Vacation

Day Four

Cooper leaned back against the far wall, watching Kirsten carefully. She was about to make good on her promise, and tell the kids just how she'd gotten shot. It was just after breakfast, in the few free moments the kids had before starting classwork. The two older boys flanked Cooper on the wall, trying to emulate his aloofness, while the three younger kids clustered close to Kirsten. She reached out to affectionately ruffle Tyler's hair, before glancing up at Coop.

She sighed softly, and shook her head. "Cambodia is not a friendly place, guys," she started quietly, biting her lower lip. "Getting in isn't the problem... jump from a plane, open your chute, and pray that you don't get tangled in a tree or something... Getting out is the issue. They gave me two weeks, put an extraction team in place at a local village under the guys of Green Peace, and set me onto my task."

Suddenly, Julia's hand was in the air. Kirsten caught the child's fingers, and drew it down, waiting for the little one to pipe her question out. "Ex-track-shun?"

"A bunch of guys whose only job is to get me home." She glanced at Cooper again. He'd never heard the full story. He'd never been there during her debriefing, and the subject had never come up over their late night coffee cups. "I got in fine. Confirmed my target, and went to work. Everything up until the second I pulled that trigger, went like clockwork..." Kirsten trailed off.

Cooper knew what she was thinking about. Rumor had it that Kirsten's target had been a revolutionary guerrilla. She'd interrupted an arms deal with COBRA by taking out that Cambodian slime. She'd seen Destro's mask; it was unmistakable. In the silence, the kids shifted uneasily.

"What went wrong, Kirsty?" Toby took the initiative, breaking Kirsten's train of thought with his question. The poor kid's voice cracked halfway through, drawing a chuckle from the younger girls. Kirsten looked up and locked gazes with Cooper, as though seeking his approval.

"I wasn't spotted.. This guy shows up not even twenty yards from my position, and starts stabbing at bushes. After about ten minutes, he picks up my shell casing, and heads back down into the gully where the target had been. I moved as fast as I could without breaking cover, and put some distance between myself and that place. About halfway back to the village, I realized I was being tracked. It took everything I knew to keep that guy from finding me...

"The thing about the jungle, is that you can't afford to sleep. Not even a five-minute nap. Besides humans, there's all sort of predators to worry about. Tigers. Vipers. Even freakin' monkeys can attack and kill you if you get too close to their nesting areas. I resorted to only moving at night... only six to ten feet a night... I missed my week. My team was forced to leave, and I was left for dead in the jungle."

The little girls gasped at that revelation. Toby's face appeared dark and angry. Honestly, Cooper couldn't blame him. Numb bureaucracy had nearly cost Kirsten her life. Kirsten grew quiet again, biting her lower lip. She watched Cooper's face for reactions, but he was good at keeping his emotions far below the surface. She looked carefully at Toby, the boy who wanted to follow in her footsteps if he never got adopted. He had five years to go, but the older he got, the less likely a family was to take him in.

"I'd never been so scared in my life," the admission was almost a whisper, raw nerves stripped bare by simple words. The three little ones moved closer, Miranda crawled into Kirsten's lap. The other two leaned against her sides, enveloping the sniper in a group hug. "I... don't know how long I waited, how many inches I moved each night, but then, I heard it. Hope sounds like a Tomahawk helicopter coming in low over the jungle canopy. I knew I had a choice to make... I could either take it slow, and take another week to sneak my way to the village... or I could break for it.."

"You chose to break for it?" Toby asked, leaning forward a little. He was the most engrossed in the actual tale. Kirsten nodded, and smiled lightly.

"It felt like it took forever to make my choice. But I shucked my ghilly suit, and broke for it. The tracker saw me, and opened fire. Thankfully the plants were thick enough that he couldn't get a clear shot. So he charged me, tackled me." Kirsten's arms tightened around Miranda, hugging the little one to herself hard. The child squeaked, and Kirsten released her with a soft apology. "We fought. Disarmed each other. When I finally got away, I didn't bother finding my gun. I just ran. The village was along a stream, at the bottom of a gully. I hit the ridge overlooking it, and thought I was home free. I must have been perfectly outlined against the sky for just long enough.

"I never felt the bullets hit. I just knew I was falling, and tried to roll with the fall down the hill. A tree stopped my roll, and I tried to get up. Next thing I knew, I see that guy," she pointed at Cooper just then, a wry grin filtering over her face slowly, "hovering over me, telling me that they're here to take me home." Kirsten laughed softly, rocking Miranda in her lap. "Nothing in the world sounded sweeter at that moment."

