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Always And Forever
Lindsay McKenna


Rediscover this moving fan-favorite tale of finding a second chance at happiness from New York Times bestselling author Lindsay McKennaCaptain Kyle Anderson can’t believe his buddy Mike is tying the knot. And when Mike, a fellow captain in the US Air Force, asks Kyle to be his best man, of course Kyle says yes. When he flies home from Thailand, where his squadron is based, Kyle finally gets to meet the woman his friend has been talking about for a year. But what he never expected is for Gale Remington to be so…alluring. And he certainly isn’t prepared for the sparks that fly between them.Gale is beyond happy to be marrying Mike. So why, when she meets his best man, Kyle, does her heart beat a little quicker, her breath come a little faster? He’s her fiancé’s best friend—nothing can happen between them. But nothing is certain in the theater of war, and fate may have other plans for her and Kyle.







Rediscover this moving fan-favorite tale of finding a second chance at happiness from New York Times bestselling author Lindsay McKenna

Captain Kyle Anderson can’t believe his buddy Mike is tying the knot. And when Mike, a fellow captain in the US Air Force, asks Kyle to be his best man, of course Kyle says yes. When he flies home from Thailand, where his squadron is based, Kyle finally gets to meet the woman his friend has been talking about for a year. But what he never expected is for Gale Remington to be so…alluring. And he certainly isn’t prepared for the sparks that fly between them.

Gale is beyond happy to be marrying Mike. So why, when she meets his best man, Kyle, does her heart beat a little quicker, her breath come a little faster? He’s her fiancé’s best friend—nothing can happen between them. But nothing is certain in the theater of war, and fate may have other plans for her and Kyle.


Always and Forever

Lindsay Mckenna






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Contents


Cover (#ubb5c8d10-a4a0-51bc-a001-a6d992f26136)

Back Cover Text (#u9878a372-d12a-5556-a786-5e2cc8cb2b5a)

Title Page (#uae17a842-f8b5-5c36-b8eb-6922c41aa68e)

Chapter 1 (#ulink_15464294-9dc8-5fce-b65d-d870259d5e4f)

Chapter 2 (#ulink_f74dca3c-310b-59c9-a73a-224b89f0b572)

Chapter 3 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter 1 (#ulink_56b460b5-7324-5fa5-a4ec-16c58b2b0018)


December 24, 1973Castle Air Force Base, California

Captain Kyle Anderson jogged up the sidewalk toward Captain Mike Taylor’s base home. Was he too late? Kyle was supposed to go with his best friend, who was getting married tomorrow, to pick up their Air Force dress uniforms from the base cleaners, but he’d overslept. Damn!

Rubbing his smarting, bloodshot eyes, Kyle rapped his knuckles sharply against the door. Tomorrow, Mike was marrying Gale Remington, an Air Force officer he’d met a year ago. On Christmas Day, of all things. It was like Mike to do something romantic like that.

Kyle’s breath was coming out in white wisps as he stood restlessly, hunched down into his dark blue wool coat, waiting to see if Mike was home.

“Mike?” His voice carried impatiently as he waited at the door, knocking even more loudly. Looking around, Kyle realized he was probably attracting the attention of every Air Force wife in base housing. They’d probably be looking out their windows to see who was shouting at 0800.

He’d overslept because of jet lag. Four days ago, Kyle had flown to Castle A.F.B. from Udorn, Thailand, where his fighter squadron was based, to be best man at Mike’s wedding. But because of time-zone changes and the need to unplug physically and emotionally from the duties of a fighter pilot in Vietnam, Kyle was exhausted.

The door opened. Kyle grinned, expecting to see his friend from boyhood. Instead, he saw Gale, Mike’s beautiful fiancée. His smile slipped considerably in surprise, his eyes widening as she opened the screen door.

“Hi, Kyle. If you’re looking for Mike, he took off about fifteen minutes ago for the cleaners.”

Pulse skyrocketing, Kyle drew in a shaky breath. He stood there, tongue-tied. Ever since he’d been introduced to Gale three days ago, his world had been out of control like a jet in a flat spin. The moment he’d looked into her incredible forest-green eyes, something wonderful, something terrible had happened to him. Once, twenty-five-year-old Kyle would have scoffed at the idea of falling head over heels for any woman on first sight. But he wasn’t laughing now.

Placing his hands on his hips in a typical arrogant jet-jockey gesture, he covered his reaction to her. “Hi, Gale.” God, did she realize what she did to him? It was agony to be around her because he wanted to simply absorb her, lose himself in her sunny smile, and stare into those dancing eyes that held such sparkling life in their depths.

