The Colonel's Daughter (25 page)

BOOK: The Colonel's Daughter
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* * * * *

 

The chapel aisle was strewn with rose petals. In the front pew to the right sat the Colonel with Chelsea at his side. Samantha sat next to her grandmother very lady-like. On the pews behind them sat a few members from Jasmine’s family including some aunts, uncles, and cousins. On the pews to the left sat a myriad of decorated soldiers in their dress uniforms representing Javi’s side of the family. Following tradition, the General and his wife sat in the front pew with others sitting in order of rank. Javi gripped Jasmine’s hand with his white glove as they stood before the old Franciscan priest. Dallas also wearing white gloves and holding Abigail’s hand stood next to them. Abby’s wedding dress was a silk faille pearl studded gown with a silk train that covered the steps leading to the altar.

Father Charles motioned to the first couple for the pronouncement of their vows. Javi faced Jasmine and cleared his throat. “I spent many years not feeling…simply because in my line of work I can’t let emotions take over. I force myself to get over it, and get the job done. It’s like I have a switch in my head that turns all emotion off.” He pointed to his head. “But…” He gave his heart-splitting crooked smile. “I can’t turn off...the very thought of you. Everything about you is soft, warm, and pure love. I vow to love you and honor you and protect you with every ounce of my being.”

The old priest motioned to Jasmine. She looked into Javi’s eyes and gripped his gloved hands. “Javi, you came into my life when I least expected but I have been praying for you. You’re my best friend and my soul mate.” She bit her lip. “I admire and respect the brave man that you are. You are a hero in the truest sense of the word. I promise to honor you and cherish you all the days of my life.”

The Franciscan priest blessed their rings. He then turned to Dallas and asked if he prepared his vows. Dallas placed his gloved hand into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

“The first time I heard the Colonel describe you, I had been dead inside…darkness filled my heart. I sat there and listened to his words. A flame was lit inside my soul like a beacon of hope directing me. The first time I saw you…” He sighed and placed his gloved hand over his heart. “That flame took over my entire being. Seeing you, I know that God has to exist. In my darkest moments out in the desert, I think of that laugh that wrinkles your nose and death turns to life. Even the desert sand that I abhor turns golden and everything is bearable. You’re so deep in my heart and soul that you’re a part of me. You have my unspoken devotion all the days of my life.”

He folded the piece of paper without ever having looked at it. He spoke from his heart and as he placed it back in his pocket, Abby brought a hand to his wrist. “Wait, I may need that. I’m not prepared.”

She drew laughter from the crowd, as many of the women were heard sniffling and fidgeting with their purses looking for tissues.

“My vows are your vows.” He winked and offered the sheet of paper.

“Nah, I don’t need to rehearse or prepare vows. I know that anything I say will be from my heart. I love you so much, Dallas. I’ve told you this before that you’re like my guardian angel. I trust that you will always be there to take care of me and I vow always to be there for you no matter what. You are the wealthiest man I know because you’re so rich in virtues. You’re faithful, you’re honorable, you’re generous, you’re kind, and you’re patriotic. You’re a hero in my eyes. I vow to love you and honor you all the days of my life.”

After the final blessing, the two couples faced the guests and remained on the altar steps. The commissioned officers and saber bearers marched to the center aisle in pairs. They stopped at the first pew and faced the guests. The senior saber bearer gave the command, “Center face.” The officers pivoted forming two lines facing one another. Another command, “Arch Sabers,” was called out. In unison, the sabers were raised until the tips grazed those directly opposite. The guests all stood as Javi and Jasmine made their way beneath the arch of sabers. Dallas and Abby followed.

The senior saber bearer gave the command, “Carry sabers,” the officers obliged. Then he gave the command, “Rear face,” and they pivoted towards the chapel exit, “Forward March.”

