Page 4 of Welcome Home, Cowboy
Pouring her smoothie into a cup, she walked to the kitchen counter and sat. She pulled her computer in front of her to continue looking for jobs as she drank. There had to be something out there for her.
As she scrolled through the new postings on a local job site, hope shriveled inside her.
DOG WALKER
CHEF
BABYSITTER
She had no experience with kids or dogs, not that she didn’t like them. And this smoothie was as good as she got when it came to skills in the kitchen. She could make the basics, but that was it. With a sigh, she grabbed her drink and yoga mat and decided to go do something she was good at: yoga on the beach. She’d found that even if it was raining here, the sun was usually shining just east of the Seaside Bridge. Maybe a few calming poses with nature would take her mind off unemployment, stacking bills, and a certain sexy cowboy turned Marine.
Chapter 2
Lawson tapped his fingers along his steering wheel as he waited to enter into Camp Leon, the military base just outside of Seaside. He was off to a late start this morning, thanks to the favor he’d agreed to do for Commander Oakes. And thanks to the very beautiful, albeit nose-in-the-air, uptight woman he’d run into while completing that favor.
Chuckling under his breath, he turned to look at the fence to his right, lined with homemade banners from excited families welcoming their loved ones. He wasn’t sure if there’d been banners for him when he’d gotten home four months ago. His world had been a blur back then, and he’d half wondered if he was even alive. He was, unlike one passenger who’d been on his UH-1N Huey helicopter. Sergeant Jenkins. Jinx had been young, one of those guys who was full of enthusiasm for every mission. He’d been brave and he’d lost his life too soon if you asked Lawson.
Lawson’s throat burned as he nodded at the young Marine guarding the gate to Camp Leon.
The Marine offered a salute and a “Good morning, sir. Go ahead.”
“Thank you.” Lawson pressed the gas on his Ford F-350. His window was rolled down just enough to hear the roar of helicopters thundering in the sky. As he drew closer to the airfield, he experienced that same feeling he got at the top of a roller coaster, teetering at the highest point, ready to plunge toward the ground at breakneck speed. His heart quickened. Flying was the ultimate rush. What he was feeling right now was adrenaline, not fear. Fear had no place in a man. That’s what his father used to bark at him at every opportunity growing up.
Lawson parked his truck and got out, stretching his neck from side to side, and then rolling the tension off his shoulders. He was dressed like the man he’d worked so hard to become, in a fatigue-colored jumpsuit and his favorite aviator sunglasses. It’d been a while since he’d set foot on the airfield. Longer since he’d piloted a helicopter, but he was ready. In fact, he was chomping at the bit to get back to piloting this morning. He’d been given time off for recuperation from his injuries—just a few broken ribs and a torn rotator cuff muscle. He’d taken the time to drive home to Texas and see his mama. He’d done his physical therapy while he was there. But now he was back and ready to fly.
A couple of Cobras flew overhead as he walked. He didn’t even have to look up to know that’s what they were. Osprey sounded different from Super Cobras sounded different from Hueys. They all had a distinct sound. Lawson’s pace slowed as he listened, the noise growing impossibly louder as he drew closer to the Huey at center field. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, underarms, and at the back of his neck.
Just keep walking, Lawson.One foot in front of the other,he told himself.Fear is for the weak,his father’s voice barked in his memory.
Lawson’s vision blurred as he continued onward. In the skies of North Carolina a Huey wasn’t likely to become a target. But in Afghanistan, going up in one of these was always a risk. Sure, he was a risk taker. Always had been. And he’d always come out a winner.
Until a few months ago.
“Captain? Something wrong?” a young lieutenant asked, walking up behind him.
Lawson stared at the beast of an aircraft before him. His heart was knocking around in his chest like a rabid dog in a cage. It was suddenly hard to breathe. He felt dizzy and…weak.
“Captain?” the kid next to him asked again. Anyone who’d never been in combat was a kid in his eyes. They were still innocent. Not Lawson. “Captain?”
Come on, Lawson. Man up.Flashes of his father yanking his arm and lifting him off the ground when he’d been bucked off his horse as a child poked at his memory. Not wanting to let his old man down, he’d always stepped up back then. Getting back in a helicopter after it’d exploded in the sky, however, wasn’t quite the same. He wondered what advice his father would have for him now if he hadn’t run off with his mother’s best friend.
Sweat sealed his jumpsuit to his skin. Lawson’s legs refused to move forward.
“Cap—”
Cutting his gaze to the kid beside him, Lawson growled out a breath. “Shut up, Sergeant,” he said. Then he turned and quickly walked away.
When he got inside the building just left of the airfield, he veered into the men’s room and vomited. He’d dreamt of flying all his life. In the sky was where he was meant to be. And now he couldn’t even look at a helicopter without losing his breakfast.
What now? He couldn’t “quit” the Corps. This was his life—at least it had been until that last flight.
“Captain Phillips?” The voice came again outside his bathroom stall. Geez. This kid didn’t know when to stop.
“I’m not feeling well, Sergeant. Leave me alone.” He waited until the door to the bathroom shut, and exhaled a painful breath. He wasn’t sick, but he sure as hell wasn’t ready for today. Tomorrow he’d come back. He’d be ready. He wouldn’t fail.
—
Julie parked her car in front of the Veterans’ Center the next day and gulped in a breath. At least it wasn’t raining this morning. She had a fresh printout of her proposal to offer Allison in case funds did show up and new classes were allowed.
