Meagan's Marine (Halos & Horns) Page 3

  Meagan felt the change immediately. Whatever it was that Buck had seen, and she had felt, dissipated the instant Niki crossed the threshold into the room. In seconds, the temperature returned to normal. She searched her son’s face for clues. “Buck?”

  “He’s gone, Mommy.”

  Niki’s wide eyed gaze travelled from Meagan, to Buck, then back to Meagan. “Who’s gone? Someone was in here?”

  Buck yawned and rolled over onto his right side, facing the wall. Within seconds, his eyes had closed. Meagan took a shaky breath and walked softly over to adjust his blanket. She touched his forehead, more for her own need, and fought the urge to scoop him up so he could sleep with her for the night. That too, would be more for her than her son. The fact that Buck fell asleep so quickly was a sign that he didn’t feel the least bit threatened.

  She turned off his lamp and straightened to follow Niki out of the room. Her friend turned on her when they got to their tiny living room.

  “What the hell happened in there, Meg? Did I miss something?”

  “I can’t be sure, but I think Buck sees his daddy.” Niki’s eyes grew huge as Meg related the story to her friend.

  “Seriously? The sad man. That would make all the sense in the world, don’t you think? He’d have to be sad at having to leave the two of you behind.” Niki spoke in a low, reverent whisper. “So what was it that made you scream?”

  Meg’s heart pounded in her chest, her adrenaline rushing at the thought of it. “You may not believe this, but it felt like someone’s fingertips brushed the back of my hand, Nik. The air was so thick, dense, and cold…icy cold. And there was this faint odor or something…I don’t know…old, maybe? Decaying?” She paced the room, nervous and agitated. “I don’t have enough to worry about right now? My son sees the ghost of his dead father? Really?”

  “Maybe Buck seeing his dad isn’t something you should have to worry about, Meg. Maybe he’s just watching over the son he never got to meet. Buck has his own, personal, military sentinel. Try to think of it that way.”

  “You really think it’s Chris?” Meagan needed to hear the words from Nik’s own mouth, for some reason.

  A gentle hand on her shoulder accompanied her answer. “I do, Meg. I doubt seriously there’s anything to worry about, but I know someone who may be able to verify it for you. Would that make you feel better?”

  Meagan nodded, knowing she’d never be able to relax unless she got some answers. “I hope so. Who is this person?”

  Niki winked at her and grinned. “You just leave that to me.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Bartending Tricks and Feeling Like a Dick

  “Hey, beautiful! I’ve got a twenty for you if you can show me some fancy bartender tricks.”

  Meagan grinned at the cowboy who’d been trying to get her number all night long. “Is that all it’ll take to make you happy?”

  “For now.” Mr. tall, dark, and ripped placed his Stetson onto the bar and sat back with his arms crossed over six pack abs his tight tee-shirt did little to hide.

  More than happy to do something to cut the monotony, Meagan pulled a quarter-full bottle of Bacardi from behind the counter and flipped it a couple of times in one hand. The simple trick drew a quick response as the attentive cowboy whistled in appreciation.

  “You like that?” He gave her a nod then guffawed as she flipped the bottle, end over end, over her head from one hand to the other, then back again. After a couple times at a single rotation, she eased into a double rotation of the bottle. Even though she found it as easy as walking and chewing gum at the same time, she knew how impressive it looked to customers. She caught the bottle by its neck and threw it straight up, bumped it with her elbow then caught it again.

  Cowboy, along with a few others, broke into applause, cheered louder when she pulled a second bottle from under the counter. She juggled the two bottles, eliciting raucous hoots and whistles from the growing crowd of spectators. She caught the eye of her co-worker and tossed him one bottle. He caught it mid-air, and they spent the next minute exchanging spinning bottles of alcohol to thunderous applause. She caught both bottles, raised them in victory and bowed for the crowd.

  “Well, hell, girl! I’m impressed—and you earned this.” He threw a twenty on the bar.

