Always a Marine 21 - Lest Old Marines Be Forgot by Heather Long Read Free Book Online Page A

voice choked with tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to start crying….”
    Shifting enough to reach a box of tissue, he held it out to her and smiled. “It’s quite all right. Honoring the man you loved, even with tears, is a thing to behold.”
    When she moved away from him, he relaxed his grip on her and closed the doors to block out the chill.
    “You’re being unbelievably nice about this.” She dabbed at her eyes, but the tissue wasn’t quite up to the task of fixing the black streaks the tears had made of her mascara.
    He’d never been a man gifted with words, and he wanted to tell her the right thing. Uncertain of what that could be, he went with his gut. “I don’t know anyone who would cry even five minutes for me much less every year, for thirty years.” Considering what she’d told him earlier, he kept a watch on her respiration; she wasn’t panting or showing any shortness of breath.
    “I’ve only known you a few hours and I’d cry for at least that long.” She managed a watery laugh and a hint of her earlier sparkle returned. “I can’t believe I almost forgot.” She saw the dark stains on the tissue and grimaced. “Oh, Lord, the makeup.”
    “It’s really not that bad,” he lied, catching her before she could flee into the bathroom to see the damage for herself. “Here….” Taking a fresh tissue, he carefully dabbed at her face. No one who knew him would believe that he’d stand there trying to help a woman clean up the evidence of her tears, but something about this one provoked a deep and protective instinct in him.
    No way could he let her suffer alone, and seeing the black streaks would only increase her level of embarrassment. “But you didn’t forget, you simply didn’t dwell on it.” He picked up the thread of her earlier statement.
    She sighed. “No, I forgot. For a little while, I was only thinking about you.”
    “And how are you feeling now?” Maybe his short visit to Luke’s little pet project had rubbed off. He wouldn’t look too closely at why he was asking her about her feelings.
    Frowning, she seemed to consider the words. “Embarrassed? Sad and, maybe, a little worried.”
    The first two he understood. “Why worried?”
    “Usually when I start crying, I can’t stop myself and—” She winced.
    “And you had an episode like when you passed out?” He didn’t smile at the mild shock on her face. Yes, he’d been paying attention when she told him that downstairs.
    “Yes.” But though sadness lingered in her eyes, her tears had begun to dry. She pushed a hand through her hair and brushed it away from her face. “I—but I don’t understand.”
    Uncertain if she meant why hadn’t she continued crying or how she’d forgotten, he pursued a third idea. “Have you ever been with someone on New Year’s?”
    “Oh, God, no, I usually spend it alone with a bottle of wine, and a box of pictures, or maybe a movie. I figure if I’m going to be miserable, I should do it up right. And no one needs to see me fall apart.”
    And therein lies the key . “Tonight, you’re not alone. You’re starting this new year off a little differently.” He paused. “We both are.”
    “Yeah?” She sniffed, but her lips tilted upward. “Where were you last New Year’s?”
    “In Germany. I was posted there. Iraq for the four years before that.” He had to think about it. “Afghanistan on and off for six years. Though two of those were spent at Pendleton overseeing training exercises. Africa, Okinawa, the Atlantic Ocean, Japan—a detail in Belgium for a short time.”
    “The Pacific Ocean?” She dabbed her nose, a puzzled frown drawing her brows together. “I don’t understand….”
    “Aboard the USS Bataan.” Unlike some of his fellows, he’d enjoyed the hell out of that assignment—sailors notwithstanding. “I haven’t celebrated as a civilian in years, so as you can guess—you’re loads better than some of my previous companions.”
    A soft laugh