Gale smiled shyly. “Mike said you might be late. He’ll pick up your uniform.” She forced herself to look away from Kyle’s hawklike blue eyes that were large with intelligence. If there was such a thing as brazen self-confidence, Kyle possessed it. His stance was cocky and unapologetic. He was a proud eagle standing before her, knowing he was the cream of the Air Force pilot crop because he was an Academy graduate. Her pulse was doing funny things and she tried to ignore it. Since meeting Kyle, an exhilarating force swept through her whenever she thought of him or saw him. When Kyle looked at her with that burning intensity, she felt shaky, her carefully mapped out world falling apart.

“I overslept,” he said with a laugh. He wasn’t going to admit to her he couldn’t shake the jet lag. Gale looked vulnerable and pretty in a pink long-sleeved blouse. The red apron tied around her waist and the dark brown slacks showed off her slim figure. She didn’t look like a captain or a meteorologist, but she was both. Her hair, a pageboy of shifting brown color interlaced with gold and a few delicate strands of burnished copper, barely touched the collar of her blouse. He had to get away. It wasn’t good to be here alone with her. God knew he’d taken great pains not to be alone with Gale—because he hadn’t known what he’d do if he was. She affected him deeply.

It wasn’t Gale’s fault. She was hopelessly in love with Mike. Kyle rationalized his attraction to Gale by telling himself that because she was Mike’s fiancée, he naturally liked her. “Look, I’ll come back later,” he said, his mouth growing dry.

“Nonsense, come on in. Mike’s due back in less than half an hour and he wants you to stay for breakfast. Why go all the way back to the B.O.Q. just to come back later?”

Hesitating, Kyle glanced at the watch on his wrist. A half hour. It would look stupid to leave if Mike was going to be back that soon. “Well...”

Gale stepped aside, looking up at him. A large part of her wanted him to leave because in his presence, her emotions vibrated with a strange yearning she’d never experienced. But etiquette dictated differently. “You look tired. Come in. I’ve got a pot of fresh coffee.” She knew Kyle had flown from Thailand to attend the wedding. The strain of what the war had done to him showed on his lean face, around his eyes and in the set of his mobile mouth. Heat fled through her, sweet and unexpected, as she stared at him.

She knew that, like every other arrogant, self-assured military pilot, he wasn’t going to let on he was tired, much less exhausted by the war or the flight home. No, Kyle was like his fellow pilots: his callous, cocky exterior hid a vulnerable interior that was rarely shared with anyone. From the moment she’d met Kyle, she’d sensed a warmth and gentleness beneath that facade, and for some reason, Kyle’s ebullient, joking presence had been able to lift the fear from her heart. Thirty days after the wedding, Mike, too, would leave for Thailand and become a part of the war. Gale feared losing her young husband.

Taking off his garrison cap, Kyle gave a nod. “Tired?” he teased. “You know us handsome, unabashed jocks aren’t fazed by such things.” He stepped into the warmth of the small living room. He could smell fresh coffee in the air and inhaled the scent deeply. And bacon was frying. His stomach growled, but he was also hungry in a different way. After he shed his coat, Gale hung it in the hall closet and beckoned him to follow her to the kitchen. He spotted a small Christmas tree, all decorated, in the corner of the living room. The lights blinked merrily, reminding him of the joyous holiday season.

“I promised Mike I’d have breakfast waiting for him when he got back.” She smiled and pointed to the table. “Sit down. I’ll get the coffee.”

A bright red cloth covered the round table, and a Christmas decoration sat in the middle of it. Gale’s thoughtful touch, Kyle was sure. “Thanks,” he said. Tensely, he sat down and watched Gale move to the stove to pour his coffee. Mike had lived alone here for a year, and from the letters Kyle had gotten from him, he’d thought the house would be cold and barren. It wasn’t with Gale present. The place had a light feeling with the winter sunshine filtering in through the kitchen window, embracing Gale’s slight form and making her look radiant. Like a starving man, Kyle watched each small movement she performed. There was a sureness and grace to Gale he’d never seen in another woman.

Rubbing his eyes, Kyle tried to figure it out for the thousandth time. What was it about Gale that had thrown him for a loop? He couldn’t want her, couldn’t be fantasizing about kissing her or having her for himself when Mike was going to marry her. What the hell was wrong with him? It wasn’t as if he didn’t have his choice of women. Maybe it was the war. He hadn’t been the same emotionally since he’d started flying the dangerous missions, although he never discussed that with anyone. Not even his fellow pilots.

