Prologue

Prologue

Ashley

8 years ago

“Yo, Dunklin! You got mail.”

My head flew up at the announcement. I didn’t get mail. There wasn’t anyone to write to me. Not anymore.

Polk flicked the envelope my way. I caught it with ease, then observed it like I’d discovered some precious artifact.

That’s a bit what it felt like. This moment would be one I’d etch in my mind for the rest of my days.

Sweat dripped down my cheek. It splashed against the black ink detailing my mailing address. It wasn’t as if Polk couldn’t read. The information was correct. Whoever sent this meant for it to come to me.

I checked the return section to see initials instead of a full name.

C. M.

The rest of the information held no appeal to me. I didn’t know anyone in that area, and my family was long gone.

It’s the unfortunate side effect of being adopted by an older set of parents. They were closing in on forty when they got me. Now that I was approaching that age myself, I appreciated their desire to take me in their care when I didn’t have anyone else.

As they were both only children and had no other family, I was the end of the line. The last Dunklin in a line of amazing people who deserved to have someone carry on their genetics.

“You gonna open it, D, or did the desert give you x-ray vision too?” Polk teased.

I rolled my eyes at his teasing. He was a young kid who’d signed up because he had no other options after turning eighteen. He’d be a lifer like me. It’s why he stayed under my ass for the last six months since he joined our squadron. He made it his mission to learn as much from me as possible.

“I’m getting to it. Just appreciating the beauty of getting something. Not all of us are as spoiled with loads of family, you little shit.”

He grinned at my taunt. Kid ate it up as the baby of twelve.

Hence why college wasn’t on his radar. He refused to have his family go into more debt just for him to go to college.

Plus, he loved the thrill. He was at his best when we were on a mission or scoping out targets.

“Don’t be jealous, Dunklin. I told my mama to bake you something next time she sends a care package.”

I wanted to warn him the cookies wouldn’t taste the same with how long shipping took, but I didn’t want to ruin his good mood. A bunch of the guys had shared stuff over the years, and we’d found there was an art to preserving freshness. I’d eaten dried out cookies more times than not thanks to poor packaging.

Maybe his mama would do better. She sounded like the type to try.

“Sure thing, Polk. I look forward to it.”

He grinned before jogging off to talk to someone else. Kid must have picked up on my desire for some privacy. It was hard to come by when you were living in a tent on a makeshift military installation.

I opened the letter after taking one last deep breath. Time to face the music. Or to face whatever this was.

The first few lines of the page had me coughing to cover my laughter. I had to start from the top to try to make sense of it. There was no way this was real.

Tilting my head up discreetly, I looked around the room to see if anyone was watching me. Not a single eye was turned my way. It wasn’t a prank.

That made the letter all that much more hilarious.

Dear soldier person,

I’m calling you that in my head because I was only given your last name and that feels weird. I’m a first name always kind of dude. It’s just how I live my life, you know?

Well, I guess you don’t, since this is our first communication.

Oh shit. I’ve already messed up. Should have started with my name. It’s rude to lead you on without details. Right? That’s totally a thing.

Ok.

Redo. But not really because I’ve already tried to start this twice, and I refuse to go again. Third time is the charm. Has to be. Plus, I think my boss is going to wig if I ask for more printer paper.

Not because he’s stingy or anything. It’s just that he’s trying to work and do payroll, and I kept interrupting. Clancy’s not all that good with computers so he has to really focus.

Clancy is my boss, by the way. I work at his ranch.

Dammit, I’ve done it again.

This time I’m really going to do it right.

My name is Corey Morrow, and I’m a ranch hand at the Coleman Ranch. Hell yeah! Look at me crushing this pen pal thing.

So you might be wondering why you’re the lucky human being graced with my letter. I’ll explain it to you.

I saw an article in the local paper about how we’ve become a technology focused world. They shared about how we spend so much time on our phones and computers and how it’s made us less social people.

Now, I’ve never been accused of not being social. That’s not who I am at all. In fact, I’m probably the first person in the room to speak up if it gets too quiet.

But the article still kind of hit me. It mentioned how things used to be when folks got mail through the post office and how slowing down was good for us.

I don’t know if you know anything about country life so I’m going to tell you that there is not much to do here besides taking life slow. I’ve spent my life on a farm or ranch of some kind. It’s all I know.

That’s not really the point though. The point was that the article got me thinking about writing letters. When I was little, my grandmother used to read me the letters between her and my grandfather while he was away in the war. I treasured those nights with her reading their love story to me.

Are you still with me? If so, then I think you might be putting the pieces together.

I don’t have a loved one who has gone off to war, but I do like the idea of being able to support someone through letters and communication like this. I looked up adult pen pal programs for military members that same day. I found one pretty quickly, but they took a few weeks to pair me with someone.

Now that they have, I took my entire morning off just to write this first letter. I wanted to get it right. Hopefully, I have.

The short and skinny is that I’m here to communicate with you and share a bit of the states with you while you’re away. I don’t know how long it takes for a letter to get to you, so maybe you could date yours, so I at least get an idea. I’ll do the same with mine.

But only if you want to. This isn’t something you’re forced to do. I could totally be off base, and you might hate the idea.

Either way, it’s nice to meet you — even if it winds up one sided.

Best wishes to you,

Corey

I stareddown at the paper after reading it twice. I didn’t know what the hell to make of it all. There was more in his letter than I knew about some of the men in my squadron. In their defense, I just wasn’t all that social.

Still, something about Corey’s letter hit me square in the chest. Whether it was because he was the first person to reach out to me in ages that I didn’t work with or because I could tell he was genuinely a nice guy, I felt the urge to reply.

For the first time in over a decade, I pulled out a piece of paper and asked the guys for an envelope. Then I sat on my cot and wrote out a reply to this stranger.

If only I’d known just how much those letters would change my entire life.