Military K-9 Unit Christmas. Valerie HansenЧитать онлайн книгу.

      “And they don’t bother me now,” he told himself firmly as he drove toward the BX, base exchange, to go shopping for Natalie. There were good reasons for strictness in regard to separation of ranks. Promotions were earned on merit, not based on who an airman knew or who their family happened to be. Every new enlistee was tested and placed according to skills and aptitude. He, for instance, would have made a lousy pilot because of a childhood injury to his inner ear and thus his balance.

      Maybe that was why he’d empathized so readily with Rachel and her sister, Kyle reasoned. It had been a long time since he’d thought about the fights his younger brother, Dave, used to get into. And even longer since he’d remembered being injured sticking up for him. Their older sister, Gloria, had already left home by that time and neither of the boys had told their parents about the beatings Kyle had taken defending Dave. Not that it mattered anymore. Gloria was stationed overseas in the army, and Dave had cut all ties after their parents had relocated to Florida. In a way, his family was no closer than Rachel’s had been. He’d hoped to change that pattern with Sue and Wendy until their lives had been snatched away so unfairly.

      Mad at himself for allowing such maudlin thoughts, Kyle pulled into the parking lot of the base exchange, climbed out and slammed the door. Cold wind hit him in the face. He zipped his jacket and wished he’d thought to bring a hat. To say he was out of sorts was an understatement. This was just the beginning. Now he was going to have to look at children’s clothing and that would make him think about how precious his daughter had been.

      The mall entrance was festooned with garlands and blinking colored lights. Christmas. A season that was supposed to make him feel joyous. Peaceful. Loved.

      He clenched his jaw. Love was overrated. So was the holiday. Oh, he respected the spiritual aspects of it: the celebration of the coming of the Savior. It was the ho-ho-ho and all the other folderol that he could do without.

      Electronic doors slid open. Kyle stomped in. As long as nobody wished him a Merry Christmas he could probably get through this task without too much trouble.

      He went straight to the children’s-clothing section, then paused in front of a display of warm coats. His Wendy had had a red one a lot like this, with a fake-fur collar and white earmuffs to match. No way could he bring himself to buy that same outfit.

      Mumbling to himself, he turned away to look elsewhere. His gut was in knots and he was beginning to perspire. Four long years had passed since his family had been wiped out.

      It wasn’t supposed to hurt this much anymore.