  “Thanks. We appreciate it.” Meagan stuffed the twenty in the communal tip jar on her end of the bar and grabbed a towel to wipe up someone’s spilled drink. That’s when she caught sight of him, sitting alone at a corner table, his back to the wall, of course.

  “Two more of these, please Meagan.”

  She nodded at the request from one of her regulars as she pulled two icy beers from the cooler and popped them open. She added the drinks to his tab then turned to the second bartender. “Hey Chuck, watch this end so I can go check on that guy, will ya?”

  “You know it, Megs. I wish I could work with you every night. I always make double in tips when you’re around. They love watching you flip those bottles.”

  “Glad to do it! Makes the night go by faster.” She eased her way to the corner table, relaxed and ready to face Mitchell again.

  “Hey there. You must have slipped in while I was on break.” She pointed at his beer. “You ready for another one of those?”

  He lifted his brew, giving it a slight shake. “Naw, I ain’t even halfway, yet. Better hold off on that. Besides, I’ve got something to do tomorrow and I need to be sharp.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, okay then. Good luck with that.” He grabbed at her hand as she turned to leave.

  “I wanted to apologize to you, Meagan. I always seem to be pissing you off for one reason or another, and I honestly don’t mean to.”

  She frowned, and gave him a curious tilt of her head. “You don’t piss me off. What gave you that idea?”

  “The fact that you haul ass and leave me standing alone like I’ve got an infectious disease is a pretty strong indication.”

  She gave him a careless shrug. “That doesn’t mean I’m pissed off, it just means I’m out of patience. I don’t have a lot of free time, you know. No use wasting it on a lost cause. Give me a holler if you need anything.”

  “But—”

  Meagan spun on her heels without another word, cutting him off sharply. She’d thought the conversation had ended, so it shocked her to turn at the bar and find him hot on her trail. “That was quick—”

  “What the hell is it with you, lady? Do you enjoy making me feel like a dick?”

  ****

  Her mouth fell open as she blinked several times.

  “I’d like an answer, please, ma’am.”

  “And I’ll give you one as soon as I figure out how it is I make you feel like a dick.”

  He released a frustrated breath. “I told you, Meagan. Every fu—flippin’—time I try to talk to you, you leave me standing there feeling like a—”

  “A dick. I know. You said that already. What I don’t know is why you should feel that way when I just told you the reason. I’m a busy person. I have things to do. A child, a job, a child, classes, a child, homework, a child, Mitch…a fatherless child. I don’t have the time or finances to visit bars and try to create small talk. I’m sorry if you can’t see the relevance, but exactly what is it you’ve done since you left the Corps that enables you to criticize me for not having enough hours in my day?”

  Meagan threw the dishtowel on the counter, visibly flustered for the first time in his presence, her face lined with stress, her eyes shadowed by dark circles. Something was off, here. Before he could apologize, she stopped and lifted her gaze to his.

  “I’m sorry. I had no reason to speak to you that way, and I’m sorry if I make you feel bad. I have…there’s a situation…I’m just a little bugged right now, is all.”

  He reached out, placed a hand over hers. “What’s wrong? What are you keeping from me?” Mitch could see how badly she wanted to share whatever it was with him, or with someone, anyway. Eventually, the part of her that refused to let her s
hields down won out. She pulled her hand out from under his and picked up the dishcloth again.

  “It’s nothing, Mitch. School is stressing me out, that’s all.”

  “Meagan.”

  She gave him a brilliant smile, without the slightest trace of anger or attitude. “You ready for that beer, now?”

  “Yeah, I’ll have another one, please.” He settled upon the barstool in front of her, deciding to let it drop, for now.

  When she grabbed her purse to leave the bar at midnight, he met her at the end of the counter. “You’re not closing up tonight?”

  She found her car keys and looped her purse onto her neck and shoulder. “No. Red doesn’t ask me to close during school.”

  “Can we talk, please?” He shrugged at her curious stare. “I’d like to clear the air. Can I meet you at your place?”

