“Sir, I had no way of knowing.”
General Cole looked at him.
“You had a man telling you he served. You had an officer suggesting you verify his identity. And you chose to put your hands on him before asking one useful question.”
“He had no invitation.”
“Then you verify the guest list.”
“His appearance was inappropriate for the ceremony.”
Ray’s weathered eyebrows rose.
Cole’s voice became very quiet.
“Colonel, you are still explaining why you believed disrespect was evidence.”
Shaw stopped talking.
The band remained frozen. Soldiers stood in rows beneath the Texas heat. Captain Laura Reyes, who had been waiting near the front with the other officers being recognized that morning, stepped out of formation.
“Grandpa?”
Ray’s face changed.
The hard lines around his mouth softened.
“Hey, girl.”
Laura stared at the ribbon, then at General Cole’s hand on Ray’s shoulder.
“You came.”
“Told you I would.”
Her eyes filled.
“I left an invitation at your house.”
Ray shrugged. “Wind took the mailbox door last month. Might be halfway to Oklahoma.”
For the first time, several soldiers laughed openly.
Laura crossed the grass and hugged him.
Ray winced when her arms touched his bad hip.
She pulled back immediately.
“Did he hurt you?”
Ray looked toward Shaw.
Everyone waited.
He could have destroyed the colonel with a sentence.
Instead, Ray said, “He pulled on an old part. Old parts complain.”
