Contemporary Romance: Passage of Arms - A Military Romance Novel (Romance, Contemporary Romance, Military Romance, Romance Novel Book 1) (4 page)

Gut Feeling

Sarah awoke with a gasp and grabbed her heart. It was racing within her chest. She was covered in a layer of sweat and her body shook, like she had been having a panic attack in her sleep.

Blinking repeatedly, she looked around. Soft painted walls greeted her. They were a pastel purple. She was in Ruth’s room. Looking down, she noticed the darkened spot of her child’s body resting within the tangled sheets on the bed.

Swallowing back a thick lump in her throat, Sarah wiped her palms on the bedsheets and then sat up. Her legs were too cramped on the bed. She barely even remembered falling asleep the night before. It had to be around 10 pm and yet she felt like she hadn’t even sleep a minute.

Rubbing her head, Sarah swallowed again and noticed the pain in the back of her throat. She needed water. In the kitchen, she relieved her throat with a tall glass of water. An 8 full ounces. She watched the amount from the display in the refrigerator door.

Something wasn’t right. She caught the time from her watch, remembering she always wore one. 7:56 pm. Her mouth dropped. The last thing she remembered was lying down with Ruth around six. They had been reading books. In fact, they were probably still strewn about the bed. She hadn’t been able to stay awake, sleep being stronger than her will.

Sarah helped herself to another glass and a half before she felt she could start making sense of what was going on. She had a bad dream. She could remember that now. She still didn’t know what it was about, but she felt like Adam was in danger.

She checked her watch again, and then moved to the countertop where her phone lay charging. She looked at her notifications, and then pulled up her email and reloaded the feed. No new messages, nothing. The last exit was kind of a big deal. The New York Times covered the issue. As always, there were some Americans who thought leaving while ISIS was so strong was stupid, and others thought no one should be over there in the first place, and of course, there was the Support Our Troops crowd that was loyal no matter what. She liked that crowd.

She sat the phone down and rolled her tongue over in her mouth. Her body ached and she still felt sleep tugging her down, but she knew she wasn’t going to be able to go to sleep any time too soon again.

Reaching for the phone again, Sarah dialed Mary’s number. Mary also served as the woman she called when she needed to get inside scoop about the deployments overseas. Mary picked up after a few rings.

“Hello, Sarah. How’s Ruth?”

“Sleeping. Have you heard anything about the departure yet?” Sarah asked quickly, moving straight to her point. She didn’t see the need to engage in small talk. Maybe later.

“Nothing much. They made it out. Everyone’s safe.”

Sarah blinked. Her chest heaved. “You’re sure? Adam’s plane? He’s out and everything?”

“I believe that’s what my husband said the press was just talking about. They made their rendezvous and now they’re headed to their connecting fighting in Egypt or something.”

“What press?” Sarah asked after a moment.

“The Reuters. They didn’t mention the pullout location, but some local Reuters covered it, I think.”

Sarah’s breath was still shaking. Something didn’t seem right. “They said this hours ago?”

“Hours? No, minutes. Maybe 30. What’s going on?”

“Um,” Sarah squeezed her eyes closed. Her mouth was dry again. She needed more water. “I can’t sleep,” she changed the topic.

“Oh,” Mary whispered gently into the phone. “I know the feeling. Holding your breath until you’re sure they’re INCONUS, right?”

Sarah chuckled and felt her eyes watering. She hated how much she cried. She felt so terribly weak each time it happened, and now she didn’t even know why it was happening.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Mary cooed over the phone. “I totally get it. You’re worried about things going wrong, right? It’s been 12 months and it’s a little hard to believe that he could be home in a matter of days.”

Nodding, Sarah pushed hair away from her eyes. She held onto a strand and tucked it behind her ear. The marbled countertops slowly came into focus.

“Maybe you’re right,” she said with a sniff.

“Honey, I know I’m right. It’s okay. Feel the feelings. It’s good to get it all out.”

