Read Margaret from Maine (9781101602690) for Free Online

that he would raise his arms and try to protect a fellow soldier, but that had nothing to do with God and Country and flag waving. It had more to do, she long ago decided, with his innate decency, his willingness to rise out of bed at four thirty in the morning on the coldest day of the year to milk his cows, to treat them tenderly, to chip ice off their drinking water while his hands and cheeks turned bright red. Thomas had always acted kindly, gently, and he could no more have ignored the man behind him, fleeing for safety himself, than he could have ignored a broken-down vehicle on his way to town or a cow floundering in a muddy rut. He did what was in front of him, and the irony was that he had no strong political impulse, but he would stand up and take a bullet for any human being in need of his protection. So was it bravery, she wondered, or simply the fate his character brought about? She was not sure the distinction mattered anymore, and she only thought of it when others commented on his actions.
    â€œYes, I believe it did,” Charlie King answered simply. “I admire his bravery.”
    â€œWell, thank you.”
    â€œHave you been to Washington?”
    â€œOnly once, for the medal ceremony.”
    â€œI find it a little exhausting to live there. Everyone has some sort of game going. It’s probably always been that way, but it seems worse these days. All these political winds.”
    â€œMore polarity?”
    He nodded. He turned a little to face her. She liked the way he talked, the intent way he had of holding her eyes with his own.
    â€œSo you grew up in Iowa?” she asked, partially to rid herself of political thoughts. “I saw it on your bio sheet. You must have felt right at home on our farm this morning.”
    â€œI grew up in farm country, but we weren’t farmers. My mom and dad are both teachers at the high school near Carroll. That’s in the center of the state. I had a pretty average upbringing.”
    â€œAnd you got an appointment to West Point?”
    â€œI did. I don’t want you to think I was some sort of born soldier, though. It was one of the best ways to pay for school. I would have done National Guard if I hadn’t received an appointment to West Point. I’m just cheap.”
    â€œAnd you served . . . ?”
    â€œIn Iraq.”
    â€œI read that,” Margaret said. “Three tours. And is your brother still alive?”
    He nodded.
    â€œYes, still. He has pretty good care. Ups and downs. You know how that is, I’m sure.”
    He smiled. Margaret smiled back at him. For an instant, just an instant, she felt a ridiculous, nearly forgotten flirtatiousness rise up in her. How strange, she thought. How absurd and how ill timed. She would have given a great deal to have her friend Blake beside her, if for nothing except to verify that his gaze actually contained interest. Sexual interest. She felt her face flush and she became aware of her body, of his opposite maleness, of the pleasure of talking to a man. How long had it been? She could not say precisely. She did not even permit herself to think of it, to believe fully that such a thing was happening, but she could not dispute the warmth and attraction of his eyes. She nearly blurted out her feeling because it came as such a surprise she could not take it seriously. She wondered if he felt the same thing. At any moment she imagined they would both burst out laughing, except his eyes remained on hers and in a pulse, maybe two, she understood that his interest was genuine.
    She moved her eyes away when the plane bounced a little on an air pocket. She felt grateful Charlie sat across the aisle and not directly beside her. It felt more comfortable that way, more casual. The plane dipped again and Margaret braced herself on the seat.
    â€œWe’re supposed to have decent weather, I think,” Charlie said. “Not sure where this disturbance is coming