PROLOGUE
Fort Gordon, Georgia
Spring, 1986
"So he finally retired." Sergeant Andrea "Andy"
Hollis slowly lowered the copy of Air Force Times to her bed.
She sighed, catching her lower lip between her teeth to still
its unexpected tremor. Damn it, I shouldn't care any more.
Across the room, Staff Sergeant Letitia Aldrich bent to
the task of painting her toenails. "What? Did you say something,
Andy?"
"Not really." Andy glanced down at the officer's
photograph with a frown. He didn't look like he'd changed a
bit. "Just thinking out loud. I saw where somebody retired
and it caught me by surprise."
Letty looked up then, shooting a keen, dark glance at her
roommate. "Oh, General Hollis ... It just hit me. Same
name. He's some kin of yours isn't he? I saw the picture. Guess
he's quite a hero, huh?"
"A hero? Yeah, I suppose..."
"But is he? Kin of yours?"
Andy nodded slowly. She hated to admit it, hated the distance
between herself and her father, even after six years. He'd made
his goal--stars on his shoulders, two of them. Now he'd retired.
"He's my father, but it doesn't mean anything, not anything
at all."
"Well, if my daddy was a general it'd sure mean something
to me." Letty rolled expressive eyes and grinned. "I'd
use it for all it was worth."
"As far as he's concerned, I don't exist, and that's
just fine with me. I don't need to ride on his name. I'll make
it on my own, and one of these days, I'll be a general myself.
I'll make it if it's the last thing I do. Maybe I can't succeed
at anything else, but I'm going to be the best female soldier
anybody ever saw."
Letty's expression reflected her shock at Andy's defiant
pronouncement.
"You're kiddin', right? You gotta be kiddin'. Girl,
we're just regular Army NCOs, and the likes of us don't become
generals, not in the real world. If I can find me an officer
or even a Sergeant Major who wants to get married, I'm outta
here. And when my enlistment is over, if I'm not married, I'll
just get out and go to college. That's better than anything
this Louisiana gal could expect if I'd stayed home."
Andy nodded. "You do what's right for you, Letty, and
I'll do what's right for me. One thing sure, I don't want to
marry a military man. That's the quickest way to grief I can
think of. Nope, I'm going to be a lifer, and I'm going to become
an officer, first chance I get."
Letty looked at Andy, blinked and shook her head, her usually
merry face unusually serious. "You mean it, don't you?
I'm not askin' why, guess you got your reasons. Well, good luck,
girl. I reckon you're going to need it, but if anybody can do
it, it's prob'ly you."
Andy barely heard her roommate, lost in remembering, in
painful flashbacks to the first twenty two years of her life.
Make that her other life. This one had begun the day she took
her oath of enlistment, five years ago today, the day her divorce
became final.
CHAPTER 1
Camp Grant, Korea
October, 1992
Colonel Cory Costain stood outside the Operations Building
of Boynton Army Air Station, an adjunct of Camp Grant, Korea.
He hunched his shoulders and turned his back to the biting wind
to gaze at the camouflage-painted aircraft, swarming with the
service crew. That plane would be his transportation on the
first leg of his long journey home.
With a mixture of relief and regret, Cory looked around
at the now-familiar rugged hills and ramshackle buildings of
the Air Station and adjacent Army Camp. Today, maybe because
he was about to head home, it reminded him of the Idaho ranch
where he'd grown up. Funny, the turns life took. It was just
chance he was here today instead of there, running the family
sheep ranch, wasn't it?
No, not chance at all, but fate. Some things were just meant
to be. He'd came home from Vietnam, weary of military life,
ready to settle down. But that was before he found the girl
who'd promised to wait living with his best friend, the one
who couldn't get into the military because of a football injury.
The pain of that betrayal changed his plans. He'd just wanted
to get as far away from Idaho as fast as he could. Somehow,
except for short visits, he'd never made it back. It had ceased
to be home, became only another temporary duty station in a
long sequence of them. The story of his life.
Well, he'd made a better Army officer than sheep rancher,
while his brother Ketchum was just the opposite. Things had
a way of working out for the best. The Army had been a pretty
good career, lonely at times, but so was ranching. I don't regret
a minute of it.
Returning to the present, he glanced around. At least a
ragged line of telephone poles no longer marred the landscape.
