Heroes In Uniform (154 page)

If he’d known Dale was going to end up hurting her ...

You don’t think I was still carrying a torch for you then, do you
?
Is that why
– ?

Was that why four days before the wedding that made her his oldest friend’s wife, he had kissed Ellyn Neal? Not a kiss-the-bride kiss. Not an old-friends kiss. Not even a basically innocent kiss like she had bestowed on him three years earlier.

He’d been helping her move her things into Dale’s apartment that Tuesday night, while Dale was at a ballgame in one of his series of bachelor flings. They’d been working steadily when she looked up with a slightly misty-eyed smile, and said, “This is like when we were kids, riding side by side for miles without saying a word. I’ve missed that, Grif.”

His mind had been far from the innocence of those days. It had been on the permanence of the step she was taking. On the finality of the door closing behind her ... between them.

Her words broke something in him. He’d shoved aside the box in front of her with his foot, trapped her against the wall next to the closet door with the weight of his body, and kissed her like he hadn’t kissed her three years earlier. With all the heat and passion and desire he hadn’t let himself show her then.

She didn’t fight. She didn’t freeze. She accepted, but she didn’t participate.

And when that realization reached into the small part of his brain that was still functioning, it took only a heartbeat for all that heat to freeze to solid shame.

When he pulled back from her, her lips were reddened and puffy.

He made himself meet her eyes. She made a small sound, and reached a hand toward him. He backed away. Never saying a word.

I never understood where that came from, Grif. It was so out of character.

And that showed what a lousy judge of character she was, because it was precisely
in
character – his father’s character.

Dog in the manger. That’s what they called it. A man who wouldn’t take something himself, but didn’t want anyone else to take it, either.

Was that why he’d kissed Ellyn four days before she married Dale?

Whatever his reason, there’d been no excuse.

Whatever he’d hoped to gain, he’d only lost.

Whatever he’d thought to learn, the lesson had been that he’d made his choice three years earlier and there was no going back.

And the fact that he’d kissed her that way, in that place, at that time, showed he’d made the right choice to start. Ellyn deserved better than him.

So, he’d stood beside Dale Sinclair as he made Ellyn his wife. He’d kissed the bride on the cheek. And he’d become her friend.

Until Dale called him to a smoky bar one night, and the demon of letting himself dream got loose.

“... the release date for the base-closings has been delayed.”

That non-sequitor from sequitor-prone Lieutenant Shaw offered escape from his memories.

“Delayed?”

“Yes, sir. No new date for release yet. I thought with you in Wyoming and Fort Piney on the list, you would want to know. Unless ...” Chagrin took over the younger man’s voice. “I suppose you already knew.”

Grif could trace Shaw’s thinking process exactly. He had a superior officer, who rarely took leave, suddenly decide to take leave. And to Far Hills, Wyoming, of all places. Then the sharp lieutenant notices that a base in the same community is among those the Army plans to announce will be closed. To Shaw’s knowledge, Colonel John Griffin Junior did not exist beyond the Army, so of course his leave had to involve the Army. And the only thing to do with the Army in Far Hills was Fort Piney. Which was about to close.

Grif didn’t apprise Shaw of his error as they completed the call. No sense making his junior officer feel stupid ... especially since you never knew when Shaw’s mistaken impression might produce some information along the way.

So, Fort Piney was on the closings list.

He wondered if the lieutenant colonel in charge knew that. It didn’t much matter. He wouldn’t be able to reveal the information to civilians, even if he did know. Just as Grif could not reveal it. The Army decided when the news should be released and any individual member of the Army who knew the information was honor-bound to adhere to that.

So he couldn’t tell the people of Far Hills that the army base that was such an integral part of their economy was about to be yanked out from underneath them. And he couldn’t warn Ellyn that one of the major advertisers in the newspaper where she did advertising layout was about to disappear.

He grimaced and paced the five feet to the window. The immediate view was a parking lot, pockmarked by Wyoming winters and gritted by Wyoming dust. But beyond that showed a ridge of hills to the north, with a hint of the Big Horns at the left horizon.

