A Soldier's Homecoming. Rachel Lee

A Soldier's Homecoming - Rachel  Lee


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never pass up a cup of coffee,” Julia answered. “You know that. You don’t even have to ask.”

      “Sophie should be home soon,” Connie remarked as she washed both her hands and the spackling knife at the sink. “She’d better hurry. It looks like we might get a storm.”

      Julia turned her wheelchair so she could look out the tall window over the sink. “So it does. I wanted to ask you something.”

      Connie grabbed a towel to dry her hands and turned, leaning back against the counter. She raised her eyebrows. “I always hate it when you say that.”

      “Why?”

      “Because it always means it’s not an ordinary question.”

      Julia laughed. “Well, you’re too old for me to send to your room, so I think you’re safe.”

      Connie laughed, too. Just at the edge of hearing, she heard a rumble of thunder. “What is it?”

      “I want to get Sophie a dog.”

      “Oh. Is that all?” Connie draped the towel on the rack by the sink.

      Julia cocked her head to one side. “I don’t know how to take that.”

      “Well, take it that I’m listening. Why do you want to get her a dog?”

      “She’s been asking for one. And Pru’s dachshund just had a litter.”

      “A little dog, huh?”

      “Well…” Julia drew the word out.

      “Well, what?”

      “Pru’s not sure who the father is. And some of the pups have pretty big feet.”

      Connie couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. “Do you know what an image that is? A dachshund with those short, short legs and huge feet?”

      Julia laughed, too.

      “Sort of like a basset hound,” Connie remarked. “Long, low and short. It’s okay if she gets a dog, Mom. But she’s got to take care of it.”

      “I was thinking it would be a chance to use her mothering urges on something besides her friends.”

      “Every little bit helps. Just be sure you’re comfortable with the idea, because you know Sophie is going to forget at times.”

      “I’m a great reminder.”

      “Nag, Mom. The word is nag.”

      They were still laughing together when Sophie burst into the room with her best friend, Jody, out of breath and looking scared.

      “Mom! Mom! A man tried to talk to us when we were walking home! He chased us!”

       Chapter Three

      As Gage’s SUV drove up the rutted drive to Micah’s house, neither man said a word. Then a two-story house with a gabled roof came into view, a barn not far away. A woman was visible outside the house, hanging laundry. She was small and blond, looking as delicate as a flower petal.

      “That’s his wife, Faith. The school bus won’t bring their kids home for another half hour, at least. I’ll wait for you unless you tell me otherwise.”

      Ethan nodded. His face felt chiseled from stone. Gage wheeled into the large yard, waving at Faith as he did so. She waved back, one hand holding a shapeless piece of laundry.

      “There you go,” Gage said. His hands were tight on the wheel as he stopped.

      Ethan paused for a moment, then climbed out.

      He had no idea what to expect. Faith froze like a frightened deer when she saw him. Statuelike, she watched him approach. He did so slowly, not wanting to frighten her more, wondering why she was frightened at all when Gage was here.

      But then, in an instant, she dropped the laundry she held and gasped, “You look just like Micah when he was younger.”

      Ethan paused awkwardly. “We’re related.”

      “I thought so.” Then she astonished him by hurrying toward him and wrapping him in a hug. “This is wonderful,” she said. “Absolutely wonderful!”

      A moment later she stepped back, holding his arms as she looked up at him. Her smile was wide and welcoming, and then perplexity entered her eyes, followed by the wavering of her smile.

      “I’m sorry I shocked you,” Ethan said quickly.

      Faith shook her head. Biting her lower lip, she continued to search his face. “You look so much like him. You’re not just a cousin, are you?”

      She said it more like a statement than a question. Ethan hesitated, not sure whether to lie, and that hesitation apparently gave him away.

      “You’re…you’re his son, aren’t you?”

      Slowly Ethan nodded. He hadn’t expected to feel gut-punched, hadn’t expected to feel his stomach quiver nervously. He had thought very little could fill him with fear any longer. But he felt fear now, as if everything rested on this small woman’s decision.

      There was an instant, just an instant, when she seemed to gather herself; then her smile steadied again. “That’s wonderful. I’m surprised he never mentioned you.”

      “He doesn’t know.”

      She nodded, almost a rocking movement. “I see. Well, then, this will certainly be a great day for him.”

      “I wish I were sure of that.”

      A little laugh escaped her. “I am.”

      “You’re not upset?”

      She tilted her head to one side. “Micah was forty-two when I met him. I’d have to be a foolish woman indeed to think I was his first and only love.”

      Tension seeped out of Ethan, allowing him to smile at last. “Thank you.”

      “Come inside. He’s in the upper pasture checking on the sheep, but he’ll be back soon.” She turned and gestured to Gage to join them.

      “I’m just the transportation,” Gage called. “Don’t let me get in the way.”

      “You’re never in the way. But if you want to go home to Emma, we can take care of him.”

      “You’re sure?”

      “Absolutely.”

      Gage waved and drove back down the long ranch road, trailing a cloud of dust in his wake.

      Leaving the laundry, Faith took Ethan’s hand and gently urged him toward the door. “This is remarkable,” she said. “Absolutely remarkable.”

      He thought the only truly remarkable thing was that this woman, who had never seen him before, was so ready to accept him and take him in.

      Inside, she motioned him to the kitchen table. “Coffee?”

      “I’d love some.”

      She put a pot on the stove to brew, then sat facing him, her eyes drinking in every detail. “It’s strange, but I feel like it’s fifteen years ago and I’m meeting Micah for the first time.”

      “I didn’t know I looked so much like him.”

      “Except for the beard.” She nodded, her fingers twisting together. “So tell me about yourself, about your mother. Or you can wait for Micah, so you don’t have to do it twice.”

      “I…” He hesitated. Then he said frankly, “I’m not used to talking about myself much.”

      “Then let me tell you about us.” She seemed comfortable with that, and he was grateful. “We met and


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