Love of a Marine (The Wounded Warriors Series Book 2) (2 page)

“Yes, thank you, ma’am, I would.” He followed her back down to their spot under the big umbrella and knelt on the blanket. Queen and the boy followed close behind.

Graciella, she’d pronounced it grah-see-ay-la with an
r
roll, took a small bottle of lemonade from her cooler, shook the droplets off, and handed it to him. He couldn’t help noticing long, tapered fingers with bright orange polish on her short nails.

“Thanks.” He opened the bottle and took a long drink. “I didn’t realize I was thirsty until just now.” He held the cold bottle to his forehead.

“Santos, the dog might be thirsty.” She opened a thermos, poured water from it into the cup-lid and set it in the sand.

Cluny gazed at the stunning woman as she gestured to her boy. Her thick, dark brown, curly hair fluttered around her shoulders in the breeze, the brim of her straw hat flapped, and she set her hand on top to keep it from blowing away. She lowered her body to sit on the blanket across from him, as graceful as a swan.

“Where’d that breeze come from all of a sudden?” She laughed and held tight to her hat.

Queen trotted to the water cup and quickly lapped it up. “Queenie was thirsty,” Cluny said. “Thanks.”

She nodded. “You’re welcome.” She turned to her boy. “We have to leave soon, Santos.”

“Aw, gee, I just made friends with Queen.” He eyed Cluny. “What does she really do when she isn’t keeping you company?”

Cluny laughed. “She sleeps a lot, which is good, because her job is to help me fall asleep at night.”

“I watch TV until mom yells at me.”

Cluny pressed his lips together. “That usually works for me too, but sometimes Queen helps me.”

“Where’d you get her?”

“She’s a genuine wounded warrior war hero. Queen is retired from the Navy SEALS. I got her from Wounded Warriors.”

Santos’s eyes got huge. “Are you a wounded warrior? Were you a SEAL? My dad was a SEAL. He got killed in Iraq by some bad guys. I wasn’t borned yet, so I never even got to meet him, but I know what he looked like because I have a picture of him. Want to see it?”

“Santos.” His mother put her hand on the excited boy’s arm.

“It’s OK.” Cluny smiled at her. “Yes, I’d like to see a picture of your dad.”

Santos dug through a cloth carry bag and pulled out a jacket. He soon found a laminated photo attached to a house key and handed it to him. “Mom says I look like him. Do you think I look like him?”

Cluny studied the photo of a very large, very fit black man wearing standard field-issue SEAL camos. The man grinned for the photographer, a sniper rifle resting casually on this shoulder. “Yes, I see the resemblance. What was your dad’s name?” He handed the photo back to the boy.

“Marvin Jefferson.”

A prickly sensation crawled over Cluny’s back and up his neck. The man had looked familiar. He glanced at Graciella. “Where was the picture taken?”

“Fallujah. The day he was killed.” Pain flashed in her soulful eyes.

“Oh God, ma’am, I’m so sorry.” His stomach twisted into a painful knot. For a moment he thought he might throw up the lemonade, but he gritted his teeth against the nausea. Queen nudged his hand.

She answered in a soft voice. “It was a long time ago.”

Santos apparently hadn’t noticed his discomfort. “Were you a SEAL too?”

He shook his head. “No, a Marine, but I knew some very brave SEALs in Iraq. I fought in Fallujah too.”

“What happened to you?”

Before answering the boy, Cluny glanced at his mother. He wasn’t sure how comfortable she was with the conversation. She nodded slightly.

“Me and some buddies were in an M3 Bradley that got hit by an RPG one day when we were in a convoy heading to Baghdad. One of the bad guys found us first.” He swallowed and took a breath. This was something he rarely talked about, and never with a kid.

“Did any Marines get killed?” The boy’s rapt face stared steadily, waiting for an answer.

“Nope. Nobody got killed, except the bad guys. Some of my buddies got wounded real bad, and I took a hard knock on the head. We were lucky.”

“Is that why you can’t sleep?”

“Sometimes. I don’t think about it much.”

“Was your dog in Fallujah too?” Santos rested his hand on Queen’s back. “What happened to her?”

“I didn’t know Queen then. She was guarding Baghdad airport. She got shot by a sniper.” He smiled at his dog. “You’re fine now, aren’t you Queenie?” Her tail thumped the sand.

Graciella stood and folded the sand chair. “It’s time we got on home, Santos. Help me pack up.”