The saber bearers prepared for the second arch of sabers outside the chapel in the courtyard. Javi and Jasmine made their way under the arch. The last two saber bearers at the end of the arch lowered their swords stopping Javi and Jasmine. The officer to the right took his saber and gave Jasmine a swat on the butt. “Welcome to the Army.”

When Dallas and Abby passed beneath the arch, Abby raised her finger and gave the officer a warning, “Be gentle.” Following tradition, he took his saber and gave Abby a swat on the butt. “Welcome to the Army.”

 

* * * * *

 

Leaving behind an orange glow in the pale sky, the sun set over a backyard canopy in Javi’s oceanfront beach house while underneath, a live jazz band played at the reception.

Cooper, a Second Lieutenant and one of the saber bearers, jumped onto the stage, said something in the base player’s ear then picked up the tenor saxophone. Someone shouted, “Didn’t know you had it in ya, Butter Bar.”

Sitting at the head table, facing their friends and family, Dallas poured pomegranate juice as if he was pouring pinot noir into Abby’s wine glass then grabbed his glass of bourbon and pointing to the dance floor spoke into her ear, “Will you look at those two, they’re like a couple of teenagers.”

On the dance floor, with gentle rhythmic movements and a hand on the small of her back, Javi held Jasmine in his arms.

Picking up her wine glass, Abby sipped while watching her friends on the dance floor. Taking a final gulp of bourbon, Dallas stood up, extended his hand then led his slender yet pregnant and curvaceous bride to the dance floor. Pulling her in close, he made an effort to follow the subtle Latin rhythm of the horn arrangement.

Drunk enough, Colonel Johnston approached Chelsea, Jasmine’s mother who had been trying to cover her poor sleeping granddaughter with her shawl. The white chairs had been separated from the round table and the guests were either at the bar or at the dance floor. Samantha lay fast asleep on two of the chairs sitting side by side.

“Chelsea, I know that you don’t want anything to do with this old fool. But…I’ve decided not to retire. I’m going back and I don’t want to leave without you knowing something.”

“You’re going back again? Oh, James, I really don’t want to hear it.”

“Alright,” he turned about drunk and uncoordinated.

Watching him walk away, she called out, “All I ever wanted was you…you old fool.” Chelsea, having had a few glasses of Chardonnay, surprised herself with the words.

He turned back as if having hallucinated. “Why would you keep that from me woman?”

“Why didn’t you come after me? I waited for you, James.”

The old man looked as if he was having a heart attack then pulled himself together. “Ah heck, I’ve been a fool for too long, Chelsea.” He put a hand on her shoulders, puckered his wrinkled lips and kissed her.

She stiffened, but as his old lips touched her mouth, her body traveled back thirty-five years. She felt young again and her body relaxed in his arms. “What was it you wanted to tell me, James?”

“That you look absolutely stunning and I can’t keep my eyes off of you.”

“Then why are you running away?” She held her chin up.

“I don’t belong here.”

“I waited for you.” She repeated while taking a step away. “There’s never been anyone else, James,” holding her chin high. “But I know that there’s nothing I can say that will stop you from going back. I’m not going to beg you.”

“Chelsea, come have some Chardonnay with me on the sand.” He grabbed the bottle from the table. “Will you take a walk with me?”

The Colonel held her furrowed hand leading her away from the canopy towards the beach. Taking their seat at the seashore, they shared gulps straight out of the bottle and Chelsea’s high-pitched laugh echoed under the stars.

Sounds of jazz trumpets had been replaced by the crashing waves from a high rip current moving ashore. A full moon beaming its spotlight on the lonely canopy and underneath it, in the center of an empty stage surrounded by empty beer bottles, used napkins, half-eaten cake pieces, and scattered chairs, Dallas sat facing his new bride with her feet propped on his lap

Tilting her head and neck, she arched her back. “I…am…so…exhausted.”

Dallas stared at her round breasts while gliding his thumb from top to bottom along her foot. “I gotta leave in a few hours. I hate sleeping on the plane.”