The buried lines he had directed were more secure, required
less maintenance, and improved the view. That was just one of
the more obvious changes he had brought about during his tour.
You done good. Maybe the world doesn't care, but Camp
Grant is just a little better because Cory Costain passed through.
That was as much as a man could expect, really, to leave some
small improvement behind. If he managed that every place he
went, he could die content.
He heard his name called and turned as Kim ran up, flushed
and breathless. The young Korean woman had served as his secretary
the past fifteen months. Though untrained, she'd always tried
hard and learned quickly. She was a good kid. Maybe something
had come of their recent efforts to locate her GI father.
"I got a letter!" she cried, "A letter from
my father! I think he's going to help us. Thank you, sir, so
much. Without your help, never this would happen! You...well,
I will miss you. In Korea forever you will be not forgotten."
In her excitement, she fractured her second language, but joy
and gratitude made her plain round face almost pretty.
Cory patted her shoulder clumsily. These emotional scenes
embarrassed him. "I'll miss you too, Kim. Good luck. I
hope everything works out for you and your mother."
At that moment, the crew chief beckoned. Saved by the bell.
Cory breathed a sigh of relief. He said good bye to Kim and
strode out to climb aboard. Eagerness to get home suddenly filled
him. Home...back in the good old U.S.A. In about twenty hours,
I'll be landing at Travis Air Force Base.
Then on to his next assignment at Fort Cochise, Arizona.
There he'd be taking over the Twenty Fourth Signal Brigade.
The large unit with its broad-based communications mission just
might be his last duty. It could prove challenging too, but
he looked forward to it.
Aboard the transport, he wiggled his shoulders and wedged
himself into a jump seat. They were always too low for his six
foot two inch frame. As usual, his knees threatened to bump
his chin, but this time it didn't matter. He was going home.
* * *
Fort Cochise, Arizona.
October 1992
Captain Andrea "Andy" Hollis frowned at the shining
expanse of desk before her as if it was a toxic waste dump.
But it was just an ordinary desk--government issue, wooden,
office, double pedestal, GSA #123xyz. Her disgust centered around
the fact it was the desk of the Twenty Fourth Signal Brigade
Executive Officer, the position she'd reluctantly filled for
just two weeks.
She glowered at the back of the new brass name plate which
read "CPT A. R. Hollis, United States Army." The farewell
gift from her old outfit only served as another painful reminder.
A slender young woman wearing shiny new sergeant's chevrons
on her collar glided in and placed a handful of papers in the
in box. With only a quick sidelong glance at her supervisor,
she turned and glided silently back out.
Do I look that forbidding? Andy couldn't help wondered
as she released her breath in a deep sigh and reached for the
top document in the box.
Two long weeks ago, she'd been Company Commander of the
Wireless Communications Company. The subordinate unit of the
Twenty Fourth dealt with radio, radar, and microwave. There,
her desk had been a battered grey, metal one, stacked with Technical
Manuals or "TMs", test equipment, and the avalanche
of paper that fell to every officer with administrative tasks.
There, all her troops came and went freely and were certainly
not afraid to speak to her. At seven in the morning, she would
have been out in the shop watching things get started. She was
always watching when her troops piled into trucks to drive out
to remote sites on Fort Cochise or settled into their well stocked
work benches to test and repair electronic components of Army
equipment. There they trusted and counted on each other.
But now Andy was Executive Officer or "XO", a
combination of second-in-command and administrative assistant
to Colonel Standish, the Brigade Commander. It was political
and a desk job, staff rather than command. The phone jingled
and she reached automatically, stopping when she heard Stacy
Jones, the Colonel's secretary, answer it.
Andy picked up the checklist she'd made to be sure everything
was ready for the change of command ceremony taking place the
following Friday. The send-off for Colonel Standish, who'd been
a good mentor and friend since Andy arrived at Fort Cochise,
it was also the first official act she'd perform for her new
boss.
The ceremony could go a long way towards creating a good
impression, or a bad one if things went wrong. First impressions
had a way of sticking in a person's mind, in spite of whatever
might happen later. Knowing that, Andy planned to leave nothing
to chance.
She might not like the XO job, but she didn't want to start
off on the wrong foot with the man who'd be writing her next
rating. In the modern Army, competition was keen. The higher
in rank you advanced, the more important it became to leave
a good impression on everyone you dealt with, especially senior
officers.