“Here you go. You like it black, don’t you?”

Kyle took his hands away from his eyes, and nodded, gazing at her long, slender fingers around the white mug. “Black—yes.”

She smiled understandingly. “You look like you could use about seventy-two hours more sleep.”

“Nah. You know us fighter jocks are as tough as they come.” He kept his eyes on her as she walked back to the stove to turn the bacon in the skillet. “It comes with the territory,” he said, sipping the scalding hot coffee. The heat burning through him was raging out of control. Didn’t he have any command over his feelings toward Gale? How could this have happened? Why?

Glancing over her shoulder, she said, “What? The war?”

“Yeah. Flying missions every other day over Hanoi and back is—” He hesitated, not wanting to use the word killer because he saw the worry in Gale’s eyes. In a month, Mike would be joining his squadron. They’d be flying together—a boyhood dream come true. He and Mike had grown up in Sedona, Arizona, spending hours dreaming of careers as military pilots. Trying to disarm the anxiety he saw in Gale’s eyes, he forced a smile. “It’s a piece of cake.” That was a bald-faced lie, but there was no sense in further upsetting her.

She raised an eyebrow. “It’s dangerous.”

With a shrug, Kyle muttered, “Not to us. Jet jocks are trained to take the heat.”

“Oh, please.” She laughed. “You guys are all alike. It would kill you to admit you’re scared, have doubts or any other human frailty.”

He grinned broadly and sipped the coffee. It was good and strong, just the way he liked it. “The only human frailties we possess are eyes to scope out good-lookin’ women like yourself. Mike sure got lucky.”

Gale blushed hotly. There was nothing displeasing about Kyle Anderson, either, but she kept that thought to herself. More than anything, she was drawn to the raw confidence that emanated from him like a beacon.

“How did you get so cocky?”

“You mean confident?”

She grinned. “I don’t think the two words have anything in common, Kyle.”

“Sure they do. You can’t sit with an F-14 strapped to your rear carrying a ton of weapons if you aren’t a little cocky and confident.”

The imagery frightened Gale, although she knew it shouldn’t.

Kyle tilted his head as he saw her expressive eyes darken. He’d never seen a woman who was so transparent with her emotions and feelings. It was a delightful and touching discovery. No wonder Mike had fallen in love with her. “Sorry,” he muttered with a forced smile. “I’ll try and keep the war talk to a minimum. I can see it’s scaring you.”

“It does, Kyle.” She studied him in the silence. “Doesn’t it you?”

“What?”

“Scare you, flying with a load of weapons?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know...I never really analyzed it that way before.”

It was her turn to smile. “If you did, you probably wouldn’t be a fighter pilot.”

His grin broadened. “You’re probably right. Some things, I learned a long time ago, don’t merit being looked at too closely.”

“Is that anything like looking a gift horse in the mouth?”

“Exactly.” Kyle laughed, his spirits lifting like a fierce wind. He couldn’t recall having felt this happy before. He tried to analyze why Gale affected him like a heady wine. Five minutes ago, he’d felt like hell warmed over. Now, all that tiredness and depression had miraculously gone away. Was it because of the kindness he saw in her face? Those dancing green eyes that looked beyond his bravado and saw the real him? Or was it Gale’s full, soft lips, which reminded him that there was something left in the world that wasn’t hard, harsh or ugly?

“I think Mike’s the luckiest guy in the world. Imagine him snagging you.”

She turned to the kitchen counter to busy herself. It was too easy to stare into those dark blue eyes that made her go weak and shaky inside. “You’re making it out as if he captured the most beautiful woman in the world,” she teased. “And I’m not. I’m just an Air Force captain.”

“No one said women in the service aren’t beautiful.”

“Please.”

Kyle laughed softly as she turned and gave him a dark look over her shoulder. “Now, that’s the truth, Gale.”

“Sure. Fighter jocks have more lines per square inch than any other male I’ve ever run into.”

“Sounds like an indictment.”

“More like a chronic disease with you guys.”

He sat back, immensely enjoying her sense of humor. “That’s another thing I like about ladies in the military—they have a fine sense of humor.”

“And probably the last thing you look at or consider when you meet one.”

“Now, Gale...”

“Now, Kyle...” And again, she laughed. The merriment in his eyes stole her breath away. There was more happiness there than she’d ever seen before. “You’re just like Mike,” she accused gently, “all strut and stuff, but underneath, a very nice guy.”

