Delores Fossen - Marching Orders

“Yes,” Anna managed to say.

She swallowed hard.

Rafe gently cupped her chin and leaned closer for the kiss that would seal the vows they had just taken. His hand trembled a little, and he closed the already narrow distance between them.

Their bodies came together. His crisp uniform whispered over the delicate layers of her silk-and-lace gown. Beneath her own trembling hand, Anna felt the strip of cool medals on his jacket and heard them jangle softly. All things considered, it was as perfect as it could be.

Except for that jolt.

Rafe kept the kiss brief, not much more than a touch. Breath met breath. His was warm and mint-scented. It mingled with the sweet fragrance of the pale peach roses in her bouquet.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured. The trace of Texas in his voice danced right off his words. “We’ll make up for lost time. Promise.”

It was the right thing to say. Ditto for the grin that curved his beautifully shaped mouth. But neither of those things made the jolt go away.

What in the name of heaven was wrong with her? She had it all. A mouth-watering husband that she loved. A life she wanted. This was her own personal version of a fairy tale come true. There was no reason for jolts or doubts.

None.

So, why didn’t that make her feel better?

The chaplain placed a hand on each of their shoulders and turned them toward the guests. “I’d like to present Captain and Mrs. Rafael McQuade.”

Applause rippled through the handful of people. Close friends and Rafe’s co-workers, including his commanding officer, Colonel Ethan Shaw. The wedding had been so hastily thrown together that there hadn’t been time to invite anyone from out of town. As unsteady as she felt, maybe that was a good thing.

When Rafe stepped away to speak to the guests, Anna saw her best friend, Janine, make a beeline right for her. Janine didn’t waste any time. She draped an arm around Anna’s shoulders and pulled her aside. “Okay, is this the part where you tell me what the heck’s going on with you?”

Anna didn’t stand a chance of denying that jolt. Not with Janine. So, she went for what would hopefully be a believable slant on the truth. “I guess my nerves are still a little raw. I just keep thinking that those rebels could have killed Rafe.”

“Uh-huh.” Janine gave her a flat look. “That sounds, uh, good, and it might even fool a few people. Not me, of course. Because you see, I’m not buying this I’m-worried-about-Rafe stuff. I was with you during those two months he was held captive in South America. I’ve seen the look you get when you’re worried about him, and this isn’t it, Anna.”

Maybe not. But this wasn’t the place to try to discuss something that might simply be a figment of her overactive imagination.

“Everything will be fine,” Anna quickly assured her. With any luck, that was true. “By the way, thanks again for helping put this wedding together. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Another flat look. “Does that mean if I keep asking what’s wrong, you’ll continue to make small talk?”

Anna nodded and put some grit in her voice. “That’s exactly what it means.”

“Okay.” Janine shrugged. “Then small talk it is. Mmm, let’s see where we were.”

“I was thanking you for your help with the wedding.”

“Yes. And I was about to accept your thanks along with any future gifts of gratitude.” Janine smiled, caught Anna’s hand and lifted it so the light glimmered off the wedding band. “A one-carat, emerald-cut diamond, nearly flawless. Rafe did good by you, huh?”

Anna stared at the ornate band. Since Janine owned a jewelry store and had perhaps helped Rafe pick it out, she wouldn’t dare say that it wasn’t her style. But it wasn’t. Nowhere close.

Funny that Rafe hadn’t known that.

She kissed Janine’s cheek and got her moving toward the door. “I’ll meet you at the reception after the photographer’s done.”

“More small talk?” Janine questioned.

“Yep. Now, get going.”

Janine looked more than a little skeptical but thankfully didn’t press the issue. She followed the rest of the guests when they began to trickle out to go to the Officers’ Club at the base.

Anna stepped around the photographer, who was making adjustments to his equipment. She knew him and offered a friendly smile. They often did freelance work for the same company.

Rafe sank onto the pew, folded his hands behind his head and stretched his legs out in front of him. There was nothing remotely odd about it. Anna had seen him do that a hundred times. Rafe didn’t sit. He lounged. And it was that familiar pose that had her relaxing. It was normal, and if that was normal, then probably everything else was, too.

Probably.

As if he’d sensed that she was staring at him, Rafe looked up. “What? Having second thoughts already?” he asked, another grin shoving up the corner of his mouth.

She didn’t have time to answer. There was a soft beep. Just one. It came from Colonel Shaw’s pocket, and it was more than enough to get her complete attention.

The colonel pulled out the tiny phone and pressed it to his ear. “Alpha One,” he said to the person on the other end of the line.

It seemed as if time ground to a screeching halt.

But only for a moment.

Something shattered. A loud deafening blast. Anna whirled toward the sound and saw the jagged multicolored pieces fly through the church. They’d come from the stained glass window behind the altar. Or rather, what was left of it. God, someone was shooting at them.

Just like that, Rafe sprang into action. He whipped out a sleek matte black gun from his shoulder harness and yelled for her to get down. Colonel Shaw did the same and hurried to turn off the lights.

The place was suddenly pitch-black, the darkness closing around her, and Anna found herself standing alone in the middle of a deadly silent room. She dropped to the floor, made her way to the organ and ducked behind it.

Lots of thoughts crossed her mind. None good. This was the culmination of all her nightmares. The rebels had come for Rafe, again, and this time he might not get so lucky.

She heard the footsteps. Barely. They were more movement of air than sound, but she didn’t know what direction they were coming from. Not until the hand slid over her mouth.

“It’s me,” Rafe whispered. “Shhh.”

He eased his hand from her mouth and moved her farther behind the organ. Without warning, he pushed her to the floor, a cloud of silk and lace fluffing up around her.

Anna held her breath and tried not to make a sound. Hard to stay quiet though when fear kept trying to grab her by the throat.

The moments crawled by. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she peered out from behind the thick wooden base of the organ. Colonel Shaw was nowhere in sight. She prayed he hadn’t gone outside, alone.

Of course, there weren’t many alternatives.

Were there gunmen still out there? Maybe members of the rebel faction that had taken Rafe hostage? Or was this some other special ops mission? Maybe it didn’t even matter. After all, a bullet could be deadly no matter what the motivation or cause behind it.

Only threads of moonlight filtered through the thick stained glass windows. It was too dark to see the photographer on the other side of the church, but she could hear him. His breath came out in short, fast spurts.

Unlike Rafe’s.

Even though he loomed over her, only inches away, he was completely silent. If he had any reaction to the situation, he certainly didn’t show it.

Something darted past one of the windows, casting a sinister shadow over the sanctuary. Rafe must have felt her body tense because he pressed his hand on her shoulder.