A Marine For His Mum

Speaking of your mom, please thank her for sending that box of her cookies. When I shared them with all the guys on my floor, I was more popular than PFC Spooner, whose dad sends him magazines with— Well, I’ll tell you about those when you’re older.

I got the list you sent me with the names of every local police department that is hiring. I’m really not sure if I’m going to try to be a civvie cop. And I’m definitely not going to love Idaho “the way a drunk loves a martini.” Does Jake Marconi even know what a martini is? Anyway, I’ll keep you posted on when I can start having visitors.

Cooper

Cooper hadn’t been lying to the kid. The surgery really had gone pretty well. It was too soon to tell if he’d make enough of a recovery to reenlist, but he didn’t have the heart to tell Hunter that there was no way he planned to stay in Idaho permanently.

It was bad enough that he’d been putting off Hunter’s visit, but, honestly, he didn’t know if he could handle being around Maxine Walker again. The woman had brought out the worst in him that day at the baggage claim area, and it had been all he could take when she’d had to help lift him out of the airport-issued wheelchair and into her car.

She’d smelled as incredible as she looked. And the drive to the hospital had been just as intense as the woman’s forced smile when Hunter had insisted on waiting for the admission paperwork to be completed and for the nurse to wheel him away to the orthopedic wing.

He didn’t look forward to having to endure Maxine’s stiff presence, but at the same time, he couldn’t wait to see her again. To smell her again. Hell, to feel her hands on him again—even if it meant asking her to help him get out of this damn hospital bed to hit the head.

A light blinked on the bottom of his open laptop and he pulled the wheeled tray table closer to him.

He was receiving a Skype call from Dr. Gregson. The damn shrink was the one to blame for the whole mess. Back in September, Gregson had gone right over Cooper’s head and his objections. He’d purposely sought out Cooper’s commander to force him to participate in the pen pal program, knowing full well the honor-bound marine couldn’t refuse a direct order.

As Cooper clicked on the mouse to connect their call, he had a lot more than some soul cleansing to discuss. There was hell to pay.

“Gregson,” he bellowed, when the counselor’s grainy image jumped onto his screen.

“How’d the surgery go, Gunny?”

Cooper relayed what Dr. McCormick had told him, including the part that his leg would never be 100 percent.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I know the Corps was your life.”

“Yeah, well...” he cursed, though it hardly raised one of Dr. Gregson’s eyebrows.

“Language, Gunny.”

“Do you have to be such a sainted do-gooder all the time?”

“Do you have to be so cranky and miserable all the time? Here I thought you’d like Shadowview, being close to your pen pal and all that.”

“That’s another thing, Gregson. I’m still pissed about that whole program. I told you I didn’t want to play pen pal to some kid. And yet you went up my chain of command and had me ordered to participate? You made me look like a loose cannon to Colonel Filden. And now he, and probably everybody else in my unit, thinks I’m some lonely PTSD candidate who needed a damn morale boost.”

The only man Cooper had opened up to in his almost sixteen years in the Corps now sat behind a web cam with a self-righteous smirk on his saintly face. Gregson might make a good psychologist, but he was too softhearted to be a marine in a combat zone.

“I gave you the opportunity to accept graciously, Coop. You forced me to take it up with Colonel Filden.”

It was hard to stay angry at Gregson when he simply sat there, passively and politely nodding his head and listening to Cooper’s heated argument. Did they teach shrinks to smile and nod like that in grad school?

“Why are you still so upset about that?” Gregson asked. “What else did you have to do when you were off duty? You never associated with any of your fellow troops. And you never went anywhere besides the chow hall and the weight room. And look at what you got out of the program.”

“The decision should have been mine to make.” Cooper tried to scratch under the bandage covering his recent incision. He knew Gregson was right and that meeting Hunter had been exactly what Cooper needed in his life at the time. Hell, his letters and emails with the boy were the only thing that got him through the aftermath of that explosion at the base, followed by a helo evac to Okinawa, where he’d had to stay while his body and leg stabilized enough to fly back to the States for surgery. If it hadn’t been for Gregson, Cooper wouldn’t have Hunter in his life.

Nor would his pain-addled mind be hosting those damn dreams of wrapping Maxine’s sexy blond curls around his fingers. Being laid up in the hospital was making him stir-crazy and had his emotions spinning all over the place. Logically, he knew this situation that he’d landed in wasn’t Gregson’s fault, but the fact remained that his leg hurt, his pride hurt and he wanted to be mad at someone.