“God, don’t let that get out! The guys over at Udorn think I’m one mean fighter behind the stick.”

Rolling her eyes, Gale got eggs from the fridge, then returned to the stove to cook them. “Here we go again. Make sure no one knows the real guy who wears those pilot’s wings. Really, Kyle, did they make all of you out of the same mold?”

“Well, we went through flight school together.”

“Instead of teaching you how to fly, I swear they put all of you through the same personality training.”

“That’s not so bad. I mean, look at us—we’re confident, good at what we do and besides that, we’re good-looking.”

“I give up. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Mike was here and not you.”

Sipping his coffee, Kyle smiled recklessly. “Well, Mike and I are like brothers, but there are a few differences. I’m four months older than he is.”

Gale knew there were other, more profound differences. Mike was laid back; Kyle was far more aggressive. She wondered if Mike would turn out the same way after being in combat.

Forcing herself to return to the task at hand, Gale busied herself with scrambling the eggs while the bacon finished frying. Her hands trembled. Trying to laugh at the absurd notion that Kyle’s presence was responsible, Gale focused on Mike. She had met him a year ago over at Operations, where the meteorology department was located. He’d come in early one morning, angry over the fact his weather plan hadn’t been ready in time for his flight. On his return to base two days later, Mike had taken her out to an expensive restaurant in Sacramento to apologize for his less-than-gentlemanly behavior. Over the next six months, they’d fallen in love. Their happiness was complete until Mike abruptly received orders to Thailand. They had decided to get married before he left.

Frowning, Gale stirred the eggs briskly in the hot skillet. Vietnam. War. Death. She felt her heart contract powerfully with fear. It wasn’t fair that Mike was going to be torn away from her a month after they became husband and wife. What in life was fair? Not much. Kyle’s face haunted her. Shutting her eyes, Gale took a deep breath. What kind of crazy joke was being played on her? She loved Mike! So what were all these new and startling feelings she’d had since she had been introduced to Kyle?

Forcing herself to concentrate, Gale removed the skillet from the burner and put a lid over it to keep the eggs warm. At twenty-three, she thought she knew herself. It was true Mike was the first man she’d fallen in love with, but she’d had a lot of dates throughout college before joining the Air Force. Now, the nights she’d tossed and turned, dreaming of both Mike and Kyle, had left her nerves raw and taut. How could she be attracted to Kyle? Perhaps because he was Mike’s best friend and they were similar in some ways.

Reaching blindly for the skillet that held the bacon, Gale bumped the pan containing the hot grease off the electric burner. Unthinkingly, Gale reached out, trying to catch it. Hot grease splattered across her right hand. Pain reared up her arm, and she cried out, leaping back as the skillet crashed to the floor, the grease flung in all directions.

“Gale!” Her scream galvanized Kyle into action. In an instant, he was at her side, his arm going around her shoulders, holding the reddened hand that had been burned.

“Oh, damn...” she sobbed, gripping her wrist, trying not to let the pain overwhelm her. Sinking against his strong, supporting body, Gale felt safe. Kyle’s breathing was punctuated, harsh near her ear, his breath moist against her cheek.

“So stupid,” she whispered, a catch in her voice. “I—I’m sorry....”

“It’s all right. Come on, get over to the sink. Cold water will help,” he whispered, guiding her in that direction. The burn on her hand didn’t look nasty but still his heart was pounding in his chest and he felt shaky. After fumbling with the handle on the cold-water spigot, Kyle turned it on and forced her hand beneath the stream.

The water hit her flesh and Gale sucked in a breath, then bit her lower lip.

“Lean on me,” Kyle ordered huskily as he felt her tremble. She obeyed him. Her perfume, light and delicate, struck his flaring nostrils. It was the way she fitted against him that nearly unstrung him. Her hair, slightly wavy, felt like silk against the hard line of his jaw. Kyle ached to lean down and kiss her. “Take it easy, easy...” he coaxed, his voice low and unsteady.

For several minutes Gale was unable to do anything except feel. Feel the lessening of the pain, feel Kyle’s strong, powerful body against hers. His breath was choppy, and she was aware of his heart beating frantically in his chest where she lay against him. His touch was excruciatingly gentle as he placed a cloth over her hand after turning off the faucet.

“Come on, sit down. You’re shaky.”

Wasn’t that the truth, Gale thought, allowing Kyle to guide her to a chair at the table. Her watery knees had nothing to do with the burn, but with him holding her as if she were some fragile, priceless treasure.

