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“Come on,” Lauren urged. “Oh, here’s Alex.” She gestured for Sierra to stand up. “You’re going to eat, Girl. You’ve lost at least fifteen pounds in the last three months. What are you doing? Endlessly eating soup and crackers? Today, you’re going to eat for real. Let’s go…”
With a protesting groan, Sierra got up. She saw Alex’s tall form at the door. He was as tall as Mace, equally broad shouldered. She smiled to herself as Alex leaned down, kissing his wife on the temple, resting his hands on her shoulders. She pictured Mace doing the same with her. The ache in her heart never went away; just a quiet longing for him that was never fulfilled.
“Have you heard from Mace yet?” Alex asked.
Shaking her head, Sierra followed them out into the hall and locked the door behind her. “No. Not yet.”
Lauren said, “Isn’t he supposed to get R&R soon?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t worry,” she soothed, patting Sierra’s shoulder, “He’ll call you from Cusco.”
Sierra wished she was that sure. But she’d heard nothing. She hadn’t expected to. Mace was chasing Kashnir and his team.
Following her pair of besties down the stairs to the small thirty-table cafeteria, she saw that the majority of Shield personnel were there, most already chowing down, some stragglers sliding their trays along the stainless-steel serving counter.
“Hmmm,” Alex said, “I think I smell borscht soup! Perhaps our chef finally took pity upon me?” and he grinned wickedly at them.
Sierra knew Alex was a terror on Sandy the chef to expand the menu because at least a third of Shield employees came from all around the world. He knew how to sweet talk a woman, no question. Lauren picked out several items and set them on her tray as they walked their way down the line.
“And you’re eating every last one of ’em, Chastain. No argument, “she said, pinning her with a dark look.
“I’ll try.”
Lauren snorted. Alex followed the two women as Lauren chose a table in the corner by a window. Outside, the sun was shining brightly. The level of noise was low as people ate with one another. Lauren had chosen a bowl of borscht, beet soup with cream, a beef sandwich filled with veggies, and a small dessert of chocolate pudding. Sierra knew she should eat more. During her three months inactivity, unable to go exercise, even jog on the indoor rubber course at Shield’s extensive gym complex whenever the weather turned inclement, if felt as if she wasn’t into living very much. Her heart, if she were honest, remained down in Peru. Mace still held it in his scarred hands.
“He’ll call you,” Lauren said, confident as she nibbled on some French fries.
Alex sat down between them. “If there is anything between you,” he said, “Mace will be in contact with you as soon as he can. You know that, Sierra.”
Yeah, she knew that, forcing herself to sip the delicious-tasting borscht. “I jump every time my phone rings at home.”
Lauren gave her a sympathetic look. “If Mace is half the man you’ve described to us, he’ll be in touch, Sierra. You have to have faith.”
It was a Friday night and Sierra was depressed. As she sat in her rocker, a bowl of popcorn in her lap, watching one of her favorite TV programs, she had to force herself to keep nibbling at them… Lauren had now made it her mission in life to put the weight she’d lost back on, come hell or high water.
The first week of April had passed and there’d still been no call from Mace. She worried. All the time. It was hell being out of touch with someone she cared for. Who she loved. Sierra knew their R&R timing hinged on whatever was going on in the jungle. If Mace and his team were engaged, those two weeks of downtime were put off until later. Her mind chaffing, she munched on the salty, buttery popcorn. Lauren was weighing her, every Monday at work. And if she didn’t at least inch up a pound weekly, Lauren wouldn’t let her out of her sight in the cafeteria. She was constantly choosing the most fattening foods for Sierra now. Still, she loved her sniper sister dearly. Lauren cared.
The phone rang.
Sierra almost dropped the bowl of popcorn from her lap. Heart pounding, she picked the receiver up from the small wooden table next to her rocker.
“Hello?” She sounded breathless. Anxious.
“It’s Mace. How are you doing?”
Sierra nearly laughed. He sounded like he was biting out the words, his gruff, usual self. “Mace! Are you alright? I’m fine.” Her heart wouldn’t stop pounding and she felt tears jam into her eyes. Choking them back, she asked, “Where are you? Cusco?”
“Yeah, we’re here. Just got in last night.”
“You sound so tired.”
“The usual,” he grunted. “How is your head? That blood clot? Is it going away?”
She smiled and closed her eyes, hanging onto his deep, rumbling voice. “I just saw the neurologist yesterday. She said it’s ninety percent dissolved. Another couple of weeks, and it should be gone.”
“That’s good to hear. What have you been doing since I last saw you?”
