Flawless Surrender (The Surrender Trilogy, #2)(14)
Apparently, life had other plans for him. Just a mere two weeks ago they had gotten word at the camp in Mogadishu, Somalia, the organization was pulling all personnel out of the country. The violence had been escalating and the government factors weren’t being as helpful in discouraging the attacks on volunteer doctors and nurses. Dalton had seen a handful of volunteers killed in the years he had been over there, but it held no comparison to the thousands who died every year from malnutrition and disease because they couldn’t get help in time.
He was angry to be pulled out, but he had no say in the matter. He wasn’t ready to sign onto another position in another country, and his parents lived in a retirement community in Arizona. There was no extra room for him to live there, so here he was back in small town Texas for the time being.
Being back in Stone River meant facing the demons he had been running from for the last two decades, and he wasn’t exactly sure yet how to accomplish that. Running into Walt or Minnie White would be his worst nightmare, and yet in a small town like Stone River, it was going to be impossible to avoid them.
“Professor!”
The sound of his older brother’s voice echoed through the doorway of the airport terminal, and Dalton couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. Even facing his worst fears wasn’t going to stop him from enjoying the time with his brother. He had missed the stupid nicknames, jokes, and even the backbreaking work that came with being home on the Triple T.
Dalton made a beeline for Tanner, whose broad cowboy build drew the eyes of the female population anywhere he went. Tanner never even noticed the dozens of sighs from women as he ambled through a public place because it was normal for him. His bearing was that of a proud Army general, and Dalton knew from experience that Tanner ran the ranch with the same efficiency.
Dropping his carry-on to the floor, he wrapped his brother in a masculine embrace of backslapping, chest pounding Alpha male greeting. “Skipper! Damn it’s good to see you!”
“You too, man,” Tanner responded with a chuckle. They had quirky nicknames for each other out of love, or at least it was love on Dalton’s part. Years ago, watching Gilligan’s Island had been the highlight of their after school ritual. Tanner was Skipper because he was supposed to be in charge, but his brothers made sure his ego never got too big. Dalton was always a Straight A Honor Roll student, so he was Professor, and that left Clint with the nickname Gilligan. Poor kid had started out as gangly and awkward as possible. It wasn’t until he hit fourteen when he finally filled out. After that, the girls went gaga for him. It was still weird to Dalton that Clint was in Hollywood working as an actor.
“Did you check bags?”
“Nah, I shipped my stuff back. It should be here in a couple of days. Just me and my pack.” The two brothers turned and headed across the airport. Dalton caught more than a few double takes as they moved through the crowd. People parted easily in front of the two big men, but it didn’t stop Dalton from feeling a little claustrophobic in the mass of bodies.
Their size was the first thing most people noticed when they were together. At six foot tall, they weren’t giants, but thanks to their parents great gene mash up, they were both broadly built and muscular. To help pay for medical school, Dalton had even posed for a few modeling companies at one point. His blonde hair and blue eyes stood out in sharp contrast to Tanner’s darker coloring and amber colored eyes, but they shared similar features in their oval faces, angular jaws, and long narrow noses. If Clint stood with them, the similarities in the three men were even more obvious. Clint had his mother and Tanner’s darker coloring, and toffee brown eyes. They were ringed with thick eyelashes that drove the ladies crazy. His dimpled chin was identical to Dalton’s, and they all three shared the same thick eyebrows and strong brow line. Yep, they were three brothers who looked alike, but couldn’t have been more different from each other.
They stepped out into the stifling Texas heat and Dalton threw his head back, inhaling deeply. “Ahh, it even smells different here.”
Tanner laughed, “You’re probably smelling the horse shit on my boots. I came directly from working all day long.”
“Can’t say I’ve missed mucking stalls, but I can’t wait to get back in a saddle.” Dalton tossed his backpack in the back end of Tanner’s old pickup truck and climbed up onto the cracked vinyl seat.
Country music blared out of the speakers when Tanner turned the key, and Dalton couldn’t resist tapping his tennis shoe to the chorus about “Boys Round Here.” He hadn’t been able to listen to much American music unless it was already programed onto his iPod. He couldn’t wait to spend a day searching all of the newest hits to supplement his small selection.
“So how was Africa?”
“Hot, dirty, and fantastic. I’m going to miss it.”
“Any word on whether or not the program will be able to reopen?”
Dalton shook his head, and sighed. “No, and until they can work something out with the government, I don’t see it happening. Could be after twenty years, MSF will just have to stay out of Somalia.”
“It’s a damn shame when people are attacking volunteers who are only there to help save lives and feed them,” Tanner said, and Dalton nodded his agreement.
“It’s a warzone. Anything goes in a warzone. There’s been so much conflict that most of the time no one is even sure who is on whose side. We were there to help everyone. Didn’t matter which side they were on, or what they had done in the past or might do in the future. The only thing that mattered was they needed help.”