Cluny stood and pulled the umbrella stake from the sand and folded it for her. “I’ll help you carry your things to the car. We’re a long way from the parking area.”

“We can manage.”

“I’m sure you can, but I’d like to help.” He slapped his leg and Queen leaped to her feet. He took her vest from his pocket and buckled it around her chest. In an instant she was back in work mode. He rested the umbrella on his shoulder and took the handle of the cooler and pulled it on its big sand tires to the parking lot.

Graciella and Santos grabbed the rest of their things and walked alongside him. She pointed to a small, blue SUV. “That’s our car.” The back window wore a SEAL Trident decal.

He loaded the umbrella and cooler in the back hatch. She shook sand from the blanket then tossed it in on top of the folding chair. “Thank you, Cluny McPherson.”

He nodded. “You’re welcome, Ms. Jefferson.” He put his hand on top of Santos’s head of tight black curls. “Nice meeting you Santos. You do look like your dad. Have a safe trip home.”

Cluny returned to the sand and waved as they climbed into the car, haunted by the eerie feeling from the photograph of the big Navy SEAL.

Queen leaned heavily against his leg, made a soft whimper, and stared into his eyes.

“I’m good, girl. I’m good.”

CHAPTER TWO

“Mr. Cluny thought I looked like Dad,” Santos spoke after several moments into the drive home.

Graciella didn’t take her eyes from the twisty mountain canyon road. “That’s because you do.”

“This road doesn’t look the same.” Santos craned his neck.

Her observant son didn’t miss much. “I’m taking Kanan Dume Road this time instead of Malibu Canyon. It’s a little longer, but a change of scenery.”

“Do you think Mr. Cluny knew Dad?”

“His name is Mr. McPherson. Cluny is his first name.”

“Do you?” he persisted, impatient for an answer. Her little man was so like the father he’d never known.

“I doubt it. There were so many Marines, SEALs, and Rangers over there at the time. They all had different tasks.”

“But Dad was a SEAL sniper, and you told me SEAL sniper teams went to help the Army or the Marines whenever they could.”

She sighed. “Even so, I doubt they ever met.”

“He stared at Dad’s picture a long time.”

Yes, she’d noticed Cluny’s odd expression and brief flash of puzzlement. Not exactly recognition, but she’d noticed it. The tall, dark-haired man with the startling blue eyes had reacted to the photograph in an unsettling way. “I suspect he was taking a long look to answer your question, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He gazed out the window. “Did you like his dog? She’s like a German shepherd, but smaller.”

“Yes. Queen is magnificent and well trained.”

“How do you think she helps him to fall asleep? I can’t figure that out.”

Graciella chuckled. “You’re full of questions today, aren’t you?”

“How?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she sleeps next to him, keeps him company. Dogs have a way of comforting those who need it.”

“I wish we had a dog.”

He’d often expressed a desire for a dog, but their apartment complex didn’t allow pets, and they wouldn’t be moving any time soon. Her income from the samba school was unpredictable. She’d placed Marvin’s life insurance payout into a college trust fund for her son, and her monthly survivor benefit check didn’t even cover her rent.

She’d receive her monthly widow’s payment until she re-married. That wasn’t likely because she couldn’t imagine considering marriage until her boy was on his own. Santos’s payments would stop when he reached eighteen, so she conserved as much money for a rainy day as possible.

“Are we coming back to the beach tomorrow? If we do, I’ll ask Mr. Macfearsome how Queen helps him fall asleep.”

She smiled. “It’s McPherson, and no, we can’t come back tomorrow. I’ve got a large group of kids from the Boys and Girls Club coming in for a one-time class in the morning.”

“So I have to stay with Auntie Krystal all day?”

There was no love lost between her and Krystal. Graciella stayed in California so Santos could have a relationship with his aunt Krystal and his grandparents. Graciella’s family lived in Sao Paulo, Brazil, where she’d met and fallen in love with Marvin.

“No, Krystal has a photo shoot tomorrow. You can help me teach the samba class. You dance with the girls, and I’ll dance with the boys, how’s that?”

“I guess so.” His disappointment was quite clear.

“Oh, come on, you’re one of my best teachers.” She’d have loved to see the expression on his face, but didn’t dare take her eyes off the canyon road. “I taught you to samba before you could walk.”

“You taught Dad to samba too, didn’t you?”