Worriedly, Kyle studied her, his hand firm on her shoulder. Gale was waxen, and when she raised those dark, long lashes to look up at him, he felt as if someone had gut punched him. Dizziness assailed him, and his grip tightened on her shoulder momentarily. Large eyes, huge black pupils surrounded by a vibrant green, stared back at him. Gale’s cry had torn him apart, ripping away all his pretenses, his good sense.

Kyle went to the sink and dampened a wash cloth. Gale sat with her head bowed. She looked so hauntingly vulnerable, her shoulders slumped forward. Fighting all his rising, chaotic feelings, Kyle crouched in front of her.

“Here, this ought to help,” he said. He removed one cloth and laid the new one across the injury. Kyle heard Gale breathe in raggedly, but she didn’t cry out. He kept a grip on her arm. His heart refused to stop thudding in his chest, his pulse pounding until every beat was like the beat of a kettle drum being played within him.

When Kyle looked up and saw tears form and then fall down Gale’s cheeks, he lost what little control he had left. “Don’t cry,” he pleaded thickly, cupping her cheek with his hand. He stared deeply into her eyes.

“Oh, Kyle...” she choked out.

Her lips parted, lush and inviting, and Kyle started to lean forward.

“Hey, where’s everybody at?” Mike called from the living room.

Kyle froze, his hand slipping from Gale’s face. He stood, dizzied and shocked by what had almost happened. “In here, buddy.”

Mike appeared at the doorway. Dressed in his blue winter uniform, he took off his garrison cap. Immediately, he went to Gale’s side and knelt on one knee next to her.

“Honey?” He gently cradled her hand. “What happened?”

Gale made a frustrated sound. “I made a dumb move at the stove and splashed grease over my hand, Mike. It’s nothing. I’ll be okay.”

Kyle backed away in a daze. What the hell had just happened? He had been ready to kiss Gale! Shocked, he left the kitchen and went to the living room. Hands shoved into his pants pockets, Kyle was angry and upset with himself.

Gale was barely able to think. If Mike hadn’t arrived when he had, she knew Kyle would have kissed her. His eyes had been hooded, stormy with unrequited need. She trembled, but it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of anticipation of the unexpected. When Kyle had held her, he’d made the pain go away. She shook her head, forcing her attention to Mike, who had retrieved some salve to put on the minor burn.

It was all craziness! It was the stress of the wedding, the war and the fact that Mike was going to leave in a month. The pressures on all of them were great. Kyle was Mike’s best friend, Gale rationalized, and he had simply reacted out of loyalty.

Kyle slowly paced the perimeter of the living room, head down in thought. Mike would never know what had transpired. The wedding would go on as planned. Kyle would be Mike’s best man, and he would be happy for both of them....

Savagely rubbing his face, he knew it had to be the jet lag, the shock of stepping out of the war in Southeast Asia and returning to the States. It had to be.




Chapter 2 (#ulink_5f970e99-3330-578e-8736-8d87fda8e2ce)


December 24, 1974Castle Air Force Base, California

Gale sat in the living room of her base home, several letters and a magazine in her lap. The house was quiet. Deadly quiet. She had just gotten off duty at the meteorology department and the holiday stretched out unendingly before her. This year there was no tree in the corner, no decorations in evidence, not even Christmas music to take the edge off the silence that surrounded her. The coolness in her home seeped through her uniform, making her feel chilled more than she should be.

Six months after marrying Mike, he’d been lost over Hanoi during a bombing raid. Was he a prisoner of war—or dead? No one knew. She slowly looked at the first letter, wishing it was from Mike, but it wasn’t.

Instead, it was a neatly addressed envelope from Captain Kyle Anderson. Gently, she ran her fingers across the crisp envelope. Kyle... Her grieving, shattered heart filled with warmth and a thread of hope. Kyle had signed up for a second tour so he could be with Mike during his first. When Mike had been shot down by a SAM missile, Kyle had been there. He’d seen the whole thing.

Mike had often said Kyle was like the brother he’d never had. Since the time Mike had been listed as missing in action, Kyle had written to her at least once a week, fulfilling his duties as a friend who wasn’t there to help her over the terrible days and nights of loneliness. In his first letter, Kyle had told her that Mike had made him promise to care for her if he was ever shot down and became a POW or MIA Like the Marines, the Air Force took care of its own, Kyle had informed her. And because of his promise to Mike, he would do his best to take care of her, even though they were half a world apart.