His immediate prospects were about as unattractive as the parking lot, and without any inspiring uplifts in his future.

He had to get out of here. What good had he done? A game or two of catch with Ben, a couple reassuring follow-throughs with Meg, a few meals provided for Ellyn. What else he could do for them, Ellyn resisted. What he couldn’t do for them taunted him during the long, still nights. His self-discipline was eroding like a wind-scoured bluff. Crumbling a little more with each breeze.

They wouldn’t understand if they found out he’d known about Fort Piney and hadn’t told them.

Not only Ellyn, but all the others. All of Far Hills, the ranch and the community.

His leaving would be best for everyone concerned.

But the honor that bound him not to reveal what he knew about Fort Piney also meant he had to keep his word. And that meant he had at least two more obligations. One was to fix that path up to the ridge. The other was to an eight-year-old named Ben.

At The Heart’s Command: Chapter Eight

Ellyn had timed it perfectly.

The fact that that was a result of luck rather than planning didn’t matter. She’d actually meant to arrive fifteen minutes earlier than she did at the elementary school for her stint of bringing treats and helping supervise a Fun Friday session. That’s what second-grade teacher Joyce Hammerschmidt called the once-a-month time when the kids ate goodies and sang songs. Ellyn doubted the kids even noticed that their teacher told them a great deal about how America had won its freedom from England around singing “Yankee Doodle Dandy” or about the Gold Rush and mining camps as they learned “Darling Clementine.”

The kids loved it. That level of excitement in a class full of second-graders meant parent volunteers were essential.

She let out a huff of relief as she opened the classroom’s door and discovered it empty. The other parents had obviously already arrived, because there were two plates of brownies, three plates of cookies, a tower of plastic cups, containers of juice and a stack of napkins laid out on a long table at the back of the room.

She was re-arranging the cupcakes she’d brought when the teacher walked in.

“Oh, Ellyn, I’m so glad to see you arrived in good time.”

Joyce Hammerschmidt was a forceful woman nearing sixty. Ellyn was secretly a bit intimidated by her. Somehow when the teacher said
Ellyn
it made her feel as if she should sit up straighter and not be talking. But Ben had flourished in her class.

Before Ellyn could form a coherent response, the teacher continued, “And I was even more glad to see Ben has come out of his funk over this.”

Ellyn stopped with a cupcake in mid-air. “Funk?”

“Nothing major.” The teacher gave an odd little laugh as if she’d said something clever. “Although at this age there’s nothing minor in their lives, is there. Especially after losing a parent. I have kept my eye on Ben, but he’s been doing quite well.”

With the exception of that one bed-wetting episode, Ben had seemed to be doing well, especially since – she might as well admit it – Grif had shown up.

“Although, I feared this incident with Billy Dayton might throw him into a tailspin.”

“Incident?”

Billy Dayton was the boy Ben talked about the most, the one whose house he most frequently asked to eat dinner at, the name listed first to come to the ranch. Except, Ellyn thought with a click of belated recognition, Ben hadn’t mentioned him in a while. She searched her memory. The last time she could remember for sure had been a couple days before Grif’s arrival. Ben had been unusually quiet, but Grif had changed that.

“Of course,” Joyce Hammerschmidt was continuing, “most people think these relationships are more important to girls, but not those of us who work with children. Especially at a certain age, and especially if the boy is vulnerable. Boy or girl, that can make a betrayal devastating.”

“Betrayal?”

Oh God, she was a terrible mother. Her son had been betrayed and she didn’t even know it. Except she had. At least she’d seen the signs. The quietness, then the relapse on bed-wetting, the lack of Billy Dayton’s name. But she hadn’t put it all together.

Because she’d been too taken up with Grif. With the surprise of his return, the mystery of his disappearance, the memories of their past.

“Ah, I thought perhaps you hadn’t heard about it.” Joyce laid a hand reassuringly on Ellyn’s arm. “That’s not unusual. At this age, some boys still take every problem to Mom, but some are starting to think they need to work things out for themselves. Ben and Billy didn’t tell me, either. If it hadn’t been for overhearing a few of the girls talking at recess, and then what Daniel Delligatti said after Billy brought him in this morning, I wouldn’t have known.”

