“I think he’s very handsome,” she said.
The alarm of their arrival had somehow been sounded, probably by Jack from the phone in the kitchen. It brought out Mike, Preacher, and from the general’s house, Walt, Joe and Paul. By five o’clock the men had all gathered and the neighbors were starting to show their faces—the Carpenters, Connie and Ron of the corner store, Joy and Bruce, Harv, the county lineman, Hope McCrea and finally, Muriel St. Claire.
Mel’s delight wasn’t as pure as it might have been ordinarily, but her mood was lifted by their presence. At a little after five, Luke Riordan made his appearance and Mel noticed that Shelby’s eyes took on a very familiar glow. The early-evening gatherings at the bar had been extremely subdued since Doc’s passing; even Shelby grieved. But with the presence of the marines, everything seemed just a little bit better.
Luke was welcomed by the brothers and drawn in with friendly approval. The conversation quickly turned to missions and commands as they compared notes, trying to figure out if they had mutual friends or had served in common battle arenas at the same time. Then more women began to arrive and Luke watched curiously as the men greeted each one as if she could be a sister or girlfriend. When Paige came out of her quarters with the new baby, the tot was passed around from man to man, each of whom took her close and affectionately, praised her beauty and snuggled her like any fond uncle might. Her son, Christopher, was soon riding on various shoulders while Paige was being embraced.
Brie came in from the RV behind the bar, her home until her house was finished, and damned if each one of those men didn’t have his hands all over her belly like he’d been the one to put that baby in there. After a quick feel, they’d compliment Mike on his excellent potency. “You got her cooking a good one here, brother,” Josh said. “Baby, you are more gorgeous than ever!” said Tom.
Then came Vanessa and Nikki and the whole process was repeated again, with bone-rattling hugs and sloppy kisses. It was a whole new experience for Luke. Even in his own family of biological brothers, he hadn’t seen anything like it. But it interested him, the way these men behaved toward each other’s women, as though it was expected. As if they idolized each other’s wives as much as their own, treating them with a fondness that was hardly superficial; an intimacy that was at once deep and completely respectful. The trust was implicit; the affection appeared genuine. The security they felt in their relationships was obvious.
Luke had never lived in this kind of world.
Preacher was poaching fish, steaming rice and vegetables, putting out snacks. The man’s typically serious expression had turned happy and his grin was bigger than Luke had ever seen. Drinks and food were served, the noise grew louder as the evening grew later. Then slowly, the women began to disappear to take care of their children.
Luke had gratefully allowed himself to be pulled into the brotherhood. It scratched an itch he’d had for a while; he’d been missing his own military brothers. But when he noticed that the women had begun to depart, he stole a glance at Shelby. Mel had put on her jacket and with Jack’s help with the children, she made her way out of the bar, leaving Shelby momentarily alone.
Their relationship had just started heating up when Doc died. In the couple of weeks since he’d had his arms around her now and then, but she only laid her head on his chest and sighed heavily, tired and sad. The load of Doc’s passing had been heavy, both emotionally and workwise. It derailed what would have been a serious seduction from him.
Luke went to her before she could leave or get caught up in conversation with someone else. When he approached her it gave him a lift to see her smile.
“I haven’t seen as much of you as I’d like,” he said.
“It’s been a difficult time. Are you doing okay?” she asked.
“Busy. I’ve gotten a lot done without you to distract me. Tell me about you.”
She shrugged. “We’ve been going through Doc’s things. It hasn’t been easy for Mel. I think her heart is breaking, but she’s so strong.”
“How about your heart?” he heard himself ask.
“I wasn’t as close to him as Mel was. I gather their relationship was intense, humorous, conflicted but trusting. They gave each other so much crap, it wouldn’t be obvious at first sight—but they loved each other. She’s been telling me stories about him for days on end—about him going into the backwoods to camps full of transients who could be dangerous, trying to help them without worrying about his own neck. About the way he used to bend the rules to be sure everything would work out for his town, his people. Really, he was an icon. I’m learning a lot.”
“You’re tired,” he said, running a finger along her soft cheek.
“It’s hard work. I don’t know what Mel would do without me right now, lucky I happen to be here. How’s the house coming?”
“The roof leaks, Paul’s going to be coming back out to help,” he said, smiling. “But I’ve sanded and varnished the floors, textured and painted the walls, put in new doors, windows and baseboards in the house, installed new cupboards and countertops. The porch is solid and the cabins all have new roofs, thanks to crews Paul could give me.” His grin became wider. “I can have a fire at night and the bathroom is functional, though I have to do a lot in there to make it nice. Art has a good little home next door. He’s real proud of that. It’s the first time he’s ever had his own house.”
“When we get through Doc’s things, I’ll come check it out.”
“We need some time, you and me.”
“That would feel good. But there’s hunting…”
“There’s hunting,” he confirmed. “Then hunting will be done and we’ll think of something.”
“I’ve committed to Mel and the clinic every week-day,” she said.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks,” she said. “But I’m going to be fine.”
