“Um, really? You actually approve? I thought it was a bit . . . eccentric. He’s probably picturing me as one of those chicks that wears pajamas with flip-flops out in public.”
“Who gives a crap? After that, even I want to hear more from you. The world is full of way too much polite chatter. People waste hours with pleasantries without ever giving you a real glimpse into who they are. You may have sounded bat-shit nuts, but you were funny. And a sense of humor is rare and underrated. I’ll tell you something else: I’ve known you our whole lives, and just that little bit makes me see you in a different light, Sara. Your personality literally leaps out. You sparkle.”
“Sparkle, hey? Did I mention in my first letter that I wrote about bedazzled wheelchairs?”
“No. You totally left that bit out.” She laughed. “See what I mean? This is great, Sara. You never know, this could become a little fledgling romance, although if you look at my track record with men, I obviously need advice more than you do.” The last was said in a joking manner, but Sara could hear the sad undertones in her cousin’s voice. She wasn’t even close to getting over the jerk who had broken her heart. But Sara also knew that Chloe shared in bits and pieces, most of them unexpected. If Sara tried to pry, she’d shut down fairly quickly.
“I thought Gabriel made my night, but you may have topped him,” Sara said sincerely. “Thank you for what you said, that means a lot to me. I’m not normally one to joke around so easily with a stranger, but there’s something about the anonymity of e-mail that feels freeing. We’ve never met in person, nor will we ever. So I can be whomever I want, you know?” Sara the spinster has left the building, folks. At least where Gabriel is concerned. “Oh crap, I’ve gotta go. Kaylee is calling.” Sara sighed, already on her feet and crossing the room. Regardless of what she was doing, she could always hear the little girl. Just like a mother should.
“Well, far be it from Nicole to actually get off her butt and check on her daughter. Gotta have her rest so she can deliver that one hour of work tomorrow.” Even though she didn’t respond to the insult, Sara couldn’t help agreeing. She was in no way paid enough to essentially be Kaylee’s primary caregiver. Luckily, she did it out of love and not for the money.
Sara said a quick good night and laid her phone on Kaylee’s nightstand as she lowered herself to the bed next to her. Oddly enough, as she rubbed her niece’s back and whispered soothing words to lull her back to sleep, she thought of Gabriel. She’d looked up Iraq and knew there was a seven-hour time difference. Was he having breakfast now? Was he one of those wretched morning people who woke up cheerful? As she continued to ponder the mystery that was Gabriel Randall, she wondered if he had any idea how much one brief e-mail from him meant to a stranger in North Carolina. A woman who was lonelier than she’d ever admit—even to herself.
Chapter Three
This is damned ridiculous. You’re a seasoned soldier. You’ve been shot at, dodged bombs, and shaken hands with four sitting presidents. You bow to no one, remember? Even as he ran through the reasons why he shouldn’t be excited as he stared at his in-box, it didn’t change the fact that he was. The notification had come through on his phone as he was finishing breakfast in the chow hall. The last cup of coffee he chugged was now burning like acid in his stomach. He’d rather take a bullet than have any of his troops ever find out about this. The fact that she’d even written back was nothing short of a miracle. Pity e-mail? Remembering the letter he’d sent her, he feared it might be a brush-off. Dear Soldier: E-mail me when you remove the stick from your ass. Kind regards, Bored in North Carolina. She’d word it a little better, but he was half expecting that when he finally opened her e-mail.
Dear Gabriel:
It’s great to hear from you! It sounds like we have a lot in common with the whole age thing. Although I’m not sure men are considered spinsters. Assuming you’re single, of course. I think you’d just be called a bachelor. That hardly seems fair, does it? My nickname brings to mind the little old lady in the deck of Old Maid cards. While yours makes me think of that reality television show where the men get to pick from women who look like supermodels. You lucky thing. Plus, the whole uniform thing clearly gives you the advantage. From my experience, it seems to make even unattractive men appear sexy. Camouflage is a real miracle worker. Kinda like a Wonderbra. Not that I’m saying you need it. (The uniform, not the bra.) I’m sure you’re handsome. Heck, everyone has something that works for them, right? At least one feature that others notice. Not sure what mine is. I can touch my nose with the tip of my tongue. Wait, I don’t think that counts.
What is your dog’s name?
Be safe,
Sara
Gabe felt a smile once again tugging at the corners of his mouth. She was so adorable. He’d read her first letter so many times he knew it by heart now. Sara was quirky, and that appealed to him. It was only a letter, and he had no idea if she’d write more, but it gave Gabriel something he’d gone without for years: someone other than his family checking in on him. While he wasn’t lovesick by any stretch of the imagination, he felt he understood the goofy expressions some of his soldiers wore when they heard from their significant other. It wasn’t that there hadn’t been women in his life. He’d been lucky enough to meet some amazing ones. But somehow, he was always uninvolved when he deployed. There was no one pining away for him at home. Well, other than his dog, Trouble. And his affection could be bought by food and petting. Come to think of it, he was typical of a lot of males in that regard.
Gabe figured it was better not to subject someone to his long absences. It didn’t seem fair to ask them to wait for him. And if there’s one thing he’d witnessed over and over again, it was the strain that military life could put on a relationship. So many of the couples he knew with one person enlisted ended up either divorced or living separate lives. That’s not to say he wouldn’t be willing to try a committed relationship if the right person came along—but thus far, that hadn’t happened. He’d loved before, but he’d never been in love. Not the kind he dreamed of years ago, before he turned into the cynic he was now. Although if he was honest with himself, he knew he wasn’t a cynic at his core. He’d just never made finding love a priority, and at this point in his career, it still wasn’t in the cards.
It wasn’t as if he believed that Sara, this mythical creature who was interested in corresponding with him, had just happened upon his life to be his forever love. That would be foolish thinking, and if there was one thing Gabriel was not, it was foolish. Nor illogical. Contact with Sara would be brief and entertaining. He doubted her intention of writing had been anything other than an obligatory greeting to the overseas soldier she had been assigned. Should I nip this in the bud now? Although what’s the harm in writing back and forth for a bit? He could delete her e-mail and let it go. But—he just couldn’t do it.