Soft Place to Fall (Navy Book 4)

Chapter 6

Will did his best to suppress a smile as he silently climbed the back-porch steps. Carmen appeared to be asleep on the swing with a book on her stomach. She hadn't changed, which could mean one of two things, either she had honestly fallen asleep and lost track of time, or she was doing her best to let him know that she didn't particularly care if they went out to dinner or not.

He leaned against the porch column and watched her as the soft light of the setting sun fell across her face. He still couldn't shake the feeling that he knew her. She was familiar to him but he wasn't sure how. If she was a model then he may have seen her photo somewhere before.

She turned a little on the swing and her book fell on the porch with a thump, causing her eyes to fly open. She must have really fallen asleep. Will bent over, reaching for the book, looking at the title. It was a book of poetry which surprised him. He opened it to the page she had been reading and noted the poem. It was one he knew well.

Carmen's eyes jumped to his movement and she hurriedly sat up, losing her hat in the process. At the sight of her hair Will felt his heart stop in his chest and his amused smile faltered as he was suddenly transported to a different place and a different time; there was nothing he could do to stop it. He turned away, towards the setting sun, placing his back to her as he tried to regain control.

She was the Landau girl. There had been an American magazine in the hellhole of a prison, and her photo had graced the inside cover. There had been three women, but she was the one who had saved him. There was no way he would forget her hair.

She had saved his life. The irony that now he was trying to save hers was not lost on him.

He took a deep measured breath and turned to face her with an over bright smile. "I never would have thought you were a poetry girl." He held out the book and noticed that she was busy stuffing her hair back under her ball cap with a frown.

When she was finished, she reached for the book, grabbing it like a small child who had gotten caught doing something bad. She opened the book with a frown, noting the poem that was marked before closing the book.

"I wouldn't imagine that you think much about poetry in general," she huffed as she stood up and started towards the door to the house.

Will was thankful that his urge to tease the woman suddenly took over his startled shock of recognition. "But you do imagine that I think about you." At her sudden look of frustration, Will's natural grin returned. It seemed the real girl, and not a photo, was much better at making Will forget his troubles.

She reached for the door knob and he felt that he was losing her and his chance to take her to dinner.

                      "In the fell clutch of circumstance

                     I have not winced nor cried aloud.

                     Under the bludgeonings of chance

                     My head is bloody, but unbowed."

She turned to look at him, her eyes wide. He had just quoted part of the poem, 'Invictus', that she had been reading.

"You just read that," she insisted.

"Maybe, maybe not. Why don't you come to dinner and quiz me on my knowledge of poetry? It might be the only way you ever find out the truth." He took a step down the porch steps and looked back at her, waiting.

She started towards him but stopped, looking down at herself.

"You look perfect, but shoes might be a good idea."