With a sigh, Gale saw that the other two letters were bills. Her parents were dead, so there was nothing from family. Her sister, who lived in Haight Ashbury, was opposed to the war and to Gale being in the service. Gale expected nothing from Sandy as a result. They were on opposite sides of an ideology that had divided them for the past four years.

This would be her Christmas present: Kyle’s letter was a precious, life-giving gift. Inevitably, Gale’s spirits lifted, as they always did whenever she received a letter from him. Opening this one slowly, savoring the fact that it was several pages thick, she settled back to find a tiny shelter from a storm that hovered around her twenty-fours hours every day.

December 16, 1974

Dear Gale,

This is your hot-rock jet jock writing to you from a place where a Christmas tree would never grow! I’m sitting here at a bar in Udorn trying to write to you under some pretty severe conditions: beautiful Thai bar girls dressed in decidedly tight dresses, loud (and lousy) music, cigarette smoke so thick you could cut it with a knife, and a lot of pilots making eyes at all the bar girls.

Of course, yours truly is the only one doing something praiseworthy—writing to you! How are you? In your last letter, you sounded down. Don’t give up. I know Mike will be back. Somehow, some way. And me? Brazen (to use your word) as ever. Yes, I still fly a mission over Hanoi just about every other day. And no, I haven’t had any close calls. Are you kidding me? The ace at Udorn? Come on! This jock has one and a half tours under his belt. I’m considered the Old Man around here. All the younger jocks always gather around me when I sidle up to the bar, wanting stories. So I oblige them.

Thanks for the tin of cookies! My God, they were a hit around here! You know how our post office works don’t you? Those enlisted guys have noses on them like bloodhounds. They smell each package. The ones that have cookies in them are somehow detoured or “lost.” When the package finally finds its way to the officer, the food that was in it has mysteriously gone. All the guys who work over at the post office are overweight. I wonder why?

However, because you told me ahead of time that you were going to make six dozen chocolate-chip cookies and send them to me for Christmas, I went over and warned all those guys to keep their hands off—or else. Your cookies got through unscathed. How did you know my favorite was chocolate chip? I’d die for those. Between the box my mom sent and yours, I was the cookie king here at Udorn. And don’t you think the other jocks weren’t wandering over to my hooch to bum a few. Yes, I shared them, like you requested. Would I hoard them? Don’t answer that. I carried out your wishes to the letter. You made a lot of jocks happy. I gave some to the enlisted guys on the flight line, too. Those guys bust themselves twenty-four hours a day, and it was a good feeling to make them smile. They thank you, too.

Hey! Gotta zoom off. One of those beautiful Thai ladies is giving me a look I can’t resist. Look, you take care of yourself, hear? Your letters are like life to me here at Udorn. I really enjoy getting them. Don’t stop! I won’t, either. I promised Mike that I’d take care of you, so expect a letter once a week.

Merry Christmas, Gale.

Your Friend, Kyle.

December 24, 1974

Dear Kyle,

I want you to know that your lively letter—which sounded like a buccaneer swashbuckling—was my Christmas gift. I sat here with two bills, a magazine and your letter in my hand. Your letter, by far, was the one I wanted to open and read.

I had to giggle about the Great Cookie Heist! Just to brighten your day, I’m sending another box (air mail, of course, so it doesn’t take three months via ship to reach you) of chocolate-chip cookies. Keeping busy is my only way to keep my sanity, and it’s nice to be able to cook for someone who loves my cooking so much. So, in your own way, you’re helping me, even if it’s something as simple as appreciating my cookies. Baking them keeps my mind off so many terrible thoughts I shouldn’t be thinking.

Enough of my maudlin musings. I hope the bloodhounds of the Udorn post office can’t smell these. I’ve triple wrapped them in foil, plus wrapped each cookie individually to make sure no odor escapes to get their attention. And I’ve disguised them in a plain cardboard box instead of sending them in a suspicious round tin, which I’m sure tips them off that it might be cookies or other goodies inside.

Hi, I’m back. I started this letter an hour after getting yours. When I’m lonely, I write letters to my friends here Stateside. Yours is the only one going overseas. It’s Christmas Day now, and I got lonely. I’m learning to turn on the radio or television set just so I can hear the sound of another human voice. What hurts is when the nightly news comes on and they show at least fifteen minutes of footage on the Vietnam War. I forget that it’s going to come on, and then, some part of me focuses in on it, no matter what I’m doing. I’ll hurry to the living room to shut it off, but it’s like I’m mesmerized by some power and I just stand there watching and listening to it. What’s wrong with me? Why do I have to watch the shooting, the killing they photograph?




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