Two Days Of A Dream Read Free Page B

Mark, the guys had stayed clear. Nattie in HR, who was getting married next month, told Kelly she intimidated the men. Okay, maybe I do intimidate them, she admitted, well ... I have to . If she didn't, they wouldn't follow her lead and nothing would get done. Brinker, today, had been a prime example. The game had the same rules for everyone. The difference: Kelly always won.
    The same old questions hounded her. Where did all of this leave her? What kind of man did she want?
    A demanding, unappreciative person, her father never had a kind word or action for anyone. She wasted her youth trying to please him. She certainly did not want anyone like the monster that drove her mother into an early grave.
    She shook herself and breathed deep before forcing her feet forward, away from the pity party. Try as she might though, she couldn't ditch the thoughts and, they followed her through the condo. Where could she find a strong man who wasn't a control freak and denigrator? If there were any in her company none lifted their heads. She wanted a strong man who was an honorable leader and would make a worthy partner for the rest of their lives. She wanted someone to be the man so she could be the woman, someone like John Wayne or Ronald Reagan. Kelly didn't think they made them like that anymore. She sighed. If only life were like an old black-and-white movie where there was always a hero.

Chapter Four
     
    The morning’s brilliance blinded Captain Duran’s sleepy eyes, so he put on his field sunglasses. Another cloudless, hot, dry day deep in the Middle East. Here in this desert, he temporarily made his home. Only three more months before his rotation was up.
    When he received orders for his squadron to ship out he was excited about seeing this part of the world. But after the first week here, he’d seen it all. Duran and his men scanned the bland, desolate scenery so often they named the sand dunes after mountains back home. Even the tan mountains in the far distance no longer held any interest for him.
    He missed the rolling plains of Kansas. He once thought the common sights of his childhood home bland and lifeless. He snorted under his breath at the memory. When he turned his back on home to go to college and join the Marines he had no idea what lifeless really meant. He found it funny that whenever he allowed himself to think of home, he missed weeding the family vegetable garden the most. The chore that he complained about more than any of the others became his most cherished memory. The thought made him smile. What he wouldn’t give right now to be on his knees weeding beans with his younger brother, Thayne, tossing insults and stories back and forth. Then later with one of his mother’s blue-ribbon tomatoes – bigger than one hand could carry – he’d rest from his labors under the old oak tree in the side yard while he ate the juicy, meaty vegetable like an apple.
    I sound like an old man, he grumbled, and I’m barely into my thirties.
    He passed the Mess tent and his stomach grumbled. He needed sleep more than he needed food and shushed the complaint. Besides, he doubted there would be any blue-ribbon tomatoes within a hundred miles. The cacophony of voices emanating from the tent made him smile. Not even the rash of nighttime attacks had the men down. On the contrary , he thought , they were pumped at the challenge. Their eagerness bubbled over into boisterous conversations that exploded with laughter. Duran reveled in the sound.
    What brought on these attacks? It had been six months since the last firefight and three months before that. This time the attacks came three nights in a row. Well, they were supposed to have an attack last night, at least that’s what the Intel’s informant said. Up all night, Duran waited with his men but nothing happened. Not having a decent night’s sleep since all this started, he hoped they had given up and moved on to another target. A man could hope, right?
    He rounded the last