Sarah nodded again, finding strength from Mary’s words. Still, her insides felt hollow, like there was no frame supporting her. She leaned over the countertop and stared down at nothing. Her mind was blank. She didn’t even know what to think.

“I’m not going to be able to sleep,” she admitted softly.

“Uh huh,” Mary confronted. “Then don’t. Put on a movie, get something cold and sweet to drink and zone out. You’ll fall asleep soon enough.”

Pinching the ridge of her nose, Sarah took a deep breath. “You think it’ll be so easy?”

“Absolutely. Think of nothing.”

Sarah choked back a stifled chuckle. She nodded into the phone, and then simply hung up. She didn’t have anything else to say. In the living room, she followed her friend’s advice. She couldn’t even decide on a movie, so she flipped through the TV stations mindlessly until she landed on a movie channel. It looked like the Bourne Supremacy, or one of those Bourne movies. She wasn’t sure which one, but she could recognize Matt Damon’s face. She liked him. He was cute. She decided to watch the movie.

She had more than settled into the couch when she remembered to get something sweet and cold to drink. She didn’t feel like getting up again, so she remained on the couch. At some point, sleep finally came and took her back into its dark confines. The movie ended and another one started. She opened her eyes periodically throughout the night and noted that a different movie was playing, but Matt Damon was still in the flick. That made her smile.

At some point during the second movie, knocking roused Sarah from her sleep. She looked at her watch first. 10:13 pm. If the night kept on like this, she wondered if the morning would ever come.

Sarah lifted her head lazily. Matt Damon was punching someone in the face. Yes, sweaty Matt Damon was kind of a cure-all for everything. But the knocking wasn’t coming from the TV.

Sarah sat up and turned the TV down. Then she turned it off and just sat. Someone was at her door. She moved towards it, sluggish and still groggy. The hallway lights were off and only the kitchen lights and living room illuminated the main floor.

At the front door, she peered through the peephole. She saw a mass of body, shoulders and collarbone. It looked male. Sarah pulled back from the peephole and flicked on the porch light. As the light came on, the head on the body rose and peered back at the door. It was Bruce. He wore no smile.

Sarah reached for the doorknob, but then paused. It was late. Bruce never came over so late before.

“Sarah, I know it’s late, but can you open the door, please?”

Frowning, Sarah looked through the peephole again. She thought about the terrible dream she had, the one she couldn’t remember, and her face paled. Her mouth drained and suddenly, she felt a little queasy.

When she touched the doorknob again, it was cold and stung the pads of her fingertips. She ignored the sting and released the locks on the door. Bruce didn’t push it open. After a moment, she pulled back on the door and looked him over.

His clothes were wrinkly and ruffled, like he had thrown on the first thing lying around and headed out the door. Bruce met her eyes, a steel type of dull gray in the darkness.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked, touching her stomach absently. Bruce drew in a shaky breath, causing Sarah to reach out towards him. Her fingertips grazed his forearm.  “What’s wrong?” She asked again, her voice a thin whisper. Bruce shook his head with faltering eyes as an answer.

“Is it Adam?” Sarah breathed in a choked gasped. She watched in horror as Bruce’s expression turned to pain. Sarah shook her head firmly. “Mary said they made it out,” she stuttered and fumbled over her words. Even as she spoke, Bruce shook his head slowly.

“They knew about the departure point. We don’t know how—”

“Mary said they made it out,” Sarah repeated. Bruce stepped into the doorway slowly.

“Sarah, listen to me. There was an attack,” he stressed softly.

“But Mary said they made it out.”

Bruce looked down and took a deep breath. “At 0800 hours there will be a statement that there were complications on the flight carrying Alpha Company. An accident,” he met her eyes at some point while he spoke to her. “There was an attack at the departure point. They think someone told.”

Sarah watched his lips move, but she could no longer hear him speaking. In her mind, she saw Adam’s face, his last smile across electricity and the internet. She heard herself speaking next. She didn’t even remember thinking to say anything.

