Page 52 of Snowed In with her Mountain Men
“Yes,” I acknowledged softly. “But also, his hands. They’re scarred. Like from a fire.”
He nodded, and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. Eventually, he cleared his throat.
“Before we met him, Jaxon did a tour over in Ar Raqqah,” said Oakley. Syrian province, lots of activity. Just before he was scheduled to get out of there, he was involved in a nasty crash.”
I watched him as he told the story. His eyes were focused on the road. His mind, however, was somewhere else entirely.
“It was a CH-47. One of those big old Chinooks, with the double rotors,” he went on. “It came down hard, but Jaxon got lucky; he was thrown from the wreckage. Somehow he managed to run back to it, and pulled five men out of the inferno.”
Oakley’s jaw went tight, as he paused in reverence.
“None of them made it.”
It was deathly silent now, except for the quiet, rhythmic sound of the wiper blades.
“Oh my God,” I breathed.
“Yeah,” Oakley swallowed dryly. “He did what he could, and damned near died in the process. He’s got the scars to show for it, though. Inside and out.”
I tried, but I couldn’t imagine it. I couldn’t even come close.
“What happened after that?”
“They commended him,” Oakley went on. “His CO put him in for a bronze star.”
“That’s nice.”
He turned the wheel and smirked. “Not really. Jaxon told the guy to shove the medal up his ass.”
“Ouch.”
“Ouch doesn’t even begin to describe it. Have you ever seen the bronze star?”
I shook my head.
“It’sverypointy.”
The shadows around us deepened as we left town and turned onto the road that would climb our mountain. I was looking forward to the soft couch, and to toasting my feet in front of the fire. Most of all, I was looking forward to the camaraderie that came at the end of every night. The warmth and laughter that came with sharing my life, after being so very alone, for so achingly long.
“Jaxon’s closest friend died in the crash,” Oakley continued. “He flew all the way down to Savannah, just to tell hisparents about their son’s demise. After that, Jaxon refused to get close to anyone. He was already a crack shot, so he qualified for sniper duty and took the most remote missions possible.”
“Just so he’d have to work alone,” I breathed.
“Yes.”
It all made sense now. “And that’s where you met him.”
“That’s where we met him,” Oakley confirmed. “In the jungle, all alone, covered in vines and snakes.” He shrugged. “Jaxon took missions that were almost always solo, up in the mountains or deep in the bush. He didn’t want to be responsible for anyone else but himself. But then, well…”
“You brought him back?”
Oakley settled back in the seat a little more comfortably. His smile was full of pride.
“Ryder did, mostly,” he admitted. “The two of them bonded over a bunch of New England crap that a west coast guy like me could never understand. But it was Sarge who really crashed his pity party. He slapped the solo right out of Jaxon, and taught him what it was to be a Marine again. To rely on others through working together. That every one of our lives was forfeit unless we were watching each other’s backs, and that it was okay to shoulder that responsibility, in every circumstance.”
“Sarge sounds special.”
“He was,” Oakley agreed. “I’ve never seen the Corps accommodate a man’s every wish and demand, the way they did Sarge. He put our unit together by hand, and for the next three years we were so busy and constantly on mission, there wasn’t any time to feel sorry for anything.” He paused, curiously, for a moment. “Hmm. Maybe that’s why Jaxon’s reflecting on it now.”
