But who could have predicted that in the grand scope of the day, Jeb’s Virginia creeper, scream-filled rescue was the easiest part of their mission?
Chapter Four
Auralia
“Hey, Deep,” Auralia called out. “Do you know where Gator is?”
“Yeah, he’s in the woods. Creed was on a search for a missing child.”
“Still missing?” Her body tightened.
“They found him, but Creed needed backup. They’re coming out now. I’ll tell Gator you’re looking for him.”
“Thank you,” Auralia waved.
“Gator’s here then?” Doli asked as she pretended to focus on adjusting her lens.
“Married.”
“I know.” Doli looked up with a smile. “But damned, he’s nice to look at. I can still look, can’t I?”
“Depends. I mean, the man can probably read every thought in your head, so if you can keep things clean and rated G, I guess you’re okay. Move a step over that, and I’d say it’s probably inappropriate to drool over another woman’s husband.”
Doli bent to unzip the camera bag and pulled the sides wide. “Fine, I’ll stay away. Because there’s no way that I can keep things from turning salty in my imagination.”
“That’s my brother, I’ll remind you. I don’t want anything to do with your salty thoughts in his regard, thank you.”
Squatting beside her bag, Doli fished out a lens cloth. “Okay, here’s a non-sexy question: Why does Gator call you Seren?”
“Nom du jour.” Auralia spread a towel on the ground and sat. “I’m going to have to take you on a bit of a longer story to explain it.”
“I have time.” Doli rubbed the cloth over her lens, then lifted the camera to her eye.
“He got his military name back when his unit was training for swamp survival. Some damned alligator attacked him. A beast, fifteen feet. After that incident, his fellow Marines christened him Gator.”
“It fits somehow, like when I look at him, I always think gladiator, but then there’s that boy-like quality, like everything’s fun.”
“Yeah, I hear that a lot.” Auralia pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “So anyway, another time out, there was a group of Rangers pinned down in a firefight. Gator saw it through his binoculars and went in and bare-handed crawled from tango to tango, taking them out.”
Doli hugged her camera to her chest. “Surely, they would have known he was coming and shot at him.”
“Nope. Remember my daddy died when I was still little, and my mamma worked hard, but teachers aren’t paid much, not enough for a family of five kids. The only fresh meat we got was what we could hunt or pull from the water. Silence was the only way to put food on the table. On the night Gator was rescuing the Rangers, it was zero dark thirty, and he had night vision goggles. No one knew he was there, or, you’re right, he would have been killed.” Auralia’s mouth went dry; she hated it when the memory of that story came up.
“Horrible and heroic,” Doli whispered.
“Since he came to their aid, that group slapped on the second part of his name. After that, he was either Gator or Gator Aid.”
“Still not following why that would make you Seren as anom du jour.Du jour? What else does he call you?”
“Depends on his mood. See, he tells folks that’s his name, Gator Aid, making out like Aid is his family name.”
“Easier to spell than Rochambeau.”
“Very true. Ask kindergarten me how well that went. Anyway, then Gator says that his mamma has a wicked sense of humor—which, in fact, she does—and gave her children names that go along with that surname. So, for example, he usually says my oldest sister Genevieve is named ‘First’ cause she came first. That would make her First Aid.”
Doli grinned.
“And he says he was named Gator because when he was born, he already had two teeth, and he bit Mamma straight away—that part is true. Sometimes he calls me ‘Lemon’ because he says I’m in a sour mood. If he’s calling me ‘Seren,’ it’s because he’s feeling nostalgic.”