“Adam,” was the only thing that made it out of her mouth. Bruce pressed his lips together silently. He reached for Sarah’s crumbling body and caught her moments before her knees lost their strength. She heard herself whimpering about someone, trying to ask questions about survivors—anything. Bruce never answered her back. He just held her in the doorway. He stood there with her for over ten minutes, saying nothing and letting her cry.

When she was able to stand, he helped her to a chair in the dining room, a large space beside the kitchen. After another cup of water, Sarah just sat, and Bruce stood watching over her.

He left late, having said nothing else. In the morning, the news came through an official press release right at 0800, just as Bruce had said. Hours later, she was officially notified that her husband was among the deceased. Mary came and took Ruth for the day. Everything else was nothing but a blur.

Five Years Later

“Sweetie, you have five minutes and then you’re going to ride the bus,” Sarah forced a calm into her voice. She wasn’t calm though. She was angry and aggravated. Each day was the same old routine, and it was really getting old. Why did kids have to move so slow?

She woke her daughter up each day at 6:45 in the morning. They had breakfast, a little TV time, and then it was time to get dressed. She tried so many different things to get that girl into a good routine each morning so she could be ready to open her shop at nine and still, her daughter seemed to move slower and slower every day.

Ruth needed to be at school by 8:20, so that she had more than enough time to make it to the next town over to the shop by 9:00. She didn’t like arriving ten minutes before they opened, but lately, that was the time she averaged and it only made her mornings stressful.

It was already 8:15 and the school was over ten minutes away. That meant she’d probably be rushing into the shop again, while her morning crew waited for her lazily outside along with a long line of people who looked forward to her morning pastries and smoothies.

She was glad Miguel agreed to start at six with the baking. That was something she would never be able to do, not with Ruth’s current speed unless she had someone come over early, but then that would probably cost an extra $1500 a month. She growled just thinking about it.

“Ruth, I’m waiting!” Sarah snapped, glaring at her watch again. 8:16. “I’m going to the car,” she called.

“Wait, Mom! Geesh, I can’t find my shoes!” Ruth called from the hallway.

Sarah turned at her daughter’s words. Her socks were on, and her attire was delectably suited for her age, but her shoes were gone. Sarah turned and looked at the baseboards next to the wall in the cove of the front hall. Scuffed tennis shoes stuffed with dirty socks lay on their side. She stared at the shoes for a moment, then looked to Sarah.

“These shoes right here?” She pointed at the shoes with exasperation. “These are the ones you’ve been looking for?” Her daughter followed her finger and smiled brightly.

“I forgot. I left them there last night after I came home from Tina’s,” she chuckled sheepishly and slinked to the door. Dropping to her bottom, Ruth began to pull the shoes towards her, she tugged them on after removing the socks. She struggled with the shoelaces. Sarah clamped her jaw together tightly.

She hated raising her voice, but it was so difficult working with a little human that just didn’t understand the importance of time.

“I’m going to the car. Please lock the door behind you,” she said softly. She didn’t wait to see if Ruth nodded or not, but she heard her daughter mutter a grunt of approval.

In the car, Sarah watched the minutes drift by. It took Ruth two to get her shoes on, and Sarah watched her from the purring vehicle since she had left the front door open. Once Ruth’s shoes were on, she watched the thin girl look herself over, grab her backpack, and then shut the door. Sarah sighed, and rolled down the window.

“Did you lock the door?”

Ruth paused, and stopped walking. “Oh, for Pete’s sake. Get in the car, I’ll do it,” Sarah snapped. She jumped from the driver’s seat and rushed to the door, locking it firmly from the inside before she turned and moved back to the car.

Sarah was in her seat, buckled in and ready to go before Ruth was even completely in the back seat. The girl tugged lethargically at her seat belt. This time, Sarah’s jaw pained as Ruth clicked it into the lock. Ruth was just a slow moving child.

As she backed the car out the driveway, Sarah found herself thinking the thoughts she normally did. The first was always about how she should cut out the TV time. The only problem was that the TV time was for her too. She liked catching news reports and updates on CNN. Her daughter like morning cartoons.

