A Soldier's Promise. Cynthia Thomason

in with her,” Brenna added. “Just so Carrie knows she has someone older to talk to, a woman. It can’t be easy living with a father only.”

      “Nothing’s easy about this, Miss Sullivan.” Mike scrubbed his hand down his face. He suddenly looked tired. “You check to your heart’s content, but I don’t want my daughter in your house or anyone else’s without my knowledge. I hope I’m making myself clear.”

      “Crystal.” Brenna managed a smile and a wave at Carrie in the truck. When she turned back to Mike, she made sure her features displayed the seriousness of her intent. “You have a good night now,” she said.

      He strode around to the driver’s side and got behind the wheel. When he turned the ignition, Brenna felt the rumble of his truck engine through the soles of her sandals. Carrie stared out the window while the truck pulled away. Brenna stepped onto the curb and watched them until the vehicle had rounded a curve in the road and the taillights had disappeared.

      * * *

      THEY HAD ALMOST reached the town boundaries when Mike spotted the Golden Arches ahead. He turned to his daughter and spoke the first words he’d uttered since they’d gotten into the truck. “You want something from the drive-through?”

      “No. I ate at Miss Sullivan’s.”

      He continued past the McDonald’s. “You like her, this teacher?”

      “She’s okay. She seemed real nice in class. Made it sound like we’d have fun trying different things this semester. I thought she might be like Mrs. Grant, my history teacher at home.”

      Mike gripped the steering wheel. He wished Carrie would start thinking of Georgia as “home.” But no, she kept referring to the small California town near Camp Pendleton that way. Mike couldn’t blame her. After thirteen years in the military, he was having a hard time adjusting to civilian life in quiet, tradition-bound Mount Union. But they both had to try. Mike didn’t want to go back, and in his heart, he believed a break with the old life was best for his daughter, too.

      “You know why I was so upset about what you did, don’t you?” he asked.

      “Not really. I mean jeez, Dad, this town must be, like, the safest place in the universe.”

      Was she kidding? Did all kids assume they were invincible? “I’m figuring you had your cell phone with you.”

      “I always have it.”

      “Then why didn’t you call?”

      “Come on, Dad. I’ll be fifteen in a couple of weeks. I shouldn’t have to call you every time I decide to take a walk.”

      “Sorry, but yes, you should. I want to know where you are all the time. It’s my job to know.” That sounded harsh. “I mean, it’s my responsibility.”

      “I would have called eventually, when I needed a ride. I didn’t call right away because I knew you’d come get me immediately.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “I thought I might get lucky and you’d work late. Sometimes you do.”

      She felt lucky when he worked late? He could only shake his head. For his part, he always worried about Carrie when he was at the garage late. “My work hours have no bearing on what happened tonight,” he said, getting back on topic. “I need to know about you all the time.”

      She gave him a look that had to have been followed by an eye roll. Thank goodness he couldn’t see her expression in the dark truck cab.

      “What you need, Dad, is to back off once in a while,” she muttered.

      “What’s that?”

      “Never mind.”

      “You are not old enough to be out on your own. And we haven’t lived here very long. It’s all new. So when you’re not in school, I have to know exactly where you are.”

      “Yeah, like I’m ever anywhere but that stupid cabin.”

      That stupid cabin was Mike’s attempt to start over. It was small but cozy, and he considered it perfect for the two of them. “We go places,” he said. “We’re not always in the cabin.”

      “Places little kids go with their dads.”

      He thought back over the past three months. He’d taken Carrie fishing and boating. They’d gone into Savannah for an overnight and seen the sights. They had a trip planned for Atlanta soon, where they’d visit the capitol building and see historic homes. Okay, maybe he hadn’t exactly asked his daughter what she’d like to do, but Mike had thought he was managing pretty well.

      He drove silently until he reached the narrow path to his grandmother’s cabin. The lane was rutted and dark. He still had numerous holes to fill in with new gravel; he’d get to it soon. He’d eventually make all the improvements on his list. It was the least he could do to thank his grandmother for suggesting that he and Carrie move here, far from the painful memories.

      He parked in front of their house, but didn’t get out of the truck right away.

      Carrie looked over at him. “What?”

      “I just bought you that new smartphone,” he said. “The one with all the gadgets you just had to have.”

      She took the phone from her pocket. “And I love it, and I said thank you.”

      “Yes, you did. You also promised to use it to stay in touch. You don’t have any excuse for me not knowing where you are and what you’re doing.”

      “Fine. I get it. It’s either your rules for the cell phone or handcuffs. Those are my options.”

      So much drama. Even after being in a war zone for years, Mike didn’t know how to handle basic family dynamics.

      They got out of the truck. As Mike walked to the house, his mind buzzed with the changes he’d been facing recently. When had teenagers become complete cyber citizens? Every kid in town seemed to have a fancy phone or a tablet or some other techie instrument that kept them occupied in their homes and on the streets. Carrie had moved to Georgia with her own state-of-the-art laptop, which she kept fired up all day, every day. Getting her away from the computer was like coaxing an otter out of the river.

      He’d given in to the new phone, but he’d made a mental note to keep tabs on whom she was talking to.

      And teachers? What the heck? Mike didn’t remember having a teacher who looked even remotely like Miss Sullivan. He’d taken notice of her in the parking lot earlier and had liked what he saw. Not that he was looking. But a few minutes ago, despite his anxiety over Carrie, he’d gotten an even better view of the teacher. Her reddish hair, which had been bound in some type of bun thing at school, hung to her shoulder blades in a wavy ponytail, looking touchably soft in the streetlight.

      He’d caught a scent of something nice and citrusy, too.

      He put his key in the lock and opened the old plank door. What’s gotten into you, Mike Langston? His wife hadn’t been dead a full year yet and here he was thinking of his daughter’s teacher as if he was starved for learning. Well, it had been a long time. A full year in Afghanistan without visiting home and then the loss.

      Carrie followed him in the door. She wrinkled her nose. “It stinks in here.”

      He sniffed. “I don’t smell anything. What does it smell like?”

      “Like mold and dust because everything in here is a thousand years old.”

      “These are your great-grandmother’s things. Of course they’re old.”

      “Right,” Carrie said, passing by him and heading to her room. “I’m going to check my email.”

      He had to quit thinking of his own needs. No sacrifice was too great when a man found himself trying to be a full-time father for the first time in his life and apparently messing up on a daily basis.

      * * *

      THAT