Hot desert days
and frigid, cold nights, bunkered down under sandbags and makeshift shelters while sandstorms blew over them. He couldn’t even keep count as to how many times, directly after the sandstorms, their troops were fired upon from terrorists who knew the land and had the advantage.
He instantly thought about Carlos, Smitty, and Gabe. All three died that first week. Blown out of their shelter by a rocket launcher a hilltop away. That could have been him. That could have been any of them. That was only one example of the reality of war. They were sitting ducks, and doing his job—completing his missions—was a top priority as well as trying to stay alive and not get picked off.
Salvatore made his way toward the ranch just outside of town and back a few yards from the main road. He loved it out here. Quiet, secluded, yet not too far from town. He approached the long driveway and then made his way to the outside workshop and stable. He could hear the grinder echoing against the metal and imagined seeing the sparks flying as Gabriele worked on the project for the Hendersons.
The grinder stopped as Gabriele looked up.
“How was the walk?”
“Good.” Brutas walked over to Gabriele, and Gabriele pet the dog before Brutas returned to Salvatore’s side.
“Did they start decorating the town for the fall festival yet? It’s two weeks way.”
“Didn’t notice,” Salvatore replied as he walked over to the corner of the room where his work area was and where he worked on his own style of woodwork art.
“You cut through the town from the woods. You didn’t see anything?” he asked.
“Saw Wyatt talking to someone. That was about it.”
“Who was he talking to?”
“Lucia.”
Gabriele stopped what he was doing and looked at Salvatore.
“Was he talking to her about walking through the woods alone? It’s on the outskirts of town, and like we talked about a couple of weeks ago, there have been some stragglers coming through lately.”
“I don’t know what he was talking to her about. Maybe her lack of warm clothing.”
“What do you mean?” Gabriele asked.
“She was only wearing a sweater. A raggedy old thing. But hey, it’s not our business. That’s Wyatt’s worry,” Salvatore said and then pulled off the cloth covering the wooden bench he was custom designing.
“Damn, that looks awesome. Who’s on the list in the bidding war?” Gabriele asked.
“A few people. But I don’t know if I’m going to part with this one. It’s wide enough to turn into a front swinging bench for the porch. Replace that old one Mamma used to use. Damn thing is breaking and rotting.”
Gabriele chuckled. “It would be nice to have a new one out there. Can’t even sit out at night. You couldn’t have done this project in time for the summer instead of the fall?” Gabriele teased.
“Can’t rush creativity, man,” he replied, and Gabriele went back to work chuckling.
Salvatore smirked and felt a bit odd. He never felt normal anymore. He thought the swing would bring back memories of his mom and the days before he left for war. Instead it made him think about having his own wife, a woman to love and share with his brothers whom they could have a family with. When he thought about that, he thought about Lindsey. Even though she was just a means to fulfill his sexual needs, she was still a woman, soft, sweet, and passionate. But he fucked that up. His inability to control the anger inside of him and the damn flashbacks was too much to handle.
He stopped working and gripped the table. He hated feeling like shit and so inadequate and abnormal. Then he felt the cold nose to his hand and Brutas pushing his head against his leg, looking for loving and consoling his master.
“Good boy,” he whispered and took a deep breath, released it, then went back to working on his bench and not letting his mind wander over the things that could never be.
Chapter 2
“I’m sorry, dear. We’re not in need of any extra help. Have you tried in Keanter? That town is a lot bigger than Pearl. Usually there’s always work there,” Mrs. Kirkland from the shopping center told her. Lucia had been to just about every store, and she was losing her faith that something would come up.
“I appreciate the information. I’ll check into it,” Lucia said but knew she couldn’t. There was no way she could get to and from Keanter. She didn’t have a car or any means of transportation.
She headed back out into the cold, the wind now blowing and leaves flying around the streets.
“Lucia! Lucia!” She heard her name and turned around to see one of the owners of the hardware store, Lisa Burgos. Lewis Burgos and his sister Lisa Burgos owned the store. Lucia wondered what the young woman wanted as she made her way across the street and onto the sidewalk.