It was their time to prep and get ready for the day. Maybe she should make her daughter get dressed before they ate breakfast? But with as slow as she moved, it would probably only create problems because the show she liked to watch started at 7 am.

Sarah sighed and scratched behind her ear as she darted in and out of traffic in a typical Tuesday morning routine. It wasn’t even Wednesday. This was just the story of her life. At a stoplight, she caught her daughter’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Ruth was quiet, reserved. She was a good child who loved to read. Sarah appreciated that. She didn’t think she could handle the high needs of a boy wanting to talk robots all the time.

“Are you mad at me?” Sarah asked softly.

Ruth looked up from toying with the dangling handles of the zippers on her backpack and shrugged carelessly.

“I don’t like it when you yell at me,” she offered before letting her eyes drop again.

Behind Sarah, someone honked. She resisted the urge to shout back and simply pressed on the gas. The school was another three minutes away. She wet her lips and glanced back at her daughter’s small, childish face.

“I know you don’t, sweetie,” she said softly. “I don’t like it either.” Ruth looked up at her mother’s words, but remained silent. “I just don’t like being late. It’s important for me to get to the shop before open.”

Sarah eyed the traffic carefully and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. She didn’t remember when she had become so tense. She used to be relaxed and easygoing. No one would say that about her now.

“Are you going to be late?” Ruth asked calmly, eyes still down.

Rolling her eyes, Sarah glanced out the window, and then quickly checked the mirror to see if Ruth had seen her. The child was still poking at her backpack.

“I’ll be pushing it really close,” Sarah said instead. “What I really need is for us to get out the house by 8:10. We’re always 15 minutes late. I can’t do that.” Sarah made a turn. She could see the school rising just above the hedges two blocks away.

“Do you think we can try for 8:10 tomorrow? How can I help you?” Sarah tried to pull words from Ruth, but the girl was silent. She didn’t respond until Sarah pulled beside the curb to the school.

“Maybe you can help me with my clothes and shoes. Sometimes, I can’t find what I need,” Ruth muttered.

“That’s a great idea!” Sarah jumped at Ruth’s answer, and then put the car in park. She tried to reach between the seats for her daughter, but Ruth was already opening the door and slipping out. Frowning, Sarah opened up her door and stepped out.

“Ruth, wait a minute,” she called. Her daughter stopped and faced her.

“I don’t want you to be late,” she said quickly and gave a weak wave. “Bye, Mom. Thanks for the ride.” Ruth turned and slung the back onto her shoulders. She walked slowly, until she saw a friend, and then her whole demeanor changed. The slumping stopped and her face brightened. She even jogged to meet the other child that had caught her eye, Tina, a brunette the next block over in their neighborhood.

Sarah was grateful for their friendship, but at that moment, her heart dropped. When was the last time she had made her daughter smile like that?

Sarah watched the two girls walk towards the double doors of the school. She stayed until they had entered and were far from sight. Even then, she probably stood an extra minute or two before she remembered the time and stole a glance at her watch. 8:31.

“Shoot!” She jumped back into her car and drove off. She owned a cozy nook in Rural Hill twenty minutes away that served brunch pastries and lunch, coffee, smoothies, and teas. It was also a notable craft store, which helped to attract knitting circles and groups. She was constantly adding to a collection of handmade gifts, crocheted bears, blankets, and trendy accessories as the season dictated.

In the summertime, her shop was packed with young mothers and teens. In the fall, college students commuting to the University of Tennessee and another college in Lebanon. The students made use of her leather chairs and computer desks as workstations between shifts. She received good business from the store, enough to support her small family of two and stay stable. She couldn’t have really asked for more, so she tried to stay grateful for the life she was able to make for her and her daughter.

Nights were still lonely. When Ruth was sleeping and Sarah couldn’t yet get there, she felt the loneliness the greatest like a gaping hole in her chest. She hadn’t bothered to keep in touch with the women she had grown to know and love from South Carolina. In fact, she didn’t want to hear anything about the military. She avoided conversations on the topic and essentially blocked that part of her life behind a door she didn’t plan on opening any time too soon. She needed to be present for her daughter and dabbling in the past just wasn’t going to help her get to where she needed to be.

