A Soldier Comes Home. Cindi Myers

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       CHAPTER ONE

      HOMECOMING OUGHT TO BE as sweet as candied cherries, so the bitter regret that filled Chrissie Evans caught her by surprise. She’d expected to be past those feelings by now, to be able to join in the general jubilation over the return of another group of soldiers to Colorado Springs. She forced a smile to her lips, and a cheerfulness into her voice when she faced Allison O’Reilly, the petite blond receptionist at the dentist’s office she managed.

      “What are you doing here?” she asked. “You should be home getting ready to welcome that soldier of yours.” Members of the Sixth Cavalry, who’d been stationed in Iraq for the past year, were coming home today.

      “I’ve been ready for days.” Allison grinned, the dimples on either side of her mouth deepening, her blue eyes shining. “The house is as clean as it can get. Once I’d put on my new dress and done my makeup, there was nothing to do but sit. I figured if I came in to work I could at least be with people until it was time to drive to the base.”

      “Then sit down and get to work.” Rita Red Horse, the dental hygienist, patted Allison’s shoulder. “You might as well take it easy while you can. That man of yours isn’t likely to let you sleep for at least a week.”

      Allison blushed, but sat. “I’m so nervous,” she said. “I can’t wait to see him. And then, part of me is nervous about that, too. A year is a long time. What if he’s different?”

      “He’ll be different,” Rita said. “Paul says you can’t go to war and not come back different.” Her husband was a sergeant with the 10th Special Forces, on his second tour in Iraq. “But he’s still your Daniel. The man you love who loves you.”

      “Yes,” Allison said, looking reassured. “He is. And he sounds the same in his e-mails, so that’s good.” She shuffled folders on the desk. “Oh God, I’m so nervous!”

      Smile fixed in place, Chrissie turned away and walked back into the procedure room. Only when she was alone did she allow the mask to slip, and give in to the sadness that dragged at her. She would have thought by now the grief would not be so sharp, the pain not so fresh. She’d had three years of homecomings to practice hiding her feelings, which made the intensity of her emotions now that much worse. When everyone around her was rejoicing, why was it so hard to pretend she wasn’t missing out?

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