  Taking a few seconds to mull it over, she gave him a quick nod and headed out the back exit.

  CHAPTER 5

  Marine 1 and Marine 2

  After following her home, he parked on the street and met her just as she’d unlocked the front door.

  “Have a seat,” she said, pointing to the couch. “I’ll be right back.”

  She disappeared into a room down the hallway for several minutes. He heard soft murmurs, one voice definitely childlike. Meagan came out of the room, rubbing her hands up and down her arms as she approached him. Her face at least a shade paler than when she’d gone in.

  He stood quickly, reaching for her. “What is it? Is Buck sick or something?” The icy cold of her skin startled him. “What the hell?” The look on her face had his hackles up, even in the warmth of the small living room. “Why are you so cold?”

  When a quick glance back at the hallway elicited a violent shudder from her, he decided to check things out for himself.

  “Mitch, no!”

  She grabbed at his arm, but he was determined. He strode down the corridor and stopped in the doorway of the room—Buck’s room, obviously. Everything looked normal, from toys lined up or stacked neatly on a shelf, to a small train and track set-up on a child-size table. The second he stepped into the room, things changed.

  The hair on his arms stood straight up as he encountered a wall of frigid air. Ice cold air, with no hint of a breeze anywhere to account for the abrupt drop in temperature. He took a deep breath and released it in a visible puff of vaporized air. He froze in place, instantly overcome by the all too familiar smell of overheated shell casings and gunpowder.

  Mitch glanced over at the child snuggled under the covers and suppressed the need to curse long and loud. Instead, he took two large steps back into the hallway and turned to find Meagan’s wide-eyed gaze on him.

  “Jesus Christ on a popsicle stick,” he hissed. “What the hell was that?”

  She shook her head, tried to turn away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He reached for her. “Hey.”

  She shook off his grip and walked back to the living room, with him following closely behind her.

  “I think you need to go. I just remembered I’ve got some studying to do.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  “I would, but the truth is, I don’t know how to answer that.” She walked to the front door and held it open for him. “Good night.”

  He met her at the door. “Barring what happened in your boy’s room just now, whatever the hell that was or wasn’t, we still haven’t cleared the air between us.”

  Her eyelids closed as she muttered a mild oath under her breath.

  “But, I can see you’re too tired for any of that, so I’ll leave you alone if you agree to reschedule our talk.” Simply telling himself she looked tired would have been the mother of all understatements. The girl looked as though she hadn’t slept in weeks.

  “I’ve got an exam to study for and I’m taking Buck to Lake Front Park tomorrow afternoon. Sunday is my only day off all week.” She lifted one brow at his grunt of disappointment. “I told you I was busy. Now do you understand why I can’t waste time? I don’t have any.”

  “I understand,” he conceded. “What time should I be there?”

  “Where?”

  “The park. You mind if I hang with y’all a bit?”

  She shrugged. “It’s a public park. You have as much right to be there as anyone, but I value my playtime with my son.”

  Mitch turned, released his breath in a huff and headed down the steps mumbling. “Well, I’ve had about all the rejection I can take for one night.”

  “Around two!” she called after him.

  He stopped and faced her again, ready to fire off a ‘don’t do me any favors’ comment, but her angst-ridden face stopped him. More than anything, he was thankful she’d relented. “I’ll be there.”

  He drove to his recent rental, a sparsely furnished two-bedroom house, still thinking about the encounter with whatever the hell that was.

  Later, he lay in bed, trying to recall everything he’d experienced in Buck’s room. The frigid temps that turned his breath as frosty as an Arctic front, the heaviness in the air, and above all…the smells. The distinct odor of sand, dust, grit and grime. He hadn’t dared close his eyes in that room, sure if he had, he’d have been transported back to the sandbox—back into the thick of Afghanistan. Whatever went on in that place had a negative effect on Meagan, and maybe her son, too.

  He tried to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, he imagined the icy cold sweeping through him.