Cooper tilted his head back against the wall. "Is that why you asked me for a strawberry before passing out?"

Kirsten blinked at him in the resounding silence that followed. Her brow furrowed, as she studied the suppressed smile creeping across Cooper's face. Beside him, Toby bent his head, and covered his mouth, trying to not let out the laughter that threatened to bubble over. After a few seconds, Toby lost it, doubling over with laughter. One by one, the other kids joined him, laughing more for the sake of the sound and action, than for the humor between the adults.

Kirsten smiled, and shook her head, gently dislodging Miranda from her lap. Rising she caught Cooper's eye and gestured him outside. They left the kids to the remainder of their free time, and headed out toward the barn. After a few feet, Kirsten laughed.

"Did I really ask for a strawberry?"

"Yep. Then you slept for almost two days."

Kirsten whistled softly. "I don't remember that." Ahead of them, the barn doors swung ponderously open, pushed by Sister Catherine. The old beat-up white truck idled behind them; the bed of the vehicle was loaded up with tools, shovels, pitchforks, and a few dozen coils of rope. Taking a full glance at the vehicle before Catherine could come over, Coop noticed that the missing passenger seat had been replaced.

"Now what am I doing?" Coop asked under his breath.

Catherine caught the sigh, and gave him a smart rap on the shoulder. Cooper blinked in astonishment; he'd witnessed her doing that to more than one of the children, but never had expected to be on the receiving end. Impossibly, he felt shamed, worried that he'd sounded ungrateful. Kirsten covered her mouth with a hand, and tried to not laugh at his face.

"The two of you are going to the Clooney's barn raising." Catherine informed them. "They've been nothing but good folk to us, and we promised them some help when the time came to replace that dilapidated mess of a thing they got up now."

"Oh." Coop still looked shocked that he'd been reprimanded by a nun.

Catherine make a shooing motion with her skirt, causing Kirsten to hustle around to the driver's seat. "Now, go before Bernie's potato salad gets too warm!" She patted the hood of the truck and waved merrily as Kirsten slipped the old truck into gear.

Cooper found the giant bowl of potato salad and balanced it on his lap. Lifting up the edge of the tin foil, he took a whiff of the contents. Grinning like a fool when Kirsten sighed at him, he tucked the foil back around the bowl and leaned back in his seat. "So, who're the Clooneys?"

"Daniel and Martha. Two kids, Aren and Allison, twins. I hated them in school, with their perfect, happy family and their pretty brand new shoes. Most of the trouble I caused was at their expense." Kirsten shot him a sidelong glance, noticing how intently he was listening to her little explanation. "In high school I was apparently tough enough to hang out with them. We caused terror and fear wherever we went. I went off an joined the Marines, while both of them went and got married, and had kids." She was silent for a few miles; Coop counted three markers before she spoke again.

"I'm still jealous of them," she admitted quietly.

Cooper dared to reach out. He patted her hand, which was resting on the stick shift, gently. After a second, when she didn't flinch away, he gave her fingers a light squeeze before withdrawing. She kept her mouth shut, and another mile passed before he spotted a ranch come into view on the lee side of a small rise. The cornfields they'd been driving past gave way to pastureland with a few dozen head of cattle lowing about. Kirsten downshifted, causing the engine to sputter, and she pulled into the already packed dirt drive.

The place was crazy busy. He counted perhaps six dozen trucks of various sizes sprawled all over the driveway and front lawn. Five tables set up to one side housed all manner of food and beverage, bustled about by a crowd of older women. Men and boys of all ages bore hammers were constructing a framework that lay on the ground around the perimeter of a massive concrete slab. About a hundred yards off, stood the dilapidated old barn they were replacing. And yes, it looked in sorry condition. Shingles had come off the sides, showing sunlight through the struts. A horse was watching them all impassively from one of those holes.

Kirsten cut the engine on the truck and calmly stuck her hand through the window to unlatch her door. Cooper climbed out with her, cradling the bowl of potato salad protectively. Kirsten's gaze darted everywhere, as though she were trying to take in everything at once. Cooper knew the signs, it was a hard habit to break. She wasn't so long removed from the jungle in many respects, and she obviously wasn't comfortable with this situation. The door to the truck closed behind her with a slam of finality, and a few of the women tending to the food looked up sharply.

"Saint's alive! Kirsty!" the eldest of the bunch flew over like a great mother hen, and grabbed the Marine by her shoulders. "You are alive! We'd heard the worst, child!"

