Page 28 of Dangerous December
He’d resigned himself to six months of medical leave in the States.
But one trip to the Twin Cities and one twenty-minute appointment with a harried young doctor at the VA had just changed his entire future, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.
Not one single thing.
He slammed his palm against the steering wheel.
Stared at the cockeyed number 16 drooping dead center on the motel door in front of his bumper.What am I going to do now, God? What now?
That last explosion in Iraq had sounded the death knell on his career. He hadn’t even heard it because of the instant,permanentdamage to his hearing that compounded what he’d suffered before.
Hearing aids or not, he would never again qualify for the Force Recon team that had been his life...and his shoulder had been blown out too badly to manage more than basic civilian life.
Ironic, because hehadno civilian skills, unless someone needed to keep a sniper handy or had to mount covert ops against a feisty neighbor.
He leaned his head against the headrest and closed his eyes against the bleak images of what his future would hold.
The Marines didn’t want him, unless he chose to work as a trainer or man a desk somewhere... After fifteen years in action neither sounded remotely appealing.
But how was he going to start over when nothing else mattered?
At a loss, Dev paced his musty motel room, then changed into old jeans, running shoes, and a faded Wisconsin Badgers T-shirt.
He went outside to run, ignoring the flare of pain in his shoulder with each stride. At the end of the block, he took a right, crossed the railroad tracks, and headed out into the country.
The deep valleys and rocky, towering bluffs were ablaze in ruby, molten gold, and brilliant orange set against the dark pines, the air so crystalline clear that it almost hurt to breathe.
He pushed himself until his muscles burned and his lungs ached. He picked up an even faster pace when he reached the turnoff for the state park outside town.
The narrow park road wound through the forest, and up a sharp grade until opening out onto the highest point in the county. His heart pounding, he braced his hands on his knees and drew in deep breaths.
He walked out the soreness in his muscles as he surveyed the patchwork quilt of rolling land spreading out in every direction.
Dense forest, brilliant with a kaleidoscope of rich reds, oranges, and yellows. Sparkling streams and azure lakes, twinkling in the midafternoon sun. Black-and-white dairy cattlein emerald pastures with crisp white fencing and red, hip-roofed barns.
Whenever he tried to imagine heaven, he thought of the lush, pastoral beauty of southwestern Wisconsin.
But now he was here, trapped by the stipulations of his mother’s will and facing even greater circumstances that were out of his control.
If he’d been just six feet farther away, he wouldn’t have been so badly injured. He’d still have the military career he loved.
But far worse, if his men had been farther away, they’d still be writing home to loved ones and complaining about the food and joking with each other at the base, instead of lying in their graves.
Surely an all-powerful, loving God could have interceded just that much.
If He cared.
With a bitter laugh, Dev performed a couple of quick stretches and started down the park road to head back to town at a blistering pace, wanting to feel the pain and the endorphin high that would follow.
He needed just one good thing in the midst of his terrible memories.
Back in town, Dev staggered to a halt, his muscles and lungs burning. Despite the cool, crisp October air, his T-shirt clung to his back and sweat rolled off his face.
Swiping at his forehead with the back of his wrist, he looked around and realized that he’d slipped back into old childhood habits and had ended up in front of his old home.
Sloane House,he corrected himself silently. It hadn’t been his home for a long, long time.
“Now, a workout like that looks plain miserable to me.”