But Gregson didn’t get riled. Instead, he changed the subject. “So when the knee replacement surgery is over, how long will it take to recover?”

“I’ll stay in the hospital for a couple more weeks, doing rehab, and then they’ll release me to go home, provided I come in for regular physical therapy sessions. But that could take weeks.”

“Where would you stay?”

“I don’t know. I guess a motel somewhere. Or I could probably rent a furnished apartment. I’m just trying to take everything one day at a time.” Gregson knew enough about Cooper’s background that he didn’t have to expand on the fact that he didn’t really have a home to go to. Even the apartment he’d once lived in as a boy never felt like a home since his mom had died and his stepdad never wanted him around. When Cooper had been married to Lindsay, she’d tried to make their tiny house on base a home, but it just always seemed so forced—as if they were just playing house. He was always more comfortable being on deployment than living with her, which was probably why their marriage didn’t last.

“You know, my family lives in Boise. We have a cabin up in Sugar Falls you could use.”

“I’ve got news for you, Gregson. Spending time in your quaint little vacation hideaway isn’t going to give me back anything I’ve lost.”

“Well, if you’re going to keep your expectations low, you might as well do it in Sugar Falls, where it’ll be more comfortable than some no-tell motel. Use the cabin, let your knee heal and think about your options if you can’t reenlist. What are you so afraid of?”

Cooper bristled at the implication that he was afraid of anything. He had both a silver star and a purple heart to prove otherwise, and Gregson knew it. But Sugar Falls meant seeing Maxine on a regular basis and Cooper was smart enough to understand that hiding out in enemy territory wasn’t brave, it was downright foolish.

“Forget the reverse psychology crap,” he told the doctor. “I know they teach that BS in shrink school and Terrorist Interviewing 101, but it won’t work on me.”

“You and I both know the real reason you don’t want to spend any time with the kid. You don’t want to risk getting close to anyone. It might mean creating a crack in your hard shell of a heart.”

Cooper gritted his teeth at the unwelcome analysis, his jaw fixed even harder than his alleged heart at that moment. Hell, he wasn’t even a patient of Gregson’s. The only thing they had in common was a proclivity for using the weight room after everyone else in their units had hit the rack.

When Cooper didn’t respond, Gregson continued. “You know, maybe if you would’ve had a positive male role model back when you were a fatherless fifth grader, it wouldn’t have stunted your emotional and social growth.”

“Yeah, and maybe if you’d had a date or two while studying for your PhD, it wouldn’t have stunted your ability to get laid.” Cooper slammed the laptop closed.

“Uh, hello?” a feminine voice asked from behind the curtained partition that barely provided any privacy from the busy hospital floor.

“Yeah?” Cooper responded as he used the trapeze handle to lift himself up into a better position on the narrow bed.

Right before his brain registered the owner of the voice, Maxine Walker’s very pretty face peeked around the curtain and her large blue eyes locked on to his. “Are we disturbing anything?”

He practically knocked the tray table over in his haste to pull the bed sheet over his exposed legs. Damn these short hospital gowns.

What was she doing here? And how much of his conversation had she just heard?

“Uh, no. I was just talking on Skype with my buddy and uh...” He trailed off as she lifted a perfectly arched eyebrow at the closed laptop. “What are you doing here?”

There he went again with that gruff accusatory tone, the defensive one he found himself reverting to whenever he was in an uncomfortable situation. He saw the ugly little cellophane-wrapped plant in her hands and tried to force his lips into a smile so he wouldn’t seem like the world’s biggest bastard for barking at her in such an ungrateful way.

“Hunter said you could have visitors, so I brought him down and...” She paused as her gaze swiveled around the room and then behind her into the corridor, as if she’d lost something. “Well, he was with me just a second ago. Maybe I should go find him.”

She turned to walk out, and he pulled himself up as if he could will his useless body to physically stop her from leaving. “Wait, you don’t have to go. I mean, I’m sure he just got distracted and will be along any minute.” Cooper nodded his head toward the wilted green thing in the plastic pot. “Is that for me?”

“Oh, this? It’s just a little something to cheer up your room.” She walked toward the small window and set the plant on a bare cabinet, causing some curling leaves to fall off their stems.

He’d seen interrogation huts in third world countries more cheerful than that dying shrub. But he thanked her all the same.

“So, the surgery went okay?” Now that her hands were empty, she’d reverted back to that same stance she’d displayed at the airport—arms crossed tightly across her torso.