Page 7

They weren’t on the road more than an hour when Nash looked at the passenger seat to see that Jenna was sound asleep. Her mouth was slightly open, her soft breathing causing him to smile. He reached over and gently pulled her sweater up around her, careful not to touch her skin.

She still had the soft brown hair, now sprinkled with a few gray and white hairs.

But her skin was smooth, wrinkle-free and, not surprisingly, makeup-free.

Her nails were neatly trimmed and filed with the palest pink polish he’d ever seen.

He couldn’t help but smile at that, realizing that it was probably the first manicure she’d ever had.

Knowing they would have to split the drive into two days, he targeted a halfway point somewhere near Sweetwater, Texas. By the time they hit Tyler, Texas, she was still sleeping, and Nash was starting to become concerned.

Pulling into a large gas station for fuel and a rest stop, she moved as the vehicle was stopped.

“Wh-where are we?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

“Tyler,” he smiled. “You’ve been asleep for about four hours. I wouldn’t have stopped, but I need to use the bathroom, and we need gas.”

“Four hours! Nash, you should have woken me. I didn’t mean to sleep that long.”

“You needed it,” he smiled. “Come on. We’ll go in together.”

He realized immediately that she was nervous seeing all the travelers and truckers inside the rest stop. He nodded toward the women’s restroom and then went to the men’s. He rushed his own business just to make sure he was outside the ladies’ room before she came out.

Sure enough, a few moments later, she emerged with her hair pulled back from her face and a more relaxed expression.

“All okay?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you. There was a nice lady in there that had a disposable facecloth I could use. I feel slightly more human now. Is there something here to eat?”

“Well, Mama Irene and Claudette made some things for us, but it’s mostly snacks. It looks like they serve sandwiches, burgers, and breakfast items. We’re sort of halfway through breakfast on our way to lunch,” he chuckled. “Your choice.”

“The bacon smells divine,” she said with a smile. “Maybe an egg and bacon sandwich, hot coffee, and I’ll grab some terrible snacks to go.”

“Perfect. I’ll order while you do that.”

Nash placed the order and then watched as Jenna made her way up and down the rows, filling the small plastic basket. By the time she was done, the sandwiches were ready, the coffee in two styrofoam cups, and the pump to the SUV kicked off because it was finally full.

“Is this all?” asked the young man at the register.

“I think this is enough for a while,” smirked Nash. Leaving with a large brown paper sack, they got back into their car and on the road.

“Will we drive straight through?” she asked.

“No. It’s too dangerous for me. I need to rest before driving more than ten or eleven hours.”

“I could drive.”

“I know you can,” he said, smiling at her, “but my alpha male ways would cause me to still remain awake, worried you might need me. I’m afraid it’s the curse of men like me.”

“Good men,” she whispered.

“I hope so,” nodded Nash. “I’d like to think of myself as a good man. I’ve tried to be. It hasn’t always worked out that way, but I protect those I care for, and I don’t hurt the innocent.”

“When you were a Marine–”

“I’m always a Marine,” he grinned. “I am a Marine.”

“Okay,” she grinned. “When you were serving overseas, you were in active war zones, right?”

“I was.”

“So, you killed people, right?” He stared at her for a brief moment, then looked back toward the road and nodded.

“I did. But it was only those who deserved to die. Those who had killed innocent people. I tried to stick by that rule, but sometimes, well, sometimes in war, innocents get hurt.”

She was quiet for a long moment, and Nash just knew that this had changed their relationship.

“What did it feel like?” she asked.

“War?”

“No, killing someone who deserved it.”

“I see,” he said, his arm resting on the doorframe, his fist leaning against his jaw. He took a deep breath, readying himself for what he would say.

“You think it will make you feel better. That you’ll feel justified for what you’ve done, and I suppose, in some instances, it did.

Like, this time an Afghan warlord had taken all these young girls from a school and was going to give the girls to his men as wives.

They were between the ages of twelve and fifteen. ”

“Oh, my,” she whispered.

“Yeah. I didn’t regret that at all. I didn’t shoot him, but I damn sure created enough rain that it filled the ditch he was hiding in and drowned him. But it didn’t save the girls. His men had already taken them, and they were killed before our unit could arrive.”

“I’m so sorry, Nash. But you tried. You did your best,” she said innocently.

“I guess that I did. I mean, I know the entire unit did what we could, but it still wasn’t enough.

When you’re a Marine or any service member, you take orders from those who often are nowhere near the action.

They’re sitting in some situation room or war room calling the shots, and they see nothing.

“As a man with a conscience, there were times that I questioned their orders and was concerned that they were in contradiction to the situation.”

“What did you do?”

“Sometimes, I followed them anyway. Other times, I walked away. It never mattered because there was always someone willing to follow the order and make the kill.”

Jenna was quiet as a mouse, staring through the windshield at the hot asphalt of Texas.

“Jenna? Why did you ask me that?”

“I wish – I wish that I could have killed those men myself. I know that I wouldn’t know how, and I know that I wouldn’t have been brave enough. But I keep thinking that if I had, it would make me feel better.”

“It wouldn’t,” he said directly. “Trust me in this, Jenna. It wouldn’t have made you feel any better.”

“I keep having these dreams of men coming for me and my sisters. It’s silly, really. They’ve been gone a long time. My mother isn’t in the dream, but my father is, and he just says it can’t be helped. What do you think that means?”

“I’m not sure. It would be something that Irene might know, or maybe Noah or Julia. They’re very tied to our ghosts but also to other spirits.” She yawned, and Nash smiled at her.

“Go back to sleep. I’m not tired at all. You obviously need the rest, and the car is relaxing you enough to sleep. I’ll wake you when we stop again.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, yawning once again.

“Positive.” She gave a soft nod, closing her eyes as she reclined the seat.

“You’re a good man, Nash.” Her eyes closed, and she drifted off to sleep. Nash could only shake his head.

“Yeah. I’m a good man. I just hope you figure out that I’m a good man and much more.”