Taming GI Jane Read Free

A grin spread across his face at the site of the U.S. Army hummer, complete with a big, strapping soldier, parked in front of his office.
    “Thank God,” Tom muttered wearily, stepping onto the wide, wooden porch.
    “Or Uncle Sam,” Reg suggested from beside him.
    Tom’s grin, and hopes, faltered when the soldier gave a curt wave and drove away, leaving nothing but a thick cloud of dust behind him.
    Reg’s hand fluttered to his throat. “Gee, do you think it was us?”
    Tom shot him a pointed glare, then stared after the retreating vehicle. Just as a frustrated four-letter word blew past his lips, Tom noticed a silhouette forming as the dust settled. He squinted to make out the figure standing some twenty feet away.
    The first word that came to mind when the dust cleared completely was uniform .
    Then, tiny.
    Staring right back at Tom stood a mite of a soldier whose duffel ba g surely outweighed her by twenty pounds. And it was definitely a her, he decided after his second appraisal of elfin features. Even wearing the shapeless camouflage military getup, she was obviously female. Whether it was those slight, but still distinguishable, curves or that pretty face, Tom wasn’t sure. He was only sure that it had to be a mistake.
    She had to be a mistake.
    In one smooth, seemingly effortless move, the woman pulled the heavy duffel bag onto her back and marched across the dirt road, up the steps, onto the porch and straight up to Tom and Reg.
    “Mr. Caldwell?” she asked of Reg.
    “Oh, no, sweetie,” Reg said knowingly. “It’s him you want.” He gestured in Tom’s direction.
    After turning to Tom, the little soldier announced, “Sergeant Passerella reporting for duty, sir.”
    Any fleeting hope Tom had left withered and died on the spot. “There must be some mistake,” he blurted before he could stop himself.
    “Oops, time for me to go,” Reg volunteered. “Don’t forget to talk to the new arrivals, sir ,” he added before scurrying away.
    Tom clenched his jaw against the directions he wanted to give Reg on just where he could go. He would settle with him later. Right now, Tom turned back to the half-pint soldier in front of him. He had to deal with her.
    “Is there a problem, sir?”
    “ You’re the drill sergeant General Suddath assigned to act as Camp Serenity’s PT coach?” Tom asked lamely, and for lack of anything else to say.
    “Yes, sir,” she answered quickly. “I’ll be organizing the physical training program for your youth camp, sir. With your approval, of course,” she added efficiently. Too efficiently.
    She was an absolute featherweight, Tom noted again, his gaze sweeping her petite frame. He was surprised that she even met the minimum weight requirements for military duty. And those deep brown eyes. He found himself staring into those wide, expressive depths. How could this beauty be a drill sergeant?
    “Is there something wrong, sir?”
    Her question snapped Tom back to reality. This would never work. The boys, and some of the girls required to attend the program at Camp Serenity would outweigh this little soldier by seventy or eighty pounds. Not to mention that many would tower over her by several inches, if not a full foot.
    Tom searched for the right words. Nothing came. “I’m sorry, Sergeant Passerella, you’re just not what I expected in the way of help.”
    Her expression remained neutral. “If you’re concerned about my being able to handle myself, put your mind at ease, sir. I haven’t met a woman or a man yet that I couldn’t hold my own with,” she explained, a subtle challenge in her tone. “I’m quite certain this assignment won’t change my record.”
    “Some of these kids look like lineb ackers for the Tennessee Titans,” Tom said just as pointedly. “In the last group we even had a couple who were more than a little violent. They had to be dragged away in handcuffs.”
    She didn’t flinch. “I understand, sir.” Her impatience showed through her