“Daniel? What does he have to do with this? Please, Joyce, tell me what happened. I’m totally in the dark.”

It must break some rule of motherhood to admit that, but she needed to know so she could help Ben.

“It started with the assignment to bring in something that had been created outside of Wyoming, and give a short presentation to the class explaining how it had come to be in Far Hills. Ah, I see you hadn’t heard about the assignment. It’s a bit of show-and-tell, which the children love at this age, but requires some research on their part, as well as presentation skills. I picked up the idea at a seminar – ”

“Yes, but what does this have to do with Ben? And Billy Dayton? And Daniel Delligatti.”

“Well, from what I can gather, the children were talking about what they would bring in, trying to figure out things that hadn’t been created in Wyoming, and Ben became very excited and said he had a great idea. And it
was
a good idea,” the teacher said with a smile. “Showed initiative and creative thinking. I’d like to check with the woman who presented that seminar to – ”

“What was his idea and what did Billy do?”

“Oh, didn’t I say?” she gave a distracted look out the window where Ellyn saw kids gathering near the door into the building. Recess must be ending. “Ben wanted to bring in a person instead of an object. He decided he’d bring in Daniel Delligatti, who most definitely wasn’t created in Wyoming,” she added with a smile that seemed to appreciate the newcomer’s exotic good looks.

“And the only person he told his idea to was Billy,” the teacher continued, pitching her voice louder as the thunder of small footsteps rumbled in the hall outside. “Then Billy turned around and asked Daniel to be
his
project before Ben could. The poor man. He told me he already felt badly that Ben asked, too late. This morning, when he found out Billy had stolen Ben’s idea, he felt
truly
terrible. But, of course, it was too late.”

“But you said Ben had – ”

The door at the front of the classroom swung open with a thud and a ragged stream of second-graders flowed in. Ellyn searched the stream for her particular just-turned eight-year-old, with no luck, though she did see Billy Dayton come in, by himself. Three mothers followed, taking grown-up sized seats along the side of the room that they’d already staked out with purses and jackets.

At last, Ben came in, but he stopped just inside the door, with that mixture of excitement and anxiety on his face that always scraped a little at her heart. Once, Ben’s excitement had never left any room for anxiety. He spotted his teacher first.

“Mrs. Hammerschmidt, is it okay for me to check if – ” Seeing his mother, he broke off to wave.

“Yes, Ben, I believe someone is waiting for you at the principal’s office next door. Please, accompany your guest in.”

Ben’s smile exploded in the instant before he dashed out.

“Class, settle down, please. We want to be polite to the guest Ben is bringing us this afternoon.”

Ellyn looked at Joyce Hammerschmidt. “Guest?”

“Yes. And that’s what I think we need to look at in this whole incident. It did drop Ben into a funk for a period, but that didn’t last. He’s shown initiative after adversity, and that is
so
important at this age.”

Ellyn was glad to hear that assessment, even if she still had no idea
how
her son had done that.

“But who ...?”

The door opened again, and Ellyn could hear Ben’s excited whisper, saying, “Put your hat on, please. Pleeeeaaase.”

A figure stepped in, familiar and unknown, at the same time.

Grif.

No, not Grif. Not the Grif she knew. But Colonel John Griffin Jr.

In full uniform. That neutral green the army wore. With his hat on, as requested, and toting a regulation duffel bag – at least she presumed it was regulation. What she knew about the army was basically limited to the fact that Grif had chosen to make it his life ... and his love. This was a part of him she’d never even fully seen before, much less understood.

He set the duffel down, then was taking off the hat when his eyes met Ellyn’s. She couldn’t interpret any message in his cool gaze – in fact, she was certain he made it unreadable on purpose. Her own expression, she hoped, displayed her gratitude that he’d come through this way for Ben. Her other emotions she’d as soon keep to herself. At least until she sorted them out.

He tucked the hat under his arm and stood as if a General had popped up in front of him instead of five rows of kid-occupied desks and a handful of adult women.