Santos knew the answer to the question, but he loved to hear the story of how his parents met. “Yes. He and a few Navy buddies wandered into the samba club where a few of my girlfriends and I went one night in Sao Paulo. We thought they were the handsomest group of men we’d ever seen, especially Marvin, so big and tall and such a happy smile. He had all the girls giggling when he tried to talk to us.”

“You were the only girl who could speak English, right?”

“Yes and no. I was the only one willing to try out my English. He asked me to teach him the samba.”

“And he was a good dancer, wasn’t he?”

“A natural. Every girl in the room wanted to dance with him.”

“But he kept coming back to you.”

She remembered the night clearly. The music, the dancing, and how the level of excitement went up in the club when the group of American Sailors wandered in, laughing and jostling one another.

“Some of the Brazilian boys were jealous, weren’t they?”

She laughed. “Oh, yes, but the sailors were well-behaved and respectful, so nobody could find an excuse to ask them to leave.”

“And you fell in love with Dad.”

“I tried not to because I knew he would only be in Sao Paulo for a few more days, and I didn’t want my heart broken.”

“So you pretended not to like him very much.”

“It didn’t work though, did it? My parents were beside themselves when we got married five days later.”

“Then Dad shipped out.”

“Yes. It was very sad. I wasn’t sure I’d see him again, but he called me a few days later and told me he’d started the paperwork for the Navy’s permission for our marriage and before long I was on my way to his base in San Diego.”

“How come you never took me to Brazil?”

“Aren’t you tired of hearing this story?” She reached over the seat and squeezed his knee.

“No, because when you tell me the story it makes me feel like I really had a dad.” His words sent a sharp pain through her chest.

* * *

“What say we drop in on Gunny, Queen?” Cluny took a right turn on Highway 1, then headed north on Topanga Canyon Boulevard through Canoga Park and Chatsworth. It was a little longer, but he was in no hurry to return to his plumbing business. “My guys are still on vacation.” The answering service would pick up any calls. He’d check in when he got to Big D Construction in Spring Grove, outside Simi Valley.

Dwayne Dempsey’s truck wasn’t parked in front of the warehouse, so he probably wasn’t in. He’d stop in, grab a cup of coffee, and check his messages all the same.

He opened the office door and the little Yorkie, DD, came running and barking her tiny head off. She’d be no more than a snack for Queen, but she was fearless. “Hey, DD, don’t hurt my dog, OK? Where’s your daddy?”

Marla Danaher, Dwayne Dempsey’s wife, called from the small office, “Cluny, come in. I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Dwayne will be back any time now.”

Cluny grinned, rounded the desk, and hugged her. “I bet Gunny doesn’t go far off the reservation these days.” She looked like she was ready to deliver any minute. “You’re more beautiful than usual, boss lady.”

Marla kissed his cheek. “Hah. I feel like a beached whale. Have a seat. I’ll get your mug. I’ve been sitting too long.” Stretching her back, she groaned. “I can’t wait for little Dwayne to show up. I’m surprised I can still get behind the wheel of my car.”

He held up his cell phone. “Do you mind if I check my calls? My place is still closed for a few more days, and I didn’t go in this morning.”

“Go ahead. I’m here to do payroll. Dwayne went to Miss Emmaline’s to pick up Amber. She’s learning how to knit. Did you ever hear of a baby garment called a soaker?”

“Can’t say that I have, but my knowledge of all things babies is practically non-existent.” He laughed when she grinned at him and set a steaming mug on the edge of the desk. “This smells great, thanks.”

“I don’t believe that. You were like a second dad to Amber from the day she was born. What have you been doing with yourself, Cluny? We haven’t seen much of you lately.” She took a manila folder from the desk and put it in a locked file cabinet.

“Queen and I’ve been going to Zuma Beach every morning. The weather’s been perfect.” He blew on his coffee and checked for messages on his cell. “No emergencies. Good. I’m enjoying my short vacation and wouldn’t relish crawling under somebody’s house or replacing a busted toilet.”

“Everything tickety-boo?”

“Yep.” He put the phone back in his pocket. “What do you hear from your sister these days?” Marla’s twin sister, Charlene, had married Dwayne’s younger brother, Donovan. “After two years they must be acting like an old married couple.”

“Char’s still behaving like a newlywed. They love living in Hawaii, and they’re coming to California for Christmas. Then they’ll go to Wyoming to spend a few days with our mutual mother-in-law at the ranch. I can’t imagine what the weather is like up there in December. I get chills just thinking about it.”