Sarah arrived at the shop around the usual time, which pained her greatly. The morning crew, two university students and someone she was sure was a high school dropout lingered around the door and greeted her politely as they waited for her to open the shop.

Once inside, the morning’s customers slowly began to climb out their cars and wait by the door for the top of the hour. Many of the regulars were retired locals from the neighborhood. If she had picked a place further from the lake, she might have been able to take advantage of the morning commute into Nashville, but she decided that she didn’t want that type of morning energy in her shop. She already moved too fast and deciding on a slower ambiance was supposed to help calm her nerves.

No sooner than the top of the hour turned saw her shop filled with 15 waiting customers, a group of five beginning knitters and young college students who apparently didn’t have class that day. The university was close to 40 minutes away. She wasn’t sure why she ended up attracting that crowd of individuals, but she welcomed their presence and business all the same.

She loved the loyalty of the regulars that came by and ordered the same thing like clockwork. It made her days easy. Predictable. She liked that. It was a luxury not afforded to her when her husband had been in the military. Thus, it was a daily blessing she counted and cherished.

Since she was the boss, Ruth spent most evenings relaxing in a corner. When Ruth wasn’t at the Cafe Lodge, she was with Tina and her parents. The kids played well together and stayed out of trouble. Tina was an only child with lots of energy that Ruth’s company helped dissipate. It was a fair trade for everyone.

Half past twelve found Sarah finally settling into a grove. Tuesdays always took a little longer for her to find her flow. They weren’t as busy in the morning so she often scheduled one less worker to work in the morning and filled the position herself.

Around 11 the town truly started to wake and that’s when two extra workers came in to ensure clean tables, refills of endless coffee if necessary, and extra hands were always available to prepare the café’s signature sandwiches and salad bar.

After stepping away from the front cashier, Sarah retreated into the back office and leafed through her unfinished projects. She had at any given time at least 10 projects that she was working on that would be added to the stock of sellable items on display in the front once they were completed.

Sarah had a custom designed Star Wars alliance blanket she was crocheting. She didn’t use a pattern for the design. She was just winging it. That was something over a year old, but she had grown tired of it and retired it to be worked on later. Perhaps it was time to bring it back out and finish the project off once and for all.

Looking over the mass of yarn, Sarah pursed her lips. Then again, she probably still had 6 skeins to go through before the throw would be complete. Sarah spotted the skin of a teddy bear she had been working on and decided to work on that project instead. Creating animals were her favorite thing to do. New mothers loved them and the crochet crowd always begged her for patterns and tips. She never gave them any, mainly because she never really used any.

She picked up the unfinished project and gave it an assessment. If she focused on the bear only, it was likely she would have it finished in a matter of days. She had found her latest project to complete. Sarah picked out the required tools from a bin and gathered yarn and a row marker. She liked to take a seat near the floor-to-ceiling windows around the southeast corner of the building with a great view of the lake and surrounding greenery. It let her mind soar and unwind.

Sarah left the office and made her way to the front southeast corner in the store and took a seat in an old brown leather lazy boy. Propping up her legs, she set out to work, turning and counting rows. It didn’t take long for the background chatter to blur into the background music like another layer in a soundtrack.

This atmosphere had become the new sound of her life. Relaxing, slow paced, and easy going. She couldn’t have asked for anything better. Finding a groove helped pass an hour and a half in the blink of an eye. Periodically, she stopped to run a thumb over her work. She was crocheting in the round for the large, wide body of the teddy bear. She wanted something extra soft that a toddler could play with, but maybe not destroy.

After several minutes, she was back into her groove and so engrossed that she didn’t see the shadow of a figure waiting patiently at her left.

“Sarah?” The voice was smooth, and the owner waited patiently for a response, but Sarah hadn’t heard. Fifteen minutes previously, she had slipped earphones into her ear to create her own soundtrack of smoothing sounds.