Waiting for Her Soldier Read Free

any real good cooking in a long time (well, I had a bowl of goat stew at a small Afghani restaurant, but I have to say that it was pretty questionable!).
    Overall, life has been going well lately. We’ve gone on several successful operations recently and we’ve had zero casualties since I sent my last letter. Everyone has generally been in good spirits. All things considered, I’m doing pretty well, and I have to say that your frequent letters are doing a lot to lift my spirits.
    I was just informed recently that I will be joining the operation in Kandahar. It’s a province in southern Afghanistan that is crucial to the security of the country. It’s an elite mission and I was handpicked by my lieutenant to join this new squadron. I just wanted to give you fair warning that it is also one of the most dangerous provinces in Afghanistan. I don’t want you to worry; I have a good head on my shoulders and the other members of the team are some of the best I’ve ever met, but nonetheless this is a dangerous mission.
    I also don’t want you to be surprised when my future letters are short on details. Most of our operations are against high value targets: I’m talking upper echelon Taliban commanders. The operations are highly classified, so much so that you probably will never read about them in the paper or hear about them on the nightly news. But in reality, they’re some of the most important operations of the entire war.
    Kandahar is a hell hole, the people are in poverty and have been victimized by the freedom hating Taliban. Afghani citizens live in fear of these monsters who rule by violence and intimidation, and it’s our job to eliminate them from the region. It’s hard to describe how bad it is over here, which is also why I like hearing your stories from home.
    I’m so happy for you and your business, and honestly, hearing about it is something that drives me forward toward my goal. There’s no way these extremists would stand for a woman, a strong woman who’s got the brains and the drive to run her own business. I hope one day that the women here can be like you, proud and free to take control of their own destinies. In a lot of ways, I view it as my job to clear a path for them, to make that possibility a reality.
    Good luck with your business. And, I don’t want to make you worry, but please pray for me. It’s dangerous here and I’ll take anything I can get to help keep me safe.
    Love and miss you,
    Sgt. Darren Henderson

    My hand trembled. I don’t know what had come over me. Love . LOVE. Did he mean it? Get control of yourself, Lauren , I told myself. It’s just a common expression; it doesn’t mean a damn thing. It was just a word between friends; we cared about each other. That was it, right? It was good to care about someone again. I’d been so busy with the business lately and it was nice to have someone else to think about for once. It is what it is, I thought. But the pattering of my heart said otherwise. I ran to the desk in my living room and grabbed a pen, excited to respond to Darren with another heartfelt letter.

CHAPTER 7
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    As the months went by, Darren and I continued writing each other back and forth like this. The letters got more and more in depth, and also more frequent. I started writing Darren almost every other day, as opposed to every other week. I lived for his letters, excited each time I opened my mailbox to see what he had written to me.
    In early October, I opened one of his letters to find a photograph included inside. There was Darren, tan and smiling in desert fatigues as he stood beneath an American flag in the hot, desert sun. The glare ricocheted off his Oakley sunglasses, matched only by the bright white of his huge smile. The dark tan t-shirt practically exploded with the musculature of his biceps as he stood there, surrounded by the drab buildings of the barracks and then sand and mountains as far as the eye could see.
    As I stared at the photo I