“Then follow me out on the porch,” he said. “Let me get my arms around you for a minute before you go.”
“That’s the best part of my day,” she said, walking out the door with him, arm in arm.
When all the women had gone, the cards and cigars came out. The tables were pushed together and hands were dealt. Luke pulled up a chair and eagerly accepted a fat cigar. Everyone sat down except Jack. “I’m going home, guys,” he said. “Mel told me to stay, but she’s going through a hard time since Doc…”
“Yeah,” someone said.
“The girl’s hurting,” said someone else.
“Tell her we love her,” a third chimed in. “This crap’s hard on the heart.”
“I’ll tell her,” Jack said. “She’s real tough, but there are times that me being around helps. Four a.m.?” he asked.
“Four a.m. Loaded,” Preacher said.
“Listen, if I’m not here…” Jack said.
“No need to explain, buddy,” Paul said. “Mel comes first.”
“She hates it when I shoot at animals. And ordinarily, I’d shoot at them anyway…”
“No explanation necessary, Sarge,” Joe said. “This is one of those times…”
“Don’t burn the place down,” Jack said, going for his jacket.
A few tense and disappointing weeks passed for Cameron with no word from Brandy after their night together. Story of my life, he thought. It seemed that every time he found a woman who came to life in his arms, a woman he could fall in love with, she disappeared before he could grab hold of her.
He went back to the Davenport when the same bartender was on duty. Cameron didn’t know the bartender’s name, but the latter addressed him personally. “How you doing, Doc? Get you something?”
“Yeah, I sure hope so. You remember the woman I met here a few weeks ago? I haven’t been in here since then.”
“Vaguely,” he said with a shrug that was very telling. Cameron was sure he remembered exactly, as the bar had been nearly empty, but it was his job not to see things.
“I’m trying to find her. I didn’t get her name.”
“Sorry, Doc. Neither did I.”
“Well, how’d she pay for her drink before I got here?”
“Signed for it. She was a guest.”
“Thank God! Can you go through your receipts? Anything?”
“That,” he said gravely, “would get me fired.”
“She said she was at a wedding. What are the chances I can find out what wedding?”
“The manager might give you the names on the billing. There was a marquee up in the lobby. Last names won’t tell you anything much, but I bet if you called the newspaper, you could find out if they published an announcement.”
That was Cameron’s next quest, and it proved easy enough. Of course it didn’t turn up any information about the woman to end his search, but he managed to learn it was the Jorgensen-Benson wedding, Joe Benson being an architect in Grants Pass.
He went to Joe’s firm, handed him a business card and said, “I met one of your wedding guests in the bar at the Davenport the night of your wedding. Her name was Brandy and I didn’t get a last name. I’d like to ask her out. Can you help me?”
“Brandy? I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“You sure? Beautiful woman, about five-three, dark blond or real light brown hair and large, dark eyes. Thirty-one, wearing a gold dress…”
“Buddy,” he laughed. “You just described half the women at the wedding. The bridesmaids wore gold. My wife was a flight attendant and the place was crawling with gorgeous women about that age. How’d you lose track of her?”
“You don’t want to know,” Cameron said, looking down briefly. “Turns out I’m not real slick with women anymore.”
“Doc, I’m sorry. I’ll keep your card and ask my wife. Will that help?”
“Not enough, but I’ll take it. Did most of the people at your wedding come from Grants Pass?”
“No, as a matter of fact—most came from out of town. My family is here but Nikki’s family is from San Francisco. And her girlfriends are from everywhere. Literally.”
Cameron was quiet for a minute. “She and I really hit it off.”
“Yet you didn’t get her name and number?” Joe asked.
Cameron laughed without humor. “She asked that I let her get in touch with me. And she hasn’t. I have no idea why. Really, it was…” He gulped. “I have no idea why,” he repeated.
Joe put his hands in his pockets, looked down and shook his head. “Believe me, pal. I feel your pain. I’m just not sure I can help.”
“But you’ll ask your wife?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll be in touch,” Cameron said.
A few days later he called Joe only to be told that Mrs. Benson had no friends at the party named Brandy. The description of the woman he was looking for could match three of her girlfriends, all married.
The possibilities were endless. She made up her name, maybe she’d had a fight with the husband, it could be a real complicated divorce. Or maybe she was rethinking the divorce. Or he was. If he had a brain, that SOB wouldn’t let her go.
Whatever the truth was, she didn’t intend to get in touch, or she would have.
That’s it, Cameron said to himself. I’m through. I’m done. No more talking to pretty, lonely girls in bars.
He realized this did nothing to put him in a carefree mood. One of his partners remarked that he’d seemed depressed lately. He brushed him off, saying it was nothing, but he knew what it was. She had disappeared into thin air. He kept asking himself why. Everything he remembered about that night told him they had a chance together. He had concentrated on treating her as though she was the most special human being alive, and in fact, it hadn’t taken any effort. She had been.
