Free The Road Home by Patrick E. Craig

faded picture. Finally Bobby spoke. “It seems like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?”
    Reuben was silent for another moment, and then he spoke, his voice breaking. “Ed Thompkins was a real man and a real soldier. He taught me many things, and in the end he laid down his life to save us both. If he hadn’t jumped on that grenade, neither one of us would be standing here.”
    Bobby stepped over to the desk and opened the bottom drawer. “I never drink on the job, but I thought today it might be all right to offer a toast. Care to join me?”
    â€œWell, it’s not usually my cup of tea, but considering the day and the man, I will,” Reuben said.
    Bobby pulled a small bottle of brandy and two glasses out of the drawer. Reuben smiled again. “So you think you know me well enough to bring an extra glass, do you?” he asked.
    â€œYep,” said Bobby.
    He poured two small shots and offered one to Reuben. They stood silently in front of the case for a moment and then Bobby lifted his glass. “Here’s to you, Gunnery Sergeant Edgar Thompkins, good soldier, fighting Marine, and our friend. Semper Fi!”
    Reuben lifted his glass in salute, and the men drank the toast. Reuben handed his glass to Bobby and smiled. “It’s a good thing nobody walked in just then,” he said. “I’m sure they would have found it very interesting to come upon the sheriff having a drink with one of the local Amish.”
    Bobby smiled and motioned Reuben to the chair in front of the desk. “You can stay a bit, right? It would be good to catch up.”
    Reuben nodded and sat down. Bobby sat in his chair, and the two men sat for another quiet moment.
    â€œHow’s Jerusha?” Bobby asked. “And Jenny?”
    â€œThe girls are doing well. Jerusha is still as beautiful as the first day I saw her, and Jenny is growing up into a delightful woman.”
    â€œIs she still as rambunctious as ever?” Bobby asked with a smile.
    â€œJenny does tend to rush in where angels fear to tread, but she’s been a joy and a great comfort to us since Jenna died,” Reuben said. “I love her like my own flesh and blood. I’ve always been amazed when I remember the way God sent her to us. And I will never forget the part you played in finding the two of them in that storm.”
    â€œDoes that mean you’re going to buy me lunch today?” Bobby asked with a grin.
    â€œIs there a serious bone in your body?” Reuben asked.
    â€œSure, but in this job, I try not to wear my heart on my sleeve. I thinkyou know that besides my mom and dad, you, Jerusha, and Jenny are the only family I have. And that girl is precious to me too. Is that serious enough?”
    Reuben sighed. He loved this man more dearly than a brother, but Bobby wasn’t one to reveal his deepest feelings very often. Reuben’s thoughts went back to the fall of 1950, when he and Jerusha were separated after Jenna’s death and Bobby had been a loyal and steadfast friend. He had searched for Jerusha for three days in the middle of the worst storm Ohio had ever seen. And when Jerusha had found Jenny lost in the storm and the Springers adopted her, Bobby had transferred all the love he had focused on their first child, Jenna, to Jenny.
    â€œTwenty-three years ago, we were heading up to the top of that ridge on that hellhole of an island to fight the decisive battle of that whole campaign,” Bobby said. “If the Japanese had gotten past us and retaken Henderson field, we might not be sitting here today.”
    Reuben winced and then moved past the memory.
    â€œStill bother you to think about it, Reuben?” Bobby asked.
    â€œ Es ist schwierig, es zu vergessen ,” Reuben said. “It is difficult to forget. I used to have bad dreams about it, but in the last few years the whole scene seems to have faded from my memory, for which I am grateful. I don’t know whether