To Andy, who'd grown up in an Air Force family, military
customs and courtesy were second nature. She knew that used
in excess, they could become a sign of fawning respect or very
subtle derision. With the slightest change in tone, she could
make it either, or she could simply project the absolutely correct
image, which she usually chose to do. Because the traditions
dated back to colonial times in the United States, they often
appeared strange and stilted, but it was still "the way
things were done."
A glance at her watch told Andy it was eleven thirty. Maybe
it would help to get out, breathe some fresh air and grab lunch
at the Post Exchange snack bar. Although it was October, the
sun was still bright and warm at midday. Leaving the 24th's
offices, Andy walked briskly down the sidewalk which divided
the historical two story buildings housing the Fort's many offices
from the parade ground. It was a smooth expanse of grass bordered
by ancient cottonwood trees.
For a moment, she forgot the aggravations of her job and
let herself enjoy the beautiful fall day. She drank in the golden
warmth and rested her eyes with the pleasant harmony of blue
sky, green grass and gilded leaves. Those huge trees had probably
turned a hundred times, witnessed cavalry drills and watched
the mule mounted infantry that had guarded the border during
World War I. The Army had a fine sense of history which gave
Andy a secure, rooted feeling.
At the end of the block, she turned to cross the street.
A pickup truck pulled up and stopped even with her. Several
years old, its once-bright, metallic-blue paint had faded and
spots of rust marred its finish.
"Excuse me, Ma'am, can you point me to the In-processing
Section of MILPO?". The driver turned a pleasantly weathered
face to her as he spoke. He wore a well-used grey Stetson and
a plaid western shirt, mostly blue, the shade perfectly matching
his eyes. He spoke in an easy drawl, completely in tune with
his rugged, outdoorsy appearance.
Andy could not hide all of her surprise. Why would a cowboy
need to find Military Personnel In-processing? She couldn't
imagine him in uniform. Still, from habit, she answered with
reasonable courtesy, pointing as she spoke. "See that fourth
building on the right? In-processing's on the second floor,
enlisted at the north end. I'm not sure if they close at lunch
time or not."
"Thank you, Captain. Reckon I'll just have to go see,
won't I?" The man smiled then, and she gulped. That was
a smile and a half. The images of a couple of her favorite old
time western movie stars flashed across her mind.
"You're welcome. Have a nice day." Andy replied
automatically, still curious. Why, she amended, did a gorgeous
hunk of a cowboy need to find In-processing? Well, it wasn't
her concern. She turned and started away.
"Ma'am?" The gentle drawling voice arrested her
step. "Thought you might not know it, but you've got a
nasty run in your hose, up the left leg there."
For a startled instant, Andy whirled back and stared at
the man. His tone and expression were both carefully neutral,
but something about him still said "gotcha," loud
and clear.
Just who did he think he was? He might be good looking,
but he really was crude! Andy huffed, faced around, and marched
on toward her destination. Not until she was safely inside the
PX did she stop and check her nylons.
Darn it, he was right. She did have a run, a big one. It
went from her ankle clear up over her knee to vanish under her
skirt. She hated to appear anything short of perfect when in
uniform, and that sure ruined the effect. Why hadn't she noticed
before she left the office? This was turning out to be a lousy
day!
* * *
But the worst was yet to come. Why should Colonel Standish
be out of the office when his replacement arrived? He'd told
Andy they were old buddies. Not only was he out but Stacy too,
leaving only Andy herself and Sergeant Rita Perez, her enlisted
clerk.
Buried under the constant deluge of paper, Andy barely heard
the outer door open and Rita's pleasant greeting, perfectly
correct for someone dressed in civilian clothes.
"Good afternoon. How may I help you?"
The reply caught her attention. It pulled her to her feet
and across toward her open door before she actually registered
anything familiar about the low drawling voice.
"I was hopin' to have a few minutes with Colonel Standish."
"I'm sorry, but he's not in this afternoon. I think
they're picking up his household goods. His wife is in poor
health, so he wanted to be there himself. This is his last week
on duty here, you know. Could someone else help you?" Rita
gushed, her tone almost sugary.
Why was she being so much more effusive than normal? If
Rita was almost falling over herself in an effort to be helpful,
Andy had to wonder why. The young sergeant was usually much
too casual, about as likely to say "Yo, dude" as "Yes,
sir."Then Andy reached the door, looked out, and understood.
The visitor had his back to her, but she recognized the blue
plaid shirt and the wide shoulders. What business did he have
in Twenty Fourth Signal?
"Maybe Captain Hollis, the Exec . . . ," he was
saying.
"I'm right here, Sergeant Perez." As always when
caught off guard, Andy fell back on military courtesy, the stiffer
the better.
At the sound of her voice the visitor turned, a smooth facing
turn betraying long familiarity with military drill. The motion
was oddly at variance with his dusty, scuffed cowboy boots and
the faded jeans which fit his narrow hips and long, lean legs
like a well made glove. He looked at her, one eyebrow cocked
quizzically, surprise and only the merest hint of recognition
in his faded blue eyes.
"Captain Hollis . . ." he said, with barely perceptible
hesitation, "I'm Colonel Cory Costain."
Andy shut her mouth sharply, the only way to keep from blurting
a torrent of profanity. No! It couldn't be, it just couldn't.
But it was. Same hat, same shirt, same ruggedly appealing face
and lazy drawling voice.
Andy felt her face redden as the same barnyard epithet kept
repeating in her mind. She shut her eyes and fought the maelstrom
of embarrassment and regret. And she'd been concerned about
first impressions - Enlisted In-processing, she'd said, assuming.
Ohmigod! No, no, no!
There was only one thing she could possibly do: drag out
the very best of her rigid military courtesy and pretend the
other incident had never happened. What would she say and do,
how would she act if she had never laid eyes on Colonel Costain
before? That's exactly what she'd say and do.
Cory took a deep breath and counted backwards from ten.
For a long moment, neither spoke. They simply looked at each
other. He felt sure Captain Hollis also mulled the consequences
of an event which neither of them could erase, however much
they both might wish it. So much for first impressions.
Oh hell, what have I done to deserve this? Earlier,
he really hadn't noticed much about her appearance. He'd been
too aware of her attitude, but now he did notice. Captain Hollis
might be spit and polish, even snooty and stuffy, but she was
also attractive, damned attractive in spite of herself.
She wore no obvious makeup and her short, dark brown hair
sleeked into a simple, almost severe style. She was clearly
a woman who had no intention of flaunting her femininity, not
that she needed to. A man could not deny or ignore it. She had
snapped to attention when he identified himself, which put her
shoulders back and lifted to prominence the curve of her breasts.
Under that crisp and carefully tailored uniform, he'd bet
she hid a fantastic figure. He could see just enough hints of
it to speed his pulse. Even if she did wear the lowest heels
available on the official black pumps, her legs were definitely
great. He remembered he'd been looking at them when he spotted
that unfortunate run.
He didn't usually pay so much attention to a woman's appearance,
but there was just something about Captain Hollis. She wore
the dress uniform instead of the camouflage Battle Dress Utilities
or 'BDUs', in which almost everyone looked bulky and untidy.
In the tailored uniform, she appeared neat and precise, almost
recruiting-poster perfect. The contrast of that with her undeniable
feminine attributes struck him forcibly.
She finally spoke, with almost robotic formality. "Welcome
aboard, sir. I'm Captain Andy Hollis. At present, I'm the Brigade
XO. When did you arrive on post, sir?"
This time he recognized her voice: the same one he'd heard
on the phone when he called from Korea. It had nagged at the
back of his mind ever since. Now he knew why. Though low pitched,
it was definitely a feminine voice. How could he have missed
that?
Down two strikes already. There was just one thing
to do: pretend he'd never seen her before. Cory knew he wasn't
good at conning himself, but he'd better try. He could use military
courtesy too, when necessary. He stood a little straighter,
called up his command presence, and gave back as good as he
got.
"I just arrived, Captain. At ease, please. This is
a very unofficial visit. Rick...er...Colonel Standish and I
go back a ways. I hoped I could catch him for a few minutes,
but since he's not here, I'll get out of your way."
Cory forced himself to relax, revealing none of the tension
and dismay he felt. This assignment wasn't going to be the comfortable
last post he'd hoped for after all, was it?
"Your quarters are ready, sir, over in Visiting Officer's
Quarters. You'd told us to expect you tomorrow, but everything's
been arranged. There's a copy of the weekly real estate catalog
and a few other things waiting there for you."
"Thank you, Captain. You've been most helpful. Do you
expect Colonel Standish in tomorrow?" There, he was talking
as stiffly as she was.
"Oh, yes sir," Rita interjected. "Right here
on his calendar --he has a staff meeting at eight. It usually
runs about an hour."
Cory turned back to the young clerk. "Okay, I'll be
in about nine fifteen then. Will you let him know I've arrived?"
"Oh, yes sir!" Rita accompanied her answer with
a flashing smile, bright as daybreak on her dusky face.
"I--if there's anything else, sir, we're just a phone
call away." Andy's words drew his gaze back to her. Her
face and posture looked equally rigid. She must be feeling as
uncomfortable as he was. Well, it served her right. Cory acknowledged
her comment with a nod.
"I'll remember that. Thank y'all again." He gave
both women a smile before he turned and strode out. No use making
things any worse than they were. But he might make some reassignments,
once he got on board.
Cory wished he could take back that little dig about the
run, but it was too late. One of these days, your mouth is going
to get you. But damn it, she'd asked for it, directing him to
the Enlisted Section! What rule said an officer couldn't wear
blue jeans or drive an old pickup?
Since his nephew had totalled the vintage Mustang Cory had
left with his sister when he went to Korea, he didn't have much
choice, but that was beside the point. He'd never had any patience
with the snobbery and elitism still prevalent in the military
community, anyway. If that ruffled a few feathers, so be it.
At this stage of life, he wasn't about to change. He didn't
expect to advance any higher in rank, so he didn't need to follow
the inflexible rules as closely as those colonels who had stars
in their eyes. He wasn't general material and he knew it.
* * *
Cory's departure left both Andy and Rita stunned. Rita seemed
to recover first. She did a little pirouette and half-fell into
her chair.
"Ooo-ee! He looks like the kind of man my Mama worried
about when I joined the service! Aye de me! Que hombre!"
Andy didn't say anything. Somehow she managed to get back
to her own desk and collapse into her chair before her knees
failed, but that was it. Why did he have to be so thoroughly
masculine, so tall, and so good looking in a rough-hewn way?
The lines in his tanned face hinted at good humor, a ready smile
and a hearty laugh. If she didn't know better, she'd think him
a really nice guy. But she did know better, even if he had chosen
to ignore their first encounter.
Andy swept a scatter of half formed thoughts and images
ruthlessly aside to summon some protective disapproval for his
casual dress and manner. Why would a Colonel drive a beat up
old truck and dress like an out-of-work ranch hand? It just
wasn't done!
She tried to visualize her father in anything less formal
than sharply pressed golf slacks and a matching shirt but she
found it impossible. General Hollis would never veer a degree
off of perfection. There had to be something wrong with an officer
who didn't fit the mold.
Nonetheless, to Andy's chagrin, she discovered she could
not easily dismiss his image. She was definitely going to need
every reason she could find to dislike this man since dislike
was the safest thing she could think of to feel and it was going
to be impossible not to feel something.
She darn well wouldn't let that great physique and high
voltage smile distract her. Cowboy colonels? If there was ever
a mutually exclusive combination, that was it!
Before she closed the office and went home for the night,
Andy had chewed every nail to the quick and begun wishing frantically
for a cigarette. She hadn't smoked in two years, but she could
sure use a one now. Resolutely, she turned her car toward home
instead of the ShopQuik, at the Post Exchange.
She was not going to let some maverick colonel drive her
back to smoking! But all the way home, she cursed men in general
and especially good looking, smart-alec officers. What had she
ever done to deserve this?
Crossing the threshold into her apartment, not far from
Fort Cochise's main gate, Andy caught her heel in the carpet.
Flailing wildly to recover her balance, she dropped her purse
and the contents scattered across the floor. "Oh damn it
all to bloody hell!" she yelled.
With a savage kick, she sent the offending shoe flying across
the room. It smacked against the wall with a satisfying thunk.
She hopped and kicked again. The second shoe followed its mate.
A third and final kick cleared the purse from her path as she
bolted blindly for her bedroom door. She threw herself down
across the bed, pounded the pillows with her fists and wept
until she felt weak and breathless.
Sometime later, she sat up and scrubbed at her burning
eyes. Whatever had come over her? If it was PMS, she'd never
had it that bad before. And she never lost control like that,
never! Well, better here at home than in public, but still,
it was an intolerable lapse, one she simply must not allow herself
to repeat. She continued to chide herself as she dragged out
to the living room and carefully picked everything up.