  He swung his legs out of bed and pulled on a clean pair of jeans to pace his apartment. Recognizing defeat when it bitch-slapped him, he grabbed his wallet and keys and climbed back into his truck. Ten minutes later found him parked in the driveway of the empty house next to Meagan’s place, the one with the real estate agency’s FOR SALE sign planted in the front yard.

  There couldn’t have been more than thirty feet between the two homes, and less than that from where he’d parked his truck to what he figured was the window of Buck’s bedroom. He turned, stretching his legs out on the bench seat of the Chevy work truck he’d purchased from a friend. With the passenger window down, and his back propped up against the driver’s side door, Mitch knew he’d hear if anything went wrong during the night. This was actually a hell of a lot more comfortable than the hide sites he’d dug into in his earlier years with the Corp, before promotions had him in on the planning, rather than executing, missions.

  That single night of surveillance shed some serious light on Meagan’s situation. The lamp in Buck’s room flipped on for a short period at least three times during the night. Through the curtains, he could see the shadowed figure of someone in the room seconds before the light went out again. Meagan, no doubt, up and checking on her son. No wonder she was exhausted. Whatever was going on had totally disrupted her life.

  He managed to sneak off a little before 5:00 a.m., hopefully before she saw his truck parked next door. He crawled back into his bed for a couple hours of sleep, wondering how best to get the truth out of her at the park later in the day.

  CHAPTER 6

  Kites and Confessions

  Mitch found Meagan’s car at the park’s entrance, near the playground. He pulled into the empty spot next to hers, grabbed a bag from his truck seat and swung it over his shoulder.

  It didn’t take long to find the two of them, spinning on the merry go round. Meagan pushed with one leg while she held on to Buck, tucked protectively in her arms. Judging by the huge grin on Buck’s face, the kid was having a blast.

  “Hey buddy!” Buck said, between giggles.

  Mitch chuckled as he set the bag down on the nearest table and approached them. “Hey yourself, buddy boy! Do you want to go faster? Hang on tight, mom.”

  Meagan lifted her foot and grabbed onto the bar for security as Mitch put some muscle into his spins.

  Even the near-blurred glimpses he caught of her face revealed her exhausted state. Her eyes, shadowed by dark circles told the tale o
f too damn many sleepless nights. After several high-speed spins, he heeded her plea to slow down to a more comfortable pace. Several more minutes passed and he slowed it down enough to jump on with them. He continued pushing slowly as he faced Meagan and her son.

  “How’s it going?”

  “In circles, right now.” A tired smile accompanied her comment. “Buck, do you remember Mitch?”

  Buck studied him before nodding. “Yeah, but you don’t look like my daddy today.”

  Mitch gave his head a slow shake as he smiled down at the boy. “No, buddy. I’m just dressed regular today.”

  Meagan put one hand to her face and released the barest hint of a groan.

  Mitch slowed the contraption until it came to a gradual stop. “I think that’s enough merry go round for one day, Buck. We don’t want you getting sick on us or anything.” Buck’s protest came to an abrupt halt when Mitch added. “Then you wouldn’t be able to help me fly this cool thing I brought with me.” He pulled out a large kite painted to look like one of those prehistoric bird dinosaurs. He had an entire explanation at the ready, when Buck took the wind from his sails with his reaction.

  “Look, Mom, it’s a te-wo-dactyl!”

  Meagan laughed as Mitch’s jaw dropped open. “He knows what a pterodactyl is already?”

  “Not only that, but wait. Buck, can you spell pterodactyl for Mitch?”

  Mitch’s mouth dropped open even further as the toddler proceeded to spell the word out for him. Mitch nodded in approval. “That’s close, buddy, but I’m not sure about that P at the beginning.”

  Meagan released a soft chuckle as she nodded at her son’s questioning gaze before turning to Mitch. “There’s a P, believe me. That boy is obsessed with dinosaurs and that’s about his favorite. How’d you know?”

  Mitch shrugged. “I didn’t. It was between that or a bat, or a pink princess. The choice was obvious.” He leaned in closer. “Are you positive about that P?”