Read Online Mark (In the Company of Snipers Book 2) by Irish Winters - Free Book Online
Authors: Irish Winters
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he set her down. “My heck. You’re all grown up. What have you been eating?”
She nodded shyly. “I grow very tall.”
“I hope you’re not too old for a present,” he teased. “I brought something. If you guess what it is, you can have it.”
Mark watched the game begin. Leave it to Harley to charm the ladies.
Najela’s bright brown eyes sparkled with curiosity. “I think maybe it is candy bar?”
“Do you think I would only bring you a candy bar?” He spiked his brows. “I brought that last time. You get one more guess. Remember what we talked about? Time for this, and time for that, and—”
“Did you bring me a present that is a watch?” She clasped her hands together and watched while he pulled the small, pink wristwatch from one of his many pants pockets. “Oh. It is beautiful. Is a princess?”
Harley peered into the face of the watch, his face scrunched up. “Could be. I think it’s Cinderella. Hmmm. Maybe it’s Snow White. Here, let me set it for you.” He took the tiny wristwatch and matched the time to his watch. “There you go. Now you’ll always know what time it is.”
She hugged it to her cheek, her eyes obviously full of adoration for this tall man. “I will take very good care of my watch. You are my most favorite American in the whole world.”
“Well, I’m not the only one who brought you something.” He pointed to Mark. “This is my friend, Mark Houston.”
Najela turned shy and speechless as she tucked her new present into the folds of her ground-length skirt.
“Well, it just so happens ….” Mark pulled a small rectangular Styrofoam container out of his pack. “I did bring something especially for you.”
She stepped closer, craning to see what was in that mysterious white box. He had always loved the children of this war-torn country, and Najela was no different. Thin and small for her age, she dressed in the soft colors of most of her countrymen and women. Brown indicated poverty to Mark. These people had so little.
He lifted the lid and pulled another smaller box from between two blue icepacks. “Do you happen to like chocolate, Najela?”
She nodded even as she turned to hide her face behind her grandfather. Arzad grinned at her sudden shyness. “She is never so quiet. Najela. Come out from there. Remember how we treat guests.”
She peeked from behind her grandfather’s jacket, and Mark held perfectly still. Every move she made was graceful. Feminine. This little girl was fast becoming a woman. Before long she would be married off to some young man, no doubt on his way to war like all the others. Mark hoped that young man would not be Taliban, and that he would be kind. Arzad’s sweet granddaughter deserved more.
She inched closer to the gift in Mark’s outstretched hand. Tentatively, she touched it with her index fingertip, but did not take it. “It is for me?”
Mark nodded. “It is only a few pieces of chocolate, but each one is supposed to taste different from the rest. Will you tell me how they taste?” As he placed the box in her hand, she nodded with serious brown eyes.
“Yes. I will tell you the taste of these chocolates,” she promised seriously. “Thank you, Mr. Mark.” Her skirt twirled when she turned back to Harley with another big hug. “But you are still my most favorite American in the whole world.”
“What can I say?” Harley’s face wrinkled with a cheesy grin. “Either you got it, or you don’t.”
Seven
Gulnar, Arzad’s wife, welcomed Harley and Mark into her humble home with a shy smile. She was as weathered looking as Arzad, but the same light sparkled in her eyes. As soon as they ducked into the door of her humble home, she spread a huge tablecloth over the rug on the floor. Najela scampered to retrieve a copper basin and pitcher of water, speaking softly to her grandmother.
“My guests. Please.” Arzad motioned Harley and Mark to sit with him on the floor. “We eat now.”
“This is called aftabah
She nodded shyly. “I grow very tall.”
“I hope you’re not too old for a present,” he teased. “I brought something. If you guess what it is, you can have it.”
Mark watched the game begin. Leave it to Harley to charm the ladies.
Najela’s bright brown eyes sparkled with curiosity. “I think maybe it is candy bar?”
“Do you think I would only bring you a candy bar?” He spiked his brows. “I brought that last time. You get one more guess. Remember what we talked about? Time for this, and time for that, and—”
“Did you bring me a present that is a watch?” She clasped her hands together and watched while he pulled the small, pink wristwatch from one of his many pants pockets. “Oh. It is beautiful. Is a princess?”
Harley peered into the face of the watch, his face scrunched up. “Could be. I think it’s Cinderella. Hmmm. Maybe it’s Snow White. Here, let me set it for you.” He took the tiny wristwatch and matched the time to his watch. “There you go. Now you’ll always know what time it is.”
She hugged it to her cheek, her eyes obviously full of adoration for this tall man. “I will take very good care of my watch. You are my most favorite American in the whole world.”
“Well, I’m not the only one who brought you something.” He pointed to Mark. “This is my friend, Mark Houston.”
Najela turned shy and speechless as she tucked her new present into the folds of her ground-length skirt.
“Well, it just so happens ….” Mark pulled a small rectangular Styrofoam container out of his pack. “I did bring something especially for you.”
She stepped closer, craning to see what was in that mysterious white box. He had always loved the children of this war-torn country, and Najela was no different. Thin and small for her age, she dressed in the soft colors of most of her countrymen and women. Brown indicated poverty to Mark. These people had so little.
He lifted the lid and pulled another smaller box from between two blue icepacks. “Do you happen to like chocolate, Najela?”
She nodded even as she turned to hide her face behind her grandfather. Arzad grinned at her sudden shyness. “She is never so quiet. Najela. Come out from there. Remember how we treat guests.”
She peeked from behind her grandfather’s jacket, and Mark held perfectly still. Every move she made was graceful. Feminine. This little girl was fast becoming a woman. Before long she would be married off to some young man, no doubt on his way to war like all the others. Mark hoped that young man would not be Taliban, and that he would be kind. Arzad’s sweet granddaughter deserved more.
She inched closer to the gift in Mark’s outstretched hand. Tentatively, she touched it with her index fingertip, but did not take it. “It is for me?”
Mark nodded. “It is only a few pieces of chocolate, but each one is supposed to taste different from the rest. Will you tell me how they taste?” As he placed the box in her hand, she nodded with serious brown eyes.
“Yes. I will tell you the taste of these chocolates,” she promised seriously. “Thank you, Mr. Mark.” Her skirt twirled when she turned back to Harley with another big hug. “But you are still my most favorite American in the whole world.”
“What can I say?” Harley’s face wrinkled with a cheesy grin. “Either you got it, or you don’t.”
Seven
Gulnar, Arzad’s wife, welcomed Harley and Mark into her humble home with a shy smile. She was as weathered looking as Arzad, but the same light sparkled in her eyes. As soon as they ducked into the door of her humble home, she spread a huge tablecloth over the rug on the floor. Najela scampered to retrieve a copper basin and pitcher of water, speaking softly to her grandmother.
“My guests. Please.” Arzad motioned Harley and Mark to sit with him on the floor. “We eat now.”
“This is called aftabah
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