One

Jackie Porter hoped she didn't embarrass herself by falling to her knees before her idol and kissing her hem. It was a distinct possibility, one she faced with a mixture of dread and amusement, but what was she to do? General Jennifer Napier was what Jackie wanted to be in twenty years—a woman successful in her own right.

For Jackie would succeed in her own right also. As she inched forward in the line that wound through the trendy Georgetown bookstore, she clutched her well-read copy of the general's autobiography and a copy of the new release, a book that clearly delineated and explained the principles by which General Napier had become a success. All the while, Jackie cherished the bright spark of hope General Jennifer Napier had created in her.

General Napier had lost her parents in horrible circumstances—just like Jackie. She had been raised in a series of foster homes—just like Jackie. She had made mistakes in her youth, mistakes so dreadful she hadn't believed she could ever recover from the disgrace and the shame—just like Jackie. Yet she had turned her life around, gone to West Point, joined the military, and was now the highest ranking female general in the U.S. Army.

Jackie looked up at the huge photo hanging over the table where General Napier was signing books.

General Jennifer Napier was fifty-five, an attractive woman with piercing blue eyes and dark, graying hair swept up and under her military hat. She exercised every morning, sternly regimenting her body to the peak of health. She was an acknowledged sharpshooter. She lived by the tenets of discipline that she outlined in her book.

Now Jackie lived by them too. She exercised every day. She practiced shooting and self-defense. She kept her eyes fixed on her goal and let nothing—not friendship, fun, or romance—get in her way.

General Napier had never married, dedicating her life to her career, and although Jackie had chosen a different career—horticulture—she dedicated her life to building a successful landscaping business in the Washington, D.C., area. She was doing well for a poor, orphan girl from Texas. And if sometimes at night she ached with loneliness, and remembered her one, dreadful mistake with a little too much fondness… well, in the daylight she had the life she had made for herself, and that was enough.

Now Jackie waited in line to thank General Napier for her guidance. Craning her neck to see past the other women in line, she caught her first live glimpse of her hero.

The general looked older and more worn than she did in her photo, and Jackie thought, Airbrush.

Then she chided herself for being cynical. After all, the general had been on an extensive book tour. She'd been interviewed on television and on radio. She was probably exhausted. And she was, in every other way, absolutely as Jackie had imagined her. The line inched forward and Jackie's heart thumped as she came closer.

Jackie had carefully dressed for this moment, wearing a dark blue skirt and white blouse neatly belted at her waist and designed to make the most of her five-foot-seven-inch height and to minimize her lavish bosom. Her sandals were dark blue and white, flat, and conservative. As the general advised, Jackie's jewelry was traditional, yet expensive: gold earrings, a gold chain, and a plain watch with a black leather band.

Each woman as she stood before General Napier babbled about how much she admired the general, saying almost the same words that Jackie had planned, but when Jackie stepped up to the table, all of her prepared speech flew right out of her head. Her fingers trembled as she handed the general the books.

General Napier fixed her gaze on her. "What's your name?"

"Pep—" She caught herself. "Jackie. Jackie Porter." She must be really rattled—she'd almost given the general her real name.

"How do you spell that, Jackie?"

"J-a-c-k-i-e P-o-r-t-e-r."

"Do you want me to say anything special? Happy birthday? Or…?"

"No. No, I just wanted to say—" Oh, dear, she was going to fall on her knees and kiss the general's hem.

General Napier opened the new book and started signing. "Yes?"

"I just… just…"—come on, Jackie, spit it out—"I wanted to tell you how much you inspired me. I'm… I was from… I'm from Texas, and I was raised in foster homes just like you. I just… I messed up a lot, and when I read your autobiography, I felt as if we were soul sisters."

The general was nodding, listening as she signed her name with a flourish, then went on to the autobiography and signed her name again. "I'm glad I could help. That's why I wrote the books. I felt I had something to say." Once again she looked directly at Jackie, and she folded her hands on the table before her. "It's important that no matter what the obstacles before you, you never give up."

Copyright © 2004 by Christina Dodd