The Lansing House

Asher

Asher lugged his army-issue duffel bag over his shoulder as he disembarked the chopper, and moved toward the hangar. He straightened and saluted his commander, with only 28 minutes to go before he was officially discharged.

“At ease, Major Fitzgerald.”

Asher relaxed his shoulders a little, and clasped his hands behind his back. He’d done four tours which lasted 12 months each, and two tours lasting 18 months apiece. He was done now. It was time to go home, settle down, and work the ranch.

“Your papers have been signed. Good luck, in the civilian world,” Lieutenant Colonel Granger said. He handed the paperwork to Asher, and they shook hands. “Your folks must be relieved.”

“Yes, sir. My father will be glad to have me home for a change,” Asher said.

His captain wished him well, and when Asher walked through the hangar toward the offices to hand in his papers, he sighed with regret. Fitzgerald had been an asset, a sniper, a man who held no fear, and he was sorry to see him go.

An hour later, Asher got a ride to the airport, where he felt the tension leave his shoulders as he sat down in a chair near his boarding gate. He’d given seven years of his life to the Army, not including his time spent in training. It was a good time to get out. The dreams had started a year ago, the nameless faces haunting him in the darkness.

A slow smile started at the corners of his mouth as he thought of Two Bear Meadow. It was a quaint town, with a population of almost 10,000 people. He could remember, as a child, his only wish had been to leave; but now, everything inside was calling him home.

It was 6 a.m., when the bus stopped at the station, and Asher climbed off. He was exhausted, but a thrill of excitement went through him as he walked away from the station. It was a 6-mile hike to the ranch, one he’d walked a hundred times before.

The trees showed off their full summer blossoms, a brilliant green against the blue of the sky. He could smell the flowers in the air, the faint traces of rain, and the scent of bacon. His stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in well over 24 hours.

It was too early for the shops to be open, so he walked down Main Street and reveled in the quiet of the town. Soon enough, it would be bustling with people going to work, and children racing across the streets as they headed to school.

Asher soon left the shops behind, and headed out of town. Up ahead was the Lansing House. Old man Lansing had never done much to keep the place up to standard, and Asher frowned at the lone car parked in front of the chain-link fence.

The rear door and trunk stood wide open, with a suitcase standing on the ground. The front door was open too, but nobody was around. He placed his duffel on the ground, and peered into the car.

“Well, hello there, little lady,” he said, as the baby stared at him with wide eyes. He assumed she was a girl by the pink onesie she wore. He undid the clips of the car seat, and picked the baby up. “Why are you all alone in a car next to the road?”

Asher was about to turn around when something smacked him against his back. “Put her down, you asshole!”

He chuckled, and grabbed the handle of the straw broom the woman was hitting him with. Before she could blink, Asher had disarmed her while holding the baby in one arm. When she took a step backward, Asher let the broom fall to the ground.

“She belong to you?”

The woman nodded her head. “Yes.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw a baby all alone. I was about to head inside. It gets hot very quickly, just as soon as it’s 7 a.m.,” Asher said.

“I thought you were trying to kidnap her.” The woman was short and petite, but had a feisty look in her eye.

“In Two Bear Meadow?” Asher chuckled again, and the baby made a chortling sound, and smiled.

“Well, nobody has ‘pervert’ tattooed on their foreheads,” she said, and Asher grinned at her.

“Major Asher Fitzgerald,” he said, out of habit. “Retired.”

“Maggie Conroy,” she said, as her eyes darted around.

“And this little lady?” He nudged his head toward the baby.

“Melody.”

“Are you moving into the Lansing House?” Asher looked pointedly at the house.

“Yes. If you don’t mind, I still have a lot to do,” Maggie said, and held her arms out for Melody.

“Of course.” Asher handed her the baby, looking at the two suitcases, and four boxes still in the trunk.

When Maggie turned back to the house, Asher grabbed both suitcases, and followed her. He placed them on the porch and went back for the boxes. Maggie watched him from behind the screened door but didn’t say a word.

“Asher Fitzgerald, as I live and breathe. Does your daddy know you’re home?” The voice was spoken over a microphone, and Asher turned around with a grin.

The Deputy Sheriff’s car stood a few feet away, and Maggie opened the door. “Who’s that?”

“That would be Finn. I had no idea he became a deputy,” Asher said.

Finn had gotten out of the car and walked toward Asher with a blinding smile. “Were you planning on walking all the way to the ranch?”

“I was going to surprise everyone,” Asher said.

“Who’s this?” Finn asked, as he looked at Maggie.

“This is Maggie Conroy,” he said, turning to look at her. “This is Finn, my baby brother.”

“Easy with the baby talk, I’m all grown up now,” Finn said, with a grin and tipped his hat at Maggie.

“You’re still wet behind the ears. How the hell did you become a deputy?”

“I’ll tell you on the way home,” Finn said, and turned toward Maggie. “Have a good day, Ma’am.”

Maggie opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again, as Asher walked away from her, grabbed his duffel bag, and climbed into the police car.