"You won't win any recruits with a speech like that."
"I'm not looking for any."
"No more rookies like me?"
"You're not a rookie anymore."
Selena stood and took the glass from his hand. "Come on. Let's go to bed."
"Kind of early."
"Don't be dense. I didn't say anything about sleeping, did I?"
That night, Nick dreamed.
He stood with Megan in front of the restaurant, the one where he'd asked her to marry him. Where she'd said yes. He felt guilty but he didn't know why.
"It's all right, Nick. It's all good."
"But I love you."
Then he was across the street, looking at her as cars and busses streamed by. She raised her hand. She waved her fingers at him, something she'd always done when they parted. He couldn't hear her, the traffic was too loud, but he knew what she was saying.
"Goodbye, Nick."
Then she was gone.
He woke for a moment. Selena nestled against him, warm under the covers. Nick listened to her quiet breathing and thought about Megan and went back to sleep.
Outside, snow fell in great, heavy flakes, covering the branches of the cedars and laying thick on the ground. A figure dressed in white camouflage stood motionless under one of the trees, almost invisible in the near white-out. He watched the light go out in the cabin window. The man spoke softly into a headset. He asked a question. He listened and acknowledged, then turned and vanished into the snow filled night.
About The Author
Alex Lukeman is a former Marine, professional folk musician and Rolfer. He likes riding old, fast motorcycles, sipping Barbados rum and playing guitar, usually not at the same time. He lives in the Sierra Foothills in Northern California. Readers can contact him through his website and blog.
http://www.alexlukeman.org
http://www.alexlukeman.blogspot.com