Page 38 of The Captain's Little Girl

CHAPTER13

“What do you mean, he’s lost?” Cricket looked at the uniformed soldier and the man who’d identified himself as a chaplain.

“May we come in and talk to you?”

Not able to even process what was happening, Cricket stepped back into Mark’s house to allow the men to step inside. Caught in the middle of cleaning her daddy’s house, she tugged the bandana from her hair and scooted the mop bucket out of the way. “Be careful. The floor might be wet,” she warned.

Cricket sank onto the sofa and watched the men settle into the chairs near her. “Is he dead?” she asked, struggling to keep tears from falling down her cheeks. Her fingers automatically fumbled over the carefully tied knots in her bracelet.

“We don’t believe so. The captain is a resourceful, highly trained soldier,” the chaplain assured her. “Unfortunately, we’ve lost contact with him. His team is searching for him.”

“So, you’re just here to scare me?” Cricket bristled, glaring at the men.

“It is protocol to notify the family after an extended period without contact. We are here simply to update you,” the officer corrected her gently.

“Is there anyone who you would want to come to stay with you?” the chaplain suggested.

“Yes.” Cricket pulled her phone from her back pocket and called River. “Could you come over to Mark’s house, please? There are men here…”

“I’m on my way.” River didn’t ask questions. All military families lived in fear of a knock on the door.

“We want you to know that we will do everything we can to bring Mark home. His team is highly trained. They will find him.”

An image of the men in training exercises popped into Cricket’s mind. Mark had improvised a gamut of conditions that they might encounter, including carrying an injured teammate or two. The sheer power in their toned bodies and their ability to work together seemed unstoppable. Closing her eyes, Cricket sent a silent message to the team. “Find him. Bring him home.”

“Thank you for coming. How did you know to contact me?” she asked.

“Mark updated his paperwork recently. He listed you as his next of kin,” the officer answered.

Cricket swallowed hard. The tears she’d kept away tumbled down her cheeks. He always took care of her.

The next few minutes went by in a blur. Cricket took the papers and cards they handed her, nodding as if she understood what was happening. Her mind, however, focused on one person. Mark.

River didn’t even knock. She walked right in and wrapped her arms around Cricket when she bolted off the couch toward her.

“The team got separated. Mark’s by himself…” Cricket began and couldn’t finish. A sob welled from her chest to interrupt her words.

“Mark is strong and skilled. He knows more than anyone how to survive until he can hook back up with the team,” River assured her, wiping the tears from Cricket’s cheeks tenderly.

The men standing up drew the friends’ attention from each other. Cricket turned, feeling River’s arms around her waist for support.

“Thank you for coming. You’ll let me know when he’s safe?” she asked.

“Yes. We will keep you updated,” the chaplain promised.

Cricket walked them to the door. As she opened it, a familiar car pulled into the driveway behind River’s. Rosie and Ember piled out of the car the moment it stopped, followed quickly by Hope. In the flurry of questions and hugs with her friends, Cricket missed the officers’ departure.

“Can you tell us what they said?” Hope asked when the group had relocated to the family room.

“They said that the team… The team got separated. Everyone else made it to the extraction point except for…” When her voice broke, Cricket swallowed hard and finished, “Mark.”

“Oh, Cricket!” Rosie whispered, her voice filled with dismay.

“How are you all here? Rosie and Ember, you should be at work.” Cricket looked around the group only then realizing that they’d all dropped everything to come to her side.

“Pfftt! My employees can handle a few hours on their own. It will be good for them,” Rosie told her dismissively.

“My garden grows whether or not I’m there,” Ember assured her. “You’ll love this. My boss, General Berkley, took over my tour today with a group of preschoolers. He loves having the community visit the new green space the company is creating. When I left, one of the kids clung to his hand and called him Grandpa. I may never get to do a tour again.”

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