Read Online A Weldon Family Christmas: A Southern Steam Novella (Weldon Brothers) by Jennifer Saints - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Saints
Tags: Romance, Christmas, alpha male, love, vietnam, southern bad boy, southern steam, weldon brothers, novels alive
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hard. Are politicians so far removed from what is happening here that the soldiers they sent to war mean nothing but numbers on a paper? He worships the ground Senator Brand walks on, so I’ve no doubt Craig’s opinions are in alignment with Senator’s. One good thing came out of the dinner Maggie and I shared with him. Maggie has decided when our Donut Dolly duty is over she’s going to Washington to “put those boys in line”. How she can possibly do that is beyond me, but I’ve no doubt she’ll find a way. I have a lot of patience, but am learning I do have my limits—one of them being idiots in power. How does that happen?
My life has never been simple. Ever since I could remember, I’ve had to face painful conflicts in an unsafe world, fearful of what would happen next. So I don’t expect life to be fair. I don’t expect there to be any rose gardens. But I do expect that when thousands of people vote to put a person into office that they’d elect a man worthy of the post. Then again, my uncle used to say that the more he learned about people, the lower his expectations in life became and usually it’s the dumb ass’s braying that is heard the most.
Then there are those moments when a man goes beyond all measure of selfless bravery to rescue a fellow soldier. They had a Christmas Memorial in the chapel today for soldiers who had given their lives in deliberate acts of heroism to save their fellow soldiers. The stories told both renewed my faith in humanity and broke my heart at the loss of such great men.
Goodnight John,
I count myself blessed
Emma
John laughed again at Emma’s take on politicians and the war. He could have added a dozen stories to that Christmas Memorial. And yes, he wanted to set this Craig guy straight for inviting Emma to Paris as if she were some sort of prostitute. Yet Emma wasn’t incensed over that. She was outraged that the man had demeaned the grunts.
He folded the letters and placed them against his heart. He had a spring in his step that Emma had actually written him. And that she actually cared enough to be honest with him. She didn’t dish out platitudes, but laid everything on the line.
He also had a frown knitting his brow. Twice now, she’d indicated that she’d faced tragedy in her life. And today he’d learned that whatever that was had its roots in her childhood. It didn’t sound as if she’d had much of a childhood. Her description of “painful conflicts, unsafe world, and fearful of the future” sounded much like the broken lives of the children caught in this war.
Instead of R&R or their usual daily grind on Christmas, they’d been ordered this morning to check and shore up the camp’s defenses. Which meant something was definitely up. John walked through the day as tense as if he were in the middle of a minefield. His one respite from it all was Emma. He carried her in his mind and in his heart. She was a bittersweet ache inside him. She was making life so much better than before, but also making him hunger for her and for things he had no right to want. He didn’t know how or when but he had to see her again. Soon.
They’d just finished dinner when news of a missing heli spread though the camp. Had it been shot down? It was Christmas day. It was supposed to be a cease fire, but a Huey north of Da Nang had disappeared. John's heart dropped. His camp was northwest of Da Nang. John ran over the communications center with a sick churning in his gut. Da Nang was on Emma’s Christmas day schedule. But surely the Donut Dollies would have been traveling together in a larger heli. And surely they wouldn’t have ventured to the forward LZ’s. Still something inside of him wouldn’t let it go until he knew the details.
In May, Mike Company, the badass 3 rd Battalion, 1 st Marines, 1 st Marine Division bugged out of Da Nang, supposedly because the enemy threat
My life has never been simple. Ever since I could remember, I’ve had to face painful conflicts in an unsafe world, fearful of what would happen next. So I don’t expect life to be fair. I don’t expect there to be any rose gardens. But I do expect that when thousands of people vote to put a person into office that they’d elect a man worthy of the post. Then again, my uncle used to say that the more he learned about people, the lower his expectations in life became and usually it’s the dumb ass’s braying that is heard the most.
Then there are those moments when a man goes beyond all measure of selfless bravery to rescue a fellow soldier. They had a Christmas Memorial in the chapel today for soldiers who had given their lives in deliberate acts of heroism to save their fellow soldiers. The stories told both renewed my faith in humanity and broke my heart at the loss of such great men.
Goodnight John,
I count myself blessed
Emma
John laughed again at Emma’s take on politicians and the war. He could have added a dozen stories to that Christmas Memorial. And yes, he wanted to set this Craig guy straight for inviting Emma to Paris as if she were some sort of prostitute. Yet Emma wasn’t incensed over that. She was outraged that the man had demeaned the grunts.
He folded the letters and placed them against his heart. He had a spring in his step that Emma had actually written him. And that she actually cared enough to be honest with him. She didn’t dish out platitudes, but laid everything on the line.
He also had a frown knitting his brow. Twice now, she’d indicated that she’d faced tragedy in her life. And today he’d learned that whatever that was had its roots in her childhood. It didn’t sound as if she’d had much of a childhood. Her description of “painful conflicts, unsafe world, and fearful of the future” sounded much like the broken lives of the children caught in this war.
Instead of R&R or their usual daily grind on Christmas, they’d been ordered this morning to check and shore up the camp’s defenses. Which meant something was definitely up. John walked through the day as tense as if he were in the middle of a minefield. His one respite from it all was Emma. He carried her in his mind and in his heart. She was a bittersweet ache inside him. She was making life so much better than before, but also making him hunger for her and for things he had no right to want. He didn’t know how or when but he had to see her again. Soon.
They’d just finished dinner when news of a missing heli spread though the camp. Had it been shot down? It was Christmas day. It was supposed to be a cease fire, but a Huey north of Da Nang had disappeared. John's heart dropped. His camp was northwest of Da Nang. John ran over the communications center with a sick churning in his gut. Da Nang was on Emma’s Christmas day schedule. But surely the Donut Dollies would have been traveling together in a larger heli. And surely they wouldn’t have ventured to the forward LZ’s. Still something inside of him wouldn’t let it go until he knew the details.
In May, Mike Company, the badass 3 rd Battalion, 1 st Marines, 1 st Marine Division bugged out of Da Nang, supposedly because the enemy threat
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