in-box. Reply if this is you. Ignore if you’re not you. Ha-Ha. How’s our little playground prince? I’m sending a second e-mail shortly for you to share with your class. Let me know if you get these. Okay, signing off to compose the other message. Cordially, JMM—USAF
She scrolled to the first message, noting the time stamp. Sure enough. The message settings inverted the order received. She’d have Bradley fix it when he came over Sunday after church. Little tech whiz could do anything with a computer. She knew just enough to pose a danger to her sanity and her hard drive.
Amber arched a brow at her cat. “Are you the culprit who messed with my settings? I saw you enthroned on my keyboard terrorizing a moth.”
Psychoticat meowed and curved his back under her fingers as she scratched. Amber suppressed the urge to sneeze. She had a feeling Psych’s hair caused the allergies. But she couldn’t bear to give him up since he’d been abandoned as a kitten.
Amber smiled in anticipation of the children’s glee when she shared Joel’s e-mail with them Monday. She hit Reply, then typed:
Last time I checked, I was me. Are you still you? Oven beep summons a hen basted in honey and oranges—a meal fit for a playground prince whose kingdom is Cloud 9 thanks to G.I. Joel and his fearless friends. Will forward your other message to my students. Must go. Oven dirty. Particles burning and stinky. Fire alarm makes Psychoticat more neurotic than usual. Warmly, Amber M. Stanton
Twelve hours and two time zones later put Joel’s team in Paris, France, the halfway mark to Mumbai where they would catch another flight to the Indian coastline near Cochin.
Manny plopped in one of the airport’s lounge seats beside Joel and elbowed him.
Joel looked over. Manny shoved the BlackBerry back in Joel’s hand. “Use it again. You know you want to.”
“I think I’ll wait until she e-mails me back. Thanks.”
A grin overtook the squat and stout PJ’s brown face. “Maybe she did.”
Joel narrowed his gaze, looked at Manny then the device. “Gimme that Blueberry.”
“BlackBerry. Don’t worry. I didn’t read it.” Manny stretched the handheld out again. Joel reached for it.
Manny eased it back. “Unless you want me to…”
“Hey—” Joel stood, prepared to wrestle the thing from him if need be. Manny jerked it back a few more times as Joel grasped at it. Finally, Manny handed it over.
Joel took the teasing and the BlackBerry without preamble. He pulled up her message, trying not to show outwardly how much it meant to him that she’d responded.
“What did she say?” Manny scooted over and leaned in, straining to read the small text in the window.
Joel tilted the screen at an angle so his friend could see.
Manny nodded and tapped Joel’s forearm with the stylus. “We’re in Paris. You ought to go buy her something. That kid, too. Chicks like romance and flowers and stuff. Especially rare, exotic gifts from other countries.”
Chapman tipped his cowboy hat. “Get her a beaded Indian sari.”
PJ Vince Reardon smirked. “Nah. Save some cash. Bring her back a parasite instead. They’re exotic.”
Joel shook his head. “I’ll hit the shops on the way back to the States since we’re on standby for the next flight. We need to stick together. I don’t want to get stuck in a checkout line.”
Manny yawned. “You did good yesterday, Montgomery. I’m proud of you.” He sprawled in a seat at the stainless steel aesthetic DeGaulle Airport. Other teams went by military craft, but since they’d deployed from Illinois, the government flew them domestic.
“It was harder than I’d anticipated. But it helped that I had the distraction of Bradley.” A pretty teacher, too. “Only at one point did I feel myself slipping.” He hoped it wouldn’t hit him after the fact. He didn’t need to be a train wreck heading into South Asia.
Manny leaned forward, clasping his hands in listen mode. “Yeah, when was that?”
“In the playground. You know I went to that school for a few years when I was a kid, right?”
Manny shook his head. “Ah, man. No, I didn’t.”
“Yeah, my mom—she used to take me there and swing me. That was the last thing we ever did together.” Joel swallowed and cast a hard stare at the BlackBerry. He thought of Amber’s determined quest to find Bradley’s mom.
How many times had he prayed as a child for someone who wouldn’t give up until they found his mother? How many nights had he cried himself to sleep missing her? Wishing he could at least have an answer? He’d prayed and prayed for God to bring her home but the only thing that came was news there had been a car accident. His mother had died but longing lived on for someone to tell his deepest fears and craziest dreams to. Someone to be real with.
Someone like Amber.
“Bradley’s blessed to have her. She’s good for him.” Joel cleared his throat to rid himself of the emotion. He wouldn’t let it crack him again. He’d lived broken as a child because he had no choice. As a man, he had a choice. He would avoid anything with potential to breach the dam walling his past from his present.
That included Refuge, and everything in it.
Joel coughed, but the elastic band wouldn’t ease from his chest. He hadn’t felt like this in fifteen years, and he hoped for another fifteen at least before he had to feel anything like it again. The pressure made it hard to breathe.
Manny eyed him with unwavering intent. “I think it’ll be good for you to keep that promise. She could be good for you. You’ve never dealt with that junk with your mom and your uncle, dude. And you need to.”
“I’ll keep my promise to Bradley, Peña.” Don’t expect more.
“I know you will. And then some.” Manny leaned back.
Joel tapped the keyboard to compose a message.
After sending it, Joel stared at the blank screen while Manny’s mantra rang in the ears of his soul. I know you will. And then some. These guys held each other to the same stellar code of standards. Above and beyond, no matter what. On missions, in personal lives. When everyone looked, or no one.
Integrity. The creed didn’t stop when the missions did.
They didn’t make promises without intent to bulldoze mountains if that’s what it took to keep them. Even Everest with a Barbie Jeep if that’s what it required to maintain the pristine field of their word,