“Can’t you stay an extra day?”

He took a deep breath holding on to her toes. “You have nice feet.” He changed the subject.

“You have great hands.” She smiled playing along.

Switching off the remaining backyard lights, Dallas and Abby made their way towards the house, and before walking inside, Dallas surveyed the violently crashing waves. “Is that the Colonel out there by the water?”

Abby peered out, “Oh my God, my dad is out there making out with Chelsea. Maybe we should leave a light on for them.”

“I’m sure the Colonel can find his way in the moonlight.” He gave her a pat on her round butt. “Come on.”

Inside the small guest bedroom, Abby struggled to remove her wedding dress. “I think I need help getting out of this gown.” Raising an eyebrow to Dallas, “Uh…are you ok over there?” she asked.

Piece by piece Dallas worked his way removing the layers of his uniform. “I’m fine, I got this…” Getting the button through the hole, he looked at his watch. “Let’s time it. Who can get out of their clothes first?”

“No way, I’m totally stuck over here. You think my belly grew in the course of the day?” She rubbed.

Barefoot and wearing only his pants, he leapt across the room. “Let’s have a look.” He wrapped his arms around her then gently helped loosen her gown while stealing slow lingering kisses on her neck. “I couldn’t stop staring at your beautiful breasts,” he whispered cupping them in his hands.

She moved naked towards the bed and slowly opened herself to her husband. As he kissed her navel, his soul filled with delight. “You’re so beautiful,” was all he could say. After he made love to her, he brought her into the shower and he looked at her standing, dripping wet. As he lathered her body and fondled her breasts, he stared taking mental pictures for those blistering desert days and cold wretched nights. His soul wanted to posses her, so he could make love to her every night while he was miles away, shooting at the enemy and while being shot at, these images of her would remain vividly in his mind.

He sat on the bed leaning against the headboard and once he saw that she was fast asleep, he took his notebook out of the rucksack and wrote her a note. He pictured her finding it under her pillow in the morning and he hoped it would bring her some joy. He wanted to, somehow, make up for having to leave her again and he struggled with his words. He thought,
if she reads between the lines, she’ll know it’s pure love, sweet, delicious love that I feel for her. I have to tell her how much she inspires me.

 

Abby,

In your dress of fine pearls and your bare feet, you do not know what you do to my heart, woman. Dance with me all night my love with no crowd, no musicians. The humming of your heart sets the rhythm and my awkward feet will follow. We’ll undress and your bare back is the strophe upon which my fingers espouse the ballad of our love.

Whom am I kidding? I’m no poet…

I’m just a man lovesick for his wife, the keeper of his heart.

Your husband,

Dallas

 

He tore out the page from his notebook and while folding it in half and sliding it underneath her pillow he remembered how moments before she fell asleep, she had closed her eyes and told him that he had brought her such peace. He ached inside knowing that he had to leave and he longed to bring her to that peaceful state every night.

 

* * * * *

 

Chapter Eleven

 

In full combat uniform and tactical gear and with weapons in hand, Dallas and his platoon marched up the slope on their return from patrol. After pulling an all-nighter and making it up the steep hike carrying their full rucks, some of the guys dropped on their cot, passing out, without so much as undoing a shoelace from their boots.

Sgt. Granados was serving his third tour in Afghanistan and this time around, the soldier with the square-like frame was paired up with Dallas. He was tough and well liked by his men. During their down time, he would entertain his guys by letting them bet on who could take him down. The boys would take turns punching and kicking him in the abdomen but he was unmovable. Some of the punier kids on the squad would take a running head start in an attempt to drop kick the Sergeant to no avail. When he was not being pummeled his second favorite pass-time was bad-mouthing fobbits—the personnel in the forward Operating Base—who never crossed the wire. “Get off your asses you damn fobbits and get a real damn job. Why don’t you come out here with us where it’s actually dangerous?”

BOOK: The Colonel's Daughter
2.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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