Kirsten took each shake like a champion, even as her face progressively turned paler. Finally, she took the woman's wrists and removed her hands. "Mrs Clooney, please. Don't make a fuss."

"Pshaw! And it's Martha, how many times I gotta tell you that?" Cooper rounded the back of the truck as the large woman kept talking. "You are like a daughter to me, so if you won't call me Mama, then you call me Martha! Oooh!"

Coop had held out the bowl of potato salad as a peace offering. Mrs. Clooney's eyes were a warm shade of green, sparkling with mischief. "Is this what I think it is?"

"If you think it's Sister Bernadette's potato salad, you're right," Kirsten interposed dryly.

Martha accepted the bowl from Cooper, but kept her twinkling eyes on him. "Tell me, how'd a fine young man like yourself get mixed up with a hellion like this one?"

Kirsten rolled her eyes as Coop just laughed. She hooked an arm around his and gave him a light tug. "Mrs Clooney, can you tell me where your husband is? Looks like you're behind on construction, and could use a few hands."

Martha heaved a sigh, signaling defeat. "Just like you, always business. He's got blueprints outta the wind, behind the house."

"Thank you."

Cooper followed her, feeling his ears start to turn red. As they wended their way through the crowd, whispers followed them. He wasn't sure if people were reacting to the ghost returned from the land of the dead, or the fact that she was towing him along. The male version of the Clooney was just as large and boisterous as his wife. He could be hear shouting directions over the sound of pounding hammers. Flanking him at the table were two burly young men, farmer-types from nearby, Cooper assumed, and two young women who looked remarkably identical. They greeted Kirsten with none of the craziness that their father did, exchanging only knowing smiles, while the elder Clooney raced over for a hug.

Kirsten staved him off expertly with a warding pair of hands. "I got rope enough for three men," she informed him as soon as the hubbub died down. "Extra timber for supports, and two pairs of strong hands."

Cooper shot her a glance. She caught it, and looked away. Cooper practically growled under his breath at her stubbornness. He'd just have to keep a closer eye on her than normal today. Daniel Clooney's plan was to get all four sides framed in, before raising them. He had a tractor standing by with a bucket that could raise high enough so men could work on attaching the roof beams as they went. The morning went quickly, and by lunchtime, most of the men had stripped their shirts off.

He sat off by himself while Kirsten grabbed them drinks. As she returned, she brought along the twins, who settled on the grass across from them. Kirsten's hand, turned cool by the moisture of the water bottle, trailed across Cooper's shoulders as she circled around. He tried not to react to the casual touch, but goosebumps rose along his arms.

"Catching a bit of a sunburn there, Coop." She passed him his water bottle, and took a swig of hers.

He shrugged, swigging from his bottle in silence.

"He doesn't say much, does he?" Aren asked, lightly. She had a nose ring in her left nostril and what amounted to a contemporary haircut for farmers. Allison was a bit more traditional, her long dark hair pulled back into a tight French braid.

"It's probably why Kirsten likes him so much," Allison returned, grinning fiercely.

"Don't listen to them, Coop, they like to gossip just as much as their mom does." There was a grin on her face as she said it. He studied her for a moment, and saw how her shoulders began to slowly sag. Instead of drinking her water, she held the bottle to her head.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

When Kirsten only nodded, the twins glanced at Cooper.

"What's wrong with her?" Aren seemed to be the spokesperson of the two.

"Noth-"

"She was wounded in action," Cooper spoke right over Kirsten's protest.

The twins seemed shocked to silence. For a few moments, the Marine's face was an unreadable mess of emotion. Finally, unable to find anything to say, Kirsten slowly stood up, nodded a few times at Cooper and walked away. Cooper just let her go. The twins whistled softly.

"She shouldn't be doing this, eh?"

Cooper grunted affirmation, and nodded. But offered nothing beyond that.

She avoided him right up until night had fallen, and the barn's emerging silhouette blocked out beams of stars. A bonfire raged in the back field, surrounded by partying people, celebrating a job well done. Cooper leaned against the driver's side door of the truck, waiting. He knew she wasn't one for crowds; Kirsten would make her rounds, say her goodbyes, and slink back to the truck.

Coop waited longer than he thought he'd have to. Just when he was about to go hunting for her amid the crowd, she emerged from the shadow of the house. She stopped not too far away from the truck when she spotted him. She said nothing as she skirted the back of the truck to toss a coil of rope there, before climbing into the driver's seat.

He knew this game. She was probably rightfully mad at him, and she'd stay silent until her anger ebbed. He tucked his hands behind his head and leaned back